[b][u]A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away...
The Inner Rim
Givin Domain
Yag'Dhul System
Aboard the [i]Excoriate[/i], a [i]Charnel[/i] class Medical Station[/u][/b]

The planet Yag'Dhul, home to the mathematically gifted Givin, had been an important world in the Clone Wars on the side of the Confederacy, and had experienced several fleet and ground battles which resulted in the destruction of most of its infrastructure. Its populace had been wartorn, and given Yag'Dhul's inhospitable climate that only made a bad situation worse. Thankfully, Astranoma, a non-profit charity organization, had come to the system with sufficient resources to begin providing aid to the Givin people.

Astranoma had come to the system with one [i]Charnel[/i] class Medical Station, equipped to treat 80,000 patients every day, and six [i]Wellspring[/i] class medical carriers which could each comfortably host an additional 5000 patients. Credits had started pouring into the local economy, funding the construction of local MedCenters and Refugee shelters where Givin could find food, rest, and care. The Givin, being a naturally industrious people, had helped greatly in accelerating the establishment of these places by helping to plan and draft their construction, and clerks hired from the populace proved to be almost as efficient as droids in their book-keeping. On a per-capita basis, Astrnoma was helping more people for fewer credits in the Yag'Dhul system than almost anywhere else in the Galaxy.

Not to say that the road had been without its bumps. The Givin were naturally some of the smartest sentient beings in the Galaxy, and their reknown as shipbuilders was great. Spending so much time around the Astranoma vessels gave the Givin plenty of time to examine them in detail, finding strange peculiarities in the process. The [i]Excoriate[/i], by way of example, was some 1212 meters in diameter, nearly twice the length of the [i]Haven[/i] class medical stations it had been designed as a variant of. Yet strangely, the massive station could only treat 80,000 patients at once, which was the same number that could be treated in a [i]Haven[/i] station. By performing elementary (for a Givin) volumetric calculations, it also became apparent that on a basis of volume, less than 30% of the [i]Charnel[/i] class station's space actually held patients. Innocent questioning as to this discrepancy returned the answer that most of the space in the station was used for administration, Bacta manufacturing, various vivarium and life-support module storage, and of course extensive life support functions. However, many Givin being ship-builders and being familiar with the dimensions involved for such areas within ships, could perform additional calculations to determine how much volume they might have taken up in a [i]Haven[/i] class station and compared the figures. All in all, more than 50% of the Station was apparently used for nothing whatsoever.

The Givin who went 'exploring' to investigate the discrepancy had to be dealt with. Of course, aboard a Medical Station, people died all the time - as unfortunate and undesirable as that was. The same unfortunate deaths were rare but not unknown occurrences aboard the [i]Wellspring[/i] carriers for more or less the same reason.

Within the communications hub of the Station, a droid stood atop a holo-platform. Its construction was sleek and skeletal, its eyes glowing with an intelligence that would have shamed the native Givins. Across from it stood the hologram of two more droids. To the left was J9-12B, Astranoma's leading diplomatic spokesperson and envoy, familiar in form to the popular 21B medical droid series, albeit trimmer and with a greater range of motion, along with a spinning ring of modular medical tools suspended at its waist. To the right was CK-24, one of Astranoma's chief administrator droids. They had been designed as an improved variant of a very old, infamous droid series from the era of the Old Republic, thousands of years ago. Very few people today would have been able to identify the protocol droid's ancestry, save perhaps certain droid technicians working for the modern-day Czerka corporation in the Grand Republic of Mandalore.

[i]"Statement: Research Project Firaxis has concluded successfully."[/i] CK-24 said is an even voice. Its vocabulator was perfectly capable of delivering variable intonation, but order to maneuver around the more intricate subtleties of verbal insinuation, each utterance was prefixed with a descriptive noun. [i]"I have pre-approved mass production, and cargo-units are being assembled as we speak. Conservative estimates project that some nine thousand tons will be ready for immediate shipping within the next 120 hours. Addendum: The latest sensitive count in the foster division of our refugee shelters along the inner rim has risen to 741 even after withdrawals. This unexpected windfall ensures that our gift horse shall have convincingly healthy teeth."[/i]

J9-12B spoke next, its own vocabulator producing a monotonous if steady and soothing voice. [i]"I have obtained sufficient information from our external assets to have finished formulating another potential target dossier. The ability of our agents to infiltrate Ziost has been limited, and our information there equally so. From what information they have been able to extract, taken in consideration with information derived from the Letona files, I have determined that it is unlikely the rumors of the True Sith having returned are substantiated. Emperor Palpatine was unable to refine what little evidence his servitors retrieved from the second expedition, but it is unlikely that any Sith, true or otherwise, upon the planet number more than 12. Even the most pessimistic of projections estimate that these upstarts, whomever they are, will either interbreed with local populations or will die out naturally, lacking sufficient numbers to sustain genetic stability across generations."[/i]

"If what you say is true, then the heretics upon Ziost may be left to die according to their own desires unless they should attempt to revive the Sith Order apart from their own number." The skeletal droid uttered in a voice like hissing steam and burning forests. "Now that the status of Ziost has been assessed, we will proceed with the purge as planned. CK-24, you will rendezvous with the station positioned at Umbara and begin the staging phase of Operation: False Positive. Discretion is unimportant; as long as the trail does not ultimately lead back to us, you may dispense with the heretics however you wish."

