Open Coruscant Flee Market

[Trini Halrixien]

Coruscant, Lower Market District...

Trini Halrixien, adventurer-archaeologist, peered at the ancient piece of metal and glass she held in her hands, rubbing at the patina to try and make out the faint script stamped into its surface. She squinted, struggling to make out the words in a half-forgotten language.

"See-vee-ar... two-five... one-one... oh? No, zero."

Trini turned to look behind her, holding up the artifact so that it could be seen over her shoulder.

"What is that, a CBell variant?"

Behind the little adventurer was an off-white plastoid box, peering up at her with a single electronic eye. The eye adjusted, but after a moment there was a shake of a cranial turret.

"Ominsignal unicode, actually. If I had to guess, it's off an old J-series probe droid. Came out... oh... 120 years after I was built?"

Trini sighed heavily, and set the corroded part back in the plasboard box she had found it in. Turning to another box, she lifted out an oblong piece of durasteel and plastoid, trailing a few loose wires.

"And this?"

Another whir as ZZ-4A4's photoreceptor adjusted.

"First-gen Ferroprol unit. It would probably work... if it were in the right voltage."

Ears drooping, Trini placed the old component back into the box. The droid rolled up beside her, Zeezee's servos whining audibly as he moved. Turning to the droid, the little Amaran winced at the ungainly, jury-rigged tangle of wires and power modules that spilled out of an open access port, serving at least temporarily in place of a motivator.

"Y'know, I dig this stuff up for a career." Complained Trini, folding her arms as she looked down at the mechanical and electronic components piled in the boxes in front of her. "You'd think I'd be better at identifying it."

Zeezee panned his photoreceptor over the boxes.

"It's not your fault. I mean, you must have some idea of just how many droid manufacturers there are and have been in the Galaxy; I have a computerized database of them and it's not even close to complete."

Trini shook her head, and lifted another component out of the box.

"What's this?"

"T8-series motivator, Duwani Mechanical Products. Pin-out won't fit without more modifications than it's worth."

Trini dropped the part back into the box with a frustrated groan, throwing up her hands and turning away from the boxes.

"Frell! Why did everything Hi-Mech made have to use proprietary connectors?!"

As Trini walked to a different part of the stand, a cloth-and-durasteel awning with a sign that proudly proclaimed "Quality Pre-Owned Droid Parts" in 3 major languages, Zeezee followed behind, servos continuing to whine piteously. Stopping in front of a display of half-gutted astromech hulls, Trini began peering into their open access ports, while Zeezee came to a stop beside her.

"Hi-Mech did everything custom... I guess there were no standards for what they were building back in my day. I am sorry that it makes fixing me such a... production."

Trini sighed, shaking her head, and her hand to flick off a blob of dripping lubricant which had gotten onto it.

"It's not your fault, Zeezee... I mean, I'm kinda impressed you're in as good shape as you are, considering where I found you."

Zeezee looked as thoughtful as a droid could for a moment.

"I suppose that was a testament to my design. Or at least my QC inspector."

He shook his cranial turret briefly.

"Still, I didn't come out of it completely unscathed... you remember what I was like when we first met."

Trini looked over at the droid sadly, and nodded.

"Still haven't managed to recompile your deep memory sectors?"

Zeezee turned to Trini.

"I recall the crash, and what happened afterward... but everything before is just, well, bits and pieces."

Trini sighed, nodding, and wiped her hand on the cloth of the awning to try and get the blob of grease off.

"I wish there was more I could do about that... it must be hard, not quite knowing where you've been..." The Amaran shook her head. "Anyway, I don't think this stand is panning out. Let's move on..."

Amaran and droid departed into the throng of the marketplace.

 

[Corran Velt]

Coruscant had been nothing but long, exhausting days and haunting, quiet nights. Assignment after assignment in a never ending tirade of problems. Arresting a Senator, hunting down rogue force-users, battling street gangs; Lieutenant Velt had done all this recently. All the while preparing for the raid on Nar Shaddaa. The Sith Hunt. How long had it been since he slept? Maybe it was more that the nights were short and so was the rest. Today was a different kind of day though. The blond ranger was... "off duty." It felt weird just thinking that phrase. With nothing else to do but skulk around his starship that doubled as his home, Corran did what any other restless young man does with free time.

