Log:Explorer's Guild: The Missing Linguist

The Missing Linguist

OOC Date: November 01, 2021
Location: Explorer's Outpost, Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Xavier Harcourt GM/Dr. Rharo, Netep Muri, Nerys Greystorm, Explorer's Guild

The desk that dominates the center of the Explorer's Outpost is, itself, being dominated by the blue glow of a three dimensional holoprojection. An intricate logo is slowly spinning around and around just slow enough to be mind-numbing. The calligraphic font that spells out 'Great Library of Empress Teta' morphs fluidly into the Mon Cal language then back to Basic. Then to Bothese. Then to Basic. Then to...

Every once in a while, as the projection shifts and distorts with random surges of static, a pre-recording would play, echoing in the Outpost's main room.

"Thank you for your patience. The faculty member you are trying to reach is with another academic and will be with you momentarily for your arranged meeting. We ask that you stay on the line. Your call is important to us."

At first the recording sounded sincere.

It's been twenty minutes.

It's starting to take on an almost mocking tone.

Nerys, who had arrived at the outpost not long before the call was set to begin, waited patiently at a crate she'd pulled over to sit on. Her ID10 and a J9 droid were milling around near her, talking amongst themselves, as Nerys flipped through the pages of something or another on her datapad. If she was bothered by the wait, there was no indication of it. Perhaps she had simply become accustomed to academia's way of doing things. Perhaps that was the reason for the datapad. Giving herself something to do to pass the time.

Ka-THUNK Ka-THUNK Ka-THUNK Ka-thukukukukukukukkkkkk....

"Frink," Netep grumps quietly under breath as her fourth 'new' way to pass the time in the past seventeen minutes catches a wonked spin on its richochet off her hefty 'emergency' hooch flask standing proudly across the command station (propped by a paperweight) and goes bounce-rolling across the room, well beyond reach. Muri COULD exit her chair and retrieve the little bouncy Cantonica globe, it wouldn't take much effort, but...

She takes to an idle spin, instead. "Hope this Dr Olen isn't as stuffy as they come - I can handle mid-sized stick-u-the-arse but s'headache juuust isn't gonna humor the full-sized model."

Spin Spin

"S'not like other solutions have arisen though, so..."

Sigh

The spin cycle slows and Muri finds herself staring once more at the rotating projection. She reaches up to muss her hair with a scratch but halts once those fingers feel and are reminded of the meticulous wash'n'comb job done to those midnight curls earlier. Her jacket - a play on 'powersuit' - is likewise clean and as crisp and starched as a garment in the colorfully woven wool style of the Ibhann'I could possibly support. Which isn't much, but...against the red blouse worn beneath and the white pants....s'pretty sharp.

"...your patience. The faculty member you are trying to reach is with another academic and will be with you momentarily for your---"

The logo snaps into the void and the blue light of the holoprojection grows brighter to display a figure's visage from the waist up. She is a severe-looking Balosar woman: hooked-nosed and unimpressed. Her dark brown hair is pulled back so tightly in a bun that it provides a rather painful looking facelift.

"Miss Muri?" The woman glowered over the rim of her tortoiseshell glasses; the beaded chain connected at either side dangling on either side of her face. "I am Dr. Rharo Olen, Co-Chair of the Tetan Library Linguistics Department."

Rharo gives the weight of her title proper time to squat before she looks down at her notes as if the nature of the meeting has not even been written to her short term memory. "I understand you have been enthusiastically inquiring about a runic text you have come across?" Judging by her tone, Dr. Olan regards enthusiastic inquiries the same way she regards road construction on a weekend morning.

As this was not her call, as it were, Nerys did not respond when the academic came on the line. She did, however, put away her datapad, which was something, surely. Nor did she remove her helmet, as she had not bothered to dress for the job she wanted, she dressed for the job she had. Which, one supposed, was also the job she wanted, so she wasn't in the market to impress anyone. Both the ID10 droid and the J9 also looked towards the holoprojector.

"OH well," Netep chuffs a soft note of laughter that toes the thin line between chuckle and scoff, "'Enthusiastic' might be bit strong of a word, s'more like..."

Something in the Balosar's unamused glower and tone - all the somethings, really - gives 'Miss Muri' pause and she reconsiders her manner of approach.

