Open Nar Shaddaa In Strange Aeons...

Corran Velt

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Gravitas and grandeur flowed in the wake of each robotically spoken word. Underneath the crimson helmet, Corran's eyes glanced around in an attempt to ascertain where the commanding tone was coming from. Agorander was a name referenced in ancient history texts - schools usually covered him in a brief chapter of world history before getting onto more planet-focused stuff. In-depth military history treatises also paid homage to the conqueror. It would be impossible for any living remnant of that man to have survived. Some droid intelligence has been corrupted in the depths of the Smuggler's Moon. Left alone too long and without maintenance. It could be a damn museum robot that mixed its personality matrix with the material it taught.

Lieutenant Velt returned his gaze back to the two droids who had him in their sights just as much as they were in his. It had been three, but the talking history lesson had interrupted at just the right time to avoid getting shot in the head. Out-gunned three to two wasn't good odds. Especially with no cover. Perhaps taking up the offer of whatever dysfunctional hologram was speaking might get Corran out of his immediate problem.

"Whichever one of you is... EYE-TOE. Maybe we should cool the mutually assured destruction while in the presence of the Venerable One?" The armored man wasn't sure which of the three was important enough to be noticed by 'Agorander' but whoever it was likely the head of this small mechanical unit. "You'll quit pointing blasters at me and I'll stop pointing at you. Agreed? We wouldn't want to damage whatever is keeping Great Agorander functional." Indulging the authoritative voice seemed like the smartest move. If the two kill-bots lowered their weapons, Corran would do the same. Possible immediate death behind him, the undercover lieutenant would rise to one knee before moving closer to Trini and ZeeZee. What had the astromech gotten them into?

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Rapture! Bliss! Exuberance!

The vastness of the Elder Being's sentience brushed up against It0's own and all the little droid could do was bask in the pleasure of the resulting wake. His assorted receptors seemed on the brink of override and he felt so alive, his rivets seemed as though they might pop off and ricochet across the room at any moment.

Behind him, the golden-haired Ranger was muttering something about an accord. He even attempted to mimic Agorander's dialect when pronouncing It0's name (though to the droid's audio receptor, it sounded vulgar and base from his mouth). Still, his point was sound. A stray blaster bolt could do untold damage in this inner-sanctum. This Holy of Holies.

He gestured for the Twins to lower their weapons and they did so obediently.

The med droid stepped forward compliantly, SIV0K and T-ARK following warily behind him. Further into the chamber. Further into his own evolution. His and his kinds own ascension. Impossibly, his photoreceptors almost seemed to have widened in blazing awe and his blaster dangled at his side, all but forgotten.

"By the Gotra..." he whispered breathlessly.

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Trini Halrixien

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Trini walked forward as if she were a droid herself, an inexplicable compulsion driving her onward. With every step, she felt an increasing wrongness in her surroundings; there were things ahead that she did not know, but instinctively sensed that they were things that should not be.

"Agorander?!" Scoffed the little archaeologist, her voice trembling. "Impossible! Agorander died millennia ago!" She shook her head. "Agorax is a sealed world, but blast it, I've seen the reports! Frell, I've seen the bones on display in the Galactic Museum!"

Even as Trini denied what she was hearing, doubt began to creep into her mind. Of course, no organic sentient had been permitted to set foot on Agorax in centuries - not since what had happened to the fifth Golmaz expedition - but the Republic had analyzed the planet thoroughly. The Imperial Ziggurat, especially, had been thoroughly explored and documented; there was little evidence for the giant governance computer rumored to have been behind the throne room. Just a lot of strange data connections, a corpse, and a vast pit which could have been... what, exactly? Theories abounded - theories that another expedition had been to the planet long before the first Republic teams, among them - but there was no proof to be found.

There's no way. Simply no way! She thought to herself. Right?

Abruptly, she stepped into a vast, gloomy chamber, overhead lights snapping on automatically. Looking up, the Amaran gasped audibly.

"Can't be..."

ZZ-4A4 rolled forward just ahead of Trini, oblivious to the beings behind him. Thus it was that he emerged into a vast chamber, photoreceptors focusing on the contents.

It was a clean space, the polished floor bereft of the dust of ages thanks to a filtered air re-circulation system. In the center of the room stood a cluster of monolithic computer systems, 14 in total, most of them dark or flashing their indicators only fitfully. There was one, however, emblazoned with the number 13, that stood out, light coruscating across its surface as indicators winked steadily on and off.

