2.2.4 Literary adventure - Training Day Pt 4
on the far left is the general and specific risk assessments. You are meant to do fresh risk assessments for each job but given my occupation at the moment and the seriously uncertain nature of what i might or might not be running into means that I've instead got a master document detailing the existance of each plausible type of enemy action in addition to general fuckups. Then I've got secondary documents specifying optimal risk management techniques for each of the possible threats (namely what type of boom to fling in their direction while making tracks).
It is pretty comprehensive list.
The second stack is a pile of little flyers, detailing each of the toys I'll be providing for the mission and how to use them against which targets. it also has prices listed, both for individual units and in bulk if the lads want to purchase some for personal use or the captain wants to purchase enough for platoon wide deployment perhaps even larger. I have included a few extra goodies as well this time, A kind of Napalm grenade which promises to be extremely effective in the deeps, producing a thick black pungent smoke which sinks to the ground and quickly spreads out in a way that the stinkers don't. A short range tracker, good for about a kilometer or so in the deeps and an extremely simple little distractor called a tracer toy. Its marketed as a simple toy for pet owners everywhere, it makes prey sounds and runs away from large things once activated using it's extremely limited droid brain. I did some tests on junkrats and it'll distract most stupider creatures fairly easily and then the predators come for the Toys victims creating self perpetuating cycle of violence happening to someone who isn't me.
The door snaps open and a dark skinned woman steps through. She's a bit taller than me and stands stock straight in her Jackboots and Jodphurs, on her left breast is An Imperial Majors insignia.
She looks me up and down as I grab the last pule of documents from my pack, lay then down neatly down on the table before coming to my best approximation of attention.
"Ma'am."
"So you are the Scavanger I've been hearing so much about." She nearly sneers, I'm guessing the only reason she doesn't is she believes that I'm beneath her.
"Yes, Ma'am. I've been contracted to assist the Lieutenant with the matter of Deep City Operations. I hope that the debrief was satisfactory ma'am." I say cleanly and crisply.
"Hmmm, What is this about a lieutenant?" She asks wryly and my mind comes to a crashing halt.
"A Bhuuhhhh...." I sputter.
"Hmm?" She humms sweetly and the hairs on the back of my neck immediately reach for the roof.
"Sorry Ma'am I was under the Impression that you were Captain Labort's Direct Supervisor Ma'am. I am Alexander of Alexanders Action Archaeologists and I have been contracted by the good Captain to provide training to his subordinate, Second Lieutenant Terra in conducting small unit operations in the Coruscant deep levels Ma'am. Might I ask?"
"Major Sarah Planor, Imperial Security. I would say it is a pleasure to meet you but... Well What do we have here? Stinkers, Flashbangs, Location Monitors. All Very Suspicious." She scans the procure up and down, reading both sides and tutting menacingly.
"These devices could easily be used to act against the empire. I assume you have good reason for attempting to sell them Mister Alexander." She asks coyly.
"Well yes... of course ma'am." I almost trip over myself to answer her. Acutely aware of the small, engraved durasteel cylender hanging around my neck as I do so.
I could just run.
It'd be super easy.
I'd say something like "Look An Eagle!" and then when she looks in the other direction I'd disappear. After that I'd have about an hour and a half before I'd have an entire battallion crawling up my arse but that's enough time to shave my hair, grow my beard out, change clothes, see if my ship is functional and if it is get out of dodge. The other alternative is to go deep. Very deep. Deep enough that my magic will be the only thing to keep me alive.
And I'd be safe, mostly.
Any insurrection would be unlikely to reach the Swamp and Mosquito planet in the nowhere system, orbital bombardment is unlikely to reach beyond he first couple of levels of the planet even if the planetary defence shields fail and any troopers who go into the depths unawares will end up lost, presumed eaten by the locals.
If I do that though I will have to leave everything behind. Chanim, Errai, Ryan and his lot, DQ and my books...