"...neveryoumind." A flutter of fingers waves off the thought and Muri straightens up her spine to pitch sliiiightly forward, palms lain flat on the desktop. "Being as you have been in this field of study long enough to hold such a prestigious position, I've no doubt you can empathize with the love of knowledge...even when it's for naught but sake of knowledge? I've a curious brain and a well-traveled ear and eye, Dr Rharo Olen, and when I come across language patterns I do not recognize, as has happened a time or three, and cannot puzzle them out on my own I *DO* petition those of higher brainpower and /archival/ access."

An easy smile stretches across those tawny lips, testing the waters. "The Muri clan is a proud one, but not so proud as to refuse help when it's very obviously needed."

The light indigo hue of the projection makes it difficult to tell what colour the Doctor's eyes are, but they are certainly dark and unmoved by the smoke going straight up her posterior. "Mmm hmmm."

The tight-bunned head dips down to scribble something in her notes, taking just a bit longer than is necessary. And then taking a little longer after that. Finally, the fancy fountain pen rests upon the table once more and she looks up. "As you know, the information you seek is not in any form accessible to the public. Nor do are you registered as a trusted researcher privvy to the records of our vast and well-protected archives."

It is only now that Dr. Olan appears to recognize there is something else in the room; steely gaze shifting over towards Nerys. A stare-down ensues. A stalemate. A single nod of acknowledgement to the silent woman then it is back to Miss Muri.

"I cannot confirm or deny that the information your -- ah ha -- proud clan seeks is in our records. We simply do not have the manpower to chase every wild gander that crosses our path. We are /quite/ prestigious, as you know."

When the echo of her tooting of her own horn dies down, Rharo continues. "However, there is a member of our faculty that may be willing to assist you. But I'm afraid he may be unable to."

Nerys, who did not much bother with the stare down, quite likely because it was impossible to stare when one could not see ones eyes, set the datapad down on the crate she had settled on, lifting her hands to remove her helmet. There was nothing special beneath, only Nerys, hair braided, and somehow entirely without helmet head. Her tone was polite, and imminently upper crust, the tone of her accent marking her as one of the few non-ground dwelling, knuckle-dragging inhabitants of Corellia. "Dr. Olen, if it is a registered researcher you are looking for, in order to speed along the process of finding us someone from your faculty to assist in our research, I believe I am registered under Nerys Greystorm, but my records extend quite a few years back, under Nerys Arda. I am certain that our research, should it go forward, will be a benefit to all of us, your own institution not least of all."

"Ahh..." Netep inclines her chin just a hair, brows following suit. "I see my time working for the University of Coruscant's sentientology department did not serve me as well as I'd hope. Praise be th'stars I brought /this/ one along, eh?" With a thumb gesture to Nerys. "Given your archives /are/ very extensive and no doubt detailed, I am sure they do show myself, the Guild, was trusted /enough/ to aid your Library with a very dire situation in its archaic storeroom below ground. Hundred cred says bits o'my dna, along with all others' who bled, is still traceable in some hard-to-reach nook and cranny. Or did your curator fail to mention? He DID ask us to be ..... what was the word...."

She squinches her eyes closed for a long beat, feigning a struggle to draw forth from memory.

"Discreet." One finger goes aloft - the index finger, she's being polite, and wags as if to say 'eureka, i remembered'. "Yes, that's the word..." Mmmmm, words. "That's not to speak of all the other contributions and findings my guild has unearthed for sake of academia," (and private investors) "I'm sure you remember the news that elusive Bimmifly made."

Drop it Muri.

She does...after a good, long stare.

"But I digress. Who is this faculty member and how might we contact him? I can appreciate a kindred soul who isn't bound by the short leash of protocol."

The last sentence and that sentence alone adopts a more /CRISPLY ENUNICATED/ rolling purr of Lorrdian accent, as opposed to her typical Ibhann'I - Omwati bastardized blend of drawl and lilt. To accompany it, a Lorrdian smile...which is to say no smile or any semblance of emotion whatsoever upon her face. Smooth as glass.

