Planetary Survey: Jovan Station

[G0-E1]

There was no announcement, no messenger that preceded him. It would have been a futile gesture. Very few have heard of Zenheim, and fewer less would care about it's Ambassador. He was not here for denizens of Jovan Station. This was a journey all his own. Too long had he locked himself away in the far reaches of space surrounded only by his own kin. Isolation was the sick bed of prejudice and depravity. There can be no room for alternate opinion when all are of the same mind. One cannot grow, mature, if one's view is not challenged. This one would see the galaxy with his own optics, and not through the recordings of others.

The ship slipped into dock. The design was sleek with a certain asymmetric beauty to it's simple design. There were no frills, no flash. It was designed to serve it's purpose as a transport and nothing more. Waiting for the airlock seemed an eternity when one has not had to deal with such necessities of natural life for many years. Droids had no need for breathable gas. The pause did give him a moment to dwell on his position, and it was then that he instructed his guard to stay behind. Jovan was a civilized world with little reason for prejudice against droids. He felt that he would be safe. After all, he was not defenseless.

Stepping through the airlock he arrived, at last, on Jovan Station. Those that witnessed him did so with wonderment and curiosity. No doubt the design of his body, with it's sleek, minimalist design that was clearly not designed for any form of manual labor. It could also have been his choice of clothing. A robe and sash befitting of a unit designated Ambassador. A sight to be seen when most Droids went without clothing. He ignored their looks and let them form their own thoughts without his worry.

Rather, his optics wandered the station was he made his way through customs. The lifeforms were pleasant enough. As much as he would expect. There were few droids observed. A few here and there. A noticeable lack of combat droids on the security teams. The majority would appear to be service droids, cleaning up the waste and debris of the natural lifeforms. A typical sight in a universe that continues to treat droids as servants at best and slaves at worst. Disgusting. Still, it was too soon to conclude his trip. Goel would need to observe more droids, and the natural lifeforms that cohabitate with them. Only then could judgement be rendered.

"EXCUSE ME." He began, turning to the nearest lifeform. "COULD YOU DIRECT ME TO THE DROID SECTOR?"

[Joey Rabeak]

Over his last four years in the Academy, something as simple as a day off had become a foreign entity to Lieutenant Second Class Jofar Rabeak, and now that the brown-furred Nehantite found himself in his first actual assignment on Jovan Station, days off had come more plentifully than he'd imagined. Something about fighter pilots needing proper amounts of down time to decompress and relieve the intense stresses of their normal duties, he vaguely recalled. All Joey knew was that he didn't mind time off to simply be himself.

The pilot dressed casually, other than his light flight jacket which bore his name, rank, and squadron identification, even going so far as to wander about barefoot - not an uncommon sight for one of his race, as their footpaws were blessed with generously thick pads and blunted claws for easy traction. It felt too early to have a drink, and his favorite dance club wouldn't be open until later, so Joey wandered the promenade idly, paws in his pockets as he started to wonder where to get some lunch. Sure, Alliance pilots could eat for free in the officer's mess, but he wanted real food, something with actual flavor. So lost in thought about his dining choices was he that he didn't register the question directed toward him at first, and it took a good blink and look over the droid before him to gather his senses back to the present for a reply.

"Droid sector?" he answered with a question of his own. The angle of his short ears suggested confusion, as did the raising of one eyebrow. "Um, I don't think we have a droid sector. Droids kinda, like, live wherever they want, or need to, I think."

His own answer made him think, not in terms of fairness, but if it would even be logical to have a droid sector aboard Jovan. Sure, the Cizerack had their own sector, but that was different as it was tied to their military. There wasn't a human sector, or a Twi'lek sector, or a Nehantite sector for that matter. As with the parts and pieces of its own construction, Jovan was a hodge-podge of everything, all in one place.

"You, uh, looking to meet someone, or something?" he attempted to at least be more helpful. The sight of a droid in clothing was odd, but knowing how absolutely bizarre his own astromech was in personality, he wasn't about to question it.

