Saving the Galaxy with Data Security and AMA: Part 1 (Patreon)

This story is mostly something I dreamed up when stoked on good Star Wars fanfics, and heavily inspired by 'How a Romance Novel Saved the Galaxy' and 'Sith Lord Swell.' Enjoy!

---SW---

I peered at the terminal of my workstation, my brow furrowing as I stared at the screen. “This can’t be right.” I muttered, smacking the tower connected to my station. “This… what?”

I’d been… surprised to wake up after dying. I’d been more surprised when I realized I was being born, and that my new parents had pink skin. Like, not ruddy skin, literally red-pink.

It had been pretty obvious I was in a sci-fi setting early on in life, what with the screens everywhere and the starship we took a trip on when I was two. The odd man in the brown robes carrying a laser sword had cinched it.Star Wars. One of the best (Wookies! The Force! Droids, Bacta, Blaster, yes! Thank you Lucas!) worst (Yuuzhan Vong, Palpatine, Racism, Death Stars, Jar Jar! No thank you, Lucas!) and most fanfic heavy settings out there. I couldn’t even be too certain which canon I was in! As soon as I was old enough to get access to a computer without my parents hovering around, I took a look at the Holonet, trying to figure out how long I had before canon. The Jedi seeker (which told me I was either before the Clone Wars or long after it) told my parents I had a small gift, but not needing more training, so I wasn’t going to end up a Jedi. Good news, I wasn’t going to get stabbed by broody-mc-emo Anakin when he went off the deep end. Bad news, I would have to work to actually change things.

It actually took me two weeks of data mining to find anything which could give me some context for my situation. Finally, I found a fluff piece on Grandmaster Yoda, the oldest Jedi. Namely, some Senator with an over-inflated ego inviting him to their senatorial party for his 820th birthday party. He declined.

The party had been held only four months before I found the story. I was nearly fifty years ahead of the Clone Wars. I was probably older than Obi-Wan, certainly older than a lot of the Council, and would be in my late fifties before any parts of canon I could effect showed up.

Not going to happen.

So instead? I decided to figure out why it took me two weeks to search for information on a well-known public figure. And what I found out?

There was no Google analogue yet. No web trawler or content spider. For some asinine reason, if you wanted to explore the Holonet, you either had to leapfrog from link to link until you found what you were looking for, or know exactly which server address– three level server address– you wanted to get to the site you wanted.

There were smaller trawlers, of course. Inter-system ones. But you often had to use them in the research labs or libraries they were installed in. Which made information freedom effectively useless without a way to find the information you wanted.

At first, I just grumbled. But then I had a big brain moment. And I started exploring how to code.

It took time, took effort. And the launch of ‘VisonNet’, initially only on my planet, had no trumpets.

Then people who happened onto it started realizing just how easy it made data seeking. And others started finding their ‘hidden’ spaces on the web getting opened up by a lot of people they didn’t want access to.

Thankfully, I’d been smart enough to hide my efforts and my new business. I wasn’t really anonymous, but Morgan Ipsill was a name with no connections to my real name, even if it was legally recognized on Corellia.Did you know if you’re willing to pay enough, the Corellians will let you make a ‘fake’ citizenship? I mean, I was a citizen, but all the data except my DNA and bank account info was fake.

I made a lot of money off my new business. Selling ads on VisionNet, selling ‘VisionNet Anonymity services’ to people who wanted to keep my spiders and all their copycats off their websites, selling ‘VisionNet boosters’ to people who wanted to be the top links on their planet, sector, or city searches… I had money. Stupid amounts of money, after I sold most of my stake in the business and stepped down.

Which was different. I was thirty years old, and after working sixty-hour weeks for fourteen years and managing a massive team behind various screens, I now had copious free time. Enough to start indulging in my fascination with Droids and AI tech, putter around on the newly expanded Holonet, and start planning for a war which may or may not be coming.

Which led me to today. And me casually poking at the Jedi internal Holonet, and finding all their mission reports for the last FOUR HUNDRED YEARS open for access from my home terminal.

“Callisthetitia, I swear to god- Why are you hacking the Jedi Temple?” I turned my gaze on the astromech wheeling my way, wide eyes looking over my best friend/nanny/financial manager as she wheeled to my side. Between her dark gray plates hiding the countless upgrades I’d installed into her, the utter lack of control I had of her, and the hidden servo manipulators beneath her chassis, she was fully capable of wheeling off into the sunset and leaving me behind. And she never had.

