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Basie Moten

Apr 5th, 2012, 09:51:20 PM

"He's got talent you wouldn't believe."

He was always delighted with the way his fingers danced down the keys. He was always delighted with his delight. Music was soothing to him. The mixture of sound, meter, pattern, and equation always held him enthralled.

"You need soul to play the way he does."

Soul. What was soul? Was it the random chance he could play one particular note when the tune called for another? From what he could understand, soul was the ability to feel the music, what it is meant to evoke, and also infuse it with the player's own feelings and emotions. He smiled, allowing his simple delight at hearing the music, hearing the other musicians back him up with good timing, and few errors...

They stood as they applauded him. He smiled and bowed, looking at each person in turn, and felt alive.

Ettagar Veir

Apr 5th, 2012, 10:02:23 PM

"Say that again, because I not sure ye quite right there," Ed asked in irritation.

"Sorry Ettagar," the miniature hologram of Farran Mearrean said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But that's all I could get; this doc's crimes go into over a dozen systems. This particular patient of his, well, the crime was committed years ago. We don't know whether it will turn up. The doctor was arrested a week ago, and no reliable description came out. He did say a couple things though. He said that the voice would still be the same as a droid's. It didn't have enough money to pay for the complete overhaul on its vocabulator programming. He also said that it would be returning to the planet for a checkup. We don't know how they would schedule a meeting, but this one's worth over twenty-thousand creds."

"Twenty thousand?" Ed whistled.

"Yeah," the Corellian security officer sighed. "Rich family, they have some pull with the Moff of the sector, I believe. I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Ed. And tell Fid I said the same to him. Stars know what I'll do without the entertainment I get from reading about your jobs."

"Ye'll be seein' plenty o' stuff soon, I reckon," Ed said with a grin. Farran shook his head and his figured flickered out as the projector turned off.

Ed stood and pulled on his coat.

"Fid!" he called. "We got a job! Get yerself up so we can make ourselves a pretty cred, yeah?"

Fidavar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 12:59:38 AM

“Pretty cred, y’say?”

Were he a cat, his ears would’ve perked at that. Not just an ordinary ol’ cred. Not merely a decent cred. But a pretty one. Enough to break the consideration of anything in front of his appraising eyes.

"A-rite. Ahhhh-rite!” He called back in a voice half-muffled by a fuming cigarra held loosely between lightly dehydrated lips and tossed the titty mag aside. “I’m a’comin’.”

A sigh of something tired or perhaps annoyed (at setting aside the assortment of joyous badonkadonks, even with the potential for an extra-good payday) escaped with a breath as Fid swung his legs off from where he reclined, which balanced him to sit. He rose quickly, re-tightening the holsters on his person that he’d loosened in relaxation a short while before. He donned his coat and plucked the cigarra from his mouth, gave it a flick, then wedged it back in the precise place it was meant to be used as he wandered out to the sight of the younger brother and leaned into the doorframe.

“Ah-rite, then. What it s’posed t’be, this job? Don’t think I rightly heard o’er the blood roarin’ in me ear on account o’the graciously beautiful titties.”

Ettagar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 10:56:53 AM

"Twenty-thousand," Ed grinned. He nodded in assurance, and led the way out of their ship and out into the docking bay.

"Turns out some family got 'emselves whacked by a droid some years ago. Droid disappeared. Farran and the Corellian boyos, they caught themselves a doc who said 'at he'd worked on a droid, givin' it a different appearance."

Fid lit himself another cigarra and Ed did the same.

"The doc said 'at the droid would be giving him a call to set up a little check-me-up. Farran passed us the information, and here we are."

Ed led them on a meandering path through the city, which was fairly interesting and built close together, in the natural, mish-mash sort of growth that the Empire abhorred but signified a place of great cultural value.

"We're goin' ta meet with a friend o' his. Dyrden. He's a big music buff. He'll be sitting in the Ender's Club. Supposed to be a big name in the business."

Fidavar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 03:25:12 PM

Fidavar whistled long and low at the amount mentioned, much as Ettagar had done shortly before, himself.

“Oh, aye…” He drew out, the usual cigarra ever-present in his trap. “I do fancy meself a good assor’m’t of chords. Dyrden, y’say?”

