SithLore

***Region: Classified***
***Sector: Classified, System: Classified***
***Aleph-Class Research Facility***

"We're all here, Captain," Doctor Ralla Nu'walle, Chief of Engineering, announced in her matter-of-fact style of speaking. Her bulbous eyes complemented her pale, bald, and orb-like cranium, as she was a Bith. Buggie knew her to be a notorious gossip, so if anything were to come out of this meeting, she would latch onto it, much like her dark eyes were latched upon Buggie at the moment.

Within one of the many conference rooms aboard the Manollium-class herdship that had been long ago converted into a top-secret Blue Star Pirate research facility, Buggie sat at the head of a white, sterile looking table with the top research department leads. While Buggie himself was no engineer, he had at least had a partial curriculum centered on the Verpine tradition of design before he was directed to a career in the fine arts. This allowed him to at least keep up with the flow of conversation as progress reports were made to him. He often wondered if Jay Mertaal assigned him to be the head of research on this former Ithorian herdship because, justifiably, he assumed that Buggie could turn a blueprint into a B-Wing, like so many of his fellow Verpine. While that simply wasn't Buggie's skill set, he managed to pull his own weight by calling upon the lessons he had learned as a temple headmaster on Ossus and, not to mention, by being invaluable at locating and securing hard-to-find resources on multiple occasions.

But the expense associated with such resource-finding excursions were where he had gone wrong, it seemed. The Sullustan in charge of budgeting carried a droopier face than normal as he reported that the research facility was operating in the red-- heavily in the red. In fact, he explained that in his experience, when projects such as the ones being conducted out of the Manollium-class herdship failed to turn out any real results, the projects were simply scrapped and the teams reassigned elsewhere, usually to worse posts.

Considering that they were currently stationed aboard an anonymous vessel that constantly jumped from a string of unknown coordinates to unknown coordinates, a downgrade in working conditions was not promising.

Buggie considered opaquing the transparisteel walls that surrounded the conference room as the reality of that possibility set in. There were countless other workers aboard the facility, from researchers, to security personnel, and a table full of glum faces reading a big, red budget report on the holoprojector did not inspire confidence.

As Buggie glanced out through the wall of the conference room into the research pit, his sharp eyes briefly took note of two Weequay security personnel watching HoloNet programming, which featured an advertisement for the upcoming Galaxy Cup, a championship shockball tournament that included the best players in the galaxy competing for their home systems. While Buggie himself did not follow sports closely, even he was aware that the Galaxy Cup was a famous tournament which was only held every four years. The frequency of the tournament, and the galactic following... those were the keys to an idea that was beginning to sprout in Buggie's imagination.

"There's no need to fear about our projects getting scrapped. I know how passionate you all are about these undertakings, and I will correct this budgetary issue immediately," Buggie promised as he rose from his seat. "I will go before the Pirate Council with a plan to raise funds in order to keep our facility in operation. In the meantime, return to work. We can't afford to be over budget and behind schedule."

***Region: Classified***
***Sector: Classified, System: Classified***
***BSP Monitoring House***

Buggie was well on his way to the Pirate Council, this time in his own starship in order to avoid exacerbating the issue of the compromised budget. First, though, he had made contact with a confidant that he himself had brought into the Blue Star Pirate fold; Jak Bexel. Bexel, whom Buggie regarded as a technical expert, had been good enough to point Buggie toward an operational facility where skilled intelligence gatherers and slicers resided. The facility itself was not much more than a store whose front held unremarkable wares. As he followed a tan-colored Zabrak behind the curtain, though, Buggie found a dark room full of faces illuminated by only the glow of monitors, where the coil of network cable could trip an unsuspecting visitor.

Clearly, countless other operations of the Blue Star Pirates lived and breathed within this monitoring station, but not the ones that had real, physical results like what Buggie had been assigned; rather, these operations were enacted through the HoloNet and sustained themselves on intercepted information. What Buggie needed was not to steal information, though, he required information be injected into the body of the HoloNet for public consumption.

It was at this point that Buggie was directed to a small four-armed non-Human, which he recognized as being a member of the Xexto species. The Xexto was referred to Buggie as a HoloNet network engineer, one that specialized in the establishment and manipulation of the transceivers that formed the backbone of the galactic communications grid. As Buggie described the endeavor that he wished to undertake, the Xexto's expression remained neutral.

