The Long Dusty Trail

[Chairdor]

The Kothlis shadowport was renowned for it's ability to stay undetected, which the droid felt was a contradiction, but he wasn't worried about that today. Instead he was concerned with locating a woman by the name of Icharii. That's all he had to go on from his contact on Naboo, so following rumors whispers and sometimes just plain guess work, the droid had ended up here, the infamous den of a particularly strange species in the galaxy, the smuggler.

Smugglers could be of the lowest or highest stock depending solely on how they used the power in their discretion, for discretion was more powerful than any blaster and could get you out of more trouble than the fastest ship. Discretion was Icharii's power it seemed, the shadowy woman seemed to keep her contacts quiet in a variety of ways, her favorite tactic was of course to kill them, but the droid had come across several people said to be tied to her on the patient lists of psych wards. Whoever this woman was, she was very intelligent and she used her every brain cell to stay one step ahead of Hiro, so naturally his only recourse was to leap rather than step. Now all the droid had to worry about was whether or not he had run into a trap.

As per usual the droids first stop was in a cantina, this one quite lazily named The Shadowport Bar. As he walked into the rather uncreative establishment, he found it's inside to be equally sparse in voice and creativity, luckily the people inside seemed to color the place plenty. Walking past tables of inter species card games and odd spectacles that the droid had no reference or file of, he sidled up to the bar and took his seat,

"What's a droid got business at a bar fer," the tender said gruffly. Hiro tipped his hat before producing the cord that charged him,

"Well pluggin me in for the night would be a good start pardner," he said as he flipped the man a pair of credits for the trouble, as he felt the sudden surge of new power, he continued, "And I'd love a spot of oil if ya got it, even cooking will do,"

The tender sighed then moved on as Hiro flipped a few more credits his way. As the tired looking man shuffled to the back to take a look the Droid sat back and looked about the cantina, while everyone was different in look and occupancy, he couldn't help but feel a sense of attachment to each and everyone. Sometimes he like to play audiotapes of every cantina he had been in at once, the din and the noise making it feel as if he was in the largest and busiest bar ever. But tonight the droid just wanted a moment of peace, the last he might get before he returned to tracking down an ingenious psychopath

 

[Silver Cutlass]

"Damn it, let go of me! Dad! Help! Dad!"


Opening his eyes, the old smuggler sighed. It was the memory again, the recurring remembrance of the day that has since changed his life. Nero was a tough old dog, but there was still an ounce of love in his mean, bitter heart. Sera was the only person in the galaxy he loved, and he would not rest until he could find her. Wanting to drown the memory for now and ease his sorrow, Nero had docked at the Kothlis Shadowport after his little trip to Tatooine, to refuel and lay low after a run-in with a bounty hunter in the Jundland Wastes.

Spotting a cantina, Nero walked into the place, yearning for some alcohol to drown his memories. The old placed seemed just like the cantinas back on Tatooine: unoriginal, unclean, and antiquated. Places like these were almost home to Nero, as much time as he spent in them. Slowly dragging his feet along, he found an empty seat at the bar, right beside an unknown figure, and plopped down in it.

As the bartender drifted near him, Nero caught his attention and ordered a drink. "Wouldn't happen to have a Denon Daiquiri, would you?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, as he pulled a small credit chip from his pocket and slid it over to him. Bowing his head as he waited for his drink, the memory of that day still hung in his head, a remorseful reminder of what he could have done, and the problem that he needed yet to rectify.

 

[Chairdor]

OOC: Sorry for the wait felt uninspired for a bit

As the droid took in his charge he began to recall bits of data, random bits at first, battles he'd been in, friends he met, all of it seemed to flow back and forth like the tide, present fully then receding just as quick, a deep emptiness left in it's wake. Hiro again wondered what his purpose was as he once more tried to bring up that data packet, he knew it was present, he had found the source files, but they were garbled meaningless, they only made sense that one time in that bar on Corelia. Hiro was shaken from his frustrated reverie as the clack of a plastic bottle fell before him, followed by a dissimilar clack of a glass next to it.

