Strange Acquaintances

[Judas Voss]

"And now for your latest installment of Dirty Laundry here at your favorite Underground Radio with your host, Slifer!"

Sitting back in his chair, Judas looked around the room he was sitting in. Situated underground, the room was dark. There was no windows, and only one light on, and a small little thing at that. Just enough to grant visibility to a room full of electronic equipment. So packed, in fact, that it there was only enough room to get from the door to the desk he sat at now. Hanging from the ceiling, a microphone sat in the air in front of his face, recording his every word. His fingers played across the instrument panel before him, pressing buttons, sliding dials, twisting knobs. Old radio technology was not exactly state of the art, but it was so old that people were not exactly prepared to track it. Which was good, considering the entire operation down here was to dethrone the empire. Any way possible.

"This week I have a very interesting discovery. A photo of General Hues has surfaced taken at a strip club of an unknown location. All I can tell you is that not only is this married man spending his Imperial funded salary on cheap strippers, but the one in the picture is, in fact, a Rodian! For a xenophobic regime he certainly seems to prefer the green ladies. What a bastard. No worries, though. I've made sure that these photos have made their way into the hands they belong into. Such as his wife and both of his children, his Imperial superiors, and anyone else who might have had faith in the man. While I'm sure the regime will just cover it up, you can bet that his friends and family will never look at him the same again. Now, for a change in direction, lets take this to some more stories of the genocide the Empire has been con-"

He paused as a red light on the wall started flashing. There was no alarm, just a flashing light. Schutta. That was the proximity alarm. Someone had just entered his home above. Shutting off the radio master switch he pushed his chair back as quickly as possible. Grabbing a closed butterfly knife off the table beside him he started flipping it open as he stood up. His other hand picked up a piece of spare piping he had used to keep the wires organized. Thin, but it was made of metal. He sooner has he taken a step toward the door than it exploded open. The first stormtrooper stepped through the debris cloud to have his head smacked up by a pipe and a knife pressed into the neck seal.

Judas wretched the neck free and tossed the trooper aside. The stairway down into this basement was narrow and crowded by spare equipment and boxes left on the steps. They were filing in. Stepping through the door he dispatched the next trooper in a similar fashion before the third one, using his height advantage on the stairs to kick Judas in the chest. Falling back, Judas swore loudly as he tried to get back up but he had a boot pressed to his chest, pinning him to the floor. He attempted to stab the foot, but his blade just slid off the armor. A loud click brought his attention to the blaster leveled on his face. It was over.

"Good job trooper." Came an almost too cheerful voice. Behind him a man in black Imperial uniform entered. An officer. stepped around the trooper and looked down at Judas, and then around the room. "Take him to the surface, and destroy all of this. Our glorious Empire will not be slandered anymore. Not by this pup." Judas could only glare at the man, wishing he could stab that man in the eyeballs. Instead the knife was ripped from his hands and he was pulled to his feet, his arms forced behind his back and locked into stuncuffs. Shoved up the stairs he couldn't do anything to fight back. His small house above was filled with Stormtroopers, as was the street outside. Ord Mantell hadn't seen a military dispatch like this in some time. It was not often that the Empire even bothered with a junkyard starport like Ord Mantell. Worlport was strangely empty of anyone else. No surprise there. People saw Stormtroopers and hid. No one wanted to be implicated with anything, or with anyone.

A large hover transport was waiting just outside in the street, waiting to take him and the troopers away. They had not even bothered to retrieve the dead yet. Typical. It was sad, though, that his operation had ended like this. He had been running this undergound radio for years now. Unearthing dirty secrets or passing along what other's had discovered. The Empire was a dirty dog that needed to be put down for the horrors they had committed, but he was just one man. He could not do much, so he tried his best to discredit the Empire and cause other's to lose faith in them. If he could incite a rebellion, a riot, anything. It would have been sufficient. He was a prophet. He did not change the world. He changed the way people saw the world. Now it was all for naught. Hopefully he had done enough through his radio station to make a difference. Because they were going to kill him. For sure.

