[IC] Star Wars: Grievous Ascent

[Alfhedil]

As the morning light slowly rose over the horizon and crept across the garden grounds, a single bloom drifted lazily in the pond, alone among dozens of buds. The soft white petals yearned for the crisp light of day, basking in the warmth and relaxing down against the pad as the sun was crawling overhead. All around it, others had yet to bloom, despite the care of the gardeners and the ideal conditions of the year. Some had even sank below the waters, their roots having rotted away unseen, or eaten by the fat fish swimming about the pond. Soft strands of the force ran between the flowers, their innate affinity linking them to it and feeding off the balance of energies.

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat upon the bench at the edge of the pond, his mind in deep thought as he observed the flower and the force as he did every morning. The Gardens of Mandalore had always been more his own creation than one of the Paladin, a way of easing his mind before the inevitable headache of keeping the peace between the Enclaves. This was the price of balance within the order, however, one that he bore alone. A stirring at his side alerted him to another within the gardens, the soft swish of robes belonging to another of the order come to speak directly with him. To his surprise it was the master of Taris, Shimmerene the Cold Void, one of the more dark aligned masters.

"It has been some time since you have come to visit, Cold Void." He said, curiosity evident in his tone as he welcomed the master to have a seat beside him, despite knowing the master always preferred to stand. Even more curious than Shimmerene's visit, was that the master accepted the offer, sitting upon the bench and staring out across the pond from beneath the folds of the hood.

"My... My apprentices have begun their new life. I am now the master of cracked stone and dusty tomes once more." The voice which spoke was one that had clearly not been used for a long time, a rasp heavy on the otherwise feminine voice. Small ashen hands reached from the folds of the cloak, laying back the hood to reveal a dark face that would have otherwise been beautiful had it not been for the lack of emotion clear on her face. Her red eyes, however, seemed to bear a great sadness which reflected outwards in her dark aura of despair and coldness.

Kenobi was unsure how to react, never before truly knowing the face of the Cold Void, or even knowing whether she was truly a gendered being. "We all find our paths sooner or later, Master Shimmerene, it was merely their time. Were you planning to remain on Taris and head the Enclave there? Could always use you around the temple here, dealing with some of the other masters gets tiring after a while." He gave a smirk, the kind he was infamous for back when the Order truly was the Jedi Order.

"At one point," She said softly, trying to reduce the strain on her little used vocal cords "I would have said no, for despite what I may seem to others, I am still somewhat capable of forming attachments. Now though, I am alone without them, Solace and Requiem have gone to walk their path and leave me to my own."

For a long moment the two sat upon the bench in silence, looking out upon the pond and the single flower bloomed in the center. Slowly, another opened up near it, soft blue petals unfolding to embrace the light. Kenobi leaned forward, a slight smile forming as he watched others bloom, one by one until the pond was filled with dozens of blooms of many colors, each of them floating lazily in the water and seeking the warmth of the sun. "It seems a new age has begun." He said simply, leaning back to relax before the imminent meeting. "Indeed it has." Shimmerene returned, looking down at her own hands in her lap, wondering what this new era would bring.

[Bell]

Ishtara, the frozen moon of Taris, and its only settlement being a literal hole in the ground, deep beneath the ice. Colonists had been arriving daily to take up the many available jobs. Construction was the priority, but there was use for many other things such as engineers, merchants, and even scientists. Many had come to the moon to research the strange ice that formed the surface of the moon, and the properties that allowed it to remain solid even at warmer than usual temperatures. Some of these scientists however were quickly re-purposed, instead beginning work on a project known only as 'Project Wisdom'. This project was mysterious and only those who took part knew anything about it. The effects of this project could be seen all throughout the colony, as the spire that stood so tall in its center that it touched the ceiling and the ground would glow a deep blue, shining like a massive light bulb, with the source being the rounded room at its core.

Within the spire, the girl who had been called the "Sith Child" oversaw the construction of a great machine. Though she was but a young adult, the self proclaimed Sith Lord already developed a brilliant mind. Many of her schemes and projects had no true results, and were simply used to sate her curiosity. This however was different. Much like the initial development of the advanced droids known as Reapers, this project was but another step in the evolution of something dark, but very much grand in scale and the nature was far from sinister.