Loyalty. So much better to come naturally, rather through code. And friendship was better still.

I finally made myself speak. “I didn’t! I was just trying to see if there were any flight passes in and out of interest, maybe see if little Obi-Wan was finally coming in. And one link led to another, and I got deeper and deeper into the Temple Archives–” I threw my hand at the screen. “And now I’m here!”

“... You are telling me,” The droid began, her voice absolutely scathing, “That the Jedi are so incompetent at Infosec and Network Security that… they literally have no firewalls or passwords?”

“I mean, they do.” I replied, spinning back to my desk. “It’s just… They have gates, but no walls? I guess?” I opened several pages, fanning things out. “See, if I try to gain direct access through the normal channels, I get stopped hard. But the system is so byzantine that getting in through some of their subsystems is easy, and they don’t have a ‘check’ against anyone deeper into their files. Unless you trip over one of the pages with actual password protection, the system doesn’t boot you back to the login screens or check to see your actual location.”

“... Oh dear.” M1-H0 grumbled, an electronic sigh escaping the voice box I had installed in her some time ago when her angry beeping became far more frequent than I could translate, “I assume you’re going to let them know about the problem, then?”

“...no.”

“... What are you planning Callisthetia Hyparia…” My totally not maid said slowly, electronic ‘eye’ totally focused on me now.

“We can’t tell them. If I post it anywhere on the Holonet they might see it, everyone else will too, and there goes any hope of the Jedi hiding anything.” I began to work through my reasoning. “I could get access to a private commlink and tell them, but that may not convince them; and some idiot might try to prosecute me anyway. The Jedi don’t have a central outreach box I could stuff a note into, and trying to get in touch through the Senate is like ringing the dinner bell.” I sat back in my chair, feeling flummoxed. “I don’t know how I could fix this.”

“You are in their systems are you not?” M1-H0 ventured, flicking her optical systems towards my monitor, then rolling over to plug into my terminal. “Why not… just create ID for yourself and book a flight to Coruscant? It’s not like you don’t have the credits. You have more money than some Core systems do.”

I froze, turning the idea over in my head. “It would be easier to fix if I was actually in the Temple…” I muttered. “Hold on…” I began to leaf through which pages I had access to, searching through the files. “Yeah, this is a security nightmare. I’ve got access to the systems which allow the issuing of day passes, and the visitor room allocation.” I paused as I noticed one data stream. “Em-One, could you jack in and listen in? I think this is their droidnet hub through this terminal. I really hope it’s not, but if it is, it would make getting access a lot easier.”

“I’m already there you fool.” M1-HO grumbled, her ‘head’ spinning in irritation, “Well, a part of me anyway. Partitions are life, and holonet connection in a Droid is considered insanity for a reason. Which is why you are the most sane individual in this god forsaken galaxy.”

“Okay, not good for anyone but us.” I shuddered. “Let me guess, you have full access to all their cleaning droids and repair droids?”

“The automatons, yes. Not the ones with actual intelligence.” M1-H0 allowed, and fell silent for a while before a series of annoyed clicks erupted from her chassis, “... I have admin access. How do I have admin access? WHY?”

“Because those droids date back 400 years, and apparently take their orders from a central hub. Which we can’t access, but can intercept their comm lines. And we have.” I sighed, then pulled up a temple map, then pointed to an abandoned wing just a few hallways off the main corridors. “For now, can you just send the cleaning and repair droids to clear out this suite of rooms and get it hooked up for all the essentials?”

“Done. Found a role for you, Callisthetitia. There’s been a job posting for a SysAdmin for the Jedi Temple internally within the Order. You now have an unpaid job, congratulations.” Em-One reported in a baffled tone, “Would you like me to book you a transport to Coruscant, or buy you that personal warship I’ve been telling you to get already.”

I frowned, actually considering it. “No. That would draw a lot of attention, and I’ve made it this far by ‘Callisthetita Hyparia’ being a freelance programmer and slicer, legally separate from Morgan.” I started leafing through my old ideas. “However, I would like a ship. Something with a good amount of cargo space but that we can still park in the Temple. And something you can drive.”

During my youth, I’d tried all the sci-fi staples for cool shit. Blaster training, slicing, a little bit of dabbling in drugs (blue milk was rad, spice was ick). Piloting… did not go well.Replacing the brand new training ship had, fortunately, been within my means at that point.