He wandered.

Vendors of every kind hawked their goods and services throughout the Lower Market District. Colorful fruits, exotic clothing, comm devices, and robot parts. A Rodian woman offered fortunes while a Zeltron man promised to cleanse the stress from all passersby. Corran merely skulked by. Compared to his usual precise way of dressing, his hands tucked into the pockets of his unzipped jacket. His practical pants remained tucked into his boots, but his face had a little scruff to it and his hair was a regular nest. He still kept two blasters on his hips though. Never been without protection. This walk was starting to feel like a patrol.

That is, until someone caught the Sector Ranger's attention. Out of the corner of his eye, Corran spotted a tiny alien with a boxy droid tagging along as they passed between stalls. Blond eyebrows dented in curiosity. "Trini...?" It had been a long time since he'd seen the Amaran. The likelihood that she remained on Coruscant was also pretty slim given the... shared experience they had at Sector Ranger headquarters. Corran had never asked for forgiveness for that; saying sorry for putting the furry alien in danger. Maybe this was opportunity (and distraction) knocking.

The Lieutentant peeled after them, determined to get a better look. He'd brush shoulders with a random passerby here, side-step someone there. Blue eyes never lost their sight of the Amaran or her droid companion. Once close enough, her look was unmistakable. "Trini?" Corran called out, "Trini Halrixien, is that you?" He'd try to catch up after attempting to confirm the alien's identity. Better than shouting over crowds of people. "It's me. Corran Velt. Remember?" It would be fine if she didn't. He had technically taken her into custody to confirm her identity at the headquarters archives, but maybe that was a common occurrence for the furry alien. "What are you doing here?"

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

" Trini, what about that one?"

Trini and Zeezee had gone a little ways down the row of market stalls, both keeping an eye out for parts vendors that looked at all promising, when the little astrogator droid extended a manipulator to tug on the Amaran's shirt sleeve. He gestured to a run-down looking plastoid booth, surrounded by a jumble of open crates and larger freestanding machinery. Printed on the side of the booth was a logo and a name that - while grimy and indistinct - seemed terribly familiar...

"Huh. Yeah, that looks-"

Trini's ears perked up suddenly at a familiar voice, and she turned, scanning the crowd. After a moment, she spotted a face to go with the voice, and her eyebrows rose, even as her face lifted in a smile.

"Corran?!" She called back, amazed. "Wow! I haven't seen you since... well, how are you??"

For her part, Trini seemed perfectly delighted to see the human again. In truth, she was; Coruscant wasn't much fun if you didn't know anybody. Although, she wondered if she could exactly call Corran a friend, strictly, given how little time the two had actually spent together, but they had saved each-others lives a few times, which she supposed had to count for a lot.

"We're shopping for parts!" Trini announced in response to the Sector Ranger's question. She gestured to the tangle of wire and components spilling out of ZZ-4A4's open access panel. "Zeezee here blew a motivator, and it turns out the manufacturer packed up shop about 300 years ago... at this rate I'd settle for something I can modify to make it fit."

Putting her hands on her hips, she turned back to the droid.

"64-pin xylen-plated connectors. Seriously, even during the High Republic, who thought that was a good idea?"

"They spared no expense in my design." The droid muttered defensively.

Trini sighed and turned to Corran, shrugging.

"So, yeah. That's what we're up to... what about you?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A genuine smile on the Amaran's face was so unexpected that it made Corran raise his eyebrows and blink in astonishment. He was expecting such a jovial welcome. Instinctively, the blond man reciprocated with a wide grin. Despite their past troubles (if you can call them that), Trini just seemed to click with him. "I'm doing alright. Just taking in some time off for the day," the ranger replied to her first question. Something of a fib, given that all the work that burdened him recently but the tiny alien didn't need to know the details.

