nexus_crossings | Ghosts in the Machine

There’s a young woman reading through one of the pamphlets in the plaza. She’s dressed head to toe in a rather odd black garment like a padded wetsuit - it looks like it’s all one piece, soft, elastic and form-fitting. Her hair’s a little disheveled and she has a frown of concentration as she reads, but her location doesn’t seem to worry her.

As far as she’s concerned, it’s obvious where she is. The last few weeks have been nothing but tests and interviews and assessment exercises of one form or another. More than a few have taken place using increasingly sophisticated simulation tech. This is just another program, and presumably somewhere above is the AI overseeing her progress.

Still, this is definitely a new one.

“Who comes up with these scenarios?” she wonders aloud in amusement. Then shoots a look at the tiny silver robot floating at a cautious distance. “No offense meant- and that wasn’t my question, sorry.” The Ghost bobs noncommittally, and she looks around, taking in the strange mix of people and aliens, the unrealistic architecture. “So does it matter what I ask?” The answer is murmured quietly, but presumably boils down to ‘no’. She rolls her shoulders and shifts on her feet, making thoughtful sounds for a minute. She really wants to ask something good. Insightful. Practical. Soldierly.

“Is there something around here you really need weapons for?” She had two when she started here - not to mention the ridiculous armor. The assisting ‘Ghost’ AI removed them for her, but that still leaves the question of why this simulation included them...

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Bryn keeps quiet and watches closely when Dia points out the bench. She's not entirely sure what to expect... but she's definitely not disappointed. There's a big grin on her face as she watches the weighty stone be uprooted by invisible hands. She turns to dart little glances between the demonstration and Dia herself, following the connection between motion and manipulation with delight. So effortless!

"Are you kidding? That was amazing!" Admittedly, her enthusiasm fades a bit when she remembers that this may just be a computer testing her reaction to such phenomena. too bad. "So are you a sort of... monk then? Do you need implants to help- to enhance your abilities?" Talk like a professional, Bryn, the computer is watching.

Indeed. Even older, Dia's connection to the force is still quite strong. Made stronger by the fact that she's learned to let it flow through her, rather than (heh) force it to do what she wants.

"Hm. I suppose that'd be a pretty apt description." Dia muses aloud, "I don't really fit in with either of the two orders any longer. The cybernetics I possess do nothing to enhance my abilities, however. The medical technology in my reality is... wildly varying depending on where in the Galaxy you happen to be. Frankly, mechanical limbs are just cheaper, as well."

"You mean you've had whole limbs replaced?" Bryn gives her a startled look, which turns quite thoughtful. "I'm... guessing your work is a lot more exciting than monks back on Earth. At least I'm pretty sure meditation and gardening aren't that dangerous."

The older woman shifts her weight, subtly standing with a bit more weight on her right leg than her left, so she can stick the can under the crook of her right arm while raising her left and rolling the loose sleeve down so it hangs at her elbow.

Admittedly, it's excellent work, but her left arm is entirely mechanical, the black leather glove she's wearing hides her hand, but anyone can plainly see it's artificial, with some kind of dark black plastic-like protective shell. And the way her elbow looks, the replacement likely goes all the way up to at least her bicep, if not further.

This is, we should note, different due to the fact that Dia's been catapulted forward into a possible future version of herself. Normally, it's her hands and about half of both of her forearms.

She takes the cane again and resumes leaning on it once more. "To say I've lead an exciting life is putting it mildly, to be utterly honest."

Her eyes widen at the extent of those prosthetics - sure, they have the technology, but young Brynn has rarely encountered anyone who needed it before.

"It sure looks like it. Is it all right if I ask- I don't want to be rude if it's a delicate subject or anything, but... what happened? A crash?" Either way, it looks like she's more than a little impressed at how tough Dia must be, and the respect in her voice matches it.

It's not every day you meet a badass veteran telekinetic space nun. Not even in the Golden Age.

There's a frown and thoughtful expression as she debates how exactly to explain it. Sure, this is the Nexus, but Bryn seems relatively new, even if her droid seems distinctly familiar (Dia still suspects it's just another of the same model, on that note).

"I used to be an assassin." She explains after a moment. "Trained by my Master in the ways of the Sith, and how to apply them to raiding ancient Sith temples, and assassinating rivals discreetly. I was... replaced. And my rather determined," implied 'psychotic' goes here, "Replacement declared herself my rival, and deemed me unworthy to live because I had failed, even if I survived."

"Killing her came at a cost." As with most things. "I was lucky to survive it, the Force was with me, that day. Even if there are still times I don't understand why."

It's unfortunate she won't remember most of this when she reverts to her normal self, but them's the breaks.

It's something out of an old-school story: deadly super-powered assassins dueling in the name of personal betrayal and dark ideologies. Bryn's riveted, even if she winces at the ending. At least, the death of the rival. It's one thing to cheer at the villain's downfall when it's just a story: knowing it was a real person puts a dampener on things.

"I guess she didn't give you much choice, huh?" Yes, Dia just said she was an assassin - a former one, and Bryn wants to think well of her right now. Besides, it's not an unreasonable assumption. "But... what was it all for? The raids and assassinations, I mean. It sounds like you spent most of your time fighting other, uh, Sith. Was that supposed to be the point?"

"Not really, no. In simpler terms, she was more a bodyguard than an assassin like I was. Strong, gifted with a saber and the Force. Her only real failing was the fact that she tended not to think actions through, and she let her emotions rule her, rather than guide her." The difference is distinct, especially with the way Dia phrases it. She's been trained and learned how to compartmentalize her passions and rage. Use them and unleash them when needed and necessary.

Unlike, say, how some Sith are more like emotional explosives waiting for an excuse to go off. "She was headstrong, and determined to prove a twisted sort of honor in killing her Master's former, yet determined to survive apprentice." Dia's also leaving out the fact that she threatened to kill said Master in an ugly and painful fashion, but her older self has mellowed some as the years have supposedly gone by.

"As for what it was all for. The raids were because he was interested in the History of the Sith. Looking for new ways to adapt old ideas, and for the same goal as the assassinations: Good old fashioned bloody power games." Oh, that's a disgusted face she makes, and she spits out the words 'power games' like they're a pair of swear words like the one that usually starts with 'F' in its amazingly infinite variations. "Without the Emperor to keep them in line, the bloody Sith council turned into a political starship wreck. Everyone trying to out maneuver everyone else without making it obvious who's doing what." She gestures emphatically with her right hand to add to her point and sighs. "Which more or less turns it into a bloody mess with no real sense of progress."

Beat.

"Bunch of bloody idiots. The lot of them."

Bryn nods more sagely than she probably has a right to. She's self-aware enough to consider that some of what Dia says of the former rival might apply to her, and yet the idea of being so bent on murder is too foreign, makes the comparison a brief and hazy one.

"I suppose that's what happens when you spend all your time looking at the past," she muses instead. "You just end up recycling the same bad ideas over and over. If it's any consolation, our people used to do a lot of that, too. They probably thought they were doing the right thing, but when you look back it all just seems like a waste. You need something worthwhile to reach for."

Ghosts in the Machine

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'Veteran Telekinetic Space Nun'. I'll have to remember that one.

Didn't quite manage to slip a 'bionic' in there

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