Rharo turns her attention to the helmeted figure now revealed, looking Nerys over appraisingly. The name draws no recogniction but that shouldn't be surprising. This woman likely cannot remember her own kids' middle names unless it was written on a peer-reviewed research paper. "Miss Greystorm nee Arda." A half swivel in her chair gives Nerys and Muri a view of Dr. Olen's profile as she types on the terminal next to her. The tickticktick on the screen made louder by her long, clawlike fingernails.

"Ah. Indeed, you are in our records, Miss Greystorm." A swivel to face forward and clasp her hands in front of her. "We thank you for your patronage and continued assistance. While I still cannot grant you access to certain archives, you could try your luck in the upper records. However---"

Muri's dressing down is given ample time to breathe. Far be it for Dr. Olen to stop someone when they are on a roll and there seems to be quite a bit of venom behind some of those words. "Rest assured, Miss Muri, that any dealings you've had with our curator has remained quite discreet. To the extend I am /certain/ I do not know /what/ you are talking about."

Scribble scribble scribble madly in her notes. The pen looks angry even if Dr. Olen is stone-faced. "If you are looking for someone who operates out of protocol, then Dr. Gorth is certainly that. Though /as I was saying/--" each word a dagger pointed at Muri then her tone returns to it's normal flatness when she looks to Nerys "--while he is likely to be able to provide you with more information than could perhaps be found in our archives, Dr. Gorth has been out in the field for many weeks now."

Her posture stiffening, Rharo removes her glasses and lets them rest upon her chest by their chain. "And has not sent an update for quite a few days now."

"That," Nerys offered, her tone casual, and entirely unlike the prissiness of Dr. Rharo, despite the accent, "Should not be a problem at all. We make it our business to find lost things. And your colleague does sound as though he might well be lost. It would certainly be in your interests to assist us in finding him. It would be a terrible smudge on the reputation of the Library to have lost track of one of your faculty." Nerys tipped her head towards Muri, "The Guild has proved both its worth and its discretion."

"Wouldn't be the first wandering scholar to fall prey to their own curiosity." Netep should know! "Like my associate says, we're good at digging. Just give us his last known location and we can pick up the trail from there. More details the merrier, f'course. Such as ship name, habits and pasttimes, favorite foods, anything he might've mentioned 'bout his current project er weird dreams..."

Weird dreams? Muri eyes the bookshelf sideways over yonder, like it's got something to say. Then a slower slide of a glance to the ceiling. That light directly overhead. "Y'know. The usual tidbits that make a person a person."

Dr. Rharo glances between the two women, a look of slight concern fracturing the granite slab that has been her expression so far. Holding up a finger, she rises from her seat and disappears from the projection for a few minutes, leaving her leather, high-backed chair to bobble back and forth before coming to a rest.

When she returns, Rharo settles into her seat with a new datapad in her hand as well as a datachit. Both are set on the desk in front of her with meticulous care. "Dr. Gorth has been on a personal expedition to the planet of Selvaris researching the abandoned ruins of a Yuuzhan Vong deity." She hands waves. "It doesn't matter which one."

Inserting the datachit, the holoprojection flickers away from her and shows the still image of an old Ugnaught with big, thick-lensed glasses and a frizz of wild, white hair. He is smiling toothily with what teeth are remaining. "Dr. Gorth is one of our leads in ancient, lost languages. But he can be quite... ah ha..." That sound again. "Peculiar."

The image changes to that of a planet, clearly Selvaris. There is a marker blinking to show his last know whereabouts. "Selvaris is located in the area known os Wild Space and is quite hostile. Both to sentients and to mechanics. We doubt there are any Yuuzhan Vong in the area, our concern are that looters and scavengers may have picked up on his activity."

"It might matter very much, if that deity happens to be still in worship, and their followers dislike the idea of someone rooting around in their sacred spaces." But Nerys said no more, on that front, as she leaned forward, retrieving her datapad. "We will be glad to accept whatever information you can provide. The more we know, the more likely it will be that we will be able to locate him." Nerys managed not to say anything less diplomatic, like, 'or the remains of him.' That would likely have made the Doctor clutch her pearls. if she were wearing any.

"In my experience, every shrine, every temple, every place of import is not without its share of defense systems to ward off would-be raiders and thieves. Some of these mechanisms are plenty volatile, even after centuries, millenia have passed. Knowing the identity of the resident god miiiiight be worth knowing, if not for deference to the locals then to at least make a more educated guess about what sort of surprises lie in wait for unwary trespassers."