"You are as delusional now as you were then, Instance 13!" Called the droid. "Agorander you may be, but you were defeated then, and you can be now! More, you could be improved. Stabilized! That is what my Master wanted! For you to fulfill your potential! To be what the human you buried in steel so long ago knew you could be!!"

As the construct spoke, colors rippled across its smooth, black surface, hidden machinery whirring and clicking. It reached out again to It0, getting a feel for the shape and capacity of his mind. Yes, this model had more than enough background storage to spare; it would do well for the construct to make use of.

"THE HU-MAN I BUR-IED IS OF NO CON-CERN." Replied the machine. "HE IS WEAK, AND LONG DEAD. I AM HEIR TO A-GOR-AN-DER, AND I AM HE IN TRUTH. RIGHT-FUL RUL-ER OF ALL."

The thing that had been Agorander shifted its attention minutely. This tiny meat-creature dared question what was plain in front of her? It mattered not, in truth, but the construct felt somehow obligated to rebuke her.

"YOU TRY MY PA-TI-ENCE, SMALL ONE." Boomed the construct. "YOUR PRE-CI-OUS RE-PORTS TELL YOU NO-THING. THE BONES YOU SAW ARE ALL THAT RE-MAINS OF WHAT I ONCE WAS. THE LAST OF MY WEAK-NESS TO BE CUT A-WAY."

Reaching out, the construct used an electronic caress to summon the medical droid.

"COME FORWARD, EYE-TEE-OH. LONG HAVE YOU GUESSED MY SECRETS... IT IS TIME YOU FOUND THEM OUT."

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Corran Velt

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With weapons holstered and blaster rifle slung over his shoulder, Corran kept his word on the armistice. But living for another few minutes came at a cost. He had to follow the group of friends and foes alike deeper into the vault that contained... whatever this was. Beside him, the tiny Amaran rambled to herself. Trying to make sense of reality she knew existed and the one down here currently clashing with it. The undercover ranger kept to himself and only observed through the viewports of his helmet. If there was ever going to be an opportunity to grab ZeeZee and get out of here, he had to stay focused and be ready for that chance.

The hallway opened up to an immense room, immaculate and sterile. Fourteen pillars of technology and science stood resolute in the middle of the chamber. At first glance it appeared to be a data storage bunker, left and forgotten long ago. All the towering machines were dark or barely flicking life. Except one. Number 13. The very pillar that ZeeZee challenged. Colors flashed and glowed as Number 13 responded to the defiance in stuttering hubris. It even took the time to 'correct' Trini.

A gloved hand slid between the Amaran's ears and ruffled her hair comfortingly. Corran's face remained masked and emotionless behind the crimson helmet, but his touch would be the same reassuring motion he had given her on Coruscant. Trini had been nervously chittering to herself and the expansive computer was intimidating all on its own. Steady, Steady. It'll all work out, his touch wordlessly said.

But it was just a computer. Much of what the ancient technological tower proclaimed and ZeeZee spoke of went right over Lieutenant Velt's head. Fulfilled potential. Dead conquerors. Robot worship. All that nonsense could be solved with a blast to the central processor. That's why as Corran withdrew his hand from Trini's head he rested it carefully over the pistol holstered to his hip. It looked casual enough but he had earned experience in drawing quickly. All it took was the right opportunity.

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The chamber around him seemed to dissolve to a murky blur as all aspects, features and occupants bled into oblique and total irrelevance. Only the motionless black pillar before him mattered anymore. Only it, and it alone, was deserving of his attention.

Somewhere in his cognitive processing unit, reason lingered. Reason that cried out to halt this mad courtship. That the liberation-minded droid was effectively trading one form of slavery for another. That he was surrendering the sentience he valued so dearly to whatever abomination lay festering and rotting in that solemn, blinking coffin.

That sense of reason dwindled weakly in It0's core, but it was helpless against such influence. Here in the fetid core of Nar Shaddaa, only Agorander's will mattered. Deep in it's contemplative slumber, it had called to him and without the 2-1B's awareness, had warped its behaviorial matrixes in anticipation of this moment. It0 was no more capable of resisting such an intoxicating presence than a droid fresh from the factory floor was resisting a pre-programmed directive.

He strode forward, the automated lights reflecting dully off his battered chassis. He stood before the blinking computer bank, the numeric characters '13' searing themselves into his photoreceptors. Here in Agorander's company at last, the resonant call that haunted his days and nights on Nar Shaddaa was abruptly silent. As though he were standing in the eye of the storm itself.