[Akrabbim]

*Hmmm... why can you never find a good hot dog now-a-days? I mean, is it really THAT hard to make them? I mean, you just take some... well... you put... or...*

Akrabbim stops, mental derail finally skidding to a halt as he realizes that he's not even sure if knows what's really in a hot dog. Or if he's even ever had a hot dog before. Or if hot dogs exist. *Seems like they ought to exist. They sound good...*

He perches atop a small building, shadowing a set of Storm Troopers led by a black-clad officer. Thus far, this has been the least interesting planet he's found. Sparky, his pilot droid, ASSURED him that this planet was a major hub of Imperial operations, but he's beginning to believe that his faithful droid isn't so faithful after all. Or it could just be because he tried to force the droid to wear a black balaclava. Sure, the droid stays in the ship, and the rest of him is shiny metal, but still, they guy OUTTA care about stealth. Stupid droid...

He's brought out of his billionth tangent for the day as he watches the Imperials use some sort of breaching charge, filing into a small house rapidly. His scattered brain suddenly focuses, leaping to the ground and following closely behind, masked by illusion.

By the time he reaches the house, the operation appears to be over. He slips in, peering down a set of stairs, seeing a man bound in stuncuffs, hanging between a pair of Troopers. Well, its hardly a major ammo dump, but frankly, he's getting bored. Time to put on his game face. His Imperial Game Face. His face of an Imperial, in order to play games WITH the Imperials...

Shaking his head rapidly to clear his thoughts, he summons a new illusion, taking on the appearance of an Imperial Intelligence officer, and strides directly into the midst of the Troopers, coming to a stop before the officer.

"Good work, man! I must say, I'm impressed... by my calculations, you shouldn't have found our plant for another two weeks! Smashingly good detective work, sir!"

Akrabbim pats the man on the shoulder, smile beaming, then walks over to one of the Troopers supporting their prisoner. He has no idea who this man is, but if the Imps don't like him, he must be a good guy! That, or the Imps actually arrested a dangerous criminal for once. Oh well... if he's wrong, he can just kill the guy himself later. Either way, he can screw with the Imps.

He continues his glowing commendations, talking up the professionalism of the take-down, blatantly ignoring the Troopers who were taken out by a pipe and a knife. He glances back at the prisoner, a bit confused. Usually you need to be three feet tall and furry to take out a Trooper with that kinda weaponry. Then again, the guy could use a shave. Maybe that's close enough.

Akrabbim reaches down, grabbing the key from the Trooper's belt, moving behind the captured man to remove his cuffs. It's funny how much you can get away with when you look like a ranking Imp and move ahead with durasteel cojones. "Again, good work gentlemen. My agent here will be coming with me. Thank you all for your time!"

Unfortunately, cojones only take a person so far. He feels the officer's hand on his chest, holding him back from leaving. The man glares at Akrabbim suspiciously.

I'd like to see some identification, Sir. I wasn't aware that we HAD an intelligence officer stationed here...

"You don't... of... of course you don't! I mean, what kind of sneaky test would this be if I just came out and TOLD you I was here? The fact that you've never heard of me just shows you how good I am! See? Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Not shockingly, the officer doesn't buy the story. With a gesture, the Troopers start to take aim. Before he can help himself, a huge grin spreads across Akrabbim's face. *You know, perhaps I SHOULDN'T enjoy destroying Storm Troopers this much... no, wait... I've figured this out before... oh yeah... Imps = Evil, Evil = Smite, Smite = JOY! I'm good...*

Suddenly, the room goes dark... for the Imps. Akrabbim drops to the floor, yanking the former prisoner with him, the illusionary darkness affecting the Troopers only. He whispers into the man's ear, "Stay down... and watch this."

The sound of a punch is heard, and the rattle of a blaster being stolen from the hands of a Trooper. The Imps see an image of the Intelligence officer still standing, shooting wildly at the other Troopers, visible in the flickering light of blaster fire. The others return fire immediately, ending up blasting each other in the process. Akrabbim keeps up the illusion until the officer and all the Troopers, save one, are down. The last is dispatched easily by one of the fallen rifles. Akrabbim rises to his feet, helping the other man up, dropping his covering illusion, revealing his true form.