"You'll need the right equipment to implement this. Specialized repeaters, hyperwave transceivers...," the Xexto rattled off, using his third hand to touch on digits of his first and second hands as the list continued.

"I've been running shipments of specialized communication equipment right under the Empire's nose over the past few months," Buggie replied, "If one of my men can get you access to this equipment, are you telling me you could get the job done?"

The Xexto craned his long neck in the best approximation of a nod that his species was capable of, "Put in a good word for me with Jera Nyi'Esta at the Pirate Council and I'll get started today, Captain."

With that accomplished, Buggie took his leave of the monitoring station. As he traveled to the Pirate Council, he made a mental note to reach out to Captain Jak Bexel once more to thank him for referring him to the Xexto, and to fill him in on what they had discussed. If Bexel had any opportunity to get himself and his crew involved, Buggie knew that this was not a project that the former Galactic Alliance admiral would want to miss out on.

As Buggie pulled away from the planet in his ship, he set a course for a location that he had never laid eyes upon; the meeting place of the Blue Star Pirate Council. This would be the first time that he attended such a meeting, and, from what Buggie gleaned, pirates of his stature oftentimes did not attend meetings of the Pirate Council. He would be directly petitioning the Council to stay their judgment of the research projects under his management, and as well would be stating his case to implement a scheme that would get him the credits he and his researchers needed to gap their budgetary shortfall.

Jumping through a complex sequence of coordinates, the copper-hued Corellian Corvette housing the Nightshade Clan was soon to touch down upon the undisclosed location of the Pirate Council. Since one of their own was to be in front of said Council, the Corvette was less a business-class experience and more of a cocktail party with the occasional jarring light speed jump to punctuate the event. The subject of the party, Jak Bexel, was in his cabin.

The three-sided mirror was a nice touch. It gave him a chance to do what he did best; stare into it and agonize over his outfit. It was baby's first Pirate Council. While his crew was off assembling their threadbare secret base in Takodana (of which they had yet to receive appropriate funding), Jak would reason that blue not lead the coat conversation. It would be seen as patronizing. Its sole place was in the piping of a knee-length deep turmeric officer's coat he'd discovered onboard the Corvette. It had been retro-fitted with a single shoulder pauldron in slick russet Rancor hide. He felt good about this and its deep secret pockets - this was clearly made for a pirate - but more specifically, a Nightshade. Underneath would be keeping it simple. Gunmetal gray v-cut shirt, a large trapezoid-buckled belt that felt more like a girdle, his cortosis sword sheathed opposite his K-25 and maroon trousers tucked into oxblood officer's boots.

This would be a fine garb with which to plead his case to the council for justification of his deeds. He would be more nervous if not for Buggie, who was arriving separately but would be accompanying him in his pitch. Add to that, Buggie's element was far more economical than Jak's. While the Takodana crew were readying the software and slicer droids from within Jak's new base, the out-of-pocket expense of the Takodana facility would likely be touched upon in contrast to Buggie.

The base, in Jak's estimation, would act as a "casual pirate stronghold", open to all scoundrels of all banners. The hope was for an informal joint where one could enjoy a brief respite between missions or network for more credits, with a certain amount of protections to keep the peace. No outward Blue Star Pirate signage. This was not a company facility but a front for a front within a front. Jak envisioned it as a confused hub of piracy, where word of mouth could be generated from within, carrying on the prying eyes of outsiders and spectators. Through the confusion of information, Jak's team would glean any pertinent tips picked up through the mass of grapevines.

There's no doubt that the ragged piracy holonetwork, the ones who followed the black market trends from afar, would be paying close attention to the activities of perceived career criminals. A protected neutral zone with its eyes on harmless low-cost gambling stood the chance to clean up - especially with what Buggie and Jak had in store.

Confident in his choice and silently justifying his expenses in the three-panel mirror, Jak took his leave of the cabin and joined the other Nightshades onboard. They would be docking within the hour.

***Region: Classified***
***Sector: Classified, System: Classified***
***Ryustlore - Blue Star Pirate Council Antechamber***

"Couldn't you have just worn blue?"

