New Staff

[YT-66]

It was odd.

Looking at the Galactic Republic Senate once more, as an outsider looking into the guilded cage of Organic Politics, YT-66 felt out of place, but in no way out of depth. Regarding the building with his photo-receptors, he rapidly scanned through his internal memory banks for his own records of the building, in which he had worked all those years ago. No doubt his record was out of date now, but still, what information he held would still be of use in his ruse.

YT-66 was currently stationary on a the back of Rokom T4, part of a stack of Y-Series Astromech Units that had been ordered for delivery some weeks ago, YT-66 replacing one of the units that was currently residing on a scap hauler set to leave the system later that day. He had come accross the group, just as planned, a week ago, fresh from a local dealership - four in total, yellow, grey, red and black.

It was unfortunate that YT-88b had been painted how he had.

Thank the maker for small mercys! YT-66 booped nonchalantly at his platitudes to the creator, remembering how quickly YT-88b had wandered off from the storeroom, only to be blinded by a quick jab to the receptor, and shoved off the 6574th level of the Galactic City. Nobody had noticed YT-66 taking his place, a quick slice of the data manifest changing the last three digits of his predecessors name, to the fated 66 of his own design, and nobody was any the wiser.

At last, after all that monotony, he was on the cusp of infiltrating that building, hunched like a squat rancor, the rotunda itself. For alongside his three compatriots, YT-66 was bound for the staffing office, and from there, into the hands of a Senator themselves. He would have laughed if he coudl, cackled if the feeling had so caught him, but YT-66 was not one for lieveity, especially when still some steps from victory - for the road was long, and filled with perils.

Watching as the Senate Guard approached, like his compatriots - all just as oblivious to his true intentions as the organics - YT-66 kept silent, making the occassionally platitudional beep that the organics seemed to find so humorous, before at last, the four of them found themselves ordered inside,. Through a service door they swept, unnoticed and uncared for, like the dozens of other droids who had passed through that morning, and there he was, inside the side corridor 54-7b, Maintanance, a grubby looking rodian before him, looking bored and a clipboard.

"You," the disgusting organic jabbed its stubby unwashed index finger at YT-66 "Senator Peyvands Office, go." and with that, the Rodian lobbed a small chit with a route map, and sent him on his way. YT-66 beeped appreciativly, much to the Rodians delight, and his own personal chagrin, and went on his way, keeping to the side of the corridor as he saw the 'great and the good' sweeping past him without a second thought, before finally he arrived at the senators door.

Jabbing his interfacing probe into the door, he send a polite message through to the Senator ensconced within, in text form to her communicator - so as to leap over the language divide in one swift motion. "Madam Senator, your new Droid, YT-66, has arrived." the message would read. Retracting the interface, YT-66 sat in the corridor, and waited.

OOC - This is a combat, PvP and general meanness disabled thread.

 

[Primula Peyvand]

Primula sat at her desk, frivilously working on tedious amounts of paperwork that she really didn't enjoy doing. While she originally didn't have any idea what constitutional law interpretation was, now she found herself in the middle of constantly reading the same lines over and over and trying to determine a clear and concise interpretation of said lines.

Thankfully, after her last assistant met a rather very untimely demise, she had arranged for a temporary replacement. While she preferred organic staff, there was a bit of shortage of qualified personal due to the current war with the hutt cartel. This, among other factors, led to her having no choice but to accept a droid as a helper for the time being.

So enamoured in her work though, she almost missed the hailing screen appear at her desk, indicating said droid had arrived. Had it not been for the almost annoying dinging sound that accompanied it, she more than likely would have never noticed the message. As it became louder she quickly realized what it was and pressed the button to release the security doors and allow the little droid in. Standing, though perhaps feeling a bit silly as she realized she was standing to meet something that wouldn't understand why she was standing, she smiled at the droid as it would enter before greeting it as warmly as she could, despite her annoyance at the stacks of paperwork on her desk.

Welcome, yt. Well have to come up with a better designation for you one day, that'll never do. Seeing as how you're a slightly older model, are you equipped with the proper coding for this new position? Also, when was your last memory sweep?

Maintenance around here has gotten ridiculously lax as we keep sending off any quality personnel to the GAR, I'll probably end up having to do the memory cleaning myself.

She said jokingly, though she wasn't sure if the joke would be lost on the droid or not. She was actually very curious as to what sort of personality the little droid might have. She found it so curious how they managed to develop little quirks and such.

 

[YT-66]

When was your last memory sweep? the Senator began, Primula Peyvand rising from her seat to greet him as YT-66 made a rapid scan of the room, and considered the various ways by which he could cause some damage. Fortunately, lacking the organic 'face' these flesh-bags so enjoyed, such a scan would be lost on his new mistress, his inner feeling of delight lost behind the metallic surface he presented to the world.

The human looked stressed, its poor attempt at humor instantly being interpreted by YT-66 as a half-arsed attempt to 'warm' to him. However, he considered it further, his deep seated paranoia taking over, wondering just why the politician had inquired about his memory wipe status. She's onto me, he assumed, before calculating the probability of that eventuality in a few seconds, and dismissing it as unlikely.

"Beep beep, woooop." he responded. If YT-66 had teeth, he would just have lied through them - however he was taking the calculated risk that the Senator lacked the technical know-how to check for herself, and, even if she did, that would be a problem he could deal with...the Corellian way.

 

[Primula Peyvand]

She sat back down as the droid answered her question. She mused to herself that at least something had gone right for her recently.

Perfect then, you'll have adequate space for the tasks you'll be assigned with. If you could please, lets get started. As you can see im conpletely swamped with paperwork.

She said, pointing to the large stack of papers she had just signed or instead refused to sign, indicating she needed him to deliver them to the accountants several levels below. She just assumed it would know what to do with the papers, if it was meant to be a replacement surely it would have the data. Then she remembered how recent it's memory wipe was and wondered if it actually would have retained that data. She pursed her lips before raising her head back up.

You know where accounting is right? If they did a full memory wipe I'm not going to be happy. They didn't do a full memory wipe right?

 

[YT-66]

You know where accounting is right? The humiliation, YT-66 lamented silently, offering a cheerful beep of acknowledgment to placate the Senators love of the quirky, as he ran through his built in map of the Senate, and chucked out a small projection of the route there via holo, replacing the man after a few seconds with a large blue thumbs up sign. Of course I know where accounting is! his gears grumbling to themselves, as with another boop, he set about his task.

Leaving the Senators Office, he went directly for the service lift, and to the relevant floor, progressing quickly to the accounts department, and grumpily slapping down the documentation onto some bored Ithorians desk. "Beeep Wrrrrch." the droid ordered, motivating the slow moving mammal with a short jab of his shock prod.

Sitting up with a yelp, the Ithorian got to work, rubbing his arm sorely as YT-66 slowly backed out of the room, and returned to the Senators office.