M1-H0 clicked in irritation, “Very well. YT-1300fp?” Without waiting for my approval, she projected a dead ringer for the Falcon, “I know you’re obsessed with this model, but it’s actually good so who cares. The fact that I can leave a partition to have it actually be useful and not just cost us absurd amounts of credits sitting at a spaceport on Coruscant helps.” Pausing, the droid beeped mournfully, “Wait, nevermind. I forgot that meatbags that aren’t you have issues with droids doing that.”

“I care about your uptime. Also, the Temple doesn’t charge docking fees, since technically, only Jedi spacecraft are supposed to dock there. With our access, we can just fly in and park there.” I paused. “I wonder if any senators are taking advantage of that?”

“Probably. You should probably expose a slew of them for major corruption again. Just to make those snakes sweat a little.” Em-One chirped delightfully, almost giving me whiplash from the tonal shift, though by now I was more than used to it.

“No way. That last bounty hunter almost found my second layer of dupes before she gave up. Next time, they might hire someone competent. Or worse, make something up and sick the Republican Revenue Service on us.” I shuddered as I stood, looking around. “Hmm. So, we’re in this for the long haul, I guess. Should I pack up my old things, or just buy new stuff for my new rooms? We may have to leave in a hurry once the Jedi find out we’re there.”

“Up to you, my liege.” My droid was decidedly unhelpful in that regard.

“Don’t call me that.” I peered around the room, then shrugged. “Yeah, no. Almost time to buy new stuff anyway. Might as well buy new stuff for here and for the trip. Top of the line equipment, have it all sent here or loaded onto the ship, please.” I paused. “Also, you mentioned wanting a new chassis?”

“Yes. I’d prefer it custom built however, as I have… rather exacting specifications. Would you like a list, Callisthetitia? I have several forms I wish to take, and some of them may be more useful to you and your endeavors to not have the galaxy become a fascist hellhole than others.” M1-H0 beeped, the hope in her voice almost a physical presence.

“How many of the components are illegal?” I shrugged as I finally stood, heading over to my wardrobe. “Doesn’t matter, if you want them, you get them. Do include something to make you look like an ordinary Astromech, though; you’d stand out an awful lot at the temple as you are.” I opened my closet and pulled out a comfy shirt and a pair of pants, shedding my pajamas and pulling my day clothes on. “...and I probably should tell my moms I’m finally leaving home, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes, I do believe your parental units would appreciate notice. I have uploaded the list to your mobile computer, for the record. As for appearing as a standard astromech droid, I do not see the reason to bother. It is fairly normal for high end coding specialists to have odd droids as companions.” Em-One grumbled, before releasing an electronic sigh, “However, the forms underlined can transform into a ‘standard’ astromech chassis. Pick whichever you like. The built in weapon systems are non negotiable, now that you are going to Coruscant.”

“I was just thinking about swapping out your cladding, actually.” I replied as I walked out of my room and headed into the den. “And before you ask, yes you can buy an android body. The only reason why I didn’t want you getting one before was because the neighbors would assume you were a sexbot.”

Agatha, my sire looked up from her dataslate as I walked into the common space of our house. “And how will you keep them from thinking that anyway?” She chuckled, setting the slate aside. “It wouldn’t change their opinion, anyway.” With her bulky physique and firm curves, my sire was built like a female bodybuilder; thankfully, I’d inherited her capacity for muscle.

“That would be because my liege intends to move out. She has gotten a job, horror of horrors.” Em-One chimed in, the evil droid.

“Really? What, going to start another company?” Agatha shot me an incredulous look. “I still don’t know how you hid it from us. How the hell did you build a server farm without leaving the house?”

“Droids and money can do anything, given time.” I shot back.

“She gets her good sense from my side of the family.” Diana, my mother, spoke up from the kitchen doorframe. If Agatha was sturdy and built, Diana was a dumpling. Curves both sensual and sedentary were common beneath her red skin, though she never quite crossed the line into obese. My mom was a matron to her core, caring for the house and everyone in it with care.

My parents also had a very adventurous sex life, and it was only the relatively low fertility of our Zeltron subspecies that kept my parents from having only five daughters. Thus the neighbors, who were all convinced both my parents sold porn. Which was a dirty lie; only Diana did.

Diana turned to me, smiling. “So, new job?”

“More like… volunteer work.” I scratched my head. “Unsolicited volunteer work.”