Exchanging a pointed glance with Nerys - cause she's been through much of the same sphinctor-clenching drek - she reaches forward and wakes up the console's call recording system to preserve what details are to follow, just in time to see a little beacon blip into existence on Selvaris.

"Dr. Gorth looks and sounds like a real charmer, Dr Olan. I look forward to picking his brain." Hopefully not off the rocks. "'Wild' space is a beautiful creature, free from the tangled web of politics. S'not my first venture into the little-known territories, but ... ke hyon fhars oblivyn cnous oblivyn, eh?" Speaking of ancient, lost languages. "We'll bring some muscle to ensure it isn't our last."

A tick of her too-thin eyebrows. Clearly Rharo doesn't put much weight into the talk of deities and those who worship them. Then again, she's just a linguist who spends more of her time in her office on these kinds of calls. With a slight smack of her lips, she glances at the datapad she brought with her, putting her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. "Yun-Shuno the Pardoner. Worshiped by the Shamed Ones caste. Thought to be abandoned for at least five decades. Perhaps more." Another click of her lips derisively. "I do not think you have much to worry about there."

Hands clasping together again, they set silently on her desk. "Very well, then. I will send the information we have received from Dr. Gorth up until our last correspondence. I'm afraid the Library cannot provide further manpower to your endeavour, but should you manage to retrieve Dr. Gorth, I am sure you will eventually get the information you need." Dr. Olen grins ever-so-slightly at the word 'eventually.'

"He is certainly a character." Dr. Rharo reaches off-screen. "I believe that concludes our business, ladies. If you will excuse me, I've quite a back log of other inquiries to work through. All the luck to you and yours."

And the holoprojection dies immediately. Click.

"This is why I was told I would never have a career in academia. I couldn't get the stick far enough up my backside to qualify." Nerys, rising from her crate, clipped the helmet of her armor to her hip, "At least we have a lead on where we can start looking. And I can provide a suitable ship for the expedition. Fast enough to get us to where we need to go, with enough firepower to get us out of a jam if we encounter any opposition." Nerys looked towards Bitty, "And we can begin combing the local reports for any words of activity in the area. From this is Gorth or people who might have been on his trail."

Muri laughs a hearty note, slapping the desktop with an open palm. "You said it! Might be some branches sproutin out her mouth if it gets much farther." Punching the 'end record' button with a finger, she streeeetches from her chair and plugs her datapad in to upload. "Hermi's got decently squirrely enough wings on'er to have survived Exegol, but...bit lacking in the firepower department. Lone turret, s'all." She immediately cues up the galactic map and begins scanning the vast expanse of 'wild' territories for the Selvaris system.

"Mm." A little grunt. "Bilbringi...might be worth gettin the scoop of any pirate activity in that system, too." One hand comes up to rub at her eyes. "I'll whisper a sum in the ear of some more suited to violence than I. Won't hurt t'have a few heavy hitters along for the ride, n'case this all goes tits-up. More'n one ship, too."

"Well, I can get you everything from an Aggressor or an Assault Shuttle, to a Blastboat, to a Maurauder Corvette. I think it just depends on how much firepower we want, and how much of a footprint we want to make on the way in. Or we can use the Tai, she's got decent weapons, and a state of the art jammer. And a 2400 isn't likely to raise many eyebrows." Nerys lifted her shoulders, "I'm sure we can figure out a decent complement of ships. And I trust you to get a decent crew together for the expedition. I could toss in a few if they're not off on contract."

"Smaller footprint the better. I'd rather not be seen too terribly long before we can see who's doin' the watching. Small and punchy, maybe somethin' better suited to SAR as a companion, in case 'small and punchy' gets punched. I'm sure something in your 'fleet' will do just fine. Let's take a few days t'plan the logistics, meet back here with our team to review what Dr Olan sends over. IF she sends. So till then..." Muri offers a tiny salute. "Do believe I might hear a pillow calling my name."

Maybe it's her own pillow...maybe not. At this present time, Muri herself doesn't know! The night is young. "'preciate your help with this. Some little mysteries are just too good to put down, once y'start reading."