Dan Vs. A Terran Introduction · 10:22pm May 11th, 2022
Terra Spacedock
T'Vret was one of the few Vulcans that had ever set foot on TSD. Still, her very presence and appearance- her Vulcan ears, elicited stares and scornful scowls from Terrans aboard. Her tight lips, pressed into a razor-sharp smile were the results of her suppressing the emotions such looks evoked in her. She relished the discomfort felt by those around her. At times, she would've preferred being an empath so that she could better feel their displeasure, the loathing and disdain the Terrans felt by having an alien in their presence.
She'd suffered their disdain long enough to become an admiral. She learned long ago that it wasn't something just inflicted on her, but something she could use to inflict on them. Another useful tool in her arsenal, as useful as the customary dagger at her belt or her concealed phaser.
"They don't seem to like you much."
That was an understatement. She didn't even acknowledge it. With a slight sigh, she turned back around to the two other unwelcome beings following her.
"I'm sorry, what was your name again?"
The robed individual turned his head slightly and replied, "Mical."
She nodded, as if he'd said something worth remembering. Worth anything at all. "Right, well, this universe may be quite a bit different from the one you're used to. But around here, we don't speak unless we have something useful to say. Useful. That's a word you should really consider more while you're here. For however short that may be." T'Vret spun on her heals and continued.
In most other universes, the dark Mical's advice would have been useful. She may not have been an empath, but Mical was, in a way. The Force told him much of what others thought and felt around them as they walked the halls of Terra Spacedock. Still, Mical kept his mouth shut after that. He could sense the Terrans around him all had a murderous intent about them, the sly, cold and yet reserved eyes as they watched T'Vret. Beneath the veneer of disgust, they all felt the same: dark. All of them were ambitious, craving power, any scrap of it they could muster.
Mical knew that craving too well. It ran thick through the halls of the Trayus Academy on Malachor. But now, with the Dark Exile dead, they needed a new master or the Sith and their own craving for power would destroy them, as it had before.
They were silent until they reached the medical bay.
"We've recovered most of your fellows. A few will be transferred to other facilities but some of the more... special cases have piqued the interest of our Science Team. We've brought you here to shed some more light on the subject," T'Vret said. She led them into the medical bay, passing several tubes suspended above the floor. Mical saw several Sith Assassins and Marauders strapped to them, some of them disrobed and some with their clothes still on. He wasn't sure at that moment if they were treating them or if they were experimenting on them.
T'Vret, however, knew it was both. She didn't tell them, though.
"And here we have your leader..." she said, coming to the bed at the back of the hall. "Quite unlucky, wasn't he? We removed the bullets. The body's salvageable, but there's not much we can do about the brain."
The body of Arteem Surik, the Dark Exile and Dark Lord of the Sith, was in a larger fluid-filled pod standing up in front of them. Unlike the others, Arteem was being kept in a medical capsule that resembled a kolto or bacta tank from the Sith's own universe. Tubes were connected to his back and neck, and wires were connected to his limbs.
"What do you plan on doing with the body?"G0-T0 asked, his voice mechanical and sinister as ever. The spherical droid had been silent until now, no doubt scanning everything he possibly could. The sinister orb had been Arteem's personal assistant and intelligence analyst, coordinating all of the Siths' efforts to maintain their influence over the puppet Republic government in their universe.
"We don't waste things here. You both have been called here because you may prove useful to the Terran Empire. Serve well and you may be rewarded. Dear Arteem here may be of some use to us... after a few adjustments."
Mical involuntarily swallowed at the way she said 'adjustments.' It was clear such things could be done whether these subjects were living or otherwise. He wondered if the Terran Empire even considered killing its subjects as detrimental. But of course, the answer was all around him.
T'Vret looked at Arteem, still holding that same, tight smile as she regarded the dead, floating man before her. She saw in the reflection of the capsule that Mical and the droid were both fixated more on her than the body. That would have to be changed.
"Make no mistake, gentlemen, we all serve the Empire. In every way, in every capacity, all there is exists to serve our Emperor. You may have noticed my colleagues bristling at my presence. It's no coincidence that Terrans share no love of Vulcans. It's to be expected. Yet, I've demonstrated my worth to the Emperor and been given a position in accordance with that worth. This can happen to you as well."
"I understand," Mical said. "We can provide you with information about-"
"You will," T'Vret interrupted. "And you will learn only to speak when your superiors permit it. This is your one lesson, Mical and the one lesson of the Terran Empire: we don't waste things here. Time, effort, or energy. They all serve our Emperor. So you will serve. The only question remains, in what capacity? Willingly..."
She spun around. In an instant, she was pointing her phasers at both of them.
"-or as spare parts?"
Both of them involuntarily back-stepped at the move, Goto doing a back-hover. Neither of them said a word.
"You first, chubby. What use does the Terran Empire have for another machine?"
G0-T0 took a few seconds to process before saying, "I was designed with the express purpose of-"
"I didn't ask for a history lesson, roundy. What can you do aside from float and take up space?"
"I would be adept at coordinating the efforts of your fleet. I am able to process information-"
"Alright, that's enough. You next, blondie."