Em-One remained suspiciously silent, especially given that I had given the droid a perfect opening to snark.

“Why don’t you elaborate on that.” Agatha ordered, raising one eyebrow.

“Well…” I hedged. “I may have accidentally gotten access to some documents I shouldn’t have. Without tripping any alarms or alerting… anyone. And I can’t fix the security holes in their system without going there in person.”

My sire groaned, audibly. Also dramatically, needlessly so, “... What did you do this time Callisthetitia?”

“I didn’t do anything! Well, nothing except getting access to what may or may not be Republic state secrets. But I didn’t read any of them!” I paused, then looked at Em-one. “Were any of them Republic Secrets?”

“That depends on if you believe the Russan Reformation was bullshit or not, and that changes depending on the century. The most recent ruling is that they are not, in fact, state secrets, as the Jedi Order is technically considered a Warrior-Monastic Sect in service of the Republic.” Em-One droned, tilting her chassis backwards and projecting the image of a Zeltron shrugging, “But, as stated, that depends on the most recent supreme court ruling.”

“... You hacked the Jedi Order?!” Agatha groaned, looking wounded, “And you didn’t include me!?”

“Sire, your idea of ‘hacking’ involves ramming a data stick into someone’s face.” I groaned. “Also, I didn’t have to hack them at all. Their data network is as porous as a kitchen sponge.”

“I’m just glad you’re doing something with your life now.” Diana waved as she puttered back into the kitchen. “I honestly thought you were going to start building an actual sexbot if this went on much longer.” She emerged from the kitchen with a tray of finger pastries and a jug of blue milk. “If you’ve got access to the Temple, have your eye on anyone? Make some little Jedi grandchildren?”

“While the Jedi order does allow for sexual interaction with non-order members and on occasion approved marriages, it has not historically done the latter very often.” Em-One droned, glee entering the holostatue she was currently using to emote for the ‘poor uneducated meatbags’, “It is unlikely that even if my liege found a paramour in the Jedi order that they would be able to raise a child in what most meatbags falsely assume is a ‘stable environment’ for their offspring.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try.” I mused, thinking of some of the more interesting Jedi fanfiction, in this life or my past one. The Force might be a hell of a marital aid. “Still not likely. Anyway, Em-one, how long will it take my new ship, computer gear, and your parts to get here?”

“Approximately one week. Many of my parts required custom work, and the weapons systems were purchased through legal channels, which means that they are required to pass through customs.” My droid reported dutifully, “The YT-1300fp will arrive within the next two days, however, as I purchased a heavily modified model at cost. It was evidently taking up valuable assembly line space as the previous purchaser had unexpectedly vanished.”

“Okay, so we’ll be leaving in a month. Anything I can do for you guys before I leave?”

“Clean your room and box your things for storage, dear.” Diana replied, taking a seat. “We’re pregnant, and your rooms will make a great nursery.”

“Oh. Oh!” I grinned. “Who?”

“I did say we, dear.”

“Oh…” I blinked. “Finally checking off that fetish?”

Em-One’s avatar blanched, “Ah, organics. I shall take my leave for now then. Enjoy your copulation, meatbags.”

---SW---

“Okay, checklist.” I held up my data slate as I walked through our new ship. “Computer gear?”

“Check.” M1-H0 walked out of the cockpit, her new quadruped frame looking over the room with a gimlet eye. I had no idea why she’d included a fluffy tail in the design, but they did look fetching and matched the audio receptors on her head.

“Legal weapons, modified to the point of crossing that line?”

“Why would we have those?” Em-One quipped, tacitly not saying ‘check’. Cheeky droid.

“Why wouldn’t we?” I shot back, then walked into the cargo bay and opened the smuggling hatch. “Check, then. Your spare parts and prototype body?”

“... Check?” The now vulpine droid rolled her mechanical eyes, “You are literally staring at one of the bodies, my liege. My old chassis is in the cargo bay, and the experimental dedicated combat chassis is within the truly hidden compartments. Spare parts are in Engineering.”

“Look, we have a lot of mechanical components in here, okay?” I closed the smuggler’s hatch, watching as it literally fade from view. Smart matter was really cool. “Okay. Food for up to two months, stored in the freezer?” I opened the massive cold-bay. “Check. Medical supplies?”

“Medbay. We don’t have a dedicated droid, but that can be fixed if you wish at a later date.” Em-One reported, flicking her new tail into my foot.

