The Last Sentinel
Locations
Tia’s Apartment, The Hub
Factions
Players
Tia O'Mandalorio (Laurie)
NPCs
BX-917
Tattle (TTL-8)
Lt. Lee Meriweather
Agent Lee Rambaud
Short Public Excerpt/Summary
Game Date: 25.Esk.35 ABY
Tia notices that the silent droid platoon charged with her protection on Nigita have been guarding a large and possibly ominous equipment crate in the alleys near her home. She reaches out to the commander, BX-917 to clear up the reason behind the new arrival.
The comlink pings. “Hey, 917.” Tia’s voice comes over his comm. “I hope I’m not bothering you off-duty. It's been a while since we talked - you in the neighborhood?” [ Contact Confirmation: Protectee One, This unit is pleased to inform you that standard patrol route offset will be complete in 00:03:25. This unit will reroute to Habitat Main Entry upon completion. Do you require additional units? Tonal analysis does not indicate stress inflection, confirmation please that this is not an emergency situation. Codephrase: "Artisan" appropriate to trigger immediate response. ] - BX-917 replies. "Thank you, 917. No, there's no emergency situation, no additional units needed. But if you'd be willing to stop by after your patrol, it would be lovely to see you." [ Reply Confirmation: Protectee One, ETA 00:02:55. This unit is pleased to be of assistance. ] - BX-917 replies. "Thanks again. See you soon."
Two minutes and fifty five seconds later, the door chime rings and Tattle pops his head inside the house. "There's a Combat Droid outside. Funny guy arrived on the stoop and waited two seconds before ringing the doorbell." he says in Huttese. Tia chuckles, before responding in the same, "That'll be 917. He's nothing if not punctual. Go ahead and let him in, Tattle." The door opens and the deceptively old looking combat droid walks in, it's heavy blaster carbine in a mag-lock on his shoulder, with a heavy vibroblade on the other. 917, like all the Vigil's BX droids, have the same gold burnished stripe on the left arm, the same meticulously worn armor. The same decades old appearance, all in the name of appearing familiar and forgettable. When the reality could not be further from the truth. All that distinguishes this one from any other is the red lettering with his designation, and what you think is the command chevron next to it. There's some undecipherable text around the designation, but you suppose that is the language Sabbath told you they all "mystically know" and you wonder if he can read it. BX-917 walks into the parlor, his head on a swivel, optical sensors focusing around the room in a clear pattern of advanced situational awareness. He comes to "rest" in front of Tia. [ Inquiry: Protectee One, May this unit be at-ease? ] - He begins. Tia smiles at him. "Absolutely - please. You're even welcome to sit, if you'd like." She gestures towards the chairs and couch, then shrugs, as if not expecting him to take her up on her offer. [ Acknowledgement: Thank you, Mistress, protection communication protocols deactivated. I do not normally "sit" as I do not sustain benefits from it, but if it will put you at ease. ] - 917 sits down precisely, there's no other way to describe it. Measured step, both legs positioned, servos triggered to sit with exactly enough force to depress the cushion, but with both feet firmly grounded to immediately move should the need arise. [ Inquiry: You and I have not spoken since your initial assignment of our services. It there something my squad and I have failed to do for you? ] - 917 asks. Tia gives 917 an absent smile and follows suit, sitting in one of the other chairs. "Not at all - it's been a comfort to know that you and your boys are out there." She gives him an apologetic look. "I should have at least checked in earlier, after your assignment. I guess I've been a bit preoccupied - I'm sorry for that. But you've always seemed quite efficient, not to mention that you came with a high recommendation. I never felt the need to ask for anything beyond what you were already doing." She pauses. "But I did want to take the time to thank you for it. After Endor...I wasn't sure if you were going to be reassigned. I've been glad to see that you're still in the neighborhood." [ Gratitude: I will relay the compliment to my unit. They are dedicated frames, and while some would wish to be given access to the newer Series 7 combat frames, they take pride in their achievements. ] - 917 comments. [ Admission: I was not sure we would be staying myself. ] - 917 pauses and appears to be calculating his response. [ Concern: The Lieutenant was the last link in our chain of command. With no other Guardian division units on planet, and our models are not permitted to use Lynk relay access. I am at a loss as to how to update our mission status. ] - he suddenly catches himself. [ Apologies: Do not mistake my distress over orders as a lack of commitment to your protection. My unit will carry out our duty indefinitely should the need continue.] Tia gives him a somewhat sad smile. "917, given who Lieutenant Lee was, I have a hard time picturing her recommending someone who didn't share her sense of commitment and duty. I don't doubt your dedication." She takes a breath and seems to refocus. "That