Bell entered the inner chambers of her Citadel where the project was ready to get underway, escorted by her two recent apprentices. Inside her two former apprentices were overseeing everything, two more brilliant minds like her own capable of wonderful things. In the center was an operation table, with a reaper droid locked into it.

"You two have come here with me as my apprentices, without even knowing if I am a worthy master. I will show you the knowledge I have to offer you, and what we are capable of together. Let me show you that I am worthy of being your master so there is no doubt."

She walked down the solid white metal steps, the entire room being made of this same material, perhaps resembling much of the labs on Kamino. She stood before the reaper droid, who looked down at her slowly without saying a word.

"Grim. You were my first Reaper. My first droid capable of expertly wielding a lightsaber, and even holding your own against those who were capable of using the force against you. You proved yourself a challenge even for my apprentices in their time. But you lack something. You are not the first droid to wield a lightsaber, but we can give you something a droid has never had before. To do this however, you will be sent into your own mind for thousands of years. You will be alone for all that time, even as much less time will pass here in the waking world. Do you accept this?"

The Reaper didn't even need to consider it as he nodded to her. "Yes. I am ready for what must be done. I am a droid. Devoid of emotion, devoid of want. No matter the amount of time that I am alone it will not matter to me. As I do not see the passage of time as you do."

Bell nodded and stepped away, nodding to her former apprentices.

The operation table lowered down, bringing Grim down as if he was lying in bed. Mechanical arms lowered down, attaching all sorts of wires into sockets on his body. The lights in the room dimmed and a turbine-like generator buzzed to life, producing a bright blue glow. As the turbine spun faster and faster, it got quieter, and soon there was nothing but a soft hum and the blue glow. The other scientists working on the project worked the controls at their stations and the lights on Grim's body dimmed until they went out.

"That's it. He's in."

Bell nodded before leaving the room with her apprentices to watch from behind a glass wall that blocked all sound from inside the main room. "Grim, the first Reaper I ever had created. We have tied in his memory to an extremely powerful source of energy and all the hardware he could ever need. His body is powered down while his mind remains active, working faster than any known machine ever has. Every second for us is multiple days for him within his own mind. Over the course of the next few days, he will be in his own mind, with infinite power. He will think. His mind will develop beyond the simplicity that it is. He will learn to understand things that other droids do not. Perhaps he will become more than a droid. Thousands of years to think about anything and everything, and to do anything, to test things, learn things, discover things..."

She turned to her apprentices and thought for a moment. "It is already a first. For the first time, a droid is dreaming. And it will lead to great things. Terrible or wonderful, it will be great."

[Sigma]

Fiviune System, Deep Space
Somewhere along the outer edges of the Fiviune System, the Crusader, a lone Acclamator Carrier, cruised silently through the freezing darkness of space as it went for it's last round of patrol duty before it would make its eventual return to Magnus Fivi. In the quiet, uneventful journey, the Crusader was slowly passing through the heart of an old ship scrapyard, a left over of the Trade Federation's last incursion into Grumani Space a few years ago. Dozens of ships now reduced to hundreds, perhaps thousands of shredded, melted metal slowly drifting around the system. The Crusader and her crew had paid witness to this battle, and were the few to survive the onslaught.

Crusader Command Bridge
From within the carrier's command bridge, sat a human officer, looking close to his mid thirties, slumping over his chair, his eyes blankly starring into the void in front of him, and beside him was an old T-series Super Tactical Droid, an old leftover after the uprising, reprogrammed and repainted into shades of teal, blue and some gray.

"Captain Angmos, Patrol of the border shall end within the hour." The droid droned to the Captain. He shook his head and sat straight up at attention. "Thank the Force." Captain Agnmos said with a sigh of relief. "This can't end any sooner...can't wait till we get home."