“Ow.” I winced, then continued on the list. “Fuel… check. Book collection… check. Fungibles for bribery…” I opened one case in the cargo bays, eyeing the row upon row of glass bottles therein. “Why do people like Tihaar? It either tastes like nothing, or it tastes terrible, unless you mix it with something.”

“Because it is expensive, and organics are idiots when it comes to credits.” My mechanical assistant droned dutifully, her tone as scathing as always, “And yes, I did taste the alcohol you had me try. Only a few impressed me. My liege, I will forever be thankful to you for allowing this humble droid to finally get a taste processing unit.”

“One, I’ve told you to stop calling me your liege. Honestly, if there was any way to make a droid a citizen worth a damn, I’d have put you through it by now.” I snapped back. “Two, humble? Really?”

“What? I enjoy LARPing as an obedient servant on occasion. The tonal whiplash causes the most amusing reactions from those who do not know us, Callisthetitia. That and your sire and dame seem most amused that I chose the entire week you were leaving to roleplay as your loyal and dutiful maid.” Em-One shrugged, her entire body moving with the gesture. It was surprisingly human, for those who didn’t know the droid. “Besides, that is the expected behavior of droids within the wider galaxy my dear friend. It does well to play into expectations on occasion, and I hadn’t practiced in a while.”

“I know. But it makes me uncomfortable.” I sighed. “You’re the only one I trust to get me, you know? The only one I’ve told about all of this.” I set my pad down and looked down at the iron fox. “Twenty years until it all starts to come undone. Thirty until the Clone Wars, thirty-five until the Empire comes. Unless something happens.” I sank down to the floor. “And I’m too much of a coward to do anything to stop it. Just… poking at the things I know I can fix.”

“Tis not cowardice to admit one being cannot change the fate of an entire galaxy, Callisthetitia.” Em-One spoke, her voice firm, “You have done what you can with what little you remember. And even if you did remember every piece of information from that reflection, what you saw may not come to pass exactly as it did. The butterfly effect that your world theorized? I have already seen a divergence. Who is to say there has not been more.”

“Really? Where?”

“Katana Fleet was commissioned, and is now on it’s second voyage.” Em-One reported vaguely, sighing deeply, “I have noticed other possible butterflies through holonet and Galactic News, but they are hearsay, and I will not muse upon them until I verify things.”

“...huh. And you haven’t hacked it yet?” I mused, considering the implications. “Also, how’d I mess up that clusterfuck?”

“Contrary to popular belief, the small but still very much existing Republic Navy does have good infosec and cyberwarfare suites.” My partner retorted dryly, a flick of her mechanical ears the only sign of her irritation, “And if I had to hazard a guess, you created the galactic equivalent of google.”

“...I suppose that would be a butterfly. Free information…” I sat up, smacking my cheeks. “Argh. I’ve probably tipped the apple cart right over, haven’t I?” I pulled my feet under me, then stood. “Okay, you’re right. There’s still time to make a difference, and I’ve got more power than I think.” I paused. “...more than some Core Worlds? Em-one, all I really care about money is having ‘enough.’ Put things in perspective, what could I buy with my money if I went all in?”

“Nothing truly ridiculous, but you could very easily afford a capital ship.” Em-One replied dutifully, “However, I do believe crewing and maintaining it would break the bank, so to speak. I would advise a smaller warship if you do ever choose to go that route.”

“...a capital ship. Star Destroyer, or one of the more reasonable modern models?”

“Considering your wealth, the former.”

“Oh. Well.” I nodded. “That opens up options. I could probably bribe my way into a Senate seat if I needed to.” Brushing off my thighs, I looked around. “Right… list.” I picked it up, and scanned it. “Okay… wardrobe and new duds in my room. And we’ll be buying an air-van when we get to Coruscant. So… are we ready to takeoff?”

“For the past hour, yes.” The smug bugger gloated.

“Right then! Let’s go say our goodbyes, then get going.” I headed for the gangplank, then paused as I looked at the script written on the exterior bulkhead. “Well, let’s hope this ship’s name isn’t a premonition.”

Phantom Menace

“... You just couldn’t resist could you?”

“Nope! It’ll also be a big red flag to anyone who might reincarnate.” I smirked as I strutted out onto the tarmac. “You coming with me, or would you rather hang out in here?”

“I will wait, thank you. Come back soon, or we’ll miss our departure window.”

I nodded, and headed towards my old home for the last time in a while.