Buggie didn't mean to criticize, but he could hardly tear away his multifaceted eyes from the loud hues of Bexel's jacket. The arrival on Ryustlore was proceeded first by a visit to a cleaning station, where coordinates were loaded into his navicomputer after his ship had been thoroughly analyzed and all weapons had been confiscated. He had been met with a StarViper escort upon exiting hyperspace and the coordinates of the system were removed instantly from his ship's navicomputer upon arrival. Upon landing within the facility, which was encircled by a series of crystalline peaks, Buggie had been escorted to where he stood now. Bexel had evidently arrived sooner than he had and had apparently been reaching levels of heightening anxiety while he waited; the former Admiral seemed a bit sweaty to Buggie.

Before Bexel and he could dive further into the details of why yellow was not the best decision, the doors to the antechamber opened and Buggie and his Corellian companion were ushered inside to stand before a long conference table, where famed pirate captains from across the criminal empire were seated. Many were attending the meeting through holoprojector, and Buggie found that the Pirate Council was reminiscent to the Jedi Council he was so familiar with. Curiously, the Human that Buggie had expected to find at the head of the table was not present, one Jay Mertaal. The rest of the assembled were a motley group of hardened criminals, and Buggie was certain he saw a Whiphid with a golden tusk.

A middle aged Ishi Tib was the first to address the newcomers, her pockmarked and scarred eyestalks drinking in Buggie's simple attire, before she announced, "Director Buggie, R&D - Special Projects. Step forward and address the council."

This was a face that Buggie also recognized; Ribili Primb, Head of R&D, effectively Buggie's superior. He had sent her a memorandum of what he wished to address the council about before arrival, so it made sense that she had been the first to speak to him. As Buggie slid a datachip into the holoprojector controls at his end of the table, his presentation came to life at the center of attention. He only hoped that he could skirt past the fiduciary shortfalls of his research center without attracting too much attention and get to the meat of what he planned to do about it.

---

It had taken a few dozen minutes, and he was only a little worse for wear, but Buggie had offered his suggestion, all the while trying not to make it sound like a plea to save his exoskeleton from the chopping block. There were a few parties invested enough in what he was saying to interrupt him and ask further questions, but overall, Buggie felt as if the finesse of his plan was lost upon most of those assembled. It was plain to see; they were pirates, their life was among the stars raiding enemy vessels and tearing apart hulls with turbolasers. Perhaps, Buggie realized, not all of them dabbled in the business aspect of the group as much as he was forced to when securing the valuable pieces of specialized machinery that had gotten him into this mess in this first place.

One bleating voice emerged from the corner of the table, a somewhat frumpy looking sentient with long, thin arms and sensory stalks growing from the corner of his large mouth. Buggie wouldn't have known this was a Marasan and that the speaker was Captain Barg Narra, but he was glad to have someone breaking the silence.

"This sportsbook, will operate on the HoloNet, yes, yes?" the Marasan said, clearly thinking of the possibilities, "I do, I do have some suggestions for how to implement this project."

"Your guidance would be invaluable," Buggie assured, graciously bowing to the Marasan.

A Bothan spymaster twirled the mustache-like fur drooping from below his snout and asked, "Will this interfere with our other interests? We can't afford to invest in a project to cover your shortfalls if it means trampling the smaller operators who send us a cut of their gains, as well as information gleaned from their face-to-face contact with gamblers."

"All our research shows that this is the biggest galaxy-wide sports betting event, and it only occurs twice a decade," Buggie replied, "We have planned for operations to continue after the Galaxy Cup but those events are not solely sports-based."

The Bothan was not wholly satisfied, and he pressed his advantage, "And who will serve as the oddsmakers in this operation? You? You just suggested that you needed research to know that the Galaxy Cup was the biggest sporting event in the galaxy. Somehow, I am not convinced you follow the tournament."

"It's true, I don't," Buggie admitted hesitantly, "But--"

Interrupting, the Bothan raised a furred hand to silence Buggie and reached within his armorweave vest, "You need Spreadsheet."

Buggie's first thought was that he was referring to a type of software, but he remained silent, lest he blow any chance of this scheme getting off of the ground.

"Spreadsheet has a mind for this, and he's been working with us for a decade. He's an Assembler, don't worry, you probably have never heard of them, but their kind spawns smaller, hiveminded versions of themselves to aid in their day to day work. They're like a force multiplier for productivity. The only downfall is that if they're allowed to grow and learn, they eventually consume their host, taking their place as the master," the Bothan, who was known to be Jera Nyi'Esta, spymaster and head of the Intelligence Operational Division, explained, "A decade is a long time for an Assembler. Let us vote and get you in front of Spreadsheet, otherwise your luck may run dry."