Curiosity dawned on Corran's face at mention of parts. His interested gaze followed the tiny alien's introduction to the boxy droid near her said. An ancient one, by the way she told it. The blond man scanned the robot's damaged section with a clinical eye but could only shake his head in sympathy. Lieutenant Velt didn't understand droids. Not a single droid even helped aboard the YT-1300 Crimson Venture; his personal transport. They were a mechanical mystery to him, especially compared to all the technical-parts-babble Trini was discussing with the droid. That personal mystery deepened when ZeeZee talked. Corran physically jolted and asked slowly, unsure of what he had just heard, "That thing... can speak basic?"

Even after Trini had turned around, the blond man examined the boxy machine skeptically. He bent over at the waist to get down to its level, hands on his knees. Droids usually had their own language of beeps unless they were specifically protocol droids. This one looked closer to an astromech than anything like that. It seemed more... aware too. After musing about the venerable ZeeZee, Corran shifted his blue-eyed gaze over to the Amaran. It was only then that he noticed the patch on her face where hair refused to grow. A scar. Almost an exact mirror-reflection of his own. Remorse flowed into his chest and his eyes softened. "You got that from... from before, didn't you?," Corran asked, ignoring her own question, "From headquarters?"

That building was all ashes now but memories kept haunting the survivors, it seemed. Lieuntenant Velt rose back to his full height and rested his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry for the harm I brought to you." A melancholy, uncertain frown slowly appeared on his features. Taking a civilian into danger was the riskiest thing a law enforcement officer could do. At the time, Corran had assumed the building only contained survivors that needed rescuing; Not Sith terrorists along with them. A heavy sigh left the man's nostrils. "It won't make up for everything, but what if I helped you look for this... uh..." A hand gestured vaguely to the nest of wires sticking from the droid's head, "...Part. I'm off duty today."


@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini raised a hand to her face at Corran's comment, the little vulpinoid's finger tracing the line of smooth flesh along her cheek. In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor wound, even treatable should she so desire. Bacta had prevented infection, of course, but the medic who had treated Trini was unfamiliar with Amaran biology, and so scar tissue had formed. In theory, the little archaeologist could get secondary treatment with specialists that would restore her fur patterns, but she just hadn't had the time, and really, she was losing the inclination.

It was the memories that came flooding back with the wound that hit her, of course. Picking her way through the shattered lower levels of the Sector Rangers' headquarters, taking a blaster from the hand of a dead Ranger, and the sick, cloying sensation that had run through her when she had fought-

With a shudder, Trini withdrew her hand, shaking her head.

"D-Don't apologize." The Amaran replied. "That... thing needed put down, and if we hadn't happened to be there, they would have gone after someone else."

Brightening a little, Trini looked up at Corran with a smile. Reaching over, she patted the droid beside her.

"We'd be happy to have you!" She declared. "As a friend, not to repay a debt."

"And yes, I can talk." Added the droid, swiveling his head turret toward Corran. "ZZ-4A4, at your service. I'm a ZZ-series astrogator droid; Hi-Mech's top of the line, I was! Developers wanted me to be easy for pilots to communicate with, so my series got a proper vocabulator. Though it was the future!"

The droid turned to follow an R4-series astromech as it trundled by, warbling in incomprehensible droid-speak.

"Evidently they were wrong, but oh well."

Trini, looking over at Zeezee, rolled her eyes and gestured toward the booth she and the droid had spotted earlier. Its grimy, faded plastoid looked ancient, and was embossed with a distinctive logo; stylized aurebesh characters, herf and mern. Zeezee, in fact, bore a more discreet form of the logo on his casing.

The Amaran doubted it was an actual Hi-Mech dealership, more likely some enterprising merchant had taken over the place long after the original owners had gone bankrupt, but it seemed a good place to look.

"We were going to start with that booth over there." Trini said, pointing. "You know much about droids?"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

So small, but so brave. Trini had faced down a Sith and suffered for it. She hadn't volunteered for anything related to combat and didn't even have training. With every right to be mad, furious even, the little Amaran showed only understanding and selflessness. The blond ranger titled his head and a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. If only the galaxy was filled with citizens such as her. Maybe things would be a lot better. She didn't even accepting his offering. Through her smile and vocal establishment of friendship, Trini had secured something more than Corran's temporary indentured service. They were comrades now; even if she didn't know it.