Plus my dead mans switches would go off about a week later releasing a partial copy of my library to every imperial senator, governor, university and random newspaper in the better part of the five most populous systems in the empire. So I'd only have to hide until the first Moff gets too big for his jodhpurs or some droids get in the mood for a bit of historical reenactment before the Empire finds itself with much much larger fish to fry.
I'll file that under plan D for Distinctly Suboptimal.
I puck up a pile of forms carefully
"This.. Haaaa... This is the risk assessments for running an operation in the Coruscant deeps. How to deal with creatures liiiiike..." I flip through the pile of forms. "Rancors, Greater Carnivorous Pikobi and Coruscani Ogres." I lay each of the assessment forms on the table facing the woman. She pulls up one of the rigid steel chairs and mutters under her breath as she reads the documentation, occasionally she glances up at me but I stand non-threateningly on the far side of the table. Ready, willing and able to assist with any inquiries she may have.
"Well, well, well." She says curiously as she pushes the documents away from herself. "These really are fascinating Alexander. Quite. Fascinating. Yet sadly not the reason I am here. Are you aware of the recent uptick of artefacts making their way to the infantry officers of this section?"
Poot.
I could fight my way out, that's the other option.
Well fighting my way out is probably a bit of a misnomer, it would be more accurate to say that I'd have to fuck up enough hardware and disappear enough people that the empire can't tie the incredible amounts of exotic violence going on to me. It would buy me more time, If I do it properly the empire probably wouldn't know I was still alive for a whole day, maybe two. I have seen the empires OODA procedures and they're shit, especially once imperial intelligence gets involved. No one trusts anyone and if there's no video then the chances are I'd be off planet well before they decide that they need to be looking for me.
But by the same token there's a distinctly nonzero chance that I'll end up with a smoking hole through my guts if a stormie gets lucky. The chance of ending up dead is far, far too high.
That plan goes under B for Better Than Nothing.
"Uhhh, Yes. Yes I am aware that the market has become somewhat more saturated of late Ma'am." I venture with what I hope is satisfactory crispness.
"That is one way of putting it." She ventures, pulling the next Creature Assessment document up and scanning it between breaths. "Several officers using artefacts as their sidearms under the appropriate regulation have recently come down with a nasty case of Treason. They claimed, that they were being blackmailed by rebel spies over their swords of all things. Some even had somewhat more exotic weapons." She lowers the sheet and tries to look me in the eyes but i'm staring at the table intently and fidgeting uncontrollably.
"That is tragic ma'am. But all sales I make are final, genuine and paid in full before the item leaves my hands, all notifications are made as required by law and only as required by law. None of my customers should be able to be blackmailed about the legality of the items I provide. However I am quite familiar with historical use and providence of most styles and makes of artefact weapons and I would be happy to provide my assessment of any you may happen to have on hand." I say professionally, not taking my eyes off the table.
"Well Let's see about that." She remarks casually. She clicks her fingers and the door slides open. A stormtrooper enters holding a vibrosword in both hands and places it on the table between us.
I pull up a chair opposite the Major, and seat myself to get a good look at the weapon. I leave my hands at my sides, reaching for the blade is probably a very very bad idea.
"The hilt looks familiar Major, Could you draw it, I'd like to inspect the blade." I say. I'm pretty sure I know this weapon but it never hurts to check.
"You don't want to do it for yourself?" The woman asks.
"Uhhh... N Ma'am, I don't think it would be prudent." She raises an eyebrow at me.
"Very well." she reaches out and pulls the blade free gently with one hands.
I lean over it and watch the blade be drawn smoothly from its scabbard.
"I know this weapon, It belongs to Captain Labort. I sold it too him for Uhhh. About twelve hundred credits I think? It's a Vodoyani pattern Vibroblade with Cortosis weave. The style was popular about twelve to fifteen hundred years ago though without the Vibroblade functionality. If you unlatch the Power cell compartment you will find that the vibrodriver is actually a later model first produced almost seven hundred years ago. Which suggests that it was originally a normal blade which was then converted later. If you look carefully you can see that there are well over a dozen places along the blade where the cortosis has warped and then has been repaired suggesting that whoever owned this blade at some point has survived combat with multiple Jedi or Jedi variants well enough to be able to afford to repair their weapon. It's a fine weapon, I was sad to let it go." I say leaning back.
