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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2016 13:01:21 GMT -8
Z'har looked over the stacks in disapproval. People that disrespecting knowledge would disrespect anything. He didn't have his hand scanner with him, so any looks at the books would require a rather annoying manual access to his own core to recover. On the other hand, he could at least start putting things back in order.
-Z'har
This is ... a disgrace. I'm going to need a catagolgue of what all is supposed to be here & where it is supposed to go.
Z'har left his system humming along merrily, it wouldn't let anyone access it & would alert him if anyone came near it. It was time to get the archives back in order.
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Nov 13, 2016 13:13:21 GMT -8
"Affirmative," the oracle said in agreement, "the Jedi took only what they deemed absolutely essential when they evacuated the Praxeum. I was instructed to safeguard the holocrons in the absence of any Jedi and have carried out this mission successfully for three years."
Among the stacks were damaged Jedi training droids, their wrecked and carbon-scored bodies standing as testament to the oracle's words. Just beyond another doorway - this one protected by a ray shield rather than a durasteel door - were the Praxeum holocrons. Unlike the scrolls and tomes of the physical archive, the holocrons were as pristine and organized as they had been the day the Jedi departed, leaving their most precious knowledge in the care of the Praxeum's artificial intelligence.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2016 13:57:35 GMT -8
Z'har started gathering as many of the books as he could. Mostly he focused on the ones that had been knocked to the floor. Each was quickly, by human standards, inspected for damage & neatly stacked on one of the tables in the room. Once Oracle had provided the catalogue he would start replacement them on the shelves.
-Z'har
You know, you still haven't told me what I can call you.
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Nov 13, 2016 14:35:11 GMT -8
"I have no official designation," the AI said, "I was installed not long before the Mandalorian attack as little more than a prototype. Master Iorek has taken to calling me 'Oracle', I suspect in part to keep his followers in line. Few of them know about me."
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2016 19:29:18 GMT -8
-Z'har
Ora it is. You know, like a play on the word Aura? Because you are a computer?
There is a moment as he waits to see if his joke landed before plowing on with his last train of thought.
-Z'har
Uh, when am I going to get that book listing?
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Nov 15, 2016 15:54:03 GMT -8
"Apologies, Mr. Desmonde," the oracle replied after an uncharacteristic three full seconds of silence, "events on other levels of the Praxeum required my immediate attention. Nothing to be concerned about. Your book listing will be available upon your departure from the Praxeum."
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Post by Deleted on Nov 21, 2016 15:47:23 GMT -8
-Z'har
Upon my departure?
For a moment Z'har just had to be impressed. Either the system didn't want him working on the archives, or it was magnificently inadequate for the job.
-Z'har
How am I supposed to sort & re-shelve the books if I don't have a listing to work from? Forget it, I will find one myself.
Leaving his progress, he made a quick search of the surrounding area. Sure enough one of the connecting rooms was filled with cabinets. He recognized it as a card based listing of what books were in & where they should be. It would take much less time with a organized copy of the catalogue at hand instead of constantly having to travel back & forth. Heading back to the door to the archives, he found that it had locked behind him. That was mildly disconcerting.
-Z'har
Hey. Why am I locked in you bucket of bolts? I need to get something from my ship if I'm going to put your books back in order.
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Dec 10, 2016 10:22:14 GMT -8
"Forgive me, sir," the oracle said, "but there has been a security concern on one of the other levels. For your safety, I must remand you to the archives for the time being; I assure you that your cataloging will go unimpeded."
Monitoring the situation on the other levels and coming up with a plan of attack had been the primary concern of the AI; another interloper that had arrived with the first two combatants would serve only as another variable that the oracle could not account for.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2016 13:02:39 GMT -8
Z'har had a very good idea that the security concern in question was most likely the pair of jedi he had led here. If that was the case he would likely be the next target, regardless of the outcome there. It seemed his visit to this temple was going to have to be cut short. Hopefully, he would have a chance to come back & finish it off later. Until then, he would have to deal with his gaoler.
-Z'har
On general principles, I'm not too worried about my own safety. Open the doors.
He did take a moment to retrieve his equipment. He certainly didn't want to leave it behind if this got violent quickly.
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Dec 12, 2016 11:42:16 GMT -8
"Negative, Mr. Desmonde. My programming in matters of security is absolute."