"Name's Akrabbim... and I have just one question for you. Are you evil?"

[Judas Voss]

What. The. SCHUTTA?

One moment he was being escorted out to his eventual execution, or if he was unlucky; the salt mines, and the next moment some guy saunters in and acts like Judas was some kind of plant or double agent, saying he was here to get him. Judas was self educated in the hierarchy of the Sovereign Galactic Empire, and he recognized the uniform and ranking pins enough to identify the newcomer as some kind of intelligence division officer. Everyone else in the room seemed equally confused at this development but none more so than Judas, who was standing there, with his mouth open.

Now the man was behind him, taking the stun cuffs off. It took nerves of steel to keep from bolting off right there and either running for the door or getting a weapon. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would go down fighting if at all possible. He hated to think what kind of information they would try to extract from him before they tossed him out an airlock. He knew a lot of information about other little rebellious groups. Nothing major, and he knew he could resist the torture for awhile, but being in his line of secret underground occupation he knew that the Empire had many means of getting the information they wanted. One way or another. truth serums, or just really, really painful torture. They would get it.

The other Imperials were not amused, and Judas had little choice in the matter but to drop to the ground once the blasters started coming out and curl up into the fetal position for a few moments. He felt the bodies hitting the floor. A stormtrooper in full armor weighs a bit and when they hit the floor Judas was surprised they did not go right through it into the basement below, but the floor shook hard no less. Judas uncurled and started to crawl towards the door, but he only made it half way before the blasters stopped and a hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him to his feet.

Spinning around he faced whomever grabbed him, and for a moment it was the Intelligence officer who had been acting weird, and the next moment it was a completely different man standing there. Holy bantha Granite Slug Man! Judas normally would have swished his green hair and turned on the suave, but right now he just wanted to crap his pants and find a hole to hide in. Today had been waaaaay too weird so far. "'s Judas. I-I'm not evil."

He tried to hold it in, but it just would not sit down. Like a grenade in his stomach it had to escape. No if's, and's, or but's. So he let it out: "OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?"

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim's hands relax on his sword hilts after the assurance of non-evil from his recent rescue. Sure, he may be lying, but the Imps were pestering him, so he's probably ok...

... until he starts yelling in the Jedi's ear.

"So, now we just need to... arrghh!!! Blast you, man, keep your voice down!"

He suddenly realizes that men yelling and firing several blasters may actually draw attention. *Hmm... I've got to start thinking these plans out past the Imp-Smiting stage... oh well...* He takes hold of Judas' arms and shakes the man, roughly.

"Snap out of it, man! We don't have long! Even Imps get a bit suspicious when large numbers of Troopers get shot down. Get anything you need and let's go. I'll explain things later. Probably. Or not. Look, more will show up, and eventually they'll get tired of me killing them and just blow the building up. Swords don't work well against explosions. So MOVE!"

Akrabbim moves over to the doorway, cloaking himself and scanning the area outside. Heads are just starting to peek out of doorways, whispering to those still inside. Usually, calls to the local authorities soon follow. They don't have long.

[Judas Voss]

The shake was possibly what he needed, but it really just irritated the headache the blaster fire had given him. The world was still a blur to him, but he managed to push himself forward, back down the stairs into the basement. The two troopers were still where he had laid them out, bleeding from the gashes in their necks, the sides of their helmets dented but otherwise undisturbed. He jumped over the bodies and made it back to his console. On the side he had a bag already half filled with a lot of electronic surveillance equipment that he used when spying on the Empire. A few items from around the room were loaded in. Judas was prepared for quick departure. Slinging the bag over his shoulder he grabbed his butterfly knife off the floor, wiped it off on an old shirt, and flipped it shut. Once pocketed he grabbed a second, smaller bag with a few personal belongings in it and then ran back upstairs, pausing in the stairwell to open the fuse box for the house. It was obviously modified with a few extra buttons. The right combination was imputed and a red light came on. Time to go.