When the droid addressed the off-duty ranger, he could only cock an eyebrow and chuckle at its cleverness. Had been it programmed with a personality too or was that something it had collected over the centuries? ZeeZee could even quip at other new models. Contrary to missing a part, the robot seemed plenty motivated.

A vulpinoid gesture pointed out the group's next stop. The establishment didn't seem to stand out in any particular way to Corran's eyes. But if Trini said it was the next place to check, he'd follow that command. Lieutentant Velt strode along side the short alien as they made their way to the semi-shambled booth and tilted his head at her question. "Uh... nothing," he admitted with a shrug, "but I've been told I'm pretty good at finding things." A tiny wink punctuated the reply. A little investigative cop humor.

Wide assortments of junk greeted them as they entered the booth. Piles of discarded metals, plastoids, and fabrics. Stacked in a nearby rectangular container were various limbs for droids of every kind mixed together. Components ranging from caked in dust and sand mingled with ones looking fresh out of the factory. There were even speeder parts in here. Corran rubbed the back of his head as he glanced around the maze of technical debris before him. He picked up a semi-circular device with a handful of wires jutting out of one side and began to examine it. "So... what should I be looking for, anyway? Will I know when I see it?"

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

The booth, indeed, had seen better days. It was a prefabricated type, made of a durable green plastoid material that had probably been quite striking when it was new. As the trio came closer, Trini examined the little structure curiously.

"Probably not." She replied, pacing around the kiosk. "The one I pulled out of Zeezee was circular, dull inoxium with some wires trailing off it..."

Trini was distracted by the service kiosk, for she recognized that this was what the booth had been, in a former life. Like most droid manufacturers, Hi-Mech had once had conventional dealerships, located inside more permanent structures than this one; however, as a matter of convenience for their customers, they had scattered small service kiosks across the Galaxy as well. These kiosks - typically located at busy spaceports and commercial centers - provided basic maintenance, repair and diagnostic services, ensuring that customers who had paid for their costly droids were not left out in the cold if and when they broke down or needed routine tuning. The structure itself was fascinating; they had never been intended to last more than a few decades, and Trini wondered how this one had survived.

As she circled the booth, the attendant - a bored-looking neimoidian - looked up from his holozine.

"Is there something I can help you with, uh, miss?"

Startled out of her contemplation, Trini jumped slightly, turning to the neimoidian and blinking, before coming back to her reason for coming to the booth in the first place.

"Oh! Er... possibly?" She replied, gesturing to Zeezee, who was sorting through the various boxes with his four manipulators extended. "I'm looking for a motivator to fit a ZZ-series astrogator droid. Very old part, circular, 64-pin connector trailing off it?"

The attendant scratched his head, and then pointed with a long finger toward Corran.

"Like that?"

Turning, Trini noticed for the first time the circular item the Sector Ranger had picked up from one of the boxes. Her eyes widened slightly; it was, in fact, a match for the part she had taken out of Zeezee, minus a few scorch marks from the power surge that had fried the old one.

"Corran! You found it!" She called, jogging over. "Good eye! How did-whoa!!"

Tripping over an old power conduit, Trini sprawled headlong into the junk, knocking over a few freestanding pieces next to the booth. Unhurt, she picked herself up, brushing herself off and looking around.

She was about to comment further on the Sector Ranger's discovery, when a glint caught her eye.

"Wait, what's that?"

Reaching out, the little archaeologist cleared dust and grime off an ancient-looking cathode display, set into the side of the kiosk. Next to it was a small keypad, and a set of connector sockets that looked to be for an astromech or similar droid.

Above it was aurebesh script molded into the plastoid, reading: DIAGNOSTIC & REPAIR.

Trini blinked.

"Hey! Does this still work?"

The neimoidian shrugged, and turned back to his holozine.