For a good minute the Captain watched optimistically at the stars as their shift nearly came to an end, watching as a wing of starblades zooming pass the Cruader's bridge. "Dobe" he spoke of the name of the droid." Any interesting reports from fighter patrols?" The droid remained silent for a moment as it reach for a small datapad, scanning the reports in the logs. "None of importance thus far, Captain." He replied. "All is quiet."

"Ah, well good then. Last thing we need is surprise invasions from the feddies." words that he'll regret uttering as sirens soon followed, red lights flashing intensely. "Sir! We got several hyperspace signatures ahead of us!" one of the crewmen cried out.

"Oh what the hell!?!?" He shouted out, throwing his arms up in frustration for a brief moment before quickly sitting down. "Damn it all....battle stations!"

[Alfhedil]

The Mandalorian Renaissance

Welcome to the war!
Welcome to the war!
A martyr's challenge!

Chainsaw brutality!
Tornado strength!

The vessel screamed out of hyperspace at full ahead, her engines powering the mass of durasteel and firepower into and through the feeble picket set up around the asteroid, smashing a droid fighter across the Hammerhead cruiser's prow. As soon as she had cleared hyperspace, the main cannons opened up on the defenders, turbolaser skewering through those who were too slow to move their vessels out of her way, and scattering the fleet. The batteries on the sides of the vessel opened up next, the hangar bays revealing artillery guns mounted into the rear of the bays and laying waste to the heavier ships as she passed them by. Bloody ruin was left in the wake as the vessel kept pace, pushing through the wreckage and docking at the station. Script was emblazoned across the hull of the vessel, denoting victorious space battles and marking where it had been struck by return fire, but to those who hastily manned the defenses, only one of these markings drew their eyes.

The Mandalorian Renaissance. That name had become known throughout the sector as belonging to the Mandalorian and Clone mercenary group known almost as much for their bloody efficiency as their tendency to take upon any job that pays enough. "ALRIGHT YOU BITCHES." The words were bellowed across the station via the proximity holonet, the background noise of heavy music playing behind the speaker. "Y'all got to the count of ten to get the fuck away from your posts and lay your weapons to the ground! This here is an official collection on behalf of the Galactic Bounty Offices. GET MOVING YOU TOSSERS."

For a good three seconds the defenders debated whether or not they should actually submit, but that was all it took for the crew of the Renaissance. The boarding clamps fired, opening outward to reveal eight heavily armed Mandalorians in Katarn Commando armor, all of them distinctly marked with traditional tattoos upon their armor. Barely a second passed before both parties opened fire, blaster-fire filling the space between the cruiser and the station as the mercenaries pushed forward. "MC-55, push west." The feminine voice smoothly spoke over the internal voxnet for the squad, directing them as to the best route possible and watching carefully.

"MC-28, Duck and cover, you got anti-vehicle fire coming up." Sure enough, just as she pointed it out, a rocket screamed over the head of MC-28, the exhaust cooking off some of the green pain on his shoulder-pads. "Thanks Cass." He called back, before muting her channel briefly and pushing to take out the position. Back in the ship, just as he had expected, Cassandra Orkhota slammed her fist upon the panel and screamed into the mic, berating him ceaselessly even as she knew he had muted her. "Hey Cass, you know he's muted you right?" MC-37, Archon spoke over the rotary cannon humming in his grip, putting down fire to cover MC-55 and MC-28 as they moved into cover beside the doors.

"I bloody well know that you tosser!" Her shrill voice came over the net causing him to wince slightly even as the team chuckled over her irritation. "And you too! Stay fecking professional! Either use the code-names or the damned numbers you were given!" An explosion rocked the exterior of the station as the doors blew inwards from the charges set, and the eight of them pushed into the station proper. Blaster fire riddled the doors and filled the halls as the team split to either side, watching the cannons of the Renaissance turn to fire a succession of turbolaser bolts down the hallway. Once the smoke had cleared, the team moved in and began clearing rooms one by one.

"You know MA-13," MC-55, Templar said with a chuckle as he pulled his knife free from a defender who had decided to get a little closer than he wanted. "Maybe we would all take your commands a little more seriously if you wore pants when you were on command." The whole team had a laugh as inside the ship, Cassandra looked down to her bare thighs with a deepening blush and screamed back into the vox "That's not your concern!" A moment of silence filled the vox as the team continued their operations before she softly mumbled into the mic "Besides, I work better this way..."