Hiro lifted the bottle of motor oil and read the label, Garan's Best. Hiro usually drank Mom's friendly Robot Oil when he got motor oil, but he really needed to get a crick in his neck out so he made an exception. Pouring a small glass, the droid slowly removed his gas mask and put it delicately on the bar, the battered and bruised piece reflecting its owner. Taking the glass to his 'lips' the droid drank lightly then downed the glass his inner workings maneuvering the vital fluid to where it was most need in his head unit. Slowly his mouth began to rotate to test the waters and after a moment the droid poured another glass and set it to his lips again. Before he could down it however, he noticed the perpetual stare the bartender gave him as he poured the older man his drink. Apparently Hiro's maintenance movements had been quite a sight as the distracted tender overfilled his newest customer's glass.

Hiro moved his seat slightly as the free liquid poured out over the bar and the barkeep noticed causing him to mutter an angry apology before leaving the bottle as penance and going to the back to fetch a mop and towel. As the droplets of the spilled drink began to pitter patter over the bar the droid noted the man's grim look,

"Why so glum chum? Ya ain't cryin over spilled alcohol are ya?"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

The droid's comment brought a slight smirk to Nero's face. He hadn't paid attention to the droid before hand, but he did see the bartender spilling his drink. None of it poured over on him, and since he got a whole bottle of Daiquiri he didn't quite mind. "While a spilled bottle of this stuff might be worth crying over, its not that. Just some old memories I'd like to drown for the night." Grabbing the glass and taking a sip of his drink, Nero felt the smooth alcohol trickle down his threat, soothing his taste buds immensely.

As the bartender came over with the mop to clean up his mess, Nero got out of his way and took another seat next to the male-like robot. "Ya know, I don't think I've ever seen a droid like you before, and sure as hell don't recall seeing one drinking in a cantina." Tipping his hat to the android, Nero nodded to him and introduced himself. "Name's Nero. So what brings you to this place?" He inquired.

Times were changing, he thought. The Sith were taking over the galaxy, and now droids drank in cantinas with the rest of the sentient life-forms. This galaxy sure was something else nowadays.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro noted the mans concern with memory, he had a similar if opposite concern. As he took another swig of the unfamiliar oil brand he put his glass down quickly as the black liquid worked it's way into his hands, slowly but surely the lubricant coiled it's way down various tubes until it arrived into the droids palms and fingers. Flicking them up and down and then into his palm Hiro noted a bit of positive feedback from the experience, like organics who got a chemical response from eating chocolate, it felt good. As he continued to move his hands to ensure the oil was quality and working properly he detected the bartender had begun sloshing a mop across the floor and swearing under his breath, he also noted the man whom the alcohol had nearly spilled on had shifted and now sat next to him.

As he swiveled his bar stool to be more conversational with the older man Hiro's twitching hands came to a stop as one was placed upon his chin as if in thought on the man's comment that a droid like Hiro was a rare sight. In truth he was going through local databases on droid makes and models, those databases not hidden under heavy encryption in the Shadowport of course. Going through miles of data within a few seconds, Hiro blinked a few times then responded,

"Ya know partner I'd be inclined to agree it's a strange sight and as fer my make, I don't think I'm a registered model so it makes sense ya haven't seem my like afore," he returned the hat tip with one of his own before replying to the greeting, "Howdy Nero, names Hiro," Hiro's humor detection noted the rhyme in their names, though it was a weak response so he didn't comment on it.

As he began to look at the man further, something began to occur in the droid's optics, slowly his view began to rotate and shift, when he tried to take manual control and was immediately denied, some internal mechanism was at work as he looked upon the man. Eventually his optics righted themselves but then a series of stranger reticules appeared over Nero's facial features. Slowly a calculation of percentage began to formulate flinging from as high as 99% to as low as 2. As the droid tried to figure what he was figuring the calculation reached it's conclusion and displayed the words Hardat Moricotti, Facial recognition 78% The droid blinked twice at this trying to figure out exactly what this meant. While a direct approach might bring forth some results in information something told the droid that this Nero was Hardat, but he stored the name for future reference.

"Sorry pardner, got me a glitch of some kind," Hiro said with a laugh brushing off the lapse in conversation, "While this isn't always a kosher topic in a Shadowport, you seem like a respectable sort, what brings you out to the lawless lands? I'm here fixin to take down somebody called Icharii,"

Hiro immediately noticed a look of recognition from a Pazaak table nearby, and was sure to keep a motion sensor directly on the table to insure that figure didn't leave. Meanwhile outwardly he looked to Nero eager for his response, he seemed to have an affinity with this fellow for some reason or another.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

The droid's introduction brought a 'hmph' to Nero's lips, noting the coincidence of their name's similarity. Taking another swig of his beverage, Nero noticed the droid seemed to be staring at him, without saying anything. He was about to ask if there was a problem, then he began talking again, saying something about a glitch in his system. In response to the question, Nero batted at his trench coat, knocking some dust off of it. "Just got back from a trip to Tatooine, came here to refuel my ship." He stated truthfully.