"Dunno! Came with the place. You're welcome to try it, though."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

The voices of the booth employee and the Amaran faded into fuzzy, indistinguishable sounds. Corran was too preoccupied with the various objects in front of him. He held onto the first part he pulled from the pile in his left hand but kept picking through the rest. Several chips that looked like they could be the guts of some type of droid. An ocular eye unit for an R-unit with a cracked lens. Attachments for robotic manipulators, much like the ones ZeeZee was currently using to conduct a thorough search of their own. Combing through the whole establishment might take a few hours. Beyond that, if they didn't find anything, they would have to go onto more stalls and vendors. The chance of finding the right part today, or something like it, was slim to n-

Corran heard his voice exclaimed and he abruptly turned to see Trini jogging towards him. He blinked, not fully processing what all the excitement was about. Her sudden loss of footing and tumble forced him to wince in sympathy but the spry alien was back on her feet before he could offer a hand. It was only after she had risen from her feet and began investigating some other relic that the blond man finally registered what kicked off the events. All the luck in the universe had plucked the part from the first bin at the first store they stopped at. Jedi would say something about 'the will of the Force' right about now. Incredibly cosmic happenstance was more likely.

Still... what an odd thing. Corran clasped both hands on the circular part and held it out like an newborn given to an family member uninvited. He was both afraid of dropping or it possibly dusting into his face. A few measured, ginger steps eventually had the Sector Ranger right next to his furry friend. "You... think this the motivator?" He asked with some uncertainty, holding it aloft for Trini to take but also to hold onto as long as needed. Then there was whatever this new discovery was. The rectangular station was coated in dirt and dust - a sign of its long life and disuse. Corran tilted his head and glanced between the kiosk and Trini herself, "And what's this supposed to do?" All of this was unknown and well beyond his real of expertise. Starships was one thing (and only certain freighters at that) but modern droids were a mystery. Ancient ones? Practically indecipherable.

Truth be told, the blond ranger was feeling a little useless compared to the skills of the vulpinoid. But he had relied on others before on blind faith. Twice, in Trini's case. He'd just have to make it a third.


@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini picked up a scrap of discarded flimsiplast, using it to clean off the long-disused console. As she worked, Zeezee rolled up beside her, photoreceptor whirring as he took in the sight emerging from beneath what might have been centuries worth of Coruscant dust and grime.

"Maker..." Remarked the little droid. "...I haven't seen one of these since-"

The droid seemed to pause, apparently encountering a hole in his memory. In a very organic gesture, he looked away from the console.

"It's an actual Hi-Mech diagnostic terminal!" Trini replied to Corran's question. "I never thought I'd see one; the company made a lot of innovative products, but they were centuries ahead of their time. And a lot of their equipment was proprietary; it wasn't as if it could be repurposed after they went out of business. So, once that happened, all their specialized tools were pretty much scrapped..."

Trini looked up at the booth wonderingly.

"I wonder if the owner of this kiosk would consider selling the whole thing? This belongs in a museum!"

Zeezee, apparently coming back to himself, turned to Corran.

"To answer your question a little better, it can do almost anything, short of physical repairs." Said the droid, rolling closer to the old console. "It can diagnose faults, recompile software, even..."

The droid paused, seeming to get slightly emotional.

"...even... recover damaged memory partitions."

Trini, suddenly blinked, looking up from the terminal and staring at Zeezee.

"Wait." She said, eyes widening. "Do you think this could-"

Before Trini could continue, Zeezee pushed past her, rolling up to the console and pressing a button with one of his manipulators. There was the pop-hum of a degaussing cycle, and then the terminal's cathode display slowly lit up, green phosphor text beginning to scroll across its surface. Abruptly, a hatch on Zeezee's front swung open, and an ancient computer probe swung out, extending out to click into the dusty socket next to the keypad.

"Come on... come o-!"

Abruptly, ZZ-4A4 cut off, and seemed to stiffen, the bank of indicator lights atop his cranial turret winking out. Trini's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to touch the droid.

"Zeezee?" She shook the slightly smaller mechanical. "Zeezee?!"

Abruptly, new text began scrolling rapidly across the screen. The lights atop Zeezee's turret slowly began to blink back on, one by one.