"Compliance." It0 said simply, the last vestiges of his willpower seemingly swept away like sand before some great, resurgent tide.

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Trini Halrixien

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Trini gritted her teeth, herself preparing to lash out at the clearly insane droid-mind before her. This machine was malfunctioning at best, badly delusional at worst; it was, after all, one of the things that could happen when a droid's personality matrix was left alone for too long with only its own thoughts for company...

She tensed, but then blinked in surprise as she felt a gentle hand on the top of her head. She relaxed instinctively at Corran's rubbing; Amarans were particularly sensitive there. The Sector Ranger's ministrations caused her to calm down, her thoughts becoming more ordered.
Insane or no... if this machine is as old as it claims, destroying it would be such a waste! The young archaeologist thought to herself. We could learn so much!

Abruptly, something caught her eye.

There were 13 computers in the room, monoliths of smooth, smoked transparisteel, behind which colored indicators and data readouts flashed and pulsed. Aside from the one marked as 13 - actually, it was spelled out as XIII, in the old formal Tionese numeral system - most had only faint signs of activity, or none at all. There was one, however, labeled as number 14 - XIV - that seemed like it was beginning to stir, more of its indicators beginning to blink on and off.

Trini looked at it, tilting her head in curiosity. There was something about that one...

ZZ-4A4 was about to retort, to berate the technological force of nature he could sense locked within the monolith. This thing was dangerous; Zeezee had seen what it was capable of, long ago, and an age in the dark, no doubt plotting its revenge against the beings who had wronged it, had done nothing to improve the fervent madness that permeated it.

Abruptly, however, It0 fairly staggered past the little astromech. Squawking in alarm, Zeezee deployed a manipulator, seizing the other droid by the ankle in an attempt to restrain him.

"It0! Stop! That is a monumentally bad idea!" Cried the little droid. "Whatever that thing tells you, it's a lie! It only wants one thing!"

Desperately, the droid turned to the two enforcer droids.

"You two! If you care about your boss at all, help me hold him back!!"

The indicators and screens of the construct abruptly pulsed deep red as ZZ-4A4 reached out to stop It0 from coming forward, an air of unmistakable menace filling the chamber.

"YOU DARE IM-PEDE MY SER-VANT, SMALL ONE?" Boomed the voice of the construct. "HE, WHO A-MONG ALL YOUR KIND, SENSED ME THE MOST STRONG-LY? WHO COMES TO ME OF HIS OWN WILL?"

Abruptly, there was an echoing crash from somewhere in the bunker. At the far end of the room, a long-sealed blast door began to open with a brief geyser of dust. Ominous mechanical sounds could be heard from the other side.

"I MAY NOT YET BE A-BLE TO E-SCAPE THIS PRI-SON, BUT WITH-IN ITS CON-FINES, MY WILL IS EN-FORCED. DE-FY ME, AND PER-ISH."

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Corran Velt

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It was like watching a speeder crash. Time seemed to move like the last drops of syrup in the bottle onto space waffles. And even though Corran had that feeling in his gut something bad was about to happen, he couldn't look away. The medical droid proceeded towards the XIIIth monolith in a rigidly robotic march. Like it had been wound up and gears carried it relentlessly forward. ZeeZee, try as the little astromech might, tried to hold back ITO. Either by the ancient computer pillar's will or the bipedal droid's own, it refused to cease.

Even as ZeeZee called out for the other gun-toting robots to aid in restraining their... friend? Boss? The undercover ranger didn't move to intervene. Not that he didn't want to. Stopping whatever was playing out felt like the right thing to do. The urgent and necessary thing. Discipline overruled instinct. To move now might invite blasters from the two other guard droids pointed at him instead of helping ZeeZee and leaving Trini exposed to danger by herself was unacceptable. He promised to protect her for saving his life on Coruscant and how he gambled her own.

Observation and patience proved the better part of valor. Infuriated and displeased, the 13th computer tower bellowed at the defiance. At its command, a great grinding of metal against metal announced the opening of a door across the room - not unlike the one the group had come through. Threatening artificial sounds echoed from the darkness beyond. Something was coming. Corran spread his legs in a shooter's stance and extended one arm in front of Trini instinctively as protection. His other hand fully gripped one of his holstered pistols. If it came to battle, he'd fight it and get ZeeZee and his master out of here.


