Last Stand

Othym's comm vibrates once, then chimes softly. An encrypted message from the Archive. The archivists were unsociable at the best of times. But with the war they'd taken their paranoia to new heights. He hadn't communicated with one in person in months.

It took a few minutes to unscramble the seemingly random system of letters and numbers of the DDC security. But eventually the message was clear. Something had been taken from the Archives, something important. He was to move undercover to the city of Talabnin and await further instructions. A room at the Trickster's Choice motel had been reserved under an old code name of his. Furthermore, a Republic operative would be joining him on this mission.

..........

Zeline's comm vibrates. It's a much less encrypted and considerably shorter order from Captain Borintus for her to 'grab her gear and get her ass to some middle of nowhere town called Talabnin'. She was to dress as a civilian and not to speak of the mission to anyone. A copy of her latest performance evaluation was attached as evidence of why she had been selected.

Due to whole "ongoing war" thing, Zeline assumed that she could bring around her carbine with her without bringing too much attention to her. And if she was wrong, well, she definitely didn't care. The rest of her gear, as instructed, had been packed away tightly to bring a little less attention to her.

The awkward bit, of course, was that her comms were attached to her armor. She glanced at it occasionally, also keeping her datapad in hand. Maybe she shouldn't have thrown her last personal commlink into the wall that time...

Zeline, you can catch a ride from Kandra's Run on to the next town where there's a trucker going all the way to Talabnin. He sounds lonely as hell and talks for hours about his family, the war and his youth. Still, it's a reasonably comfortable way to travel.

Talabnin is one of the planet's older cities and something of a cultural hub with several museums and galleries featuring promptly. The Trickster's Choice is a seedy motel in a seedy part of town with a receptionist who doesn't even ask your name before grunting and sliding a room key at you and going back to their vids.

The chime found Othym meditating, his awareness stretched far beyond the walls of his room. But that particular chime brought him back to the moment abruptly. It wasn't often that they contacted him directly. Having painstakingly decrypted the message he frowned. A theft, and they wouldn't even say if it was data or a relic. That didn't bode well.

Travelling incognito wasn't much of a change from his regular attire, his formal jedi robes hanging in storage. Somewhere. He threw a warm travelling cloak on over himself, his lightsaber well hidden beneath multiple folds. He fired up the rusted speeder that he'd borrowed during their pursuit of the geist and spluttered out onto the back roads towards Talabnin. It'd been a long time since he'd used Feugren as an alias.

Neither of you have any trouble finding your room's and settling into the Trickster's Choice with its uncomfortable beds and cheap bedding. The motel seems mostly empty and the receptionist mostly bored. There's no sign of other staff.

Just as you're thinking of turning in for the night a note is lipped under each of your doors asking you to meeting in the Motel's lounge. A room furnished with beatened and aged leather furniture that was positively reeking of old smoke. At least it was on the top floor with a view of the city.



In the room was only a simple droid going about its cleaning duties.

Othym slid the keycard through what passed for a 'lock' and opened the door, having to put his shoulder into it to get it moving. He looked into the room and sighed, exactly as he remembered it. The hard thunk when he sat on the bed confirmed it. The joys of field work.

He was beginning to worry he'd arrived early when the note pushed its way under the door, crumpled. Carefully he made his way upstairs to the lounge and sank into the worn leather, not exactly surprised by the lack of people. Even before the war he never understood how this place (and the others like it) stayed open.

Throughout the waiting time, Zeline kept her carbine locked and loaded. When the message came underneath the door, she half-considered firing a shot at the door. Instead, she waited for a couple minutes before checking out what it was all about.

She brought the blaster with her, of course, as she walked into the lounge. "Oh, hey," she said to Othym. Rather than be too familiar, she plumped down into another seat. Orders were to not get too chummy out in public, of course.

The droid continues cleaning for a few minutes before the doors to the lounge close behind you with a quiet locking sound and the machine straightens.

"ZELINE KOTH & OTHYM. Thank your attendance at THE TRICKSTER'S CHOICE. I am A5CH165. Please standby by for your briefing."

It strides to the centre of the lounge room in front of you and starts visibly preparing...something. There's a loud whirring sound from its processor.

"Loading....Loading...standby."