"SYS-TEM STAT-US." Intoned the droid, his voice stiff and mechanical compared to his previous dialogue. "ZZ-4A4, H-MECH COR-PO-RA-TION ZZ-SER-IES AS-TRO-GA-TOR DROID. MECH-AN-I-CAL STAT-US: DA-MAGED. MO-TI-VA-TOR, NON-STAN-DARD PART FOUND, 43% E-FFI-CIEN-CY. SOFT-WARE STAT-US: UN-STA-BLE. CORR-UP-TED MEM-0-RY SEC-TORS DIS-CO-VERED. PER-FORM STAN-DARD MEM-O-RY FOR-MAT?"

Trini blinked, then frantically shook her head.

"What?! No, no! Do not format this droid!"

There was a tense pause, during which Trini considered forcibly removing Zeezee's interface plug, before the droid spoke again.

"UN-DER-STOOD. OP-TIONS A-VAIL-A-BLE: 1 - SKIP. 2 - A-TTEMPT DA-MAGED SEC-TOR RE-CO-VER-Y."

Trini furrowed her brow.

"Option... 2?"

"CON-FIRMED. PLEASE STAND BACK."

There was a rapid electronic chatter from Zeezee, and Trini indeed stepped back. She looked up at Corran, still slightly wide-eyed.

"I-... I found Zeezee stuck in the droid socket of a crashed starfighter on Raxus Prime." Trini explained. "He'd been waiting for his master to come back after they went to get help. Near as we can figure, he was there... centuries."

She shook her head.

"He had memory sectors that were damaged in the crash, apparently. He can't clearly remember much from before; it's always bothered him..."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Trini seemed to get more lost in the discovery of this venerable technology than actually describing it. Her excitement made it sound impressive but the details of what it could do was unclear. Mercifully, ZeeZee provided the literal answer. Corran nodded along to the droid, trying to grasp fully what this discovery meant. An answer came sooner than expected and from a rather unanticipated source. The ancient Hi-Mech astromech expressed a forlorn emotion. Was that even possible? Blond eyebrows furrowed in slowly-dawning comprehension. ZeeZee was not whole. And not just because the ranger held a possible missing piece of its head either.

Lieutenant Velt leaned over the Amaran's shoulder once the droid had plugged itself in. What followed was a laser-light show of techno-babble. ZeeZee intoned in staccato input commands while its owner frantically tried to manage the situation. The blond man took an instinctive step backwards as everything unfolded rapidly. Was such a risky undertaking worth it? Only when Trini had joined him a few steps from the kiosk did he lessen the tension in his shoulders. Maybe checking out a holo-book on astromechs in the future might help.

Yellow-orange eyes looked up at Corran and his own blue flicked to meet them. A story that told the origins of the extremely rare droid followed. Raxus Prime was dump out in the Outer Rim. Literally. Everything from capital ship hulls and flat-out garbage ended up there. The former space trader had never actually been to the planet, but he had passed by it once or twice on the hyperlanes and traded in goods that went to and from it. Scrap went for a tidy sum of credits at the right colony. But other ancient wonders lurked beneath the debris it seemed. "Centuries... I can't even imagine such patience and dedication," Corran vocally empathized. Losing ones memories would be painful for anyone. Apparently even for a droid.

One thing prodded at his mind. "Dug ZeeZee up on Raxus Prime?" The young man asked with some visible curiosity, "I thought you were a student." Initial interrogations had produced a few frenzied claims from the little furry alien. None of it had any record that ended up in Sector Ranger intranet, so he had brought her back to Coruscant for deep dive into the archives. None of that mattered now. All the records were long gone but a student digging through literal mountains of metal and trash seemed like an intense way to spend one's time. "You seem more like an expert on... well, everything." And if memory served, Trini wasn't too bad in a fight either.

As the diagnostic progressed, Corran held the circular part aloft for his friend to see. "After it's all done, will ZeeZee still need this?" It was an honest question. The amiable astromech appeared to function well without it, but he wanted to make certain before either tossing it back into the bin or bartering for the price with the Neimodian at the counter.

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini looked at the ground as Corran commented on her droid companion's loyalty to his likely long-dead master. She felt a slight pang; had she not been shot down by bandits where she had, she would probably be dead, and the droid would still have been waiting.