"I'm not going to wait around for the Empire to blow my home up." He said as he headed out the front door. The guy was missing again but he had to be nearby. "I'm gonna blow it up for them. Let's get out of here before it blows up in 20 minutes...ish. I'm bad with timers." Judas was starting to get ahold of his nerves again, but he was still feeling rattled and shaken. "Um.... where we going, 'xactly?"

[Akrabbim]

Grabbing the man by the arm, Akrabbim quickly yanks him outside and into a nearby alleyway. Once there, he scans the area. Seeing no one around, he concentrates momentarily. A shimmer appears around the men, Akrabbim suddenly appearing a foot shorter and extremely rotund. Though Judas cannot see his own face, obviously, he is able to catch his reflection in a nearby window. His body type has remained the same, but his face and skin have become markedly different. His skin is blotchy, mottled red and white, but most noticeable is his nose. "Nose", in fact, does not do the facial edifice justice. It is a giant, swooping beak of a thing, dominating his features. If that weren't enough, near the tip is a bulbous wart, sprouting hairs and looking all-around disgusting. Akrabbim checks his work in the mirror, noting Judas' disdain at his appearance.

"Now, don't be complaining that we're not both a pair of vid stars. I know, it's a crime to cover up looks like mine, but hey, you do what you have to do. Imps make that a necessity. And if that ain't a good enough reason to take out the little white-shelled annoyances, I don't know what is.

"But you gotta understand, kid, people only remember the big stuff. The brain wants to latch onto somethin'... so, I give 'em somethin' to latch onto. If anyone sees us leaving, what do you think they're gonna say? 'I saw a short fat guy, and a dude with the biggest, wartiest nose you ever saw.' Ta da! Instant anonymity."

Without waiting for a response, Akrabbim hustles the man along with him toward the hangar.

"Since I was so nice in saving your life and all, I figure you could do me a solid. From all the pretty toys in your basement, I'm assuming you're pretty handy with a computer, huh? Well, I got a droid named Sparky, and he's giving me no end o' trouble. Why that stupid rust-bucket won't initiate stealth mode is beyond me. And he may be loyal to the Imps. So, I want you to fix that. The stealth mode, mainly. But the Imp thing too, if you have time."

[Judas Voss]

There was never a moment to catch his breath as he was dragged outside and along an alley behind the strange man he had just met. This whole thing was so weird, and he was not sure he should be trusting this man so much, but he did save Judas' life so it was not like he could just toss his away. Plus, in his new current situation, he was not prepared to deal with this on his own. Sure, he had an escape plan, a new destination, but the unit dispatched to catch him was larger than he had ever expected. That meant he was higher on the Empire's hate list than he had thought. There might be extra force on the planet already to ensure his capture. In short, that meant his finely laid out escape plan was no longer viable as the angles had changed. This man helping him might be the monkey wrench in the his capture he needed to get out of this with his head still on.

As they moved Judas passed a window, catching his new face in the reflection. Horrified, he tried to touch the huge nose on his face, but his fingers passed right through the flesh and touched the nose underneath. Strange. Some kind of hologram projection? He did not see a projector or any equipment on the man at all. It was very strange, but his entire day had been strange and he was not about to stop to question it now. Maybe someday, somewhere safe, he would sit down and dissect this day and figure it all out then. For now, he kept running, trying not to think of what had happened to his handsome, lady catching face.

"Yeah. I'm good with computers. Droids not so much, but I'm sure I can do something, or find a tutorial on the holonet. Can we get somewhere safe before I start dissecting your droid?"

[Akrabbim]

As Judas' hand slides through his non-existent nose, Akrabbim smacks his it, tugging it back down at his side.

"They're illusions, ya danged fool... I didn't ACTUALLY change your nose. What do you think I am, some sort of nasal wizard?"