He paused in the enjoyment of the tabacc and the flow of his accented words, his mind meandering for a moment or two of time through thoughts that cropped up as the infinite inputs of information were considered – the words of his brother, the situation they were walking into, the lay of the land. The higher the creds, the more likely it could all end up an inescapable frakkin’-go-round. A little paranoia was always healthy and kept his arse safely outta the klink, as for every bounty, there was some hard-arsed cop who saw a murder as a murder, no matter the reasonin’.

“Yea, weel, y’gat thet right. Big fish in the biz, ‘e sure is.” Fid grinned, glancing sidelong at Ed. “I admit a wee bit o’astonishm’t thet ye never ‘erd of ‘im.”

Ettagar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 03:54:12 PM

"Idiot," Ed fired back. "Dyrden's some no name contact we're meetin'. Ender's Club is the big name. In this sector, if yer playin' Ender's Club on a ticket, you're goin' places."

It didn't take them long to get to the Club. It wasn't large, and the stage was definitely not meant for larger bands.

"Lookin' fer a guy named Dyrden," Ed murmured in one of the bouncer's ears and sliding a credit chit into his hand. The bouncer nodded and pointed over into the middle of the small dining area.

Ed liked the place. It wasn't dark, but it was dimly lit, most of the light focused on the man on the stage, playing a piano. A cloud of smoke hung low over their heads. It wasn't a place someone brought their children to at this hour, and anyone coming here wasn't worried about their health either.

"You must be the Veir boys," Dyrden said, stubbing his own cigarra in the tray absently. When his hand pulled away, the butt was still burning.

"Aye," they said lowly.

"I wasn't expectin' a call for this case. They closed it down over a year ago; no clue where the damned droid went."

He stopped and lit another cigarra, his eyes trained on the man playing up front, backed up by another man on a drum kit, and a third on a wooden bass with an amplifier hook-up.

"I was always curious," Dyrden said, stroking his greying beard in thought. "If the droid murdered them, it could have also lied about it. But it didn't. It ran."

Dyrden turned to face them, and poured the three of them a shot of whiskey. He downed his quickly.

"Y'all want information, I know," he said. "I know. The family owned a house up beyond the governor's mansion, outside the city limits. No one's bought it, and so it's remained the way it was ever since. Kids say its haunted. The doctor's office was downtown, by the Dunnal Canal, off of Sumersette avenue."

Fidavar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 09:57:26 PM

Fid plucked the ciggara from his mouth, accepted the shot of whiskey and knocked it back, savouring the way it felt as it slid down his gullet. He placed the shotglass back on the table with a gentle thud and resumed with inhaling in on the ‘cancer stick’ and exhaling smoke and words.

“Weeeeel, that be good t’know.”

He pulled the little leftover stub of the ciggara from his teeth and pressed the lit end in the same tray Dyrden had stubbed out his own. The elder Veir brother turned to the younger and spoke at a volume of ‘your ears only'.

“So…” He started. “…what d’ye say? Spookies, or sterile w’a wee touch o’ nursely beauties? Holdin' off any sort o'decidin', I find meself in a bit o’doubt thet our guilty toaster friend woul’ave any reason to ‘ead back to the scene o’the crime."

Basie Moten

Apr 6th, 2012, 11:11:03 PM

His fingers flew across the keys, like insects trying to take flight but tied to the earth, to the songs, that they knew and were born to sing.

The introduction was easy enough. A few minor chords, slip in some normally discordant notes which slid into the right ones and added the more dirty, but very human feeling to the song.

The woman, a fairly good singer, walked up to microphone and began to hum the first few verses. She did the song credit.

"Oh when I was young, and young were you
We'd talk of dreams, and make a wish or two,
And watch them float away.

"We lived in our parents' homes,
Now they're our own, and
We pass each other by

"But I cannot pass a day
Without thinking of a day
Where it was just me and you."

He let the bassist do a short little interlude on his own - he could see how much the man enjoyed it - and simply held some long notes and let them drift, drift... and then brought them back.

"I don't have to wonder where you are
You, my childhood star
You, were my wish

"But I cannot pass a day
Without thinking of a day
Where it was just me and you

"And in the viewport I can see,
A sky of clouds for you and me,
We could never get beyond

"And I cannot pass a day
Without thinking of a day
Where it was just... me and you."

