Diner Port Cantina

The droid watched Jade disappear without comment, then cocked its head in seeming confusion as Gand left. It sighed as the tiny alien stomped out, further injuring the unconscious door guard as he disappeared into the streets of Carennia. "You know, I will never quite get used to his diction. So unique."

It ticced slightly, as if remember itself and the task at hand. "Anyway. We do have one more mission before we disband...Stryfe."

It leaned forward, eyelights focusing on the heavyset woman so intensely one could imagine it could see her through those lights. "We have reason to believe that the public records of certain planets are...not quite complete. When the people of a planet are unaware how much power they have given to their masters-or the nature of those masters-they become weak. Compliant. Lambs in a fog...or dare I say, mist." 

For the first time, the lovely voice coming from the GE3 unit sounded faintly sad. "You understand that, lovely Stryfe. That, among other reasons, is why you are going to Umgul. 

"This is our most uncertain mission, which is why it may or may not be the most dangerous. But Stryfe, you have the look, the charm, and the skills necessary to walk among the political and economic elite of Umgul and be accepted as belonging there. I want you to go to Umgul, infiltrate those elite however you see fit, and find whatever it is they are...downplaying, in their public records.

Then I want it to go public. By any means necessary. 

Do not worry about contacting your partner; they will find you when the time is right. You will have access to whatever recording equipment, licensures and identification you need to legitimize yourself, as well as any other tools you need when you decide it's time to provoke this particular beast. Above all, I want whatever you find to be public record--available to anyone, especially those it would affect personally. 

Umgul's people are sleeping. It's time we woke them."

Rodian mouths were not capable of grins in the normal sense of the word. Nonetheless, the thickset Rodian at the bar seemed to radiate good cheer as he mulled over what Sage had told him. 

<<A kidnapping, huh,>> he mused to himself, only half-listening as Sage continued speaking to members of the group that weren't him. <And with that little whippet. Should be interesting...wonder how many people I can shoot without losing the Senator...>>

He chuckled, a bubbling reptilian sound, and pulled again at the bottle in his fist. The heavy human woman had just paced out, carrying with her the heavy atmosphere that had settled in the room from the moment she'd arrived. Good riddance, too--he had one more night of drinking to do before he could catch a commercial freighter to Corellia, and he intended to stay and do as much damage as he could. The Librarian in his infinite wisdom had decided on a bar as the current base of the Sanbra Library Associacion, after all. A possibly-doomed man might as well get drunk one last time before heading to war. 

There was a second bottle behind the bar, marked with the sign of fine tihaar from the Core. Tsooba reached behind him to grab and uncork it, his bulbous eyes glossing over the rapidly emptying establishment. 
<So that's that, then,>> he commented to nobody in particular. <<The grand cause, finally underway...I really hope this makes sense to somebody, Librarian. Your favored friends don't look like all that much to me. >>

The GE3 droid slumped slightly on the barstool, as if preprogramming had come to a useful end. It sat in the empty bar for several moments, servos and hydraulics mercifully still. Nary a whirr from a motor or even the slightest motion. Deep in thought, or staring blankly at a spot on the floor eight feet in front of itself? Who could be sure?

After a full minute of silence, The droid stood on shaky, spindly legs, and opened one of several cavity compartments standard to the GE3. This particular compartment was in the breastplate of the droid, and it contained something small. There was no notable difference in attitude, nor was there any indication of satisfaction at uncovering the small item. The droid palmed the small, crinkly item, and walked stiffly toward the door. There, it stooped slightly, looking over the poor doorman, and dropped the item on his creased and soiled uniform jacket. The droid spoke once more, the voice like liquid honey -- completely unlike what should emanate from the vocoder.

You are relieved.

The man opened the crinkled packet, exposing two capsules, which he hastily swallowed, apparently eagerly. He quaked momentarily, and then was still. 

The droid took no further note of the man. It walked stiffly back into the bar, past the lounge, past the kitchens, through the cold-storage room to a small office that appeared disused. It was dark, the only light for the scene came from the droid's photoreceptors. The GE3 droid sat in the lone metal chair that occupied the room, which creaked in protest at having been disturbed. It initiated a subroutine, placed its feet shoulder-width apart, lay its hands in its lap, and waited blissfully for the self-memory-wipe program to complete.