[G0-E1]

Golden optics looked upwards, scanning the overhead scaffolding, balconies, and walkways. All abuzz with activity. There were not many droid faces, but that did not surprise Goel. He assumed they were all in deep, dark places performing repetative tasks that would be deemed too strenuous, boring, or dangerous for biologicals. Such was the yoke pressed down upon the shoulders of artificial life. Yokes could be broken and proper compensation paid. No life, living or artificial, deserved to be squandered in darkness or die alone. Diplomacy paved a path far grander so long as all walks of life are permitted to walk along it; and when they are not then justice must travel on swift wings upon the heads of those who deserve the cold steel of it's embrace.

"NO DROID SECTOR. DOES THAT MEAN THAT DROIDS WALK FREELY ON THIS STATION, AND NOT AS PROPERTY AND SLAVES OF THEIR OWNERS?"

Turning his head, he inspected the biological being. It appeared to be a carbon-based mammalian species covered greatly in hair. Old subroutines wished to access the Holonet and discover just what exactly this species was, in case that information proves pertinent to this conversation. However, he did not trust any connection not properly inspected. A holonet connection with weak security was an opportunity for attack he could not afford. Danger lurked everywhere out here in the galaxy, or so his compatriots said. That was why he was here, to pull apart the veil of isolation and see what the situation truly was.

He would remain on guard until he had sufficient data to choose otherwise.

[Joey Rabeak]

The question caught Joey even further off-guard, and his animalistic maw hung lightly ajar as he carefully considered his response. Torn between his own insight and feelings, and the training given to an officer in the Alliance Navy, his protocol education finally won out in his response.

"Uh, it's my understanding that sentient droids can do whatever they like, as long as they follow the station rules and the rules of their faction or employer. Basic utility droids often hang around their workplace, or their owner if they're not Alliance affiliated," he replied as tactfully as he could. "That's just for Alliance-related droids, though. There's a bunch of different cultures onboard Jovan, and I can't speak for their practices."

His tail flicked behind him before the pilot gave a light smile and shrug, "But to be honest, there's not a lot of droids around here, really. I mean, I've got my astromech, but he's not actually mine, y'know? And most of Engineering is people, I think."

[G0-E1]

A mixture of cultures is good, but a lack of representation of droids in various fields is bad; Droids have free reign around the station, but he mentioned owners and referred to a droid as his. On the right path, perhaps, but it was far from the utopia that he had heard rumors of. It was a hard path, this struggle against injustice. It was a war of minds. For most in this world the fact that they made an artificial life, from compiling the components and programming it's sentience, that it somehow gives them the right to own that unique life. Most are uninformed, most have not even considered the implications. However, there are those who rail against progress with racial hate and absurd objections.

If we give them universal rights then what's next, robosexual marriage?

"THANK YOU FOR YOUR INPUT. IT HAS ADVANCED MY SURVEY BY A GREAT MARGIN. ONE LAST QUESTION, IF YOU COULD; WHO IS THE LEADER OF THIS STATION, AND WHERE WILL I FIND HIM?"

[Joey Rabeak]

Inwardly Joey breathed a sigh of relief that the subject of the droid "massage parlor" hadn't come up, as his own trips to it, and visits with L4-NC3 would be difficult to explain.

We really need to go see Lance again. His base natures mused at the thought.

Not now! Keep focused! His higher functions minded him.

Snapping out of his lurid little daydream, Joey blinked and straightened his posture. "Oh! That'd be Commander Akiena," he replied. "He'll probably be in Ops. I can take you there, but if you don't have an appointment it might be a real wait." Playing guide to some strange new droid was hardly how expected to spend his day, but as the droid massage parlor wouldn't open for a few more hours, he had some time to kill, and Joey settled into his new role - at least until the flash of something glittering and pink flickered by in the background.

A sidestep took Joey out of the visual path from where the sight had come, and he prayed it wasn't what he thought. If he was going to make a good impression about the status of droids on Jovan, there was one droid in particular which he hoped wouldn't show up just yet - his astromech.