With that, a vote was cast, and, despite several members abstaining, Buggie received enough support to keep moving forward. It wasn't a complete victory, but now he had the support of the council, and a few of the members had committed to offering their expertise in the development of the HoloNet sportsbook. Buggie patted Bexel on his way out and wished him all the fortune that the Force could offer in his own pitch to the council. The Human's presence was pleasant, but he hoped he didn't hold it against Buggie for not sticking around. Time was of the essence!

***Expansion Region***
***Thand Sector, Kafrene Asteroid Belt, Outer Limits***

"Hold on, Tweets," Buggie called as he gripped the controls upon reversion to realspace.

It seemed that the jump coordinates that the spymaster had provided him had brought him out at the edge of a microasteroid cluster. The rumble of a series of space stones bouncing off of his ship's shields prompted Buggie to adjust his course before one of the microasteroids slipped into a gap in his shields and did some serious damage. Buggie's astromech droid, Twitter, fed a safer vector to his navigation computer, and Buggie was pleased to find that the bumpy exit to realspace soon eased itself.

At the outer limits of the asteroid belt, a pair of larger asteroids seemed to be bound together with a glistening fiber. Murmuring to his droid that he had found what he was looking for, Buggie cut down on the engines and approached the makeshift habitat. Judging by the tiny arachnids hauling the glistening fibers on the outside of the asteroids on his first pass through, he had found Spreadsheet apparently right in the middle of renovations. Upon further examination, a makeshift hangar had been hollowed out of a flat side of one of the asteroids, and Buggie found that it was sufficient size to fit his own starship. There were pieces of equipment lashed onto the bare rock of the asteroids through inorganic cables, which was a stark juxtaposition from the glistening fibers that spotted the exterior of the asteroids, as well as the majority of the makeshift hangar bay. This was certainly an interesting sort of shadowport, but the true wonder was the creator of all of this, the Assembler known as Spreadsheet.

When he eventually approached the master of the habitat, the six-legged arachnid that hovered twice the size of Buggie was slurping the innards out of one of the smaller arachnids, which Buggie would later find out were known as "nodes." These nodes were tied to Spreadsheet through a neural connection and carried out the more menial tasks of the habitat. Just as the Bothan spymaster, Jera Nyi'Esta described, if one of the nodes gained enough consciousness and independence, it posed a threat to its master, and, eventually, would consume its creator if not culled beforehand. Several thick connections of the glistening fibers ran into the abdomen of the large arachnid sentient, and four of its massive legs featured brutal looking claws. When Buggie stood before the Assembler, it regarded him with eight eyes, four on each side in a diamond-like formation.

"You are small. You have not feasted upon your own hive," Spreadsheet observed, before giving a dismissive wave with one of its claws, "Weakness. Begone."

Buggie began to protest, but was ordered away once more.

The Assembler began to turn its attention back to its feast, and Buggie, with no other option, left its glistening chamber. As he lowered the ramp to his ship, a large node chittered toward him and called for his attention. This, it seemed, was one of the more mature nodes and explained to Buggie that Spreadsheet was unwilling to take on extra work at this time, since it had devoured one of its best nodes only days before and its replacement had, as Buggie witnessed, not been capable of filling its predecessor's role.

"I, however, have been granted some degree of autonomy from Spreadsheet, and am able to carry out that which you desire," the node informed Buggie, with what he thought might have been a furtive glace, "Under the auspices of Spreadsheet, of course."

Do I sense that this node is trying to make a play against Spreadsheet? Buggie wondered.

Deciding that he had no other options before him as ready to assist as the node, Buggie welcomed the smaller arachnid aboard his starship to discuss the plans. If he was lucky, the node possessed some of the knowledge of bookmaking that Spreadsheet was so famous for, and he could launch his plan on time to allow his research facilities to right their budgetary shortfalls. The node positioned itself across from a small holoprojector that Buggie had in his ship, and, ignoring the pulsating fiber that trailed the node's abdomen, Buggie began to present his plans in detail.

