Her droid was dead.
Dead dead. Not just 'empty battery' or a fried memory board, absolutely 100% dead. Gone to the great electronic essence that surrounded everything... or whatever. Nara knew better than to be too sentimental about droids but this one in particular got to her. 3-B had been her companion since she was a kid. She'd had him for nearly a decade. From the vents and passageways of Nar Shaddaa, to the Jedi Temple, all through her training and afterwards. Her best friend. Sometimes, her only friend. Now he was gone.
Time to make a new one.
She'd heard word through some of her contacts about an old droid factory, long abandoned. They'd made all sorts of them there, the company desperately trying to find some model that'd catch on. Unfortunately, they hadn't been a Duwani or a Blackwall, so they'd collapsed and been left in the dustbin of history. And Nara Allam was very, very good at cobbling new things out of dustbins.
The fence hadn't been a problem. It'd been barely holding itself together anyway, especially when faced with a former Jedi. She stood before the factory, checking out the graffiti covered walls. Looked like plenty of the locals had availed themselves of the place but she knew, deeper inside, there was a core section that'd been untouched.
I want those BD plans.
Dead dead. Not just 'empty battery' or a fried memory board, absolutely 100% dead. Gone to the great electronic essence that surrounded everything... or whatever. Nara knew better than to be too sentimental about droids but this one in particular got to her. 3-B had been her companion since she was a kid. She'd had him for nearly a decade. From the vents and passageways of Nar Shaddaa, to the Jedi Temple, all through her training and afterwards. Her best friend. Sometimes, her only friend. Now he was gone.
Time to make a new one.
She'd heard word through some of her contacts about an old droid factory, long abandoned. They'd made all sorts of them there, the company desperately trying to find some model that'd catch on. Unfortunately, they hadn't been a Duwani or a Blackwall, so they'd collapsed and been left in the dustbin of history. And Nara Allam was very, very good at cobbling new things out of dustbins.
The fence hadn't been a problem. It'd been barely holding itself together anyway, especially when faced with a former Jedi. She stood before the factory, checking out the graffiti covered walls. Looked like plenty of the locals had availed themselves of the place but she knew, deeper inside, there was a core section that'd been untouched.
I want those BD plans.