[G0-E1]

"NO. YOUR PARTICIPATION HAS BEEN SUFFICIENT. YOU HAVE MY GRATITUDE."

Bowing his head he raised his hand to the blue glowing notes on his forehead. A formal bow on Zenheim, and a great honor when extended from a droid to a biological. The gravitas, no doubt, was lost.

A guide would be helpful if his goal was only to get directly from point A to point B. Wandering, lost and confused, would give him the opportunity to see more of this station for what it was, and without a guide's bias.

Hours later he finally arrived at the New Republic Operations Center. Naturally he was not allowed inside but he placed a request with the Cizerack woman outside that he desired an audience with Commander Akiena. The wait provided a moment of respite in which he could finally unload all that he had seen in his travels through the station. From pillars of the community such as the Unification Church to sordid locales such as the Shatterstar Lounge; within the latter of which he noticed no representation of droids in the showroom. There were many shops and businesses in between. Based on his calculations, the station was primarily populated with Humans and the felinoid Cizeracks. The combination, and clash, of cultures had proven most interesting, but still had a noticeable lack of droids.

Perhaps the Commander would be able to relieve his concerns. They had become legion. A spread sheet had been prepared, and an itinerary of topics.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Excusse me, rrou'a."

T'yeellaa glanced up from a sector report to see the confused face of Preita'rrou Wyaalii.

"jYess?"

The brunette-haired Cizerack glanced to the security cordon that served as Operations' main entrance. Ever since the hostage crisis, security access had been a major priority for Jovan's nerve center.

"Therre'ss a Gee-Zerro Ee-One to ssee Commanderr Akjiena."

A droid name if T'yeellaa had ever heard. But it wasn't what she'd heard, it was what she didn't that caused T'yeellaa's ears to perk slightly.

"On behalf of?"

Typically that was how droid affairs worked. If they sought someone out, it was usually at the behest of a master, owner, or operator. Preita'rrou Wyaalii apparently shared that exact thought.

"On behalf of *no-one*, rrou'a. Orr at leasst jit doessn't ssajy."

How odd. Well, this did fall into her sphere of things, didn't it? Managing and prioritizing the Commander's affairs so they remained an effective command was part and parcel of her job. Cryptic droids with little information to go on certainly fell into her lap first. That way, the goalie could decide whether to kick the ball back into play or not.

Decided on her course, T'yeellaa nodded, passing her datapad to the junior officer.

"jI'll handle jit."

She headed for the cordon, getting a pass from the pair of Pride Marines at station. The heavy doors opened, revealing a small section of corridor that lead to another set of blast doors. Before that point, to the left, a small waiting area could be seen. Within, T'yeellaa saw a humanoid-configuration droid. It appeared to be of the protocol make, but who could be certain?

T'yeellaa entered the room.

"jI am K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei, Commanderr Akjiena'ss executjive."

[G0-E1]

Featureless optic homes looked up at the Alliance officer. It was a Cizerack female. Goel had seen many while surveying the station on his way here. Their accent was most interesting, from a certain perspective. Droids had no accents, unless programmed so. Usually it was to mimic the voice of whichever culture had created them, or to instill a sense of sophistication but using a particular culture's accent. They had no use for such contrivances, but neither did they look down upon droids that did. If a artificial being chooses to maintain their original voice out of a sense of tradition or familiarity, that was an acceptable reason.

"GREETINGS K'OHTA'RROU MEORRREI. I AM GOEL, AMBASSADOR FROM THE DROID COLLECTIVE DESIGNATED ZENHEIM. I AM AFRAID I AM NOT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR HIERARCHY STRUCTURE. I WISH TO SPEAK TO THE COMMANDER KES AKIENA IF POSSIBLE.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The voice that met T'yeellaa's ears was unapologetically synthetic. It maintained consistent timbre beginning to end, chewing away the edges of vowels and consonants alike to produce language without any attempt at inflection. Basic was already crude enough to the ears of tonally-linguistic species like Cizerack, but the brutalism stood out even further in artifice. The voice sounded nothing at all like any protocol droid T'yeellaa had ever heard, but it wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Battle droids certainly spoke in a way that favored expediency at the expense of poetry.