"Huh." The woman says, leaning back in her chair and sliding the blade back into its scabbard, she leaves it on the table as her eyes attempt to bore into mine. I just keep looking at the table because I'm scared as fuck.
"You do know that dealing with jedi artefacts is quite illegal."
"Yeah. I know that. That's why I stay away from Jedi Artefacts."
"Some would say this sword is a Jedi Artefact."
"Then they'd be wrong. Ma'am, With respect." I glance up at her eyes and she has a cheeky smile on her face. "Like this weapon is well made, very well made, it almost certainly cost more to make this weapon than it would to make a lightsaber, probably belonged to an infantry captain of some kind. Someone who was either well off enough to afford a seriously good weapon like this as a decorative sidearm or someone who specialises in close combat but isn't capable of using a lightsaber safely so they sink a lot of funds into a fine blade like this one. A Jedi would use a lightsaber, every time. If someone tried to blackmail Captain Labort by threatening that this was enough to fall afoul of the Jedi Laws then he should have laughed in their faces and then.... well and then contacted you Major."
"Hmmm" She humms menacingly.
I look at her expectantly and she claps her hands once again.
The door slides open and the stormtrooper enters again, this time he places a short stubby cylinder on the table before removing the sword.
I look at the Major expectantly.
"The power cell has been removed." She answers my unasked question and gently lift the disabled weapon.
"It's a nice example, most sabers are custom made by their owners. Based on texts I've found the only ones which aren't are either student weapons or heirlooms." I heft it between my hands to find the weapon has a reassuring weight to it. With a bit of fiddling I find the maintenance release, unscrew the base of the weapon and slide out it's internals.
"Ohhh. This is a recent one. You can still buy some, most of these parts. I'd have to check. Where did you find it?" I ask.
"A little bit of light Treason." She answers, capitalising the T with raw spite.
"Ah, oh well. Ummm, I have no idea where this comes from. Most of these parts though I could buy in bulk over the hypernet for overnight delivery, there's a lot of similarity to blaster construction. The only really unique component is the Kyber Crystal at the core and honestly, I have no idea where I'd even start to get that from."
"Anything else." She asks animatedly.
"I... Umm. This casing, it's not in very good condition. I mean, it's in excellent condition if this weapon were a few hundred years old or so but..." I tap the casing against the table and it rings dully. "This is Corrosteel alloy, Highly corrosion resistant. It shouldn't be this decayed given the age of the components. The actual components are telling me clone wars at the very oldest, but the casing is either an antique, an actual antique at least five hundred years old or it's artificially aged to appear like an antique." I say placing the casing on the table in front of the major.
"Do you believe that this could be a relic of the clone wars?"
"No... Soldiers take care of their weapons as I'm sure you know. If this was a clone wars weapon it would be well cared for right up until the end of the war, anything which would degrade the casing like this in that amount of time would also render the internals completely unusable. If I had to guess I'd say that this thing is almost new, just dressed up to look like an antique. If you have more than one which match the design and general status that's where I'd look."
I lean back from the table allowing the woman tto gaze at me intently.
"Alex, are you loyal to the empire?"
"Of course." I say immediately, She raises a single eyebrow.
"Did you know that the Republic didn't have a standing military?" I ask, well not really ask, it's a rhetorical question.
"I am aware of that part of our history."