All that mess on that dustbowl had left him pretty darn tired. Chasing after a lost Jedi Padawan in the Jundland Wastes, while having to deal with a dumb-as-dirt Chiss and a bounty hunter had taken a lot out of the old dog. One day he'd retire from crap like this, but that day wouldn't come until he found Sera. And for now, times like these in a cantina were the only moments of rest he would get.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro gave a small nod as he heard the name Tatooine, he'd been there twice now and on both occasions the planet had left him worse for wear, though only mechanically as he managed to sieve a few friends out of the mountains of sand. The fellow seemed tired and honest, as the droid thought on those two terms it began a cross reference and found he often calculated those two feelings together, much more often than tired liars at least, it seems truth had just as much weight as a web of lies. Noting his charge was almost complete and his chassis was now properly lubricated, the droid tipped his hat and removed the cord attaching himself to the bar before saying,

"Well fraid I gotta cut this short-like, but I can't give this target a minute's rest ya know?" as the droid turned and headed toward the door his sensor still watched the man at tha pazaak table like a hawk. There was a seventy three percent chance he'd make his move when Hiro began to pass through the front door and the odds were in Hiro's favor that day as the gambler did just as h predicted. As the man rose and brandished his gun, the droid turned his head and issued a low powered sonic blast from his mouth which instantly scattered the chips on the table, knocked the seated men to the floor, and smashed the armed man against the back wall where he slowly slithered down into a sitting position, a trail of red coming from the back of his head.

After this sudden turn of events silence filled the cantina as the heavy clunk and metallic ting of Hiro's spurred boots made their way closer to the barely conscious man. Moving him into a more comfortable sitting position and taking his gun, the droid ripped the blaster in half and threw both pieces to opposite ends of the bar before speaking,

"Now there's two possibilities I figure here, either you're not a fan of droids in cantinas, or you know this Icharii lass. Now seein as how robotism is a heavily backwater viewpoint in these enlightened days, I'm gonna assume the former. So...would you mind tellin me whatcha know pardner?" with his last word the droid brandished a single Protector revolver, spinning it once before letting it rest as a reminder to the would be killer and anyone else in the cantina that he was not one to be trifled with.

Slowly the man began to mumble, rather than telling him to speak up, the droid merely amplified his own audio equipment and focused on the man,

"She...shes the devil...devil her..."

"That's great that's great, so she's the devil, where is hell then?"

The man looked at Hiro, suddenly very aware of some great threat about to consume him and managed to say one last thing, "Hell is other people," before his mouth began to foam a thick white. The droid let go of the man and watched as he died on the floor, noting the symptoms of death and white foam he concluded the cause of death rather quickly, "Cyanide capsule, but he didn't bite it...must've been activated elsewhere,"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Nero nodded to the man as he lifted his glass to take another sip of the tasty drink. Bringing the glass into view, the old man swirled it around a couple times, examining it, before something else caught his attention. At the sound of a tussle behind him he turned his head, and just as he did he heard a loud blast of noise, which caused him to put the glass down and cover his ears. Once the sound quit, he uncovered his ear holes and saw Hiro standing over a hunched man against a wall.

He watched the conversation until the man foamed at the mouth and seemingly perished. At that moment, he knew the droid must not be in too good of a situation. Looking back at his glass of Daiquiri, Nero shrugged and chugged down the last of the drinking glass' contents before placing it back on the bar and walking over to the mechanical man and his dead shooter. "This target of yours must be pretty popular if she's got thugs willing to die for her." He said shortly, making the assumption that this man had some relation with the woman he spoke of earlier.

