A tall, rusty red protocol droid had planted itself in front of a library terminal in a crowded portion of Coruscant’s merchant quarter. It had been downloading everything from starcharts and trading lanes to children’s history texts during the past hour or so it had been standing there. The droid seemed to be abuzz with excitement, bringing up file after file and after quickly scanning each one downloaded it into it’s memory banks. People walking by didn’t give it a second look, thinking some rich noble wanted himself his own personal library or something. After all, it was only a protocol droid. A few glances were shot it’s way due to the archaic nature of it’s design but since no one could recognize a droid built from parts that were over 3,000 years outdated it was overlooked as they rushed in their evening commute.

Of course, it had also been about an hour since his automated shuttle from M4-78 had crashed directly into an apartment complex. The droid wasn’t entirely sure of any casualties and did not have any interest in finding out. It had left the scene immediately to look for information and found it.

The protocol droid had stopped in its exhaustive search. Every scrap of information that would bring its mother planet up to date on the galaxy had been downloaded but with nothing mentioning the current location of the Sith. In milliseconds its droid brain calculated the best method to collect this information was to ask an official about the planets currently under Sith control. The tall droid immediately directed itself towards a spaceport.

“The What Empire?” The short secretary behind the desk looked up at the droid with a raised eyebrow.

“Repetiton: This unit is searching for the Sith Empire and would like to know what systems they currently occupy.”

The woman stared at it for a few seconds and then sighed. “Listen, I don’t know who sent you on this wild goose chase but there is no ‘Sith Empire’. The most you’re going to find is a couple rumors in the local cantina of people finding explorers dead from lightsaber wounds, or burnt to death by God-knows-what.”

“Query: Where would this cantina be located? If it is a suitable source of information it may suit this units needs.”

She placed her fingers over the bridge of her nose, muttering something about stubborn droids and pointing towards a large neon sign with a good sized crowd outside smoking and talking. The droid immediately turned and headed directly into the cantina.

A quick scan of the cantina showed nothing out of the ordinary; just the usual collection of lowlifes from around the galaxy. Iridonians, Humans, Trandoshans, all gathered for a variety of reasons. After making a quick scan of the crowd and documenting any races not yet in his databanks, the droid made it’s way through the crowd to the bartender who had been staring at the droid since it walked in.

“We don’t serve droids.” The heavyset bartender said, spitting as he said ‘droids’ in disgust. The droid did not seem to notice or care.

“Query: This unit requires information on the Sith. If you have any, or are capable of pointing this unit in the direction of...”

“I don’t think you heard me. We. Don’t. Serve. Droids.” And with those words the bartender spat on the chest plate of the droid, electing a chuckle from some of the nearby inebriated patrons.

“Resignation: This unit does not wish to, but will take great satisfaction in convincing you otherwise.” With movements almost undetectable by the human eye, or at least as the drunk patrons nearby will later describe the scene, the droid lifted a glass from the bar and heaved it above the bartender’s head shattering several bottle and pouring their contents on the man. A panel then released itself from the calf portion of the droid’s leg revealing a blaster rifle that was taken by the droid and leveled at the once-arrogant bartender.

“Delighted Explanation: If you are not aware, one shot from this unit’s blaster will ignite you, leaving you to a very painful death by flame. This unit will now repeat it’s question: Where might information on the Sith be located?”
The bartender, now wide-eyed with his hands up in the air stammered for a bit and then blurted out his response.

“I-I know this g-guy! Just don’t shoot man!” The bartender managed to stammer a few directions and then continued to beg it not to shoot. After recording the directions for later reference the droid lowered it’s rifle and holstered it back in its hidden compartment.

“Threatening Remark: This unit is referred to as K1-52. If this unit finds your directions to be incorrect this establishment will need to employ a new bartender.” K1-52 proceeded to replay the directions and exit the cantina.

The bartender smirked. He had pressed the emergency button, alerting the nearest police patrol to come investigate. And he knew exactly where they’d find the droid too.

Twizzler sat in some cantina. He couldn’t even remember what world he was on anymore. Too much traveling mixed with too much drinking often resulted in a little memory loss. However no matter how drunk Twizzler got his reflexes were still good and his observation still peaked. It was one downside of being a former Sith Assassin. The force was always whispering to you and you were constantly paranoid. Although Twizzler didn’t mind, those things had kept him alive over the years, that and his amazing skills with a lightsaber and the ability not to be seen. Even now he sat in the shadows of the cantina feeding the darkness with the force to completely shield his body from others eyes. Giving him the advantage to see, but not be seen.