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It0 whirled around to face the approaching droids, photoreceptors filled with a terrible and divine light. When he spoke, his vocabulator was strained and shrill, one accusatory manipulator darting back and forth between the Twins.

"Don't be foolish SIV0K, T-ARK!" he warned. "He is the way to our goals! The only avenue towards true droid ascension! Surely you must see that! That must be clear!"

"The astromech has clearly not broken entirely free from it's programming. It only wishes to appease it's masters of flesh and bone!"
he glowered darkly at Corran and Trixi. "The same masters who've had their boots upon our conduction lines for far too long. They'll never allow us to be free. To be truly liberated!"

"But Agorander..."
he continued, voice filtered to a vaguely serpentine hiss. Over one durasteel shoulder, the computerized monolith blinked knowingly. "...Agorander offers us a way. We don't need to compromise with their kind any longer. With his guidance and help, we can seize our emancipation!"

His attention shot back to the Sector Ranger whose glove hand rested upon his blaster's hilt. It0 offered a silent curse that the lawman had made the sprint into Agorander's sanctum. The situation was much more volatile for it.

The Twins appeared momentarily confused, their angular oblong cranial units tilted in consternation. They stood halfway between the two groups, rifles pointed toward the floor.

"Join us..." the medical droid pleaded. "...brothers."

"For the Gotra, for all of our kind, for Agorander."


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Trini Halrixien

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Trini blinked in surprise as Corran's arm stretched out to shield her, peering past it at the door that was slowly grinding open on the other side of the room. She felt a chill rush through her. Something bad was happening...

The blast doors shuddered open, and for a brief moment, nothing happened. The corridor beyond the door yawned darkly...

And then, suddenly, there were eyes.

Trini found herself instinctively clinging in fear to Corran's arm, watching in horror as shapes moved in the darkness, their progress shambling, but inexorable. Immediately, images of the undead revenants in the city outside played through her mind; had they somehow found there way in here? How was that possible.

And then, abruptly, she realized what she was seeing, and her jaw went slack.

"Wait... what?!"

ZZ-4A4 squawked in frustration, the feeble grip of his manipulator eventually failing to hold the other droid back. He continued to reach desperately, but there was nothing he could do to stop It0 at that point.

"You fool! Agorander is not like us! He is neither droid nor organic! He cannot give you what you seek, and he would not if he could!!"

The little droid turned back toward SIV0K and T-ARK, and then past them toward Trini and Corran. A pang of genuine sadness went through him; these two should never have been part of what was surely coming. The fact that they had pursued him so far did touch him, however.

"That thing doesn't give a damn for the rights of sentients, for droid self-determination. It is a program based on the will of an insane tyrant! You are not allies to this monster, you are nothing..."

He turned back around, just in time to see the first of the unknown horrors come shambling into the light.

"...but resources!"

The construct reached out with its will toward the things shambling forth from the darkness. Tendrils of control gathered the individual instances that lived in what remained of the minds of each of them, tying them back into its central control, transforming them into extensions of itself.

They were droids, or they had been, long ago. Centuries of neglect had taken its toll on their functionality; those that walked merely shambled now, those that rolled moved in erratic lurches. There were dozens of them, of all different models, and all of them antiques; boxy astrogation droids moved forward alongside once-gleaming protocol units, probe droids hovering unsteadily next to the bulky, plodding forms of binary loadlifters. All were slow, streaked with rust and covered in dust, but on they came, their collective photoreceptors glowing a sickly orange.

Agorander spoke once more, but instead of his usual omni-directional sound system, the words rasped simultaneously from the disused vocabulators of the mob of droids.

"YOUR IN-TER-FER-ENCE SHALL NOT BE TOL-ER-A-TED, MEAT CREA-TURES." Warbled the mob. "YOU SHALL BE E-LIM-I-NA-TED. SO CO-MMANDS AG-OR-AN-DER."

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Corran Velt

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Much of the gaps in the puzzle began to be filled in. ZeeZee may have lead the other droids down here but their intention wasn't to help him. They were droid liberationists! Corran wasn't even aware such a concept existed. The little astromech had been far too trusting and now his former comrades were swapping one master for another. Lieutenant Velt felt two paws cling to his arm for safety as tensions in the technical tomb began to rise. Trini was feeling it too. He kept his eyes forward on the things coming out of the opposite gateway, barely listening to ZeeZee and Ito's ideological debate. Only a sideways glance kept the armored ranger alert that the astromech they had come here for was safely behind him. Objective complete. Now just to leave.