"I've... never met a droid like him."

The young archaeologist shook her head.

"I am a student. Well, grad student." She replied to Corran's other comment. "I was part of an archaeological expedition to Raxus Prime; my professor wanted to map trends in consumer goods by working through the junk dunes layer by layer. I was writing my thesis at the time; see, I don't think technology has truly advanced since the days of the Old Republic, and I was going to study old technology to prove it. Like for example! Did you know that millennia before the Republic, Xim the Despot built-"

Biting her lip, Trini looked back toward Zeezee, who still sat motionless in front of the console, the screen flashing incomprehensible code and technical diagrams.

"I suppose that doesn't matter. What does matter is that while we were on the planet, bandits attacked our camp. They killed everyone they could find; I-I was... I was the only one who got out, a-as far as I know."

The image of a fellow student with a blaster to the back of their neck flashed through Trini's memory, and the little Amaran shuddered.

"I got away in a speeder, but I guess the bandits realized I was there, finally. They chased me, shot down my speeder, probably would have finished me off. But Zeezee saved me."

Trini nodded toward the immobile droid.

"From far away, I guess I looked enough like his old master to get his attention. Well, it turned out the weapons on that wrecked starfighter he was jammed in still worked; the bandits never knew what hit them."

She shrugged.

"I got the repulsors on said fighter working, and flew us both to the nearest settlement. There's more, but suffice to say we've been together ever since."

After a moment of silence, Trini turned to look at the motivator in Corran's hand, as if just remembering it.

"Oh! Ah, yes. I would hold on to that; that tangle of wires hanging out of him is just something I rigged up temporarily so he can move. He'll need a proper motivator to get back to his old self..."

She bit her lip again, turning back to the droid.

"...whoever that turns out to be, I guess."

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Many people likely would have considered Trini's story a dull one. Average galactic citizens mostly cared about sports. liquor, and whatever else passed the time between work shifts. Thesis studies, exhaustive research, archeology. These were the things of dull conversation for most. Except for Corran. His attention was obviously captured as he nodded along and perked his eyebrows at things he thought were fascinating. Technology stagnation, centuries of junk that acted like time capsules. Interest clearly shown on his features. Well, right up until she got to the part where the raiders showed up.

No place in the galaxy was safe from criminals, it seemed. Not even defenseless field trips. The ranger frowned in sympathy; his eyes averting to the floor. Trini's story, the emotion expressed in it, commanded his gaze to return. Only by cosmic miracle did she manage to stumble across a functioning starfighter and her future compatriot that now stood motionless in the terminal. From student to killer. Then that bar above Tatooine where they first encountered one other. Coruscant and the fire. The little Amaran had endured so much for someone with a good heart. The blond man shifted his jaw in thought. He wanted to protect and help her somehow.

At least the luckily-found Hi-Tech motivator provided some relief from a grim conversation. "O-oh, right," Corran said, clutching the droid part closer to his chest. Trini was quite patient with a man who didn't know the first thing about robot repairs. He noticed her subtle bite of the lip and turn to her mechanical companion. It wasn't hard to imagine what she was feeling. If Bast Emblai, his closest friend and partner, was undergoing life-altering surgery, he'd be in the same void of uncertainty and hope. He'd want to be comforted in that situation, even if he couldn't admit. So the young man did what felt natural.

A broad hand reached between the vulpinoid's ears and ruffled her blue-green hair comfortingly. "ZeeZee will be alright. You've been there for each other for a long time, by the sound of it. Getting new memories won't replace the ones already earned." Corran's voice was soft, patient, and understanding. Like a man who maybe had experienced similar weights beyond what she already knew. Just as gently as it came, the hand lifted itself from Trini's head and hid itself back in the ranger's coat pocket. All they could do now was wait and hope that the uneducated youth from Commenor was right.

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini blinked as she felt a weight settle between her tall ears, then gave a sigh of comfort as the taller human ruffled her hair. Some Amarans might have objected to such treatment, but in truth, it was exactly what Trini believed she needed at that moment.

When the hand withdrew, she nodded uncertainly.