The node tapped its front claws together in deep thought, "Yes, what you desire is possible, but it will take resources to accomplish..."

Buggie had finished relaying his plans to the node, and, at the very least, the node had been attentive and engaged throughout. Still, Buggie couldn't help but shake the impression that the node wished to use this job as a means to leverage Buggie into doing a favor for it in return. As the fiber that was attached to the node's abdomen stopped pulsating, Buggie sensed that the moment for the node to ask its favor was about to come.

Sure enough the node continued, "In return, I would ask that you support me in my most ambitious endeavor. I know that you have met with the Pirate Council. I caught a glance at the lightsaber stowed within your jacket pocket. I know you are no average Verpine."

"When will you be pursuing this endeavor?" Buggie asked, caution in his voice.

"Soon. You will know when it comes to fruition," the node replied, "Until then, I will begin working with your HoloNet developers."

The node's abdomen fiber then began pulsating, indicating to Buggie that it was back upon Spreadsheet's neural network. As the node chittered away, Buggie thought upon the difficult position that he had been placed in. Spreadsheet was a Blue Star Pirate associate, and he had been sent to work with the master Assembler, not negotiate an exchange of services that resulted in its destruction. Part of Buggie argued that it was the natural succession of the Assembler species for the node to replace Spreadsheet, but the thought lingered that Buggie should not be involved in its destruction and certainly not in supporting the node's bid for controlling the hive. The node was willing to work with Buggie, though, and Spreadsheet was not...

But that was the difference between a pirate and a pirate Jedi. Buggie recognized that sacrificing Spreadsheet because it wasn't as valuable to him was manipulative and greedy. Those were hallmark signs of the dark side of the Force, and Buggie couldn't be lured into making that mistake. No, he resolved as he stood and marched down the ramp of his starship, he would support Spreadsheet, even if the Assembler had dismissed him.

Striding back into the master Assembler's chamber, Buggie was surprised to find the node he had spoken with perched right next to Spreadsheet, who hung from the ceiling looking upon Buggie with a pleased posture.

"You are loyal. Not as weak as I anticipated," Spreadsheet observed, gesturing to the node, "This node was sent to test your mettle. You have succeeded."

Gesturing Buggie out with his front claw, Spreadsheet explained in its choppy manner of speech, "The node fed me your plans. I will work to fulfill them. You may leave now."

***Region: Classified***
***Sector: Classified, System: Classified***
***Aleph-Class Research Facility***

"Injecting into HoloNet traffic," the blue, somewhat fuzzy image of the Xexto reported through the holoprojector.

The image of Spreadsheet looked pleased, if not somewhat calculating, as the group waited. It was nearly the eve of the Galaxy Cup, and Buggie had be anxiously awaiting this moment. If the sportsbook didn't have enough time to register traffic, there would be very little chance of his plan succeeding, as the money would flow elsewhere. He remained confident, if not somewhat nervous, as he awaited the Xexto's next report that their wagering program was up, running, and accessible.

The long necked mammalian sentient raised his goggles, squinting at what Buggie presumed to be the panel of screens in front of him. Reaching up past the projector and giving something a smack with one of his long arms, the Xexto sat back, studied his handiwork, and smiled.

"All set," he reported happily, "Thought I lost it all there for a second."

Buggie practically fell to the floor.

"Are you kriffing kidding me?" Buggie asked, incredulous at the news he had just received.

The holographic form of Spreadsheet shrugged its claws, "It was a poor idea. I never believed. I also never invested. Poor odds of success. Node estimated them at f-"

"What the frak do you know about odds?" the Xexto, also reporting in via holo, cried out, "You lost the company over a million credits so far! Over a million. And our names are attached to this disaster!"

Buggie slouched down into the nearest seat, his hand reaching up to press the base of his snout between his bulbous eyes. A headache had started to develop. The obvious question was then asked; what do they do now? Buggie, after a few moments of reflection, determined that perhaps emboldened wagerers would risk it all on some of the late-tournament matchups and the sports book could recoup some of its losses. It wouldn't help his situation with the overblown budget, and their chances of making all the credits back were slim, but perhaps it would keep him from being busted back to first mate on a freighter or worse, being thrown out an airlock.

"I'm going to need to report in to Admiral Liszt," Buggie announced grimly, the Admiral's distaste for incompetence well known, "He'll want to see me in person for this one..."