Technically speaking, it was not a lie; the oracle was indeed designed to safeguard structural integrity at all costs. However, this was limited solely to its own processor; objectively speaking, the AI was incapable of caring about the larger Jedi Praxeum, although the same principles that held its own programming secure were translated as fluently and executed as diligently throughout the temple as a matter of what organics might liken to professional pride.
Silently, the AI tripped a security alarm - the first of many to come - signalling the Zabrak's toy soldiers to investigate a disturbance in the archives.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2016 16:52:21 GMT -8
Z'har didn't doubt troops would be on the way. Sooner or later, he would be collected. Or at least they would attempt it. Hopefully, he would be able to talk his way out of it instead of having to hurt people. On the other hand, he was very used to hurting people.
-Z'har
What ever happened to 'only Sith deal in absolutes'? Are you are Jedi system or a wind up toy?
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Oracle
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Post by Oracle on Dec 22, 2016 21:44:32 GMT -8
"I am an artificial intelligence programmed to preserve the integrity of the Jedi Praxeum. Ideology is irrelevant."
It was easy to see why Mr. Desmonde had so easily drawn the ire of the Praxeum's Zabrak caretaker. The man had no intention of listening, or making sense for that matter. Given his preference towards inanity - and the sudden need for increased security, given the fate of the Arkanian and Barabel cultists upstairs - despite his comparatively high clearance for a civilian, perhaps it was for the best if this one was not taken as a prisoner. If anything, it might earn the AI a degree of gratitude from the shepherd.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2016 21:56:01 GMT -8
The door continued to be locked. A situation that was unfortunate. That meant it was time to start breaking things. Discreetly of course. First would be the door out, then it would be to find his way to the computer's core. Making his way over to the main entrance, he pulls a few tools from his work vest. The hardest part would be managing to make it look inexperienced.
-Z'har
I'm afraid I'm not to good at this kind of stuff, so I apologize in advance for anything I might damage.
Z'har begins to unhook the plate to the door mechanisms, fortunately no-one had foreseen that someone might need to break out of the archives, so the inside of the door wasn't nearly as well secured as the external sections of the door.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Dec 23, 2016 23:10:05 GMT -8
There wouldn't be any need to break out. Almost as soon as Desmonde had begun his escape attempt, the only doors in or out of the Praxeum's archives slid open to reveal four of the strange cult's scarred soldiers. The first one to cross the threshold was a young Human male with olive-toned skin, wearing a black and green painted version of Phase II clone trooper armor less the helmet and holding a small hold-out blaster. Following behind him was a portly Gran mercenary and a small Bothan, both wielding E-11 blaster rifles. The last one in seemed the most dangerous of all; towering over his comrades to the point of having to bow his head to enter the library, a dark-scaled Trandoshan in truly ascetic garb - save for the large stun baton he grasped in eager clawed fingers - glowered at Desmonde.
From the security monitors, the Trandoshan had seen the show that their uninvited guest had given their solemn savior. He knew that their shepherd would greatly appreciate it if the disrespectful clown was taught a lesson. But as it stood, the Human dressed in a relic was calling the shots.
For now.
"Righ', now, you'll no' be comin' wi' much o' fuss, will ye now?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 25, 2016 21:50:35 GMT -8
While the door was opening & the thugs were entering, Z'har manage to take several steps back. This gave him a little bit of clear space in front & to his sides, as well as one of the heavy, sturdy study desks pressing into the back of his thighs. Z'har paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating the question.
-Z'har
Ignoring your atrocious accent, that really depends on where you are planning on going. If you are planning on taking me out for drinks or back to my ship, sure. Otherwise, I'm afraid I have over things that I had to do.
There was a slight pause followed by one more passing remark.
-Z'har
Really, where did you learn to speak. It sounds like you tried to chew through a brick.
There was another, even shorter pause
-Z'har
& failed.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Dec 29, 2016 21:36:48 GMT -8
"Righ', then. Spleen t' sternum 'tis."