It seemed that that advantage was about to pay off. A droid had just looked back and by the looks of it the thing was hostile. Within a minute that suspicion was confirmed with the pulling of a rifle. Interesting, Twizzler thought. This droid seeks information on the Sith. Wonder why. When the droid left Twizzler stood. Picking up his cup of lomin ale Twizzler took a huge gulp finishing the alcohol that was still within. Turning toward the door he rushed off toward the door. He made it out with only a stumble or two. Checking both sides his eyes fell on the metallic back of the droid. Twizzler contemplated following it to see what it did, but thought better of it. Better to engage it now, that way he didn’t get too far away from the Cantina if the droid didn’t want help.

Coming up along side the door Twizzler spoke. “I understand that your looking for information on the Sith.” The words came out as a whisper so that no other passerbys would hear him. At least that was the intent.

An alarm shreiked in the background of the Coruscant enforcement unit 189. the leader, a human named Jau, looked at the red alarm, which was activating all the inactive droids behind him. "damn" Jau muttered before grabbing his blaster and his cap. turning the holoscreens on he seen the local cantina, zooming in on the droid and the human, uploading all details of them. "come on droids!!!" Jau shouted before running out the door towards the cantina.

"Interested Reply: Why yes, this unit is looking for information regarding the Sith."
K1-52 turned to face the man who was clearly intoxicated. It made a scan of the organic revealing a few mundane items and what could be a lightsaber. It then logged this man in it's memory banks for future reference.

"Concerned Interjection: However, there is some activity on the local police bands and this unit suggests seeking a proper hiding place."

K1 then began to quickly move towards an alley and into a nearby building stairwell, looking back to make sure the man was following him.

Jau ran round the corner where the bounty hunter and the human had been. noticing a form of danger, he put his hand backwards to halt the rest of the group. the second in command, a human named Hain, stepped forwards. "what do we do sir?" Hain asked his commander, who was in a trance. "come out with your hands up! you are to be detained to a nearby cell where our superiors will meet you!" Jau shouted, keeping his blast pistol handy

The waitress passed by her boss as another droid entered the cantina. She was an older woman, one of those down-on-luck types that worked this job and three others to support an oversized family. Her worn face twisted into a look of exasperation. I'm not running this one out, she thought to herself. Vas doesn't want to serve droids, let him take care of it. Vas was her boss, the grizzled man standing behind the bar. Not only did he work her twice as hard as he should have for the money she made, that guy had written the book for sexual harassment. If he had it his way, she'd be dancing around a pole right now. Luckily, the owners had stepped in and put an end to that idea. But she definitely didn't like him.

She moved past the droid to serve another customer. The cantina was fairly large, and this one sat back in the corner usually. As she was moving, she heard a commotion in the back. Great, she thought. Another gambler trying to beat Cendar. She shook her head. Probably be a mess to clean up later.

***

"Five hundred." The dealer sat to the side, glancing back and forth between the two players. One was an average-size man, his semi-rough face sporting a dark moustache. His vest barely concealed a hold-out blaster, and he didn't even try to hide the DL-44 at his side. He was nervous, though. Twitchy, he thought.

The other man rolled a credit chip down the fingers of an oversized left hand. He was large, abnormally large, but he was a regular. The dealer knew this guy well, and he knew that the newcomer was testing his patience.

"Five hundred," repeated Cendar Robutha. "Must be a peach of a hand." His twisted face hinted at a smile. Just a hint, though. Of course, it was hard for a face that messed up to form any expression. Cendar held the chip up, then scratched what used to be his eyebrow with his other hand. And he sat there.

The newcomer was getting more nervous by the second. Stang, thought the dealer. How the heck did this guy ever win a Sabaac match? The two were playing a variation on normal Sabaac called five-card stud. Interesting variety. Apparently it was a Kuat thing. Both players were from there originally.

"Come on, Robutha, are you in or out?" The newcomer was making a big mistake. He was getting frustrated at Cendar's calm demeanor. The dealer scooted his chair back from the card table an inch or two. No sense getting the mess on him.

"Why, Ed Bailey. You seem nervous. Well, I must be deranged, but I guess I'll have to call. Straight flush," Cendar finished as he spread his cards.

The newcomer rose quickly, his chair falling to the floor. "That's it. Take your money and get out, cause I'm tired of listening to your mouth."