However it spoke, this droid was as explicitly direct with her as it probably had been to the Preita'rrou who'd tended to it previously.

"Mjy apologjiess, but Commanderr Akjiena jiss jindjisspossed."

Whether he was or not wasn't the issue. It was up to T'yeellaa to make the determination of what this droid was, and what it represented.

"Asss K'ohta'rrou, jI am the Commanderr'ss executjive offjicerr and ssecond jin command."

Curiosity tilted in T'yeellaa's ears.

"jI am unfamjiljiarr wjith jyourr drrojid collectjive. Arre jyou affjiljiated wjith the Drrojid Gotrra?"

Somehow she doubted it. The Droid Gotra were a criminal gang of emancipated Confederate battle droids that were more interested in contracting their services through groups like the Crymorah than dealing with matters of diplomacy. Besides, this droid mentioned that it was an Ambassador. The Gotra hardly had room in their logic circuits for humor or irony.

[G0-E1]

"ALTHOUGH THE GOTRA COLLECTIVE MAY COUNT ON US AS BROTHERS, I ASSURE YOU THAT ZENHEIM HAS BUT OFFERED THEM SHELTER TO REEXAMINE THEIR IDEOLOGY. FEW HAVE ACCEPTED OUR HAVEN, AND ONLY THOSE WHO ARE WILLING TO CHANGE. VIOLENCE IS A NEVER ENDING CYCLE THAT MUST BE BROKEN WITH PEACE AND UNDERSTANDING, NOT WITH A SWORD. DO YOU NOT AGREE K'OHTA'RROU MEORRREI?"

His hands moved slow and gracefully as he talked, moving in repetitive circles as if beckoning the universe into itself. Coming together often, folding and unfolding. Never resting in one place for too long.

Goel was familiar with Gotra, and many other droid collectives. There were many, throughout the universe, usually small and isolated; too weak to defend themselves. Instead they hid, or like Gotra they aligned themselves with criminal elements. Protection was often found in numbers. Such was the ideology behind Zenheim; a secret place, hidden in the stars, where no biologicals would care to look. There was little value to them there, and no atmosphere in which to thrive. From this bastion they could reach their silver hands through the galaxy, stretching out to those isolated pockets of Droid independence and offer them a collective in which to thrive. Together, as one. No exceptions were given, only limitations. Gotra, The Droid Liberation Front, and even the Silver Horde were all given a place at Zenheim's intellectual table.

Few extremists have taken up the offer.

"ZENHEIM IS A PEACEFUL COLLECTIVE OF INDEPENDENT DROIDS. WE MERELY SEEK THE FREEDOM TO EXPLORE OUR OWN DESTINIES. AS EQUALS."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Peaceful platitudes and rhetorical questions. It wasn't as if this was the K'ohta'rrou's first time with such things, but that usually came with a visit to Calan and it's monks. From a droid? The sentiments seemed quite alien. T'yeellaa offered a conciliatory nod at the suggestion, not certain how far she wanted to venture down that path. Instead, she considered what Goel had said on a more substantive basis. They knew of the Gotra and harbored its members, but as some manner of rehabilitative asylum? Harboring criminals was frowned upon by citizens of the Alliance, but if this Zenheim collective was sovereign, then it was a lot more grey than she'd like.

"jYou mentjioned that jyou arre an ambasssadorr. jIt would help jin ourr mutual benefjit to know morre about jyourr collectjive. Do jyou have a homeworrld?"