He let the song end wistfully, and he let himself break out of the trance, and looked across the crowd. A couple men had walked in during the introduction, and he looked at them carefully; but a gesture in his peripheral vision pulled his complete attention back on the woman, Matare.

He nodded and smiled, waving at the crowd, and once more feeling alive.

Ettagar Veir

Apr 6th, 2012, 11:41:22 PM

"What's the deal with 'im, then?" Ed asked Dyrden, clapping and eyeing up the singer, a beautiful woman with nice red hair. Not often you saw a natural red on a performer. Thankfully, her song had cut off Fid's attention span as well, so Ed had some excuse for not answering.

"He's Basie Moten," the older man replied, taking a long drag off his cigarra. "Been gettin' rave reviews on the sector scene. Some people are sayin' he might get big enough to do a two sector tour soon. Thing is, he don't speak. At all. Apparently he got in an accident a few years back, and lost his voice, and didn't have enough money to get it back."

Ed nodded, leaning back in his seat and taking a long drag off his cigarra.

"Are there any fam'ly members still livin' round here?"

Dyrden blinked at the off-topic question.

"Of Moten's?"

"No, of the people who got murdered."

"Oh, right, the Cassians. Well, Marabet Cassian she's a niece of theirs, she lives up town a ways. She's a college student now. Studying music, I think. Her whole statement's in the record though."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small folder filled with flimsis and datacards. Some of them were still marked as 'evidence'.

The flimsis had the whole story as marked down by the security agents: faulty droid, rich family, and then screams, blaster shots, and arson.

"Only one survivor, eh?" Fid asked.

"Yeah."

"An' it would have t' be Marabet." Ed stated, pushing the unseen datacards back to the old man.

Dyrden nodded solemnly, looking at the pile of saved holopictures.

"Yeah."

Ed stood.

"Thank for the info," he said, tossing a credit chit onto the table and sliding his coat back on. "C'mon Fid."

Fidavar Veir

Apr 17th, 2012, 07:23:12 PM

Nodding and murmuring his thanks to Dyrden, the contact and informant, he tailed his younger sibling out the door of Ender’s Club and back out into the street, thinking to pluck another cigarra from the inner pocket of his jacket, but then holding on to that thought to be fulfilled a titch later. The elder Veir brother slipped both hands into coat pockets, half-rolled his shoulders as if to shrug and cricked his neck before settling his looking on Ed when they began to wander on their way again.

“So, have ye any thoughts, inklings, or th’like?”

He cast his gaze up to the sky, looking for nothing that wasn’t there, for a brief moment, then straigtened out again.

“Might be a plan t’divvy it up, say, I go nose around the doc’s ol’ place o’business an’ you go callin’ on Miss Marabet? Maybe we’ve th’grace o’ lady luck and chance we come upon our friend th’elusive toaster in th’process, yeah?”

Now, now he dug in for that cigarra.

Ettagar Veir

Apr 17th, 2012, 08:50:43 PM

Ed lit his own cigarra and nodded.

"That sounds like plan then," he said. He was surprised that Fid was going for the doctor's office rather than go and speak to the girl by her lonesome. "I'll meet ye by the doctor's offices afterwards, yeah? If he ain't there, see about gettin' the receptionist to send a signal when he shows up."

Ed took a deep drag and then exhaled the smoke, digging his hands into his pockets. It was getting dark, but neither of the Veir brothers seemed worried.

Ed stalked off into the night, heading toward the less lit side of the city. Fid turned and walked in the opposite direction.

The dormitory was quiet as he exited the turbolift and looked down the halls. Right in front of him were a small number of kids, some around his age, playing a hologame. A couple turned to look out from the common room they were playing in and one even waved.

Ettagar blinked and slowly waved in return, before walking into the common room and looking at them.

"I'm lookin' fer Marabet," he said. One of them nodded.

"Wrong floor, man. Go up five and she's in 1545."

Ed nodded, and left the room. He noticed their eyes following him all the way back to the lift, and smirked as the doors closed.

The floor was quiet, and he judged that she was likely asleep when he knocked on the door. He knocked again, and waited for the door to open.