If the defenders had not known to fear the Mandalorians before, surely they had reason to now, as the eight mercenaries took them down laughing hysterically to the commander only they could hear. With the end of the operation in sight as they rounded the corner towards the command center of the station, the mercenaries broke out into an old Mandalorian crusade song, their voices lifted in good spirits as they broke the morale of the defenders and busted down the doors to last defense. There the Sullustan commander cowered behind a heavy chair, gesturing at the hired help who laid down their weapons rather than continue fighting. "Oi. Bitch. Turn around and face me." The words came out over the station's internal speakers into the command room itself, complimenting the image of Cassandra on the main view screen.

"Ah, *ahem*. Ma'am, zoom on your face. You're showing him a bit more than you'd like." Archon said quietly, the team stifling a laugh as they watched her look down and quickly redirect the camera away from her panties and back up to her face. The sullustan, of course, was still cowering even with the delay, but was "encouraged" to turn around and face her.

"Please! Spare me!" He begged, quite unconvincingly mind you, but the effort was still there.

Cassandra had a chuckle, motioning towards Templar to cuff him to the command throne. "Now, listen here gill-face. We got orders to sink this hunk of shit into the void, and you with it. Our client has no love for you, or your kind really-"

"They're a bit of a racist fuck." Archon chimed in, to which the team nodded along and the Sullustan's face drained of color

"Yeah, that they are. But, that's not the point. What we can do, however, is offer up an alternative solution."

"Yes! Anything! I'll do whatever you want!" The sullustan was really laying it on now, shaking in the throne as he saw a way out.

"Oh cool. Alright, I'll leave it to the squad and with luck, I'll see you in the cell-block to negotiate your terms." The vox shut off as she blew a kiss through the screen, leaving only static, a cowering Sullustan and eight well-armed Mandalorians.

"Well, here's the deal." Archon said simply, pulling up a crate and sitting upon it with his rifle in his lap. "Now, you see, me and Wildcard have a bit of a bet going. What I'm going to need you to do, is give me your best impression of an Exogorth mating call."

[Bell]

Project Wisdom - Thirty Percent

"Why am I here? To find wisdom, but what does that mean? What is it I'm searching for? Is wisdom an object? A tool? A weapon? No, I know what wisdom is... it's something organics have. It's something they earn over the span of a long life filled with experiences. But there are organics who go their entire lives without ever once being known as 'wise'. What is it that makes the wisest of organics what they are. Is it knowledge? Are they simply smarter than others are? If I were to study everything I possibly can, history, math, science, art... would that make me wise? Would I be wise if I could answer and question anyone could possibly ask me? But... there are machines who can do this. There are machines that have that knowledge and yet they are not considered wise. Even if organics could give a machine such a title, I don't believe they would give it to a machine simply for knowing everything. But... that's not all she asked of me. She wants me to be the first... of something. Not just wisdom, I have to become something more than that. She wants me to be like organics... the first machine to develop consciousness beyond programming. But is that not what an organics mind is? Is it not a complex web of possibilities with a response to every possible situation? A memory that stores information the organic has gained over the course of a lifetime. Is this not programming? If such a complex thing makes one self aware and conscious of their own being, then how can I obtain such advanced programming... I need to understand organics better. I need to know how they work. If I am to be here for as long as she said, then I have plenty of time. I can speed simulations. She has given me thousands of years. I can have millions if I wish, that is the power I have been given. Yes, I must understand organics... I must see how they work."

Within the mind of the Reaper known as Grim is fabricated a place that could almost resemble space. Lights glitter in the distance and colors are spread across the 'sky' like a painting. The droid floats there within his own mind as if free of the bonds of gravity, floating aimlessly, until he wills otherwise. In an instant, a world is formed, coming into being beneath the reaper's feet, allowing him to stand. the sky of stars disappear and are replaced with a bright sun, a deep blue marking the atmosphere and clouds forming all around. Life sprouts from the ground as if hundreds of years are passing by in seconds, and finally, it is all complete. But something is missing. Grim holds his hand out as if he is working with a holographic interface. A being rises from the ground before him, and he walks around it, making changes to it. When he is satisfied with the creature, he sends it off. As if from nothing, more of these creatures appear, organics, like Grim's master and the others he had come to know.