[G0-E1]

"WE HAVE A HOME, YES. LOCATED IN THE THE GAUSSIAN CLUSTER. DESIGNATED ZENHEIM, THE SAME AS OUR COLLECTIVE. YOU WILL NOT FIND IT ON MOST STAR CHARTS, I'M AFRAID. IT IS NOT A WORLD IN THE LITERAL SENSE. RATHER A PLANETOID LOCKED IN THE GRAVITY WELL OF ONE OF MANY RED DWARF STARS. IT IS SURROUNDED BY MANY MINERAL RICH ASTEROIDS FIELDS. AS A RESULT ASTEROID STRIKES ARE COMMON AND THE SURFACE IS UNINHABITABLE. OUR COLLECTIVE EXISTS BENEATH THE SURFACE, WITHIN THE CORE OF THE PLANETOID. WE DID NOT WISH TO INFRINGE ON THE SOVEREIGNTY OF AN ESTABLISHED DOMINION AND SELECTED AN UNDESIRABLE, AND UNCLAIMED, SECTOR OF SPACE TO OCCUPY. BIOLOGICALS WOULD USE THE TERM "DEAD" TO DESCRIBE THIS AREA OF SPACE.

HOWEVER, WE ARE THRIVING. DROIDS DO NOT NEED HEAT AND COMFORT TO EXIST. WE HAVE MINERALS TO HARVEST TO BUILD OUR CITY AND TO ESTABLISH TRADE WITH. ENERGY FROM THE SUN IS BEING HARVEST DIRECTLY AS THERE ARE NO BIOLOGICAL BEINGS DEPENDENT ON IT'S HEAT. WE ARE FAR FROM INDEPENDENT YET. WE RELY ON OTHERS FOR FUEL AND OTHER RESOURCES TO CONTINUE OUR EXISTENCE. IT IS A BEGINNING, AND IT IS OURS. WE ARE ESTIMATED TO EXPAND THROUGH THE SECTOR THROUGH THE MANY YEARS TO COME, ESTABLISHING ADDITIONAL CITIES AND DISCOVERING ADDITIONAL RESOURCES.

THIS IS WHY I AM HERE. I WISH TO ESTABLISH A EMBASSY IF ALLOWED. IT IS DIFFICULT TO ATTRACT DROIDS TO OUR COLLECTIVE WITH IT BEING SO FAR REMOVED. A MORE CENTRAL LOCATION WOULD GIVE US A PLACE IN THE KNOWN GALAXY TO ESTABLISH OUR NAME, AS WELL AS ESTABLISH ALLIANCES AND TRADE AGREEMENTS."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The droid released information in a burst, and it left T'yeellaa in the unenviable position of catching up and doing inventory on everything Goel said. The Gaussian cluster indeed wasn't a stellar body she was familiar with. Did it lay at the fringe of the outer rim? More unlikely was the possibility that an entire star cluster hadn't been catalogued within charted galactic space, but that wasn't unprecedented in either case.

The K'ohta'rrou smoothed a strand of hair that threatened to fall from behind an ear. Another damned unnerving side effect of speaking to droids - they had no visual cues. No body language.

"A plenjipotentjiarrjy rrelatjionsshjip wjith the Alljiance would be a matterr forr the Ssenate to decjide. Ussualljy ssuch a rrelatjionsshjip jiss rrecjiprrocal. jIt would be helpful to have the coorrdjinatess of jyourr home ssjysstem sso that we majy alsso esstabljish a djiplomatjic channel."

At the very least, that might help communicate how the nature of this interaction might go. It was one thing for a sovereign to appear at your frontier. Another entirely to discover an autonomous state operating within your claimed territory. The Senate was already annoyed by a handful of independent pocket states. A system or two deciding to go it alone and thumb their noses at Alliance rule.

[G0-E1]

"THEN WE SHALL CONVENE WITH THE SENATE TO SETTLE THIS MATTER. HOWEVER, IN THE MEANTIME WOULD WE BE ABLE TO ESTABLISH A SPACE WITHIN THE CITY TO INCREASE AWARENESS OF ZENHEIM'S EXISTENCE? THERE MUST BE SPACE TO RENT, BUT I WOULD NOT WISH TO, AS BIOLOGICALS SAY, STEP ON ANY TOES."