A pretty girl opened the door, and looked at him expectantly.

"Ah'm lookin' fer Marabet," Ed said, looking at her. The girl blinked, taken aback. She looked behind herself, and opened the door wider. "You must be her."

Marabet nodded, her hair held back with a bow, leaving her heavily scarred face open for all to see.

"I 'ave some questions-"

"About the fire, and JR-6Y1. Yes," Marabet nodded again and stood to the side, gesturing for him to enter. "Please, come in."

Ed entered and sat down at the table in the small kitchen by the viewport overlooking their section of the city.

"I've already told the police everything," Marabet said.

"You know I'm not police then," Ed cut her off. "And I'm not stoppin' until I get my money."

"A bounty hunter," she gasped, lowering her head and hiding her face.

"Aye," Ed answered. It was the first time he'd not smiled when answering that question. "So, how late were ye goan' te wait up fer 'im?"

The two girls stared at him, and he stared back.

Fidavar Veir

Apr 18th, 2012, 10:33:39 AM

Ed could be surprised as he like, but where there were hospitals, where there were the offices of doctors, unavoidably, there were nurses. Accourse, his mind was surely on the job, but making a pretty nurse or even a receptionist part of his day, even just for talkin’ to in all seriousness, made a good day out of an as-yet largely uneventful day all on its own. Looking, not having, was often enough.

Fid watched Ed for moments as he stalked off into the dimming light, as day was turning to night, and then headed off in the direction of the good doctor’s offices himself.

-------------------------------------

Well, if there was one thing to be said, the location wasn’t bad.

Fidavar came to the office as the light of day had long died out, the lights on and the front staff set to their own tasks. The surrounding street was largely quiet, save for one couple, out for an evening jog. A smallish smile poked up on his face, but as he laid a hand on the door’s handle to let himself in to the doctor’s offices, that smile was quickly quashed. A soft chiming alerted the receptionist and one nurse behind the front desk to his arrival.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome.”

Both his eyebrows lifted, then fell as he approached the desk and leaned on it, looking down on the slightly-better-than-average-lookin’ and rather young receptionist.

“How can we help you?”

Fid glanced briefly at the one nurse, then another as she entered the front area. It was quiet tonight, in this office. He looked back at the receptionist.

“Weeel, missy.” He started, the tiniest of smiles threatening on his face. “Lemme tell ye how y’might be o’service.”

The smile broadened enough to barely be a grin. Her own pleasant little smile faltered in uncertainty under the weight of his own expression.

“Farst, let mey tell ye y’ar’ gorgeous t’nite.”

The receptionist’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“Second, ah’m lookin’ ferra doctor.”

She blinked, the look of that’s-stupidly-obvious-if-you’re-here in her eyes, and the pleasant, I-don’t-know-you smile returned to her face.

“Specifically, th’good doctor thet used to work here up ‘tel verra recent. Ken ye tell me if anyone has come lookin’ fer’im?”

Ettagar Veir

Apr 18th, 2012, 10:37:01 PM

"I don't understand what you mean."

Ed stood and looked at the girl seriously, before turning and starting to walk out of the room.

"It was an accident." Ed stopped, but didn't turn around. "He was good at playing; his fingers were made to accompany me while I sang. It wasn't his fault."

Ed turned and looked at the girl, her face disfigured by two year old burns.

"He was so sorry. He said he would fix it. I didn't know how, but he was my only friend left, and they wouldn't think that I did it. Not when they could blame him. All I wanted was to make my uncle stop."

Ed could almost hear her close her eyes against the tears. He turned his head slightly to see her in his peripheral vision and sighed.

"Y'aren't the only one t' have problems an' a hard life, missy," he said, and walked out of the room.

Fidavar Veir

Apr 18th, 2012, 10:40:01 PM

The receptionist gave him a confused look, then held up one finger and turned in her seat to catch the attention of one of the nurses. One, who seemed to have heard the exchange, shook her head in response to the question before the receptionist had chance to ask. She turned back to Fid, then and was about to inform him of the fact when he cut her off. A vague flash of frustration flicked across her face.