"One of the things I've learned in my years: If you're gonna stir up some trouble, make sure you have ample firepower." He remarked. Whoever this Hiro was, he seemed an alright droid. And alright men were few and far between in this galaxy nowadays.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro nodded at the older man's sage advice as the man fell to the floor, the last commands his now dead mind had given now sputtering through his eerily shaking limbs. Moving his duster in such a way as to reveal his other Protector revolver and grenades, the droid walked amongst the stunned and the drunk and silently calculated on what the man had said, Hell is other people. For a moment the Droid merely thought of it as a tribute or a quote, but something told him in his skepticism matrix that merely being cryptic wasn't the man's intent. He had such a look of horror on his face, long before he had been poisoned even. Taking a moment to approach the bar to see the grumbling bartender fetch another mop he shut off his optic servers for a moment and rerouted the power to computing images within his central processor, essentially mimicking imagination.

Slowly an image formed of the man dying, a small device, perhaps hidden in his tooth breaking causing his demise. Hiro didn't handle him roughly thus activating it and the man seemed casual enough before the incident. Reactivating his optics Hiro came to a conclusion, scanning the room thermally he looked specifically to the pockets of the men, noting many firearms still slightly heated from use, the droid continued to look until he spotted his quarry. Lifting himself from his bar stool once more the droid loomed over a Rodian who ignored him as he dealt into Sabaac, the earlier death apparently not even slowing the pace of the high-stakes game. Hiro decided to follow the aliens cue and merely took a seat to watch the action. Cards went down and immediately grimaces and smiles flashed across the various faces of the various organisms at the table. The Rodian however was impassive as he didn't even look at his cards slowly betting the same amount every time. Eventually the cards came out and it turned out the Rodian's cards were absolute garbage, snickers came from the winner as he raked in the chips and Hiro commented,

"Well friend, you just have no luck at all," before cold cocking him with his robotic fist and dragging him away from the table. As the alien had busted out after that round, no one seemed to care as the droid searched the dazed man's pocket, finding what he was looking for, a small trigger device. Inspecting it and comparing it to devices he had seen before and had been stored in his technology matrix he found it was a custom make, crafted rather than manufactured. Truly this woman was a professional. As the Rodian stirred, the bartender called out,

"Stop killing my customers! Outside," Hiro merely shrugged and began to drag the Rodian outside, as he walked he remembered the conversation he was having with the older fellow and turned before saying, "You seem like a nice enough feller, would you mind gettin this guys legs I don't wanna scuff the floor,"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

This whole mess was getting stranger by the second. As Hiro did his own thing, Nero just stared at him questioningly with a raised eyebrow, trying to figure out what in the hell he was doing. Eventually, the droid migrated over to the Sabacc table, and curious as he was, Nero shadowed him over, observing the few hands played and scoffed as a Rodian player busted out so easily, and took even more notice as Hiro said something to him and proceeded to punch him out.

As he started to drag the unconscious body outside, the droid asked if Nero would help him. Considering he did volunteer himself a minute ago, he figured why not. "The stuff I get myself into." He whispered to himself, citing his skill at getting caught in strange and wild events such as this. Bending his knees, Nero grabbed the alien's feet and proceeded to help him outside.

"So, what's this bum good for?" He inquired, not knowing why the Rodian was knocked out by the droid.

 

[Chairdor]

As Hiro hefted the Rodian up with the aid of Nero he listened to his inquiry though didn't immediately respond as he was not entirely sure exactly if this individual would be helpful or if he would wake up foaming at the mouth as well. Once outside Hiro took the waking Rodian from Nero and put him against the wall. The Rodian rolled slightly to the side and muttered, "Five more minutes,"

"I'll give ya less than one pardner,"

Immediately the Rodian jolted awake the sight of a Revolver in his face,

"Now this is real easy friend, you're a murderer, this is clear you killed that fellar in there with this," Hiro lifted the gleaming trigger device once in the Rodian's pocket, the alien slapped his pockets noting the familiar indent in his pants was gone, that was the genuine article. Staring down the barrel of the gun for a moment the Rodian ceased all movement. At first Hiro was frightened he was poisoned as well, but eventually he just began laughing.

"Theres nothing I can tell you, you don't already know,"

"How about you tell me what you know and I'll be the judge of that," Hiro replied, his usual congenial tone shifted downward purposefully to sound more menacing. In response, the Rodian looked the droid dead in the eye, his large souless black pupils staring through the steel of the droids head before saying,

"I'm just a trigger man,"

And then his head exploded.

Hiro noticed the small beam of infrared from the first shot and quickly shouted,

"Get down!"