"Now I will allow them to do as organics do... their path is their own. I will observe them, how they grow, how they develop. I will observe them from conception to death, from creation, to end. Something has to tell me what makes them different from machines... something has to tell me what I can do to be like them. If I do this, I am sure it will lead me to the answers I seek... This is what I must do. I know it. Now, I must let them show me the answers... they must, for that is their purpose."

Project Wisdom - Sixty Percent

"These organics act as I already know them to act. They began as one but they grow independance. They split away from one another, and form their own groups... factions. They gain different beliefs. Religion, politics, anything can set them against one another. And these foolish ideas... they cause death. Organics kill each other, for resources, for territory, and even to spread their beliefs. Believing that one people or another are not worthy of living because of what they look like, how they think, how they live... I, am a machine. I do not understand these things. I believe what I am programmed to believe. I kill who I am programmed to kill. If I am programmed to follow the orders of an individual, then their beliefs become my beliefs. I do not decide for myself what I believe. I am not given that freedom. I do not even understand what it would require to have such freedom. Without leadership, how would I decide what it is I believe in. I know what I would have to do. I would have to assess all possibilities and decide which set of beliefs are the most logical. Is that wrong? Is that not an advantage? What is it that these organics feel. What influences them beyond those around them? What is it that makes an organic believe something even when there is no logic behind it. What is it that makes an organic fight for a cause, when the cause is senseless. Is this truly a flaw? How is it that they are able to hold onto a belief so dearly, when the consequence for such actions are so dire. Organics are so confusing to me, but perhaps this is what I must understand. What is it that they feel. How can I become capable of feeling these things. There is something they hold... something beyond logic, beyond calculations. I must build more world. Use more organics. I must whipe the slate clean. I must be sure this event occurs within all organics. Even history and current events will tell me it is true. But I must go through the steps on my own. I must experience it all. I am done with this world... I will remove it to make way for those to come. There must always be an end." With a wave of the droid's hand, the entirety of the world before him fades to dust, as if burnt away by the heat of a sun. More worlds take its place. Many different places on which he creates many different organic beings. Life begins again, the first only a memory swept away by progress.

Project Wisdom - Ninety Percent

The droid looks at the worlds he has created. They are all different. Some advanced thousands of years and had come into contact with one another. Wars between organics of the same species, and wars between different worlds had both happened in all his simulations. It was an obvious thing, something organics always did. They fought. They fought over stupid things. But was that the message? No... He knew he needed a closer look. He could not find singular wisdom watching over so many organics at once like a commander over an army. He needed to see how organics worked... he chose a lesser developed world, and in an instant he was on the surface. He was in a forest, with dense foliage, the sun nearly blocked out by the leaves above, but still the area was bright. Before him stood a child. The child did not notice him there. He could not, he was an invisible entity on this world. A ghost watching over these people. Trying to understand them. The child seemed happy. He was playing, and was soon joined by two more children. Grim watched them play, his hand shaking gently as the metal fingers curled up into a ball.

"What is it that you have that I do not. How is it that you feel these things that I cannot even begin to comprehend. What creates happiness within you. What makes you laugh... what makes you play. Why is it you enjoy yourself so much. Where is the answer that I have been seeking!? What is it I am supposed to find!? What knowledge am I expected to gain here!? Why... why can I not be like you!? What makes you so different from me!? Am I not worthy!? Is being created by organics as a tool, being made of metal and powered by energy from a battery making me lesser than you!? Is it your skin? Your lungs? Is it the heart beating in your chest? Where are the answers!?"