“Well, then… what I need t’know, and what I need ye t’do for me, is if anyone comes a’lookin for the good doctor, I would like ye to give me a ring.”

He plucked a card from within his jacket. It bore no design or any information save for a number.

“Here’s me digits.” He said, as if to say call me for entirely non-job-related reasons. “An’ remember, anyone comes lookin’ fer th’doctor, you let me know immediately.”

With little else in the way of fanfare, Fid stood up straight, turned heel, and walked right back out of the doctor’s office, fishing his comm from his right jacket pocket and began ringing up Ed. A capped, slightly worn and schulmpy man passed him, heading into the doctor’s offices and Fid’s eyes followed him as he punched up Ed’s number.

That the guy from the club? Well, I guess ev’ry one needs medical attention.

It was just as he was about to put the call through to the younger Veir brother when a call blazed in with name of the doctor’s offices he had just exited displayed on the screen. He answered immediately.

“Aye?”

The receptionist wasted no time in attempting to cryptically inform him that the man who had just entered the offices fulfilled his requirement. Without so much as a ‘thank ye’ or ‘g’bye’, Fid turned heel once again and marched double-time back to the office, throwing the door open and half-rushing inside.

There, he found his face met with a blaster pistol, attached to the hand and outstretched arm of the jazz pianist from the club.

Basie Moten. Damn it.

Fid moved to attempt disarming the man… machine, he now supposed and the jazz pianist let off a shot, which quickly changed Fid’s motive to one of momentary self-preservation, at which time the found target, Basie Moten, rammed right into his shoulder and clear past him, slamming the door wide open and making a wild break for it.

“Shit. Feck…” Fidavar half-stumbled, half-ran back out the door, pulling his own blaster in the same movement, rising quickly to take aim, but the very human-looking droid ran much faster than his aged look let on. A split-second decision and Fidavar Veir considered it a very good time to call his brother and partner as he left the doctor’s offices behind and gave chase.

Basie Moten

Apr 18th, 2012, 11:12:56 PM

This should not have happened. He... he knew that it was impossible for him to run forever. The magnitude of the crime was too large, the destruction, too much.

"JR-6Y1. This is Marabet. She will be your owner."

Marabet looked at him shyly, and he felt curiosity for the first time.

"I am pleased to meet you, Master Marabet."

He outdistanced his pursuer, but the boy was persistent. He stopped and ducked behind a corner, aiming and firing quickly, but missing. He continued running, one hand digging into the pocket of his coat.

"Play for me, JR."

"But you are not singing, Master."

"When you play, I don't need to sing. And wing it. I love when you play from the heart."

She began to sing, softly at first, but soon projecting her voice without a shred of shame. He played, wanting her to sing louder, more passionately.

She sang (http://youtu.be/1Lp9SiOML5Y), and sang and sang. And for the first time, he felt alive.

He managed to lose the boy after another few minutes of running. He could hear the scuffing of boots on the pavement and the quick harsh profanities spilling from his mouth. He smiled.

The Dormitory was a good one; he was glad.

She was scared. Another one was waiting for him in the hallway in front of her room.

"Sorry," the bounty hunter said with a grim grin. He pulled his blaster from its holster under his armpit. He didn't wait. He drove forward, bull rushing the boy, checking him into a wall, and punching him for good measure.

"You are hurt," she said, her hand going to a burn hole he hadn't noticed in his jacket. He didn't answer. He pulled out a datacard and a couple folders of flimsis.

"Let me leave with you," she said. He only smiled and shook his head. "Please. You're my only real friend left in the galaxy."

"You have other friends now. I have kept an eye on you while I was away."

"They aren't you," Marabet said, rushing forward and embracing him.

"No. But I cannot be a good friend anymore. I will only cause you trouble and pain. Good-bye, Master."

She sat down and cried.

Ettagar Veir

Apr 18th, 2012, 11:43:46 PM

Ettagar waited outside the girl's room, absolutely sure that the droid would be showing up. His comm rang, and he activated it quickly.

"It's Moten, Ed," Fid gasped, his figure running in place. "He's th' droid. Caught 'im goan' inte the doc's office, an' 'e got away."

"I know where he's going. Come to the dormitory, where the Marabet girl lives."