Leaping behind some rubble the Droid drew his pistols and was prepared to look out to see where the shooter was, but ducked just as quickly as another shot rang overhead, destined to tear his head in two had he not fallen down. Whoever was firing upon them knew what they were doing, unable to move from the steady and accurate shots Hiro called out,

"I'm pinned pardner can ya see anythan?"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

When the first shot was fired, and it was evident that it was not Hiro who fired it, Nero immediately ducked back into the doorway of the cantina, drawing his blaster pistol while doing so. Flat against the doorway, the old smuggler made sure the shots were not coming opposite of him, thus placing him into the line of fire, before looking over to the droid, pinned behind some rubbish on the street. Smirking at his question, Nero quickly popped his eye out from the corner, examining real quickly if there was anything down the street parallel to them.

Nero squinted his eyes as he peered down the street, noticing what appeared to be a figure down several blocks, half in the shadows, but slightly visible, especially with the red beam shooting out from him. As another shot rang out, Nero ducked back behind cover before speaking. "3 or 4 blocks down the street, at your 11:45." He called out, readying his blaster pistol for a gunfight. "On your call."

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro heard the smash of the bullet on the side of the building the pair had hunkered down by before he heard Nero's information. Noting the shooters advantageous position, the small range of his own arms and the massive distance the pair would have to cross all while in the open, the droid could only make one call,

"CHARGE!"

His logic servos screaming against the rash choice, yet something else silencing them, the droid rushed forward his boots clacking against the cracked streets. As he entered the valley a shot rang inches from his optic scanners causing his vision to blur for a moment, when the blur ended Hiro used his binocular vision to look at the shooter more closely. What he saw was a young woman with some kind of neckerchief masking her face, she shouldered a massive rifle of some kind and noting it's fixed position he relayed some potentially life saving information to the chum he had inexplicably dragged into a gun fight,

"She's using a fixed position gun, it's scary accurate but slow as mollases, keep movin or stop movin forever!"

As he spoke, the cowboy robot continued to duck and dive, watching as the woman moved her rifle just a split second after the fact, he noted she was no longer firing most likely due to a restrictive set of ammo forcing her to pick her shots carefully. Moving forward half a block, Hiro realized the next expanse was even more sparsely covered than the are he had just left, so reaching into his jacket he pulled out a trust smoke grenade, flinging it in the sniper direction, he watched as she slowly was obfuscated as the little smoky orb filled the air with an opaque wall of safety.

Hiro thinking he had given himself a little breathing room, slowed slightly only to speed up just enough to dodge another shot, the closeness of the beam cutting a hole in his jacket. Calculating how she might have made that shot, Hiro continued to move about as he did without the smoke before coming to a conclusion he also relayed to Nero,

"Shes usin some kind of sound amplifier!"

As Hiro thought on that fact, he immediately formed an idea, as the smoke began to clear, he stopped dead in his tracks, a beam quickly moved it's way to his head and just as the woman pulled the trigger, Hiro released a sonic blast from his mouth directly at her. The effect was instantaneous as the sniper leaped from her position, so startled and pained by the sudden blast to her ears that she momentarily forgot the precipice she was so close to. She didn't forget long and never forgot after, as it was her final thought as she slipped off the building and hit the pavement below.

Resting at last, Hiro relaxed his taxed servos and turned back to the older man who had spotted the sharp eyed vixen,

"Preciate the help pardner, I feel plum bad for draggin ya into this crazy mess,"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

Nodding to the droid, despite how rash the call might be, Nero followed, running and crouching as best he could, to make a smaller target of himself. The woman's shots were few and far between, and with Hiro's information of it being a fixed gun position, he knew all he had to do was keep ahead of the gun's barrel and stay alive. Ducking and weaving down the street, eventually they caught up to her position, where a brief exchange occurred between the shooter and the droid, ending with the girl a few levels down on the pavement.

At Hiro's apology, Nero smiled back at the droid. "No problem, Hiro. Ain't nothing like a gunfight to keep the reflexes sharp, anyhow." He stated, before looking back at the chick splatted across the street. "I presume that to be the Icharii miss you were tracking?" He remarked, before returning his gaze back to the droid.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro heard Nero's remark and questioned it himself, was this Icharii and even if she was, how was the droid going to confirm it. So approaching the woman, crimson red driblets forming tiny streams from the back of her head. Hiro stood over the woman, her eyes still open in shock, in pain. Kneeling he pressed his metallic fingers upon her face to close them forever, his touch was cold, her skin was still warm, yet he was alive and she was dead. As the droid stood again he began to search her body for marks of identification, but the body was completely bare of anything but weapons and rations. The woman didn't even have any markings on her armor to identify it's make.