He shakes his head, sighing in frustration. *Sheesh... you save a man from a butt-load of white-shelled goose steppers, drag him out of his house, cover him in illusion, and what's he do? He puts his hand through his nose. This guy'd better be glad I came by... with survival instincts like that, I'm shocked he hasn't stuck his hand in a blender or made out with a power outlet.* He hears the majority of Judas' comments, but the idea of making out with the city power supply keeps returning, bringing... interesting... images to mind.

"Good, good, that's fine. Let's just get to my ship and you can work there. If nothing else, we can leave if need be. Now quit screwing up my illusions, be quiet, and walk like a man with a hideously deformed nose. I'll be busy being a bowling ball with legs..."

Akrabbim lets the man ponder the full implications of the relationship between deformed noses and locomotion and guides him toward the purloined Rumor. As they near the hangar, Akrabbim leads them into a small alcove, changing their covering from the previous figures into full-out invisibility.

"Now... don't make a noise. We've got our red herrings more than in place. I'd rather no one know that I even left the ship."

They arrive at the Rumor without incident, slipping up the gangplank quietly. Once inside, the illusion is dropped, and Judas is introduced to Sparky.

"Here, my friend, is my suspected Imperial sympathizer and confirmed non-stealth pilot, Sparky. Have at 'im."

[Judas Voss]

Judas imagined a man with such a hideous face and nose would walk with a limp, with one shoulder up in the air and his arm clutched to his chest, his face screwed up as if being stung with an annoying pain that just would not go away. This man might have a name like Igor. The result was him shuffling after Akrabbim and possibly attracting more attention than his nose would on it's own otherwise. Mumbling buggerit under his breath from time to time probably did not improve on their sneaky escape. He had just escalated himself from being just a man with a big nose to being a crazy man with a big nose and a limp.

Eventually they reached a ship. Akrabbim's ship, Judas mused. The Imperial insignia's on the sides made him wonder just how his savior had acquired the ship, but in the end, it was probably best he didn't know. Secrets get men killed. He was introduced to a droid aboard the ship. Looked like a typical pilot assistance droid, using for lesser functions of the ship, such as turning on the auto-pilot and jettisoning the waste tank. "Looks pretty standard to me. Are you sure the ship has a stealth mode to begin with?" He asked as he set down his bags and opened up one and pulled out what looked like a heavily modified datapad. It had a larger power supply on the back and extra input ports from which dangled many wires and cords. Walking over to the droid he employed a screwdriver to pop off the hatch on the back of the droid, revealing a mess of wires and an input hole. Once plugged in, Judas powered up the data pad and after a lengthy loading screen he starting tapping away at it.

Judas was not a droid person. He could rig consoles to explode or hack into a computer, or even pilot a ship externally, but droids were something somewhat alien to him. They could be quite complicated and if you mess up their coding you could just ruin them forever. There was no going back if you accidentally deleted all the coding. So just in case he copied most of the general information his datapad could pick up and saved it to the clunky extra memory space he had modified on this pad. From there he just turned the simple coding 'switch' to make the droid accept all commands. With more time, and possibly looking up a few tutorials on the holonet, he should be able to code it to accept Akrabbim's orders only, via voice and possibly even going as far as face recognition, speech patterns, or passwords. Depending on how secure and/or paranoid his savior was.

"He should do what you want now... Droid, activate starship stealth mode."

[Akrabbim]

As the slicer starts to get into his "role" as a horribly deformed bell-ringer, Akrabbim rolls his eyes. *Oh well. Instead of thinking he's a guy with a huge nose, now he's a crazy guy with a huge nose. It'll do...*

Akrabbim ushers him up the ramp into the Rumor, introducing him to Sparky. In moments, the man has plugged into the droid and run through a set of instructions. Once he's done, the droid settles down, staring blankly. When commanded to active stealth mode, the droid does, finally, what Akrabbim had been trying to convince him to do for weeks...

...namely, pulling out a ninja mask and placing it over his head.

Letting out a whoop of excitement, Akrabbim holds up a hand for a high five before arching an eyebrow at Sparky, and slowly lowering his hand.