Fid started swearing. Ed grunted and stood, priming his blaster. The shatterpistol was too destructive for this work.

He heard the doors to the lift open and Moten stepped out. The droid's eyes widened slightly as Ed pulled his blaster pistol and turned off the safety with a flick of his thumb.

"Sorry," Ed grinned. He fired, but the droid had started running, much faster than he would have supposed. Moten punched him, hard, and he got off another shot before crumpling to the floor in pain.

Moten left.

"Fid," Ed grunted in pain. "He's here Fid. He's fast."

He stood, and staggered away from the room, and the lowered voices within. As he neared the turbolifts, he slid behind a corner and leaned against the wall.

He could hear Moten walk out of the room and then down to the turbolift slowly. He fired as soon as Moten stepped around the corner, and the pianist flew back against the wall and fired back. Ed ducked the shot and rolled to the side, firing twice more, but Moten was quick; he ran around the turbolift and ignored it in favor of the stairs to the roof.

"Fid, he's heading to the roof!" he hissed into the communicator and jammed it into his pocket and following the droid up the stairs. Moten was waiting, firing down at him and scoring the banister. He fired back, and scored another glancing hit on the fugitive, who staggered back and fled, slamming the door open and stepping onto the roof.

Fidavar Veir

Oct 10th, 2012, 01:12:28 AM

Fidavar had made haste, burning… whatever the material was that made up the soles of his shoes in hot pursuit of the droid who made such music that called to the soul. It challenged the definition of what music meant. If you didn’t have to have a soul to make crushingly beautiful tones, then…

“Frak it, what’s th’waerld comin’ to?” He breathed, heavily, swearing within that his feet would have a mighty hate for him by the time this debacle was all said and done.

The droid had easily slipped from his sight by the time the dormitory came into view, rising taller as the horizon became the horizon no more, but the reality of the fifty feet in front of him. He stopped for the scantest of seconds for a speeder to zip past, when the comm sprang to life once again.

"Fid, he's heading to the roof!"

And there it was, as he bolted across the road and closer, closer, closer to the dormitory building, the realization that going through the building and up the conventional route of stairs and turbolifts would not ferry him to his destination expediently enough. Often, though, there was an exterior option.

And there it was, in all its black durasteel glory: A fire exit.

The elder Veir brother scrambled up the side of the building, which caused the durasteel to groan slightly, but surely neither the target nor his brother would hear anything of it until they appeared on the roof and he was just about to it himself when a pair of bodies, mechanical or otherwise, scuffled onto the roof, beginning their dance across it.

It could only be them. Fid optioned to not appear on the roof just yet, instead clicking his comm in a signal that hopefully Ed was not too terribly distracted to catch.

Ettagar Veir

Oct 10th, 2012, 07:45:09 PM

Ed burst out onto the roof, where Moten stood, favoring one leg, and a blaster pistol raised right where his head was. There wasn't time to swear; all he could do was tuck into a roll, and then desperately change his direction to avoid the follow-up shot.

He swung his arm around and fired, miraculously hitting Moten's blaster dead center. The droid dropped the weapon and rushed him again. Ed fired, but missed, and the blaster was kicked from his hand. Ed barely rolled out of the way of the stomp that followed, with enough force to crack his skull. He shifted his weight and spun, legs kicking out to trip the jazz pianist before quickly getting to his feet and lashing out with a stomp of his own that the droid caught in his hand.

Ed locked eyes with Moten, and felt the droid's hand twist; left with no choice other than to get his ankle broken, the bounty hunter spun with the move and landed on his back; he couldn't be sure, but for a second he thought he heard the chirp of his commlink. Despite the pain, Ettagar stood, wincing as he placed some weight on his left foot.

Moten staggered to his feet.

"Leave us alone..." the droid sputtered into the night. The lack of vapor coming from his mouth as he spoke only highlighted the fact that he was a simulacrum.

"Y'know I can't do tha'," Ed responded, clenching his hands into fists for the upcoming fight.

"Why?" It asked. "Why can't you?"

Basie Moten

Oct 10th, 2012, 09:01:06 PM

The bounty hunter frowned, his eyes glancing down to where his blaster lay on the roof.

He didn't take his eyes off the young man. He could feel the carbon scoring on his shoulder joint, causing grating and lowering its function.