Stepping back from the corpse, Hiro watched as the empty street began to fill, people walking out from their hiding spots, apparently the ambush was common knowledge to the people of the Shadowport, though having an ear to the ground all your life does leave you privy to information others might miss. Walking over to Nero, the droid shrugged, honestly baffled as he said, "Pardner I couldn't tell her from Eve, could be her, could be some merc,"

Mildly disappointed that he couldn't honestly gather the bounty after his long hunt, Hiro walked over once more to stare very closely at the young woman, her flaxen hair permanently reddened by the coagulating blood still bubbling from her fractured skull. As the droid looked down, motionless as the corpse below him, his optics began to do additional scans. Everything seemed normal, no scars, no tatoos, skin and hair of normative genetic variety, no cybernetic add-ons. The droid was about to give up when a small percentage counter pulled up, the same he had seen on Nero, slowly it went up and then down as different features on the dea woman's face were emphasized. After a moment a small font appeared by the woman's face reading, Cinder Lan 56% Match noting this couldn't be her then, Hiro went on to wondering who Cinder Lan was, and if it had anything to do with the video that kept playing...filled with questions and no answers in sight the droid returned to Nero,

"Sorry for the broodfest pardner...it's just been a long road gettin here, and now I don't know if I even arrived,"

 

[Silver Cutlass]

At the droid's response, Nero shook his head, before digging into his mind, thinking about what to do. Of course, this was Hiro's business, not his own, but since he volunteered to help, he might as well do something actually beneficial. Crossing his arms, Nero began to speak his thoughts. "If that's not her, then we're not finished here." He pointed out the obvious. His thoughts still running, he paused to look at Hiro, the droid dressed in clothing, before coming up with something.

"I don't know a thing about your capabilities, but think you can slice into a HoloNet Receiver, maybe check logs within the past few hours to see if Icharii made any communications to the dead bar-slugs or our shooter? I don't know how much information you have on her, but it wouldn't hurt to see if you recognize a name or one of these people's voices." He stated, referring to the three dead beings they had been involved with tonight. Nero didn't fancy himself a detective, but if there was one thing he did have, it was a little bit of common sense.

 

[Chairdor]

As Hiro continued to view the young woman's corpse it suddenly occurred to him that by and large he was halfway or more responsible for the deaths of three people. Then thinking further he noted the long line of corpses he had left in his wake, people every one, people with dreams and ideals and ideas for their future and Hiro had robbed them of their life. True the droid had been threatened by them, fought them, dueled them, but that didn't make them any less dead, question was did it in anyway justify his acts. As color drained from the woman's face, her final expression a grimace of impact softened only slightly by her closed eyes Hiro watched as all the color she had lost flowed from her into a nearby gutter, her life blood mixing with the muck of the streets. Pressing a cold unfeeling hand to his hat, he removed it and placed it upon his chest for a moment.

Hearing Nero's suggestion lifted him from his reverie for a moment as he thought on that as a plan and then on this whole hunt. This psychotic woman had obvious coerced these lackeys to die for her to give her time to escape, but that coercion and their deaths wouldn't have occurred if he hadn't been pursuing her in the first place, was the droids perceived good, leading to greater evils, his logic core struggled with the open ended questions, taking a few cycles before sputtering in protest, the problem was impossible, theoretical, no hard data.

Noting the man's suggestion Hiro did just as he bid taking a moment to note the various encryption levels of the Holo receivers in the area, he noted that everyone had some form of security from the personal receivers to those belonging to businesses, despite the uniformity of the encryption level every code appeared different, some apparenlty formulated from scratch making their deciphering all but impossible to Hiro's limited specs. Luckily the droid didn't have to do a lick of code cracking before Icharii's particular code and location was made clear to him. In the middle of the list lie a singular signal, unlike all the others it was one way, a simple send back of jumbled code led to the receiver rejecting the messaging, the resulting code revealing the area of where the receiver was located, when Hiro saw where Icharii was his optics stuttered for a moment in disbelief as he turned his head to a nearby alley only to now notice Icharii standing there, noting that she had been noticed she opened her palms and gave a single mocking clap.