Grim goes on, yelling at the child. It's against logic... it's against his calculations. The child cannot hear him, but he must keep yelling... something demands it of him. Was this programmed into him? He feels an influence, something he wants to get rid of, something that makes him yell like this. He suddenly stops, watching as the child picks a flower from the ground, and brings it to one of the other children, a girl. They are just children, but nonetheless they are sharing a moment. Grim watches them in silence as the girl accepts the flower, and gives the boy a kiss on the cheek. Grim stares at the two, confused, even though he has known organics to be like this always. He watches as the two take one another's hand and run off together to join the other children. He raises a hand and time stops. Without saying a word, he swipes his hand to the side, and time flows on like the fast forwarding of a video. It returns to normal speed again, as he stands before the same two children, now older but not adults yet. They are together still, sharing their time together. Time moves again, and the two are adults. Grim stands at their wedding ceremony, watching as they stand together so... happy. Time moves on again and he finds himself looking at a child, the child of the two. Once more time moves and the two are elderly, clearly in the final years of their lives.

"Love. Another organic emotion. A bond that can last a lifetime... a bond, that is truly unknown to all. Something that is created and destroyed by nothing."

He holds his hand up and thinks for a moment, before he seemingly moves the world, bringing him to another location. Here he sees a man in a vehicle. He's driving it quickly, much quicker than normal speed. He isn't going anywhere specific, but rather simply driving fast down a clear road... a race track? The man is smiling, and from time to time as he goes on he yells out, cheering at the excitement he is experiencing.

Again the scene shifts, and Grim sees a casket. The body of a man dressed in a military uniform lying inside, lifeless. A group of organics stand around, all of them crying, family of the deceased soldier. One lays forward with their arms over the casket, the loudest and strongest reaction of them all as tears stream down her face. Grim simply watches, before he shifts the scene once more.

He finds a group of friends in a cantina. They share drinks, talking, laughing, having fun. They seem worried about nothing. They are enjoying themselves without fulfillment. They are not achieving anything. They are not tied to programming, based on missions, goals and loyalty. Yet they are enjoying everything. The organics before him have no problems.

Grim steps back, and all the scenes come together. The old couple, living happily together in their final years. The racer, living dangerously for the thrill and rush of it all. The soldier, and the family that grieves for him. The friends who enjoy themselves even without having accomplished anything important, without having completed any goals.

Grim just stares at the four scenes. Another influence comes over him, as if he has been programmed to respond to... something. He doesn't know what it is though, and because of this, he does not know how to respond. So he goes on staring... trying to understand what this is.

"Here within my own mind, I have created and destroyed worlds as I desire. I have seen worlds annihilated quicker than it takes an organic heart to beat once. Their denizens fading into nothing but a memory without so much as a single word. Entire systems born and raised in an instant. Yet through it all, I have been devoid of emotion, of empathy. I... have... felt... NOTHING. Millions, BILLIONS of lives wasted. Destroyed for no good reason, by each other, by themselves, by me."

Grim swipes everything away, and like a movie ending, he stands before the children again, watching them play.

"All those before you... all those that will come after. But here you are. Individual children... So many lives thrown away to find what I have been looking for. So many people remove from existence. Had they all loved life as you do? Had each of them loved others... had they all enjoyed something in their lives. Had they all lived their lives day after day without programming... until they were terminated."

He goes silent as he thinks about it all, before repeating the question.

"Had they all loved life... as you do?"

Grim turns away for a moment. "I do not have much time... only now have I found it. I must study it more. I must understand it more. I am starting to understand at last. But I have to test more things to be certain. There is no point in leaving here without knowing entirely that I have found what it was I was sent here to find. Perhaps I too can love life... even if my creators, and other organics do not consider me alive. That does not mean I don't have a life to live... a life to cherish. My own life, my individuality. I am..." He starts to say something, but goes silent, before simply repeating himself. "... I am."

If Grim's face was capable of expression he would most certainly be smiling. "I have a thousand years yet to live out here. I may as well experiment some more. Knowledge is power as the organics say. If I study I can be more useful to my mistress. After all, I wouldn't want to wake and tell her that I didn't even learn some textbook knowledge in here. She would certainly be disappointed.

Project Wisdom - Complete