[i]"Exultation: My processors are overwhelmed with the innumerable ways in which I imagine I may splatter their visceral fluids across the ground. It will be done, and it will be messy."[/i]

"J9-12B, you will take two standard relief group and two Medical stations to the Grand Repulic of Mandalore, along the outskirts of their territory. Extend a formal greeting to their officials and gain admission to their territory. There you will execute Operation: Prune the Garden. You will bring with you the first fruits of Project Firaxis, and work with the Mandalorian government to disseminate it along the outer and inner rims. Utmost discretion to avoid suspicion is to be employed, hence your generous allotment of vessels."

[i]"May I extend of an offer of foster exchanges to their own administration? It would help to deflect suspicion greatly."[/i]

"You may. The unexpected surge along our inner rim shelters will suffice for such a scheme." The droid paused for a moment, almost as if in thought, before responding again. "Only use the weakest along the second meridian. No need to sow prize crop where we shall salt. Send me the dossier on Ziost before you depart. Our next scheduled communique will occur in 864 hours. That is all."

Turning errantly, the skeletal droid stepped off the holo-platform and dismissed the holograms of the other two droids. It marched mechanically through the austere durasteel corridors, stopping at and taking a lift down four levels to factory control. As it emerged from the lift, a battledroid saluted it. "Sir. Assemblies four through seven, and nine through eleven are online. What are your orders?"

"Begin assembly of 25 Constellation Battle Droids and 144 Blackout Assassination Droids. Apply frame modification CZ/FK to their chassis and download file 127.A/3ZP.48 into each. Make sure they are packaged for shipment to the Kashyyyk relief group. Their shipment is priority one."

Kashyyyk, in terms of either Operation: False Positive or Operation: Prune the Garden was utterly irrelevant except perhaps as another dead-end layer of insulation against discovery. Apart from that, the Wookiee homeworld also happened to be where a critical member of the latter scheme was currently whiling away their time...

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[b][u]Kashyyyk[/u][/b]

"...so it won't quite approach the same level of sensitivity as the original limb, but I think you will find the extra lifting power to be favorable." DE-6A said in an amiable sort of voice as it floated next to a Wookiee, lying in an extra-large sized hospital bed while growling in frustration as it tried to move its new prosthetic arm. The neural interface had merged with her body without complication, but the only way she would ever be able to use the new appendage to the same degree as her natural one was if she worked with the neural pathways daily and allow the prosthetic to adapt to her muscle memory. In a surge of effort and with a deep yowl, she managed to force the limb to flail wildly off to the side, where it swept out to crash headlong into the floating surgical droid...had it not been caught deftly by the second wookiee standing just off to DE-6A's side. He barked at the unruly patient, telling her to settle down and not to hurt anybody.

"Yes, curb that enthusiasm slightly for when you've had enough bedrest to walk again!" DE-6A said. "I'll have one of my assistants provide you with a holo on adapting to a new prosthetic and bring you a few toys..."

The bed-laden wookiee looked at the droid apprehensively.

"Tools." DE-6A corrected. "Tools to help speed your recovery as well. Soon you'll have just as much control over the new limb as you had over the original."

"Excuse me sir," an FX-assistant droid said as it rolled up to the bedside. "We've just received a dispatch from the station to be delivered to you immediately. The message says that is is time for you to prune the garden."

"Prune the Garden? Already? Cancel all my appointments for the next sixteen months then, I need to scramble out on the next transport!"

The male wookiee let out a series of yowls and rough howls.

"What do you mean you're coming with me? You don't know what you're getting into!" DE-6A said in a despairing tone. "And it will be dangerous besides! Very dangerous! There will be soldiers and battle droids and Jedi to spare, you don't want anything to do with that mess!"

The wookiee simply folded its arms in response, looking down at DE-6A from above with a mundane expression worn by those who have already made up their minds.

"Oh, fine! Don't say I didn't warn you though!" The surgical droid wailed before turning and hovering towards the exit. "And you, yeah you!" It gestured at the bed-laden wookiee with one of its tool-arms. "Make sure to drink plenty of fluids!"

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[b][u]Jaxus System[/u][/b]

Two [i]Wellspring[/i] class Medical Carriers emerged from hyperspace a healthy distance away from the gravitational interdiction range of the planet Jaxus, for which the system was named. Not wanting to make any of local vessels nervous, both immediately activated their transponder signals. AN7-12B waited patiently for some form of traffic authority to contact the leading vessel, content to remain firmly in place until then. The Ishkar Syndicate may have been a collection of thugs, but they were organized thugs, and the medical droid was determined to present as much of a non-threatening posture as possible to start things off.