She was a middle aged woman, hair slightly graying, skin sagging, she was 'past her prime' as organics might say. Still she seemed confident as she strode between Hiro and Nero and looked directly at the older man before saying,

"I don't know you..."

Then turning to face the droid her face lit up with a knowing smile before pointing,

"You...you I know,"

"Well then ma'am I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage," Hiro replied before pulling a slug shooter, "This outta even up the odds,"

Icharii merely smiled for a moment before looking down at the street and laughing,

"You hunted me so long...so tirelessly, I wondered for a long time why you didn't sleep...I watched you...you see, then I realized you were a droid...now that was a kick...people call me crazy...people call me crazy yet cyborgs hunt people down to kill them for money...I'm not crazy...galaxies crazy..."

For a moment Hiro was at a loss as the woman continued to sway laughing lightly as she continued to stare at the ground.

"Ma'am I-" he began before she started to scream and pulled from her dress a small orb, Hiro noting it was a thermal detonator yelled, "Move!" before diving into the nearby alley behind a pile of stones.

 

[Silver Cutlass]

There was a pause as Hiro went about doing something, appearing to do as Nero suggested, which he used to think briefly. He constantly wondered how in the hell he got himself into situations like these, and it seemed he knew the answer: He threw himself into it. Back at the bar, he volunteered to help the droid. On Tatooine, he accepted to hunt down the lost Jedi girl. He always leaped into these problems, and yet, he always wondered how he got into them in the first place.

Reason was, Nero guessed, was that he got something of a thrill from it, his old bones enjoying running along and tracking down a lost Padawan in the desert, his little-degraded eyes loving to take shots at mercenary thugs. Now he wondered, how could he take some much enjoyment in this while he should be spending his time finding Sera, rather than having fun. He frowned and shook his head, and that was when she appeared.

A middle-aged woman came waltzing out from an alley way, clapping her hands as she came between Nero and the droid Hiro. Though he didn't know who she was, it was evident she was not on their side, which made Nero squeeze the grip of his blaster pistol, which was still in his hand, even harder. The woman looked at Nero first and remarked that she did not know him. "Chances are, there's a damn good reason for that." He stated back to her, his blaster pistol now at his side.

She then spoke to Hiro, who replied back before she went into a short little monologue about the droid chasing her. He didn't know for sure, but something about the woman made Nero back up a few steps back. And his suspicions proved right when she started screaming and pulled, of all things, a thermal detonator. Acting fast, Nero's blaster pistol flew up and he fired a shot, aimed just below her shoulder to prevent her from throwing the grenade.

Not checking to see if his shot connected, he turned around and took off as fast as possible, making it into a nearby alley way just as an explosion occurred behind him, the sound of rushing air making him leap behind a dumpster to avoid the fragmentation and pure explosive force.

 

[Chairdor]

It was over in a flash and yet that flash seemed to last an eternity. Hiro's optics possessed a tiny camera, each moment was individually captured, every single fragment of a second a separate photo that was placed along side the other, an animated world. Going over those final frames again and again and again Hiro's logical processors failed to kick in. One moment there, a smile across her lips, the heat of Nero's blaster bolt burning into her shoulder, the detonator aloft, a beep of the transceiver going off as it was activated upon release from her hand.

Then the next frame, pure white, energy, heat, fade to black as his optics shield themselves. A defense mechanism designed both due to the fragility of the equipment and upon reflection also to keep the bot from seeing such horrors as that. When all was said and done Hiro walked over to view the smoking crater where the mad woman had made her move. It appeared her hope was to destroy herself and Hiro with her, but in the end even in that failure she succeeded in escaping him forever. If there was a life beyond this one, and a hell for the wicked, the soulless droid had no way of pursuing her.

Walking over to Nero to help him up if he needed it, the droid while recently recharged noted how very tired he was of this simple chase. Mumbling a simple,

"Thanks kindly pardner,"

He began to walk on to the port to seek another nameless faceless crew to take him to another nameless faceless world. All the while as he walked, he wondered what was the difference between himself and that singular flashing moment, that separation between life and death. When droids die, if they can, do they merely fade, is it black, is it like sleep...do they dream of electric sheep?