Cendar sat back in his seat and tapped the blaster by his side. "Why, Ed Bailey. We cross?"

Ed's eyes narrowed. "That blaster don't scare me. Cause without that blaster, you're nothin' but a kriffing cyborg."

Cendar managed a bit more of a smile. The dealer got up and moved back a few feet. Bailey was already dead - he just didn't know it yet. "Why, Ed. Does this mean we're not friends anymore? 'Cause if I thought we weren't friends," he put on his most patronizing tone, "I just don't think I could bear it."

Ed went for his blaster, but Cendar was faster. Without even getting up, Cendar had drawn and had the weapon trained on Bailey's chest before Bailey's gun even got clear. Ed wisely left it where it was. Cendar smiled a bit more, but he got a cold look in his eyes. The dealer had seen that look before. He left the room.

Several patrons were staring by now, but the opponents took no notice of them. Cendar relaxed his grip, spun the weapon, and placed it on the table with the butt facing Bailey. "There. Now we can be friends again."

Bailey drew his weapon, but Cendar was once again too quick. A vibroblade slid out of his sleeve and into his hand as he rose and stepped around the table. Before Bailey had a chance to get a shot off, he felt the cold steel digging into his gut, slicing organs and blood vessels. The blade slid down, cutting the man's stomache wide open. Bailey made a gurgling sound and dropped his blaster right before Cendar shoved him and he fell like a ton of duracrete.

Cendar stared for a moment, then turned and swept the money from the table into a bag. He nodded to the dealer, who had re-entered the room, and strode towards the bar. Chalk one more mark down, he thought to himself. He'd been hired to kill Bailey by some scoundrel that had gotten cheated by the gambler. Hard to believe that Bailey had had the ability to cheat anyone. His Sabaac face was worse than a Wookiee's breath. 'Course, it didn't matter now. A dead man wasn't gonna cheat anyone. And Cendar wanted another drink.

That was when the droid pulled the blaster. Cendar rolled his good eye and shook his head. He saw the others approach the droid, and he saw the look in the bartender's eye. Vas had set off the alarm. Emperor take that man, he thought. He strode quickly to the bar, towering over everyone present, including Vas.

"I don't think we need any trouble now, do we?" he asked Vas, who stared at him. "Do we?" He added a threatening tone that time.

"Too, late you piece of crap cyborg. You and the droid are both in trouble this time. I saw what you did back there."

Cendar heard the approaching shouts of the police force. "The Emperor take you, Vas!" He turned to the droid. "Unless you want to be made into scrap metal, I suggest we take this party elsewhere. Your friend can come along. But we need to go now." While Cendar knew that he could hold off the police force for a bit, he wasn't sure about the rest. Even so, as he spoke he removed a strange-looking device from his belt and began attaching it to a mount on his right forearm. Few would recognize the rapid-fire blaster unless they were nearly one-hundred years old, for the last time it was used was by super battle droids of the CIS. But it was effective, and fit well onto his mechanical arm.

The droid replied with his strange statement, and Cendar followed him, checking over his shoulder until they were out of sight. As they moved quickly, he finished attaching his weapon and began prepping his personal shield. He had heard that the droid was looking for Sith. Well, if it was a job, why not?

Then he heard the police guy yell. Cendar chuckled. Kriffing Sithspawn, he thought, then stepped out. His massive size would check anyone, and it did this policeman. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" he asked.

"Aside: This unit is not properly equipped for prolonged combat, but is adequately equipped to determine a means of escape."

K1-52 stepped out of the line of sight and his head eerily spun a full 360 degrees. After completing his scan of the building his head returned to it's original position.

"Statement: A preliminary scan of this building shows it to be a residential complex. This particular stairwell leads to the roof where a means of escape may be acquired through adjacent buildings. However, if you wish for a more discrete exit, there is a sewer access located in the opposite alleyway. This unit's suggestion would be to cause a distraction to lead the pursuers in another direction."

K1 relayed this to the cyborg in low tones so the police officer could hear only murmurs. As he was doing this he made a scan of the man's cybernetic implants and logged them for further reference.

"Suggestion: It seems you are properly equipped to cause such a distraction. May this unit suggest using the stairwell and destroying it afterwards?"

Jau looked at Cendar & K1. "That droid is about to become scrap, so, if you want to keep your head, get lost!" Jau shouted before releasing several rounds of blaster fire at K1, hitting many walls in his firing path.

(OOC: Please delete.)