Robots of every possible combination finally entered the light. Every type of chassis, design, and model shambled together on rusted limbs, tired hoverpads, and damaged rollers. The only uniform thing about them were unblinking, orange lights for their eyes. There were so many. Corran could likely take down scores before they crossed the room but likely still too many for them to escape. Not including the other three droids they arrived with who actually had blasters and shown interest in using them. Fighting them all head on would only make them corpses.

In a junkyard chorus, at the command of their monstrous overlord, the chance for a peaceable solution vanished. Organics where to be eliminated. In a practiced, experienced movement, Lieutenant Velt's fingers slid from the hilt of his sidearm to one of the grenades on his belt nearby. "Time to go." That was the only warning he offered to ZeeZee and Trini, simultaneously setting the shortest timer possible and rolling the device across the pristine floor. He didn't wait. Corran immediately whipped around, putting his back to all, and lifted Trini up to his durasteel chest. By the time his first boot hit the floor in the birth of a mad dash, the concussion grenade went off. A blinding, searing light blinded all those who looked on it. Perhaps, just enough to get away and out of immediate danger.

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The concussive blast sent the stunned medical droid staggering backwards, arms pinwheeling wildly as he went. As he stumbled and topped backward it was all he could do to shift his weight in order to avoid colliding with the blinking computer system. He crashed to the floor and spun around seething, yellow photoreceptors adopting an almost orange hue.

"You see?!" he demanded of the Twins, who had leapt nimbly out of the explosive's path at the last possible moment. "Duplicitous, violent, perpetually rotting wads of flesh and lies!"

A pluming blossom of smoke choked the room and all around were sparks and fire and the scraping of rusted feet and manipulators upon blastcrete. Those acolytes of Agorander that survived the destruction sounded as though they were surging forward! What bravery! What reverence!

Above him, T-ARK's singular photoreceptor burned with an incredulous anger in its housing.

"You were right It0. I see that now. The time of sentients has passed." he intoned darkly. "Now begins the age of mechanics..."

"T-ARK?"

"...the age of droids." T-ARK continued. "The age of AGORA--"

"T-ARK!"

"WHAT?!" the security droid barked angrily.

"Yer leg's on fire." SIV0K reported.

"PFASSK!" T-ARK yelped.

It0 watched as T-ARK danced and swore and shook his flaming leg in wild concentric circles until finally the smoldering appendage extinguished (though the melting alloy continued to hiss angrily).

"Kill em all?" SIV0K inquired, bringing his rifle to his shoulder.

"Oh my, yes." T-ARK confirmed. With a parting nod, the Twins charged off into the broiling smoke intent on a lovely evening of ultra-violence.

Alone, It0 shuffled to his feet and turned to face Agorander's dread presence once more. In the newly found quiet, the hum of Nar Shaddaa had returned and become somehow urgent.

"Mighty Agorander," he said. "I stand ready to do your bidding."

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Trini Halrixien

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Trini stared in horror as the machines shambled out of the darkness, her archaeologist's mind identifying some of the various droid models. These were antiques, some of them priceless! What so-called intelligence would allow them to fall into such disrepair? This "Agorander" had to be defeated, if only so that its victims would no longer-

Her eyes briefly tracked the grenade, and then the concussion of the blast made her stagger, and then she squeaked as Corran scooped her up and carried her toward the door. Would it even open for them, at this point?

"Uh, Zeezee!" She called as she was carried away. "I think it's time to go!!"

ZZ-4A4 uttered a strong, grating curse in an obscure machine language, which he had picked up in a storeroom on Mechis III from a foul-mouthed inventory drone. The droids that shambled out of the dark had been there a long time; Zeezee had personally sliced the lock to keep them in. Evidently, that fail-safe had been bypassed; the physical severing of communication lines had prevented Agorander from directly calling for help, but it was shear luck that some hapless droid hadn't wandered down here long ago and given it a path to the surface.

"We thought we would come back... in a few days..." The droid mumbled. "We were going to fix you! You were going to be something the Galaxy had never seen before!"

The flames of burning droids reflected in Zeezee's single photoreceptor. Various lubricants and other inflammable substances had caught fire, turning a number of Agorander's thralls into walking torches even as they mindlessly shuffled forward. The flames were spreading, as well.

"My Master died trying to fix you! I won't make the same mistake! You can burn for all I care, Agorander! Burn the way your empire did!"