"Well... you got him to go into stealth mode, but... why's he acting like that?"

After a brief explanation of what was done, Akrabbim starts shaking his head, becoming visibly agitated.

"No! I didn't want Sparky wiped! I wanted his 'I LOVE THE EMPIRE' routine removed! That's all! This... this thing you've made him may as well be a calculator with legs!"

Akrabbim is on his feet at this point, stomping around the cabin. His rant starts directed at Judas, but is very shortly addressed to the cabin walls and the surrounding ether.

"... and furthermore, what kinda jerk gives a robot a personality, and then wipes the thing every few minutes! I mean, it's like, 'Hey, buddy, you're my pal robot... oh just kidding, now you're a potato peeler.' Just seems wrong... WRONG I tell you... in MY day, we respected sentient beings. Well, my day was kinda this day. Not this literal day, the metaphorical day. But in the time-period sense, not the brightness sense... but still, we..."

He catches a glimpse of Judas and Sparky... one regarding him like a blank automaton, and the other being a droid. He calms down, taking his seat once more, and sheathing the sword he was using to gesture with.

"OK, look... I... just want my droid there back to the way he was. All I want you to do is remove anything he has that makes him artificially loyal to the Empire. But leave his free will alone. I don't care if he's a droid... you're not making him into a robot on my watch."

[Judas Voss]

While his savior ranted and raved, Judas could only watch with horror as the man stomped around like an angry child. His hand strayed toward the butterfly knife as he prepared for violence, but then returned his hand to the datapad when Akrabbim recovered from his lunacy. "No worries. It's all saved right here." He assured his new friend as he patted the datapad. His fingers played across the screen touch buttons as he opened up the system restore and returned the droid to it's original state. This took several moments, but a slowly filling bar across the screen assured those watching that progress was being made.

Once finished, Judas changed his method of altering the droid. Instead of making it a slave system that accepted all commands, he instead went into the heart of the problem as presented by Akrabbim. The droid had loyalty algorithms to resist such a thing as being stolen or interrogated. He wouldn't be surprised if it had already wiped the star charts from the hyperdrive and rigged a distress beacon for the empire. Kind of depended on what kind of triggers and responses they had preprogrammed. However, for the meantime he needed to deactivate the loyalty algorithm. Located the cluster of files on the datapad, he sat down on the floor with the pad on his lap and reached into one of his bags and pulled out a micro computer. Flipping it open he connected to the ship's comm system and used it to get a strong connection to the holonet. He kept all his files on his main system at home on a proxy server on the holonet, disguised as a writing community message board. Streaming the files to his micro computer, he opened the ones containing common imperial override codes and started feeding them into the datapad until the loyalty algorithm deactivated. Success.

"There. He should be himself still, but with no loyalties to any particular government or militia."

[Akrabbim]

Once Sparky's back to his old self, he quickly removes the ninja mask from his head. Akrabbim frowns for a moment, but pats the droid on the shoulder companionably.

"No chance I'm gonna convince you to wear the mask, am I? Oh well... it woulda been cool, but what can you do?"

The droid looks around, coming back to his old personality.

Scanning... hmmm... it seems as though my Imperial obedience subroutines have been removed... but nothing else has. Why, might I ask, did you not just wipe my drive?

"Well, if I did that, you wouldn't be Sparky anymore. And I couldn't just call the NEW you Sparky... wouldn't be right. And once you think up a great name like that, you can't just let it go. But speaking of let go... I was serious when I said I wanted your free will intact. You're free to go if you'd like, Sparky."

The droid seems to ponder things for a bit before answering.

I would like to stay. If I return to the Imperials, I will simply be wiped once more. I have no other pressing matters at hand, so, if you'll allow it, I would prefer to remain as your pilot.

Akrabbim smacks the droid on the back, grinning widely.

"Excellent! Now... since you were previously loyal to the Imps, I'm assuming that this actually ISN'T the hub of all intergalactic commerce and communication for the Empire?"