Mical opened his mouth, then stopped, stammered. He suppressed the urge to reach for his lightsaber. Arteem was gone, at least in any capacity useful to him or the Sith. He had to make sure the same didn't happen to him.
"I can use the Force," Mical said.
T'Vret nodded. "Good. Elaborate."
"The... the Dark Side. It gives one access to powers some consider to be unnatural. It's something worth studying and I happen to be something of a historian. With access to the Malachor, I could make all the secrets of the academy known to you."
She nodded again. "So, sorcerers and their dark secrets. Gotcha. Now, you," she pointed her guns at the droid.
"I can help you control the populations of entire planets."
T'Vret's eyebrows raised. "That might actually be useful. Explain."
"I am a droid intelligence. I am more sophisticated and complex than the average machine. My processing capabilities were designed to coordinate the efforts by the Republic to restore the planet Telos until... certain events happened. But all manners of data collection, analysis, coordination and processing is at my disposal. "
Mical didn't even glance at G0-T0; he knew he was telling the truth. G0-T0 or Goto, whichever one, was originally commissioned by the Republic for the Telos Restoration Project. He was an incredibly powerful and intelligent droid, but when he was programmed to save the Republic, something went haywire with his programming. While many droids would simply break down when their programming encountered too many difficulties, G0-T0's did the opposite- it went into overdrive. G0-T0's goal of saving the Republic broke all his restrictions and inhibitors, and soon after, he disappeared from the Republic... and emerged as something else.
Not long after his disappearance, a new crime lord arrived on the scene at Nar Shaddaa. Calling himself 'Goto', the newest kingpin took control of several criminal enterprises, including the Exchange through some unknown methods, and established himself as one of the most powerful criminals in the galaxy. Goto communicated to his subordinates through holograms, ensuring no one knew his true identity. His goal was to save the Republic, now by any means necessary, including poaching fuel freighters from the Hutts in order to support the Telos Restoration Project in secret.
Goto teamed up with the Dark Exile during his journeys and remained a powerful aid during his reign. Mical instructed the Sith Acolytes at the Trayus Academy, G0-T0 commanded the legions of HK assassin droids. Together, along with their other powerful members, they were a force to be reckoned with. But now, Arteem was dead, and survival was a priority once again.
"So, I have one dusty mystic who can show me religion and I have a fancy, shiny robot that can help with chores. The question is, which one do I keep?" T'Vret asked. Her phaser pistols were pointed at both of them.
Mical saw her smile widen, from terse and sly into something predatory. This had all been a test, she'd lured them into her web even though they had no choice to begin with. Even now, in this moment, they were still being tested. Mical learned this. He learned it just now.
"We have plenty of machines, few empaths. Fewer mystics. I bet we could learn all about you if we just took you apart, couldn't we, fatty?" she said, taunting the droid. But G0-T0 said nothing. So she pointed her guns at Mical.
"And you. Look at you, quivering. You may be human but you're certainly not Terran," she said, taunting him. He could sense it; she wanted him to jump. But she didn't fire- she wouldn't. Not yet. "It might actually be better to just get rid of you and the rest of your kind. End something quick before it becomes more of a problem."
She turned around again. "Hmmm, decisions, decisions. Perhaps I will go with the droid. Less to clean up after, anyway."
G0-T0 hovered forward proudly. "If I may be so bold, you made the right decis-"
*Ksssheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerr-BAMSH*
In a flash, T'Vret spun around again and vaporized G0-T0. Twin phasers struck his spherical body and burned to his core. He exploded, blasting in half and hitting the ground in a smoking heap fire and circuits. His red Hal-9000-style optical sensor flickered and burned out.
"You will learn to speak when spoken to," she said, holstering her phasers. "Congratulations, Mical. You will take command of the rest of your Sith Acolytes following their own adjustments. Report to Admiral Daine's XO for your assignment."
Without another word, she left him in the medical bay. Mical was stunned, but quickly did his best to compose himself, lest he join either of the bodies of his former friends in that room. His first introduction to the Terran Empire had been an educational one indeed.
T'Vret departed the medical bay. Another new associate of hers, the one she really wanted to be in charge, was waiting for her outside.
"Hello, HK-50."
"Cordial Introduction: Greetings, admiral. Did your meeting with Master G0-T0 and Master Mical proceed well?"
She nodded, smiling. "It did. You may begin processing Arteem's associates now."
"Curious Query: Does that include both G0-T0 and Master Mical?"
T'Vret looked back into the bay. Mical was already scrambling with his datapad to get his assignments.
"Yes. Make sure they're put to good use."
"Polite Statement: Very good, master."
These guys might all be about efficincy, but havent seen anything as efficint as a vaccuum energy punch or a Kricket Ball yet.
Efficiency may be why the Terran Empire may never invest in so-called "megastructures", or even "gigastructures". Despite the vast resource and utility potential of something like a Dyson sphere comes with its own astronomical (pun intended) costs. The Empire could do better than waste time and money on... say, an attack moon when the same resources can be redirected back into the centrally planned economy or into more cost-effective infrastructure and structures.