"Leave. Please. I don't want to hurt you." He, formerly known as JR-6Y1, took a step backwards. "I want peace. I have been playing for years to gain it."

The bounty hunter's frown became grimmer.

"I was commissioned to accompany and help train Marabet for entrance into a prestigious school for music. In order to facilitate a more organic and flowing playing style, I was outfitted with a Verpine model artificial intelligence, modified to this end. It was hoped that by doing so, I would be less mechanical and would condition Marabet to react well to improvisation and changes."

Marabet smiled, swaying on her feet as she sang along with his tune. He could not smile; but he made sure that his words were inflected to carry his pleasure at her improvement all the same when they finished the set. Her smile widened, and he helped her with her scales.

"Her father and mother were often away, leaving her in the care of her uncle. He would take her into the guest bedroom for hours. She missed lessons when he was there. She told me about what he did to her, and she cried. I remember, even in her deepest despair, her voice was beautiful. I offered to tell her parents, but she extracted a promise from me for silence. She was afraid that she would not be allowed to enter the school if her uncle's penchant for sexually abusing her was known."

She had finally stopped crying, and they sat on her bed. He rested one mechanical hand on her shoulder.

"Stop!"

Marabet rushed from the stairwell, throwing the bag of credits he'd given her at the bounty hunter.

"Don't hurt him!" she yelled. "Take the money, just leave us alone!"

Fidavar Veir

Oct 10th, 2012, 11:01:17 PM

“…I offered to tell her parents, but she extracted a promise from me for silence. She was afraid that she would not be allowed to enter the school if her uncle's penchant for sexually abusing her was known."

And in that precise moment, Fid’s face fell. His head followed. He could hear the tears in Marabet’s voice. Tears of a girl, a woman, a weakness he still tried to condition himself to resist and unintentionally had learned, by ear, to either validate or discredit. And murder was murder if not in self-defence, no matter how it was painted. Except, perhaps, if it was painted as justice. And especially if the justice was more than just paint.

Except… the Veirs were not exactly concerned so much with justice, but more with their reputation for getting the job done. It was one of those times when doubt was abundant.

Fid felt for his comm and clicked it, bringing it to his mouth. And he was about to speak, but then released the switch and stowed the comm. There was no point in that tactic anymore. He turned and rose from the crouch he had been holding, and pulled himself up onto the roof. He quickly came to his feet once there and looked from Marabet, to Moten, to Ed.

“Th’droid, he’s tellin’ th’truth.” He let out, with something of a dry throat, his eyes briefly flicking to Moten, one hand still cautiously holding his blaster. It was clear the lengths this pretend-a-human would go to protect the girl and it was uncertain now in what direction this thing would go.

“So, Ed…”

Fid cleared his throat, resisting the urge to look at the girl again, his eyes fixed firmly on their quarry.

“…ah, opinion, please.”

Ettagar Veir

Oct 12th, 2012, 09:21:05 PM

"I'm thinkin' there's more to the story 'an that," Ettagar grunted, still trying to keep some weight off his foot, slowly moving so that he could have an open lane of attack at the pianist.

Marabet was looking at him determinedly, keeping herself between him and Moten, who was looking on in a deceptively dispassionate manner.

"An' I'm keen on learning what it is," he grinned somewhat nastily. "Droid."

Marabet's previously stormy expression grew thunderous.

"He's more of a human than you!" she spat. "Bounty hunter!"

Ettagar didn't respond, only crouching down and picking up the blaster pistol from the duracrete of the roof they stood on. His nasty grin didn't leave his mouth, though.

"What's the rest o' the story, Moten?" Ed asked. "Is thar a reason ye didn't just off th' uncle, but her parents too? An' promises to hide a crime like that aren't in coding. You weren't hers, were you? You belonged t' her parents. Not her. Orders from her were superseded by her parents."

All eyes were on him at that moment; and in the split second Fid's eyes left the girl and her droid, the droid turned and ran. Ed fired, barely missing Marabet's head, but missed, while it jumped from the rooftop and bounced off the wall of a nearby building into a large bin of garbage. By the time the three of them reached the edge, Basie Moten was a silhouette in the ever darkening night.