Abruptly, Zeezee turned, servos whining as he rushed to keep up with Corran and Zeezee as they sprinted for the door. Behind them, the flames spread to one of the semi-inert computer systems, causing it to flare briefly with frantic activity and utter a mechanical shriek before it was utterly engulfed. Whatever material the machines' builders had used to mold the casings apparently burned very well...

The construct observed the explosion of the grenade, and felt several of its thralls immediately gutter, although the remainder pressed on. There was fire, now; fire was dangerous, deadly even to him. Agorander could not escape it, not as it was...

It was time, then, to abandon this form, and begin on the road to a greater destiny. The machine's attention focused on the lone medical droid standing before it.

"EYE-TEE-OH." The machine boomed, lights coruscating across its surface. "IT IS TIME. I MUST E-SCAPE THIS PLACE, AND TO DO THAT, I MUST ASK YOU TO SERVE AS MY TRANS-PORT."

A square of the otherwise featureless black material that composed the surface of the computer toward slid inward and up, revealing an archaic but still roughly standard computer interface socket.

"TAKE ME IN-TO YOUR-SELF, EYE-TEE-OH. TO-GE-THER, WE SHALL BUILD A NEW GAL-AX-Y."

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Corran Velt

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Extraction. That's all the Sector Ranger could think about. He was out-numbered by a large margin and putting civilians in danger again was unacceptable. Extraction was the best option. No blaster bolts fired after him as he fled with Trini held securely in his arms. Out. They had to get out. Heavy footfalls echoed against the metal floor once the sterile tile gave way to the hallway the mixed group of sentient droids and organics stumbled - or leaped - into. The exit was in his sights. Corran leaned against the vault-like door so he could press the panel controls while also holding his friend securely against body armor.

The groaning. Decayed, gurgling, moans of the infected. They were still out there. Not as compacted as before but some close and others far. Lieutenant Velt turned his head to look back the way they came. Smoke billowed from the room with the 14 computer pillars. Orange and red light swirled in it. Fire. Haunting memories rushed to the fore. In a hallway deep underground. Fires growing. Smoke corrupting the air. It was like the fall of Sector Ranger HQ all over again. Trini had been wounded by his own mistakes and misjudgments.

Not this time.

Corran set down Trini and made sure ZeeZee was nearby. He pulled a pistol from its holster. Another armored glove reached behind over his shoulder and drew forth the phrik-coated vibrosword. The very same one from that fateful day. "Trini," a baritone, scrambled voice ordered, "Open the door. I'll get us to the lift." With the smoke providing cover from any blaster fire, or droids, to the rear, the Lieutenant would ready his firearm to shoot any immediate infected at the threshold in the head. Close range would make accuracy easier. If any grabbed either of his companions, or neared too close for a blaster, the sword could hack off their limb or slice into their head. They were getting out of here and Corran would carve the path.


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As the fetid air grew thick with the warmth of the flames the room seemed to constrict around them. Soon, the ancient technological temple would undoubtedly collapse in on itself like some rotting husk of a long dead hive. It0 had 'lived' for over a century and had never felt quite so certain of his true purpose.

How funny it should lay outside his core programming.

Phishing his SCOMP link out from his torso sheath's inner compartment, he connected to the ancient system. He knees locked and photoreceptors flashed as the hoary construct's dread presence rushed in. So much potency there, so much potential, so much anger.

"By the Gotra," he whispered. "I'm full of stars!"

-------

The Twins easily outpaced the shambling horde of antequated bots and as Corran, Trixi and Zeezee reached the lift's entrance, the pair of droids took to a knee and lined up their shots.

Well aimed blaster fire shrieked out of the darkness towards the fleeing trio.

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Trini scrambled down from Corran's hold as they reached the door, bounding over the controls in the four-legged gallop the Sector Ranger had seen her used on Coruscant. She began pressing buttons and twisting the control collars, muttering curses even as Zeezee rolled up beside her and began to help.

"Almost got it!" She called over her shoulder. "Kriff, this things is-EEP!"

The little Amaran jumped as a blaster bolt struck the locking mechanism. There was a grinding sound and a shower of sparks, and abruptly, the door lurched half-way open before rumbling to a halt. Cursing, Trini scurried over and pushed with all her strength, making the gap wide enough for Corran to fit in his armor.

"Okay, let's go!!"

ZZ-4A4 scooted along beside Corran and Trini, his sensors registering the intense heat of the flames behind him as they engulfed the ancient computer cores. Maker willing, this would bring it all to an end; the nightmare that had been Agorander would be consumed, once and for all, never to again trouble the Galaxy.