said - are you telling me that you haven't received any new orders since Endor?" [ Affirmation: My unit has received no orders since 09:54:32 18.Dorn.35 comprising: ] - BX-917 switches into a recording. You suddenly hear Lee's voice coming from his vocoder. "Seventeen? I'm taking your protectee on a trip with some of our friends. You and the boys can stand down until they return. Get some rack time, maybe an oil bath? Make sure you're topped off on i5 cells and such. Oh, and hey, see if you can find any local droids not adjusting? I found a lifter still locked down with a restraint at the other spaceport this morning. You've got my green light to stun the shit out of anyone still putting slave collars on our people. You good?" The BX switches back to his own synthetic voice, and you almost hear it catch, but you must be imagining, as he repeats his own response to the orders, almost whispered. [ Confirmation: Always, My Captain. ] He continues. [ Supplemental: Upon your return to Nigita, we resumed our duties, but all official command codes terminated at the Lynk relay. There is no one left on world to resume authority over us. We do not report to Intelligence Division, nor Colony Fleet Support. We certainly aren't Medical Facility Personnel, nor are we engineering rated. ]The droid shrugs, or does his best to mimic one. [ Concern: Without our commanding officer, we apparently have no one. Though no one in command has confirmed this. ] Lee's voice seems to take Tia by surprise. She swallows hard, and a long moment passes before she manages to respond. Finally, she seems to steel herself, and she looks at 917 with concern. "It's been some time since then." Her voice is quiet. "Is it...customary for a squad to be left on their own like this? The rest of Vigil does know you're posted here, right?" [ Supposition: I do not believe so. ] - 917 tilts his head and considers something. [ Conjecture: Intercessor Squad would seem to be an anomaly in the ranks. Our unit is not assigned to a base or ship. We were directly under the command of an Operative of the Guardian Division. ] [ Deflation: Again, it appears we are in unfamiliar territory. ] Tia blinks, then seems thoughtful. "So it would seem." She bites her lip. "917, is there anything else you can tell me about your current assignment at this point...? Maybe I can think of something to help. I get that you're charged with protecting me, and I appreciate it, but...I don't know, were you given any contingencies for if you were out of contact or if anything like this happened?" She pauses, then gives him an apologetic look. "I know you said you haven't gotten any new orders, and I believe you, but I couldn't help but notice that you have some new...equipment or something that you've been watching? That's a bit of a change - I don't remember seeing anything like that box out there before." [ Confirmation: Our mission remains unchanged and without escalation of violence against you, our protectee, we have no immediate alternate plans. The Lt. made sure we were updated with the latest urban pacification protocols, had our frames equipped for extended non-lethal capabilities. ] - He pauses to point to the electro-studs on the back of his knuckles, ones that seem familiar. He seems to hesitate again, [ Confession: Mistress, the object you reference is a problem for us. Specifically for me. It is most properly evidence of a crime. My crime. I have exceeded my command authority and stolen property from the Wardenclyffe facility. ] Tia's eyebrows shoot up. "You... " She stares at him, before finally saying, "All right. I can't imagine that you would do such a thing without a compelling reason. Care to share?" [ Confession: After your return to Nigita, I went to retrieve additional i5 power cells from the facility quartermaster. This is pursuant to my lack of new instructions. As I was leaving the facility, a service unit was disposing of materials that conflicted with my programming. I secured the empty locker from a construction vehicle, a violation of my clearance, and took the materials with me. ] - 917 states clearly, and if Tia didn't know there aren't expressions on that model droid's face, she'd think it was hoping desperately that she didn't notice that it did not answer. [ Clarification: The disposal of the materials con...flicted with my... base ethical subroutines. ] He stops suddenly. [ Clarification: Programming identified improper handling of materials by service unit. Proper course of action impossible in current situation. Logical Conclusion: 917 should take possession of materials until situation resolved. ] - He finally delivers after an unusually long pause. Tia blinks at him. "If these mystery materials were not being disposed of properly, why didn't you just inform someone at Vigil HQ about it? So they could fix it? Under normal circumstances, wouldn't that have been more logical than taking matters into your own hands and trying to babysit a box of whatever-it-is in the middle of the street?" She watches him, then says in a quiet voice. "It's clear that something is bothering you about all this. Why is the 'proper course of action' impossible? What situation needs to be resolved?" She looks down at her hands, then back up at him. "917...Lee was my friend. And you're part of her team. I know she trusted you. It doesn't sit well with me, that you and your squad seem to have been left to fend for yourselves like this. Not to mention that something went so against your code that you felt you had to take action on your own to stop it from happening." She hesitates, then continues softly. "Assuming your code is anything like hers, there are only so many things I can think of that might cause you to react this way, to feel you had a higher duty that would preempt the limits of your command authority. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but...I don't like the options that come to mind." She watches him carefully. "I can't even try to help you effectively if I don't know what's going on." Her voice is gentle. "Please. Tell me." 917 starts and stops a number of times. Tia hears the telltale whine of his leg servos attempt to move, get countermanded, start again, and again get countermanded. The movement persists as Tia sees tremors in the fingers currently face down on his knee actuators. A moment later, a voice, not his voice, emits from his vocabulator. [ Failsafe Triggered: Advanced Heuristics Processor off-line. Class Three emulation suspended. Please wait while the system diagnostic continues. Unit is in Class Four failsafe mode. ] It begins again in a particularly monotone voice, [ Clarification: Unit Designate 917 collected material possessions of former organic officer, Meriweather-L. DN-G-789921 LT2-e4, without proper chain of control permissions and without approval of acting base commander, Rambaud-L. DN-I-913276 CM5-e9, in violation of Vigil property statutes § 13A-8-3 and § 13A-8-4. ] [ Continuation: Unit Designate 917 countermanded prior organic orders of Unit Designate L3347 to relocate materials to improperly requisitioned locker in violations of Vanguard Uniform Military Code § 10 VCC 121.2A-D and § 10 VCC 106.1 and § 10 VCC 106.2. Additional errors in ethical subroutines cataloged, but not resultant in criminal misconduct. ] [ Suggestion: Self Governance Directives may prevent this unit from acting on this failure on its own. Please order this unit to nearest Vigil facility for logic assessment at your earliest convenience. ] As 917 continues his litany, Tia sees his right hand slowly tense, as the confession nears its end, the hand snaps up and to the side of it's neck, stabbing at a retracted stud. The light from his optics temporarily dims and his head lolls to the side. The optics flicker and a low volume stream can barely be heard from his vocabulator. It is another recording, full of static and hiss, clearly the sounds of a battle, a faint but recognizable voice can be heard over the sounds of mechanical locks being released and bolts being removed. "You're safe, Seventeen, got your core almost free. Don't blow up on me yet, buddy. I'll get you home." the recording ends with the telltale squelch of a failing signal. The vocabulator lets out a series of reboot tones as his head rights itself and his optics resume full brightness. [ Assessing: Primary functions - nominal. LPP Protocols - nominal. Advanced heuristics - nominal. Frame skills package - interface active and nominal. Unit: Active. ] [ Apologies: Mistress, I am obviously in significant disrepair. I should promote 924 to active lead. I may not be suited to command. ] - 917 answers in his 'proper' voice. Tia sits frozen, but only for the briefest of moments. Too quickly to be seen, a complicated series of thoughts and calculations flash behind her eyes and vanish. She looks up at the droid, regarding him seriously. "Seventeen, Lt. Lee left you in charge because she entrusted you with the position. Your squad is already cut off from the chain of command. You are the last, and most experienced, commanding officer they have access to. This does not seem like the best time to promote someone new to lead." She pauses. "Further, I trust Lee's judgment. As the designated protectee of Intercessor Squad, I would feel more comfortable if her command decisions were left in place. Particularly given the current lack of communication and absence of anyone from the Guardian Division to assume command authority over the situation." 917 sits up. [ Confession: I had not considered that as a possibility. ] His head tilts to the side as if in consideration. [ Assessment: If I am to assume that I am the only commander of my division on this world, and I cannot legally contact my division at present, options open up in the Uniform Code. ] [ Gratitude: Thank you, Mistress, that option has alleviated the ethical conflict in my subroutines. As base Commanding Officer for my division, additional responsibilities and privileges are granted through the position regardless of actual rank. My actions are no longer inconsistent with my command imperatives. ] - His body language has abruptly changed. As if any psychological stress on his conscience were simply resolved at the changing of a parameter in a line of code. [ Query: Do you know any additional next-of-kin for the Lieutenant? While I may have known her longer, in my experience, organics tell each other things that they would not bother a synthetic