"So am I, I'm also equal parts appalled and disappointed. If the republic dedicated even half a percent of Coruscants GDP to maintaining a military, officer school, the whole nine yards then the clone wars would have never happened. Just the output of this single planet would have been able to crush a fleet ten times the size of the original trade federation fleet blockading Naboo. It would have even facewrecked the fleet in the battle of Genosis. Easily. No exaggeration, based on GDP production and rounding down at every step Coruscant could have maintained an order of magnitude more equipment and material than the CIS had in the beginning of the war using a mere two hundredth of its gross domestic product. That's on a body to body basis and not counting the fact that the B1 droids are literally the most incompetent Class four droid of the last thousand years and that, Major is a Fucking. Low. Bar."
"Even then, having a well trained, moneyed up and experienced officer corp, starship design industry and non commissioned officer tradition would have allowed the republic to ramp up production, recruitment and the requisite logistics trains twice as fast and the war machines that they develop be twice as effective as what they were using even at the middle of the war. It would have certainly stopped those Jedi wankers starting shit as well." I slump back in my chair, rant over.
"So you have disagreements with the Republics military policy." She asks.
"Yeah, it's a biggun. Lots of their other policies are absolutely shite as well Major but frankly, the republic had been teetering on the edge of being a failed state for a while, a long while, but the CIS tipped them over when, by rights they should have been crushed like bugs. Also I wouldn't consider Coruscant a safe place to live during the republic era, A city planet like this without a fleet to protect it and fairly rubbish administration... nah, I'd move to an outer rim planet where the government can at least find it's own arse with a map." I'm hunched over the table and gesticulating aggressively as I say this. 'Cause while the Empire is EEEvil with a capital EEE, the republic was all kinds of garbage as well, many of the downtrodden masses may not have actually noticed the government had changed. Just that the incidental oppression from wanton incompetence has been replaced by the actual oppression of Jackboots and Jodhpurs. I catch myself at the end and lean back sheepishly in deference to the major.
"Your opinion of imperial governance?" she asks.
"Better, on the whole. I'm aware of the political considerations and it's a big job to get rid of the rot but it's getting better faster than I expected given the size of the job." I shrug. It is the truth, the trains do run on time. Of course they're filled with stormies who will ask you to 'Pick up that Can Citizen' but there is now a fair bit of direction and efficiency, Evil Direction and Brutal Efficiency but you can't win'em all.
The Major sizes me up for a few more moments.
"What are your rates?" She asks.
"Uhhhhhh....?" I grunt.
"Sorry. I. Uh... Have a pamphlet in my bag just a moment." I lift my messenger bag off the floor and rummage around for a bit. Eventually I find my Available Services pamphlet, just a quick thing whipped up by DQ but money is money.
"Here." I pass her the pamphlet, it's mostly glossy pictures of a couple of the choice items in my inventory with prices for artefacts, but at the end there's list prices for consultation and expedition guides. Expensive prices.
She reads the pamphlet in silence and I can't help but fidget, less scared than before.
...
...
Eventually she lowers the pamphlet and looks me in the eyes. Hers are a light shade of purple, I gulp visibly and finger the durasteel cylinder sown into the sleeve of my jacket carefully. "Thank you for your time citizen, If I have need of your services again I will be in touch."
She stands from the table and expertly slides the pieces of the lightsaber back together before taking the weapon in one hand and heading for the door.
"Major." I say.
"Yes Citizen?" She asks, half turning.
"Historically it's difficult to have droids manufacture lightsabers, or even professional craftsmen for that matter. The usual fail rate is nine times out of ten unless the one making it is a Jedi variant, if the ones being sold are functional then... well... I'd recommend lots of grenades ma'am. Good Luck." I say nervously.
She looks at my pamphlet. "I do not believe that we will need luck citizen. But thank you for your concern. Also, I believe you undercharge criminally. Good day." She turns on her heel and struts out the door.
It snaps shut with finality and I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Did I jet get hit on by Impsec?
I think I Just got hit on my Impsec.
The door snaps open and Captain Labort swaggers, Blade on belt and grin on face. He takes a seat where the Major was.
"So Alexander. I heard you like dangerous women." He grins at me cheekily.
Fuck me.