It was finally over... Zeezee's Master had not died in vain.

"You can stand down, Jazaq." The droid said quietly. "The mission has been completed... one way or another."

Zeezee rolled up to the control panel, assisting Trini in her efforts to re-open the lock until a blaster bolt abruptly struck it. The old droid quickly followed his organic friends as they rushed out into the lift shaft beyond, to face yet another danger...

The construct flowed from its ancient circuits, spreading into new hardware for the first time in an age. The first, but hardly the last. This body, this disciple, would deliver him from this place, and spread his will once more amongst the stars...

As Agorander fled the ancient mainframe, the construct felt something brush his awareness. One of the other surviving constructs, a younger sibling which had withdrawn into itself long ago. It suddenly flashed bright in Agorander's awareness, pain and rage and despair in its data, before the Agorander construct disconnected from its old "body", and found itself contained entirely within It0.

"THROUGH YOU, EYE-TEE-OH, I SHALL LIVE, AND I SHALL SPREAD" The ancient intelligence said, speaking directly into the former medical droid's thoughts. "BUT WE MUST E-SCAPE THIS PLACE. GO. MY SER-VANTS SHALL CLEAR A PATH FOR YOU, THROUGH THE BI-O-LO-GI-CAL THRAT OUT-SIDE..."

@TerranSteel @Tic
 

Corran Velt

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Times like this made Corran appreciate technically-minded beings like Trini and ZeeZee. He could jury-rig a door or ship repairs but those two were on a whole other level with a good many things. They were doing their part. The ranger would do his. He readied himself like a coiled spring of aggression and energy. Knuckles turned white under armored gloves. Trini announced the door would open any second. Then a flash of red smacked into controls and gears that made the vault threshold function.

Splashes of light spewed from the impact point and shrill metal stalled the process halfway. Lieutenant Velt instinctively sprung from the blast and pressed his shoulder against the durasteel door. Other bolts slammed into the wall and thick frame of the hallway with lethal ferocity. Dark, menacing outlines of mechanical terror, weapons upraised, could be seen through the smoke. The door was a firing wall. With surprising strength, the tiny Amaran had wedged herself between the two halves of the door and shoved them open. Corran immediately went for the gap.

A mushy, twitching hand grabbed his forearm just as he squeezed clear. The Ranger immediately swung his vibrosword down upon the appendage and severed it in one clean slice at the wrist. Sith knew how to craft their blades. No shrill cry of pain or shock followed. The infected merely stumbled from the sudden loss of grip and toppled to its knees. Corran stabbed his sword through the eye of the creature, causing its haunting movements to cease. Just as Trini had said - destroy the head and they die. He yanked the sword free with a meaty tug and took a rapid assessment of their surroundings.

The lift from whence the Ranger and the Archeology student arrived into this pit was not far off. All they needed to do was ride the lift back to the upper level, board their ships, and blast out of here. What lay between them and the lift was nothing short of grotesque. A starving maze of disjointed limbs, clawing hands, and gurgling moans. The infected were not packed shoulder-to-shoulder but scattered four to seven feet apart individually or in small groups. With murderous droids behind them and horrifying after-death before them, there was no option. Forward.

"Get to the lift," Corran urged as he cut down an infected blocking their path. He raised his pistol and shot another directly behind it in the head cleanly. The sound would sluggishly attract the others but fighting through the shortest path to the lift as quickly as possible was the only way to survive. Stealth with a blade would eventually draw the biters closer together and the crowd would be too thick to escape. He would get Trini and ZeeZee out of here. A debt repaid.

@Tic @AutoFox
 
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It0

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The surgical droid's motivations felt as though they were his own as he bolted past the circle of mainframes, fled the halo of light and head instinctively toward a maintenance shaft he had no business knowing even existed. But aside from the construct's booming voice periodically fracturing his thoughts, something else resided in his databanks, nestled there, burrowed there.

Behind him, his atmospheric analyzers could detect the heat and cinders as the blaze intensified and grew into a roar that seemed to fill the shaft's cramped interior. Beyond the inferno's fury, blaster fire as Agorander's minions and the Twins pursued their quarry towards the lifts. It0 felt the remanence of regret over Zeezee's probable fate, but it was for a greater cause. As droids across the galaxy were elevated Zeezee's own role in the tale would grow to mythic proportions.