The Human opened fire into the library, but unlike the men whose armor he wore, his aim was horrific. The first shot banked left, almost toppling a shelf. Another obliterated one of Desmonde's carefully-placed stacks. But as his firing continued, his aim improved, edging ever closer to their interloper.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 22:33:18 GMT -8
Luckily, the human was a terrible shot. That gave Z'har plenty of time to counterattack. Having set his hand down on the desk behind him, still facing the quartet, he snapped his arm forward. The book that had been scooped up in the throw was, to his dismay, a rather rare tome. It was plenty heavy enough for its task however. Traveling spine first the book would strike the neck of the human with enough force to completely crush the man's throat. Of course, the man wasn't a manikin & probably wouldn't stand still & let it hit him. Then again, it was traveling rather quickly over a rather short distance.
Not waiting to see if the book hit, Z'har rolled backwards across the desk. Laying flat out on his back at the start, before bringing his legs up over his head & landing in a neat crouch behind the very solid piece of furniture. The bolts weren't much of a physical threat, but it would still be extremely annoying to have his cover blown.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 8, 2017 15:09:09 GMT -8
The human was blinded by the target's speed. He'd ducked just enough to prevent a fatal blow - the CorSec academy he'd failed out of had taught him that much - but not enough to protect his unarmored forehead from absorbing the full impact of the leather-bound tome, knocking him completely on his back and leaving no small amount of blood on the cover.
Seeing their comrade fall spurred the Gran and Bothan soldiers into action, and the pair began firing indiscriminately into the solid wooden table. The Trandoshan, however, grabbed the canine's weapon and forced it to fire on the left flank, creating an impenetrable wall of blaster fire that didn't seem to care whether or not it hit their target. This, however, opened up the right flank. This, however, allowed the massive Trandoshan monk to advance, gingerly holding its stun baton in its clawed hand as it did so...
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2017 20:24:20 GMT -8
Z'har used the moments gained by the desk to do a quick mental inventory. First he had his two datapads, & the small memory cluster in inner pockets on his shirt. In his tool vest he had a more or less complete, if small, set of machinery tools & a few of the more common spare parts (mostly a mix of bolts & rivets). He had a small can of lubricating oil, four energy drink cans, two iron ration bars, & a small canteen of water. Next to last was the small blaster pistol riding high on his hip. & last was his ace in the hole, the 'program killer' device, which was little more than a memory stick with a universal plug. & of course, he had the entire contents of the archive to work with.
Taking one of the energy drinks, a bright silver can just the right size for what he was about to try, he gently lobbed it over the desk. The arc would land it more or less at the feet of pair trying to blow the desk into chunks.
-Z'har
GRENADE!
It was a dirty trick, anyone with any combat experience or even high strung reflexes would be diving for cover with the combination of a metal cylinder & that call. It wasn't the first time he had used that trick to unstick himself & one of the reasons he favored that brand of energy drink. It also tasted pretty good. Rolling toward his right, away from the side that had been absorbing the blaster fire, Z'har rolled behind the next desk in the row. This gave him a large number of additional tomes stacked up on the ground that he could use for blunt force trauma.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Jan 26, 2017 10:46:51 GMT -8
The Gran and Bothan dove to their left, ceasing fire and scrambling for cover among the ramshackle stacks. Still delirious from the book that he blocked with his face, the Human cultist looked up just in time to see the can bounce off of the stone floor and roll to a stop right next to him. It didn't matter that the silver thing identified itself as some off-brand energy supplement. Between the voice calling out about a grenade and the silver metal cylinder in front of his face, the Human knew what he had to do. Scrambling, the scarred cultist rolled himself over and covered the can with his armored body, screaming in defiance as he waited for the explosive death that the drink - now with four different kinds of stimulants - would not bring.
Unlike his three compatriots, however, the Trandoshan acolyte was neither inexperienced nor foolish. Prior to his indoctrination he'd been a bounty hunter, and a rather good one at that. When the shepherd had called the galaxy to action, the massive reptilian man had something he'd long asked for; a chance to use his vicious talents for true good, rather than the highest bidder. Nevertheless, his dirty trade had imparted upon him several skills. Staring down sights for almost three decades had allowed the Trandoshan cultist to identify a target with a glance. Tactical training and group hunts let the lizard know that the only reason you'd announce a grenade pull was to warn your allies, of which the interloper in the archives had none. And years of hunting the galaxy's most wanted had given him the greatest gift of all; a head cool enough to put it all together, and roll forward rather than behind. When the can finally landed, his three compatriots were either in cover or providing it.
The Trandoshan, however, was now flanking their enemy.
With a roar, the monstrous devotee charged towards the intruder, aiming to plaster him against the far wall.
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