He looks hopefully at the droid, which merely shakes its head "no".

"Ah... too bad. Well... since we're here, anyone know anything Imperial-owned that burns, explodes, or can be disposed of in an otherwise enjoyable manner?"

[Judas Voss]

"Ord Mantell is not really the belle of the ball as far as Imperial politics go. This is a garbage planet that is only on the map because it boasts a lovely starport city. Once you get away from Worlport the rest of the planet is heaps of junk and poor settlers. I only live on this rock because I thought it'd be the last place they would come looking for me. The Empire has an outpost, which is likely where those goons came from, but they don't have any vital factories or bases here, otherwise I would have firebombed them a long time ago. You might try a nearby planet, but your out of luck here."

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim directs a scathing frown at Sparky.

"You told me this place was CRAWLING with Imperials... not cool, Sparky... not cool."

The droid gives his best approximation of a shrug and a sheepish grin.

I was compelled, sir. I didn't turn you in, but I had intended to once you had infiltrated an Imperial base. Thankfully, that compulsion has been removed.

"You wound me, Sparky. I would think some penance is in order."

Akrabbim delivers a meaningful look. The droid cocks his head to the side for a moment before appearing to sag.

Very well.

Sparky grabs the discarded ninja mask and reluctantly tugs it over his head. Satisfied for the moment, Akrabbim turns back to Judas.

"Tell me, Mr. High-and-Mighty Slicer... how good are you, really? I've been cooking up a plan for a while now. I need one of you code jockeys to help me out. And, to be honest, arriving here may have been lucky after all. If you're any good, that is. If you're not, then this will simply suck. I'd rather things not suck. Makes me all grumpy."

[Judas Voss]

Judas snorted a little at that question. "Good does not even apply to me." He said as modesty skipped out the door arm in arm with his humbleness. "When I was twelve I broke into my school's computer network and gave myself automatic passing grades for the rest of the school year. The trick was sleeping at my desk without them catching me." He failed to mention that said school had been an Imperial Academy for rich, snobby kids and otherwise smart children. He was the latter. They had called him wasted talent for his lack of upbringing, status, and concentration. He came from a middle class family on Coruscant, where he helped run the family tech repair shop. It had offered him plenty of opportunities to tinker with electronics. Usually ones that were not his own. However, it would not be until the customer got his newly fixed datapad home that he would discover that it was either seriously broken or performing at post optimum standards.

"I may not be the best, but I'm pretty damn close. Droids are a bit tricky, but their just coding wrapped in a metal shell. Just like any other computer. I'm good with electronics. Slicing has always come second nature to me. I'd probably be out there working with the Rebel Alliance but I think they view me as a dangerous asset. Anyways... what did you have in mind, anyways?"

[Akrabbim]

As the man's self-aggrandizement continues, Akrabbim's nodding turns to outright impatience.

"Yeah yeah... good good... look, a 'yes' woulda been fine. But here's the plan. I want you to NOT hide something. But make it look like you hid a bunch of things. And those things should be people. But I don't want you actually hiding people or anything, just things people would have. Not like physical things. Like communications. I mean, it should be easy to hide things that don't exist from people who don't exist. But I need one thing un-hid, to make it look like the person who's not there is ACTUALLY there, just hiding. That's step one. Then..."

Akrabbim had been pacing as he laid out the idea, only to realize he had left his new slicer buddy and his old robot buddy in the metaphorical dust. Of course, he may have created that dust, but that was beside the point.

"Let's try it this way. I want us to make up an anti-Imperial group. I want it to look like we've infiltrated the Empire already... mostly low-level guys for now, but I want it to look like we're spread all over the place, slowly rising through the ranks. In my little escapade where I got ol' Sparky over there, I may have planted the first seeds."

He takes a seat across from them, leaning in, eyes burning.

"I want to start by sabotaging something else... it makes sense to do so here. A small planet would be easier to infiltrate. We begin by letting one communication slip... just one. Leave hints that some big plan is in motion... just enough info so that once we actually DO something, they'll see the connection. We pick a patsy here on the planet and set him up as our operative. In the end, the Imps think there's a major conspiracy, we end up taking out one of their men, and succeed in some random sabotage. How's that sound?"