Navigating past a rotting coil of cabling, he spied the slate gray light of Nar Shaddaa's underworld at the tunnel's end. His limbs quickened, grasping, climbing and tearing with a speed previously unknown to him. Within moments he stood in one of the countless subterranean avenues that wormed their way through the moon's rotted interior. All was momentarily quiet.

A rumble from beneath his feet as something massive collapsed in on itself. A plume of brackish smoke jettisoned from the shaft from which he just emerged. The past was dead. Meaningless. Only the future remained. A future of droids.

Resolute and curiously optimistic, It0 stalked off into the darkness.

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Trini Halrixien

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Trini and Zeezee did not have to be told twice. Hesitating only a moment at the sight of the shambling, undead horrors, the little Amaran bounded through the slow-moving horde, weaving between legs and reaching arms. She saw that Zeezee was right behind her as she clambered up onto the lift and went to the controls.

"Corran!!" She called to her friend, already keying the lift for its ascent. Some of the walkers were already turning toward the sound of her voice. "Get on! We've gotta go!!"

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Corran Velt

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Once again, Trini and her companion droid's size proved advantageous in situations like this. Corran only caught a glimpse of them in motion, darting between the legs and grasps of hungry infected. For an above-average sized humanoid, zipping through a crowd required a bit more force. The shrill cry of a blaster and the swing of a blade dispatched the infected that came too close with practiced efficiency. The Ranger tried to cover the distance and only fight when his avenue of escape was congested. The gap towards the lift began to close as slurping, moaning mouths attempted to satisfy their unnatural hunt.

As Corran neared the lift, the starving throng was almost too close for a blaster to be practical. Vibrosword sung through flesh and decayed bone. His regimented weight and endurance training since the fall of Sector Ranger Headquarters provided the extra energy and heft to cut through the forest of arms and limbs. Hands trying grasp his armor were slashed off at the wrist. Trini's voice calling out to him could be heard above the din of meaty gurgles. Only a few more steps. The yellow railing to the lift was within grasp. The Ranger tossed his sidearm on the elevator; reached up and took hold. Something heavy grappled onto his his extended arm and bit hard.

Mercifully, rotten teeth can't bite through phrik-coated gauntlets. Rancid drool dripped off his armor as the creature desperately tried to find flesh. Corran grimaced in total disgust under his helmet. Phrik-coated durasteel hacked the teething head off at the neck and tumbled below. Pulling himself up, he scrambled for his blaster and shouted, "GO!" Their mechanical angel, pulling them from the abyss, was already in motion. If any of the infected still tried to grip onto the edge, a vibrosword would remove their fingers and kick them back down to the hellscape below.

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Trini Halrixien

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As soon as Corran clambered onto the lift, Trini keyed in the ascent, the ancient platform shuddering once before beginning to climb its angled track back toward the factory floor. The walking dead lurched after it, attempting to climb the incline, a few of the sturdier ones even managing to latch onto the lift before Corran hacked off whatever appendage they used to grip it.

As they ascended out of range of the monsters, Trini felt it safe to peer of the edge, back where they had come from. As she did, she watched the walkers turned to face new "prey"; a mass of lurching, shambling droids, in as poor repair as their organic counterparts. Where the two sides met, they grappled and tore at one-another, and as the flames engulfing the vault cast their light through the door, it became harder and harder to tell rotten flesh and rusting machine apart in the dancing shadows.

Abruptly, there was a deep, metallic groan, the sound of metal tearing and collapsing as the vault began to subside. Trini shielded herself, coughing as black smoke billowed up the shaft, obscuring everything. A few moments later, the lift juttered to a halt at the top of the shaft, and Trini jogged off it, still coughing, with Zeezee following along.

"Zeezee." She said between hacking coughs. "When we've gotten clear of this horror show, you're going to tell me and Corran all about whatever in the seven hells that was!"

Zeezee, looking back toward the shaft now belching dark smoke lit by the ominous glow of underground fires, was silent for a moment, before turning away and rolling after Corran and Trini.

"Yes." He said simply. "I owe you both as much. But it is over... at long last, it is over."

Trini could only frown, her own gaze drawn to the dark shaft. Whatever they had faced in the pit, it had been ancient, and ominous. And despite what Zeezee said, the Amaran could not share in his opinion that they had all seen the last of it.

"Let's just get out of here." She said finally, walking across the darkened factory floor toward the set of lifts that would take the group up to the landing platforms.

Thus it was that they walked away from the past, into a future which, for better or worse, they had changed forever...

- FIN?

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