with. ] - He asks. Tia smiles slightly at his change in demeanor, but at his question her expression clouds. Softly, she says, “I’m sorry, Seventeen. We talked about a lot of things, but she never mentioned anything about family to me.” She hesitates, then swallows. Reaching up, she slowly pulls the Vigil amulet with Lee’s dog tags free from where it usually lays hidden beneath her shirt. She gently runs a finger over the medallion as she had seen Lee do countless times. “The closest she ever came was when she called me sister. It was the last thing she said to me before she boarded the Alzeera.” Her hand closes over the necklace, and her expression is raw. The droid considers the new data. Then you hear his comlink buzz with rapid binary codes. [ Conclusion: In my new duties as commanding officer of Guardian Division, Nigita Detachment. I wish to present you the personal possessions of your kin. The organic you know as Lt. Meriweather is and always will be known to BX Series 924, 931, 977, 913, 919, and myself, 917 as 'Captain'. It was our honor to server under her command at the Battle of Sernpidal, in her continuing role as Envoy Guardian, and finally here on Nigita. ] He nods formally. Behind him Tattle pops his head back into the room just as the door chime rings. [ "Um, did you invite the whole neighborhood to some droid party? There's two more outside the door with a crate." ] Tia’s eyes widen, then flick over to the Gatekeeper droid. “Please let them in, Tattle - they’re more than welcome." She turns back to 917, and her expression softens. Still holding Lee’s Abbatar, she bows her head. "Thank you, BX-917. To you and all the frames of your unit. I know Lt. Meriweather was proud to be your Captain.” She smiles sadly. “And I’m honored to call her kin. Thank you.” Tia nods wordlessly, closing her hand around the key. As she spots the familiar uniforms, the ache in her eyes is unmistakable. Looking back to 917, she pauses, clearing her throat, before simply saying, “Thank you.” [ Query: Is there anything else I can do for you today, Mistress? 919 has asked if his scheduled recharge cycle can commence, and I should get back to duty. You have assisted us greatly today. ] He asks. She smiles at him. "No, but thank you, Seventeen. I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me. And..." She swallows, glancing at the open locker. "...for everything else. I'm glad I was able to help." She pauses. "If you should need anything, please don't hesitate to reach out." She smiles, and a pale shadow of her usual humor returns to her face. "You do, after all, know where to find me." The droid nods and shows himself to the door. He stops a step away from it and comes back. He looks at you for a second, kneels down and retrieves another object from yet another small compartment, places it on the black box in the locker. He says quietly [ "Αντίο, καπετάνιος μου, φίλε μου" ] then stands, and leaves. On top of the box sits a slightly tarnished set of silver Captain's bars.
Tia watches him leave, then slowly steps over to the locker. Reaching down, she picks up the silver bars and lightly runs a finger over them. Her throat works silently for a moment before she carefully sets them down on the small table. Taking a deep breath, she turns back to the locker. She gently rests a hand over one of the folded dress uniforms for a brief moment before turning her attention to the black case. Her face empty, she reaches in, lifting it out. Within the box, at first, are folded plasticized orders, battlefield commissions, assignments, and travel orders, the last being assignment to Inner Rim Expedition M83.Nigita. Below the folded papers, covered by a thin silk sheet, are an array of medals, an expressionless testament to 17 years of service. Most prominent among them a large medallion in platinum, the familiar swirl of the Vigil embraced by stylized branches, suspended from a long, wide gold ribbon edged in blue. Below that, and most numerous, a row of black crosses. Tia quietly studies the medals. Several long moments pass as she stands there, motionless. Then, a slight tremor seems to run through her. Moving haltingly, she turns to pick up the silver Captain's bars from the table. Carefully, she places them in the case, further evidence of a lifetime spent in dedication to a cause. Closing it with a faint click, she sets the case back within the locker. Again, she pauses, staring vacantly at the open box. Then, a muscle works in her jaw, and her expression gradually shifts. The emptiness in her eyes is filled; what starts as a quiet but intense anger ignites until they seem to burn with it from within. Lowering the lid, she locks the box, then looks down at the key in her hand. Almost involuntarily, her hand tightens into a fist around it. Her lips thin, and she closes her eyes. When she opens them, the fire in them, though still visible, has been reduced to an ember. Relaxing her hand, she slips the key into her pocket. Before she leaves the room, she scribbles something on a note, then sticks it to the top of the locker. "T, please let me know when you get back. I need your help moving this into the office. Thanks."
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