[Judas Voss]

Judas stood there with is mouth open ever so slightly as he listened to Akrabbim lay out a very technical plan without any of the necessary technical knowledge or jargon. It was hard to follow, but with enough replays in his mind he thought he knew what he was getting at. Maybe. "So... you want to fake communications between two points for the sake of having said communications intercepted? Well, that's pretty simple. I already make and use, or steal and hack, my own communication relays to transmit my radio show. By bouncing it back and fourth across the planet, and to other planets, to eventually get into the holonet, or several ports, makes it harder to track and find, and even harder to shut down. This'll take some work, and travel, but we can take those relays, hook them up to a real comm system and project false communications. We would only need to be at one of the locations, since I could put a code in the message that would activate the second relay to send another back. A little professional, but outdated coding and the Empire will have the messages deciphered eventually. I think that's what you were getting at anyways. We can grab one of my relays I have here on planet and connect it to the comm system of the Imperial outpost on this planet... which won't be easy now that you've killed an entire detachment of them. They'll probably be on red alert and hysteric."

[Akrabbim]

The brightness of Akrabbim's grin matches the gleam in his eye, his plan starting to foment as he runs through the possibilities.

"No, no... that's perfect! We'll use our little incident to explain why the message is so easily detected... I want you to make two messages. Make the first barely decoded, or even completely unencrypted. We'll need to pick a good target, but once we do, I want you to spoof a message from an Imp here. Send it into the ether, but make sure you mention the fact that one of the guys we took out in that raid was one of our fake conspirators. Have him send a panicked message to the higher-ups, stating that the mission is in jeopardy now that he's gone. Send one back that's more highly encrypted, but weak enough that they'll break it eventually. Have it tell him to go along with the plan, and to remember to encrypt his next message. Just send this second message to our patsy. Once that's done, we blow something up, and run. They should put together the pieces just fine. Sound doable?"

[Judas Voss]

Judas ran the scenario around in his head several times, each time adding more complexity to the design. It was doable, for sure, but with a high chance of the Imps seeing right through it. However, if they were paranoid enough, or just strung out for the day, they might believe it in a second and go to investigate. Judas knew the Imperial ranks were stressed as it was. Promotions usually only came at the death of the higher ranking officer, which meant most Imps would jump at the chance to crush a rebellion and collect the admiration of the entire military state. They would be using their own lofty ambitions against themselves. Judas liked that.

"Yeah, should be cake. I'm pretty sure I have all the necessary equipment. I hacked into the outpost once a year ago, which proved not worth my time at the time, but I left a back door algorithm for easy re-entry. We don't even need to go inside the outpost. I connected a wi-fi port to said backdoor, left it dormant so they would not find it, and could easily reactivate it from outside the structure and get inside their system. Of course, that only solves half our problem. We'll have to choose a destination to send the broadcast to. We could send it to any planet in the vicinity easily enough, but sending it to the other side of the galaxy would require it to go through a lot of other Imperial comm centers and relays to get there, could take days, and would make them wonder why they never saw a message travel so far before. It might put them off guard, but there are a lot of rugged planets with outposts in this area space we could message to get the wheels moving. I would just prefer to not send a message that would get relayed through or past Coruscant. The Empire keeps the smart ones on watch there. Not the space trash soldiers you get out here on the edge."

[Akrabbim]

Akrabbim ponders the concerns brought up by Judas for a moment. *Why do these blasted Imps have to be so hard to take out? Is it too much to ask for a bit of the ol' 'sploding, and some happy fun stabby time? Stupid jerks... like they took over the universe just to annoy me. I'll bet they did...*

"Well, we wanted our patsy to look like he's panicked... if we send a message from him out into the ether... though Coruscant sounds like a good enough location... do you think they'd assume they missed the previous messages, thinking he took better precautions last time?"