Othym nods at the woman as she enters, and takes a seat an appropriate distance from his. He glances around to check they're still alone (save the droid) "I never got a chance to say thanks for the leg, these old bones are feeling almost better than ever" he half whispers before sinking back into the seat.

He's hardly surprised when the droid straightens the begins its, slightly too loud, delivery. You'd have thought the archivists would had less of a flare for the dramatic.
"loading..."
Or would find more up to date tech

"Good," Zeline said in regards to his wound. Still, she didn't make too much effort. Instead, she kept her eyes on the droid only to be awarded once it spoke up. "What do you think it wants anyways?"

"Loading complete"

The droid's eyes flicker and then beam out a hologram of a small and clearly ancient scroll covered in signatures.

"The Archives has possessed the Obroa-Skai declaration of independence since the planet's official founding. It is provided on loan to a rotating series of the planet's major cities. Last week while the declaration of independence was on display here in Talabnin it was stolen.

LOSS OF ARCHIVAL MATERIAL IS UNACCEPTABLE."

The display dims slightly for a moment as if a huge portion of its energy had been drained.

"You are to recover the declaration of independence. We believe there may be clues at the scene of the crime. Information of the theft has been suppressed but its permanent absence would be a blow to the planet's morale."

"What?" Zeline muttered at the end of that entire spiel. She looked at the messages from earlier in an attempt to piece together why she was suited for this assignment. Good soldiers follow orders...

Zeline got up from her seat. "Guess we ought to check this place out then."

Othym chuckled as the droid played its proforma. He looked over at Zeline "who on earth would want to steal the declaration of independence?" he also rose from the tired leather "i'd say Archive missions aren't usually like this but.." he trailed off before looking at the droid "and where exactly was it on display at?"

"Loading....loading...loa-" And just when it seems like it will go on forever it spits out an answer.

"The document was stolen from the Talabnin Cultural Museum. It is an older TWO STORY building of white stone that houses cultural artifacts from the planet and nearby systems. The Declaration of Independence was there for two months as part of its rotation across the planet."

Othym is almost about to give up and leave when it finally answers. "Two months hmm, well that's plenty of time for someone to plan a heist. Lets hope they weren't too careful. Shall we check it out?"

"Ha, well, maybe there'll be a wounded security guard and I'll have to patch him up so he can tell us where to go." Zeline finally stowed her carbine on her back and stretched out her fingers. "Or just check where it was supposed to be and any cameras... If the place even has cameras."

You can make your way to the museum. As you leave the droid seems to power down and return to fruitlessly cleaning the lounge.



The building itself is old, two stories. Within are a range of exhibits from dioramas of the original colonists to artifacts from ancient wars and cultures. The bottom floor is still open even this late, although between the war, the cold and the time it's nearly deserted. Your footsteps echo loudly off the tiles.

But the entrance to the second floor where the Constitution was being held, is blocked with police tape and a surly looking magistrate stands guard, shooting a glare at anyone who comes close.

Othym finds himself rather enjoying the old exhibits, even if he's not entirely sure that the 'authentic Ilum crystal" is anything more than a plastic replica. He walks past the magistrate twice, each time catching a glare. Probably for his mudstained cloak, wet from the snow.
He leans in to Zeline "I'll try to get him away from the stairs then ciircle around - meet you up there"

On his next pass of the magistrate he stops and backtracks, trying to sound as concerned as possible "Sir, I think some kids have been messing with the projector. Its showing the aurora borealis, entirely within the cultural food exhibition" he pauses for a moment. You really should see it. Or at least turn it off before it sets the whole place on fire"

++

Deceive surley guard

Net Successes: 5; Net Advantages: 0

"Blasted kids, at this time of year, at this time of day, in this wing of the museum, localized entirely within the cultural food exhibition?!?!"

With a curse he trundles down the stairs pulling out his comm.
"This is Officer Chalmers I have a potential 721 in the cultural food exhibition, investigating it now."

((for a few minutes at least the path to the second story was clear))

"Huh, okay," Zeline said, carbine tightly wrapped on her back. On second thought, she reached back around and flicked the thing to Stun. Just in case.

For now, it seemed the Jedi had it handled. She sauntered on up the stairs and looked around for any other potential distractions...