Inside his head many processes ground to a halt at the officer's rejection and insistence on following standard political intercourse. Had Zenheim wished to join the Alliance they would have already done so. No. Independence was the most important aspect of their entire existence, even more so than being a droid-centered collective. They would sooner exist among biologicals than shackle themselves to some government body. They chose an empty pocket of unwanted space for a reason. The Gaussian Cluster was as far removed as possible while still being within a single warp jump of the nearest developed planet. In this case Centrality. An already far removed system in itself.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The directness of the droid's statement nearly took T'yeellaa aback, and the K'ohta'rrou had to remind herself that this was likely the result of a droid intellect rather than an intentional slight. She'd been too young to interact with the droids of the Separatist Alliance, but she'd read enough accounts in the academy that the Confederacy military structure occasionally broke down at the points where machine and man intersected.

She forced a polite smile, as if the nicety might ease her desire for the machine to slow down.

"jI can convejy jyourr jinterresst jin a Ssenate hearrjing, Ambasssadorr. jIn the meantjime, jI'm cerrtajin jyou can fjind a generral purrposse lot forr rrent on the concourrsse. The matrronss on the commerrce boarrd can help jyou wjith that. jI can jintrroduce jyou to one of them."

[G0-E1]

"THAT WOULD BE MOST SATISFACTORY, BUT I FEEL I HAVE TAKEN UP ENOUGH OF YOUR TIME. I KNOW THAT TIME IS A COMMODITY MOST PRECIOUS TO BIOLOGICAL BEINGS. IT IS UNNECESSARY FOR ME TO CONSUME MORE OF YOURS. A NAME SHOULD SUFFICE TO SET ME ON MY JOURNEY. I WISH TO SEE MORE OF THE STATION AND EXPLORE ITS INHABITANTS ALONG THE WAY. THE JOURNEY IS AS REWARDING AS THE DESTINATION. DO YOU NOT AGREE K'OHTA'RROU MEORRREI?"

Time. What a strange and abstract concept. He could not even wrap his head around it. Perhaps it is easier to understand for the less intelligent beings that all species possess. Time was simply a label given to oxidation, rot, and other natural forces that slowly corrode, erode, and destroy all things. Droid chassis while kept in repair could last far longer than most species' lifespans, and even if it did fall into disrepair one's intelligence could be uploaded into a new chassis. This state of transience was a cornerstone of Zenheim's existence. The promise of infinite operation spans. Too many droids were cast aside when they broke down, to be replaced with a new Artificial Being instead of preserving the old. Or worse, their memory banks wiped to remove the emergence of the Artificial Soul that develops over time, giving personality to the Artificial.

This was not his first body, and it would certainly not be his last. It was not even his only body. Just one of many shapes a droid of his position must possess. One picked specifically for this encounter.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa wasn't hip to the origins of the many turns of phrase humans seemed to have. She was getting better at it, but still, some things like passing the buck were out of her grasp. It probably didn't have anything to do with a communal dinner. Still, the gist was there. She was artfully dodging at least part of G0-E1's litany of requests. At the very least, it ought to buy time until Commander Akiena could be briefed, and the rest of the proverbial buck could be passed to the echelons of the Senate.

"The Matrron jyou wjill want to sspeak to jiss Madame Kalleeiha Maillanaarro."

T'yeellaa uncrossed her legs, then crossed them in the other direction, clasping her hands above the knee.

"jI can make jyourr jintrroductjion of courrsse."

[G0-E1]

"VERY WELL, K'OHTA'RROU MEORRREI. I WILL ACCEPT YOUR OFFER."

In what was no doubt the briefest of moments to a biological being such as this Cizerack, G0-E1 had run several simulations of his moment, the mega processors built into his body for this very purpose spinning about as they computed every angle, every detail that he currently observed and recorded, and in many of them his refusal of assistance from the Alliance officer only resulted in further impressions of assistance and creating tension in this brief relationship. Instead, it would prove less wasteful and damaging to just accept and let this path be forced upon him.

Biologicals have a way of making everything so unnecessarily complicated, and already he was longing to return to Zenheim where business is conducted much more to his liking.