"I hope you're right..." She replied. "I don't think a memory restoration could alter his core personality matrix, but... what kind of new information might be in there?"

As if in answer to her question, the electronic babble from the console suddenly stopped. There was a rapid beeping, and the cathode display on the console flashed up the Hi-Mech corporate logo, before reverting to a blinking cursor.

"MEM-O-RY RE-COV-ER-Y COM-PLETE. 99.3% SUC-CESS-FUL. THANK YOU FOR CHOOS-ING HI-MECH MAINT-E-NANCE SER-VI-CES. GOOD DAY."

Abruptly, the cathode display blinked off, and ZZ-4A4's computer probe retracted from the socket. After it withdrew behind its protective hatch, the little droid continued to sit motionless.

Trini, hands clasped in front of her chest, took a hesitant step toward her friend.

"Zeezee...?"

There was a soft, electronic sound, what could have been a test pattern. It resolved, however, growing into the closest thing to anguish Trini or Corran had ever heard from any droid.

"Master Krayd... oh maker, I failed, I failed us all!!"

Her eyes widening, Trini reached out to place a tender hand on the droid's cranial turret.

"Zeezee??" She questioned softly. "What-"

Abruptly, Zeezee's head snapped around, his single photoreceptor fixing on Trini. It was impossible to tell emotion on the face of a droid, but that did not stop Trini from jumping back slightly at the sense she got from friend.

"Thank you, Trini, for everything. But please, where I go, you must not follow!!"

Abruptly, the droid lurched forward, pushing Trini to the ground and moving with surprising speed. As he rolled by, a manipulator reached out to snag the motivator from Corran before he could react. Within a heartbeat, the astrogator droid had disappeared into the dense crowds of Coruscant's commercial district.

Picking herself up, Trini was wide-eyed, beginning to chase after her mechanical companion.

"Zeezee! Zeezee!! Come back!!!"

From behind her, the commotion seemed to have gotten the attention of the booth attendant, who shook his fist after the droid.

"Hey!! You need to pay for that!!"

Scowling, Trini dug a credit chit out of her pocket and threw it at the attendant, before scrambling after her friend.

"C'mon, Corran, before he hurts himself!!"

@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Corran didn't know Trini very well. Her temperament. Favorite time of year. Childhood memories. What siblings she had. Not even favorite color. But her worry for ZeeZee was palpable. That much he knew. He may not have understood what made droids tick and beep, but the powerful bonds between beings he knew all too well. ZeeZee wasn't some bot fished out of a junk heap. It was more than that. The blond ranger hadn't know the ancient droid for more than an hour but because of the tiny Amaran's aura of concern, he prayed for it's safe rebooting.

Prayers sometimes do not go unanswered, but are responded to in ways unexpected. The astromech had awakened. Trini approached it gingerly but was soon rebuffed by ZeeZee spouting nonsense. Lieutenant Velt gave them space, only following their rapid discussion by looking at one and then the other. The droid's unanticipated rush instinctively forced the ranger to take a step back, exposing the part in his hand away from his torso. A metal arm yanked the motivator from his grasp and sent him staggering backwards onto a table of parts and mechanisms. Trini was already up and hurling money at the cashier before Corran had recovered. At her call, he pushed off the table, causing some of the parts to rattle to the floor, and bolted after his friend in pursuit.

Outside the booth, groups of people walked to and fro to various stalls, shops, and booths. Crowds formed and broke apart. It was a rather large market district after all. Sector Ranger training took over. Chasing after a startled droid was no different than chasing after a fugitive on the run. Corran's head swiveled rapidly from left to right, his eyes focused like an avian predator. A couple yelped in surprise a few booths over as they made way for some unseen thing hurdling their way. For only the breadth of a second, the blond ranger glimpsed the unique and ancient head-casket of ZeeZee.

"Trini, I see it! This way!" He called out to the Amaran. Given her short stature, she may not have see the sharp-turn the astromech took up ahead. At a dead sprint, Lieutenant Velt unhooked his badge from inside his jacket and flashed it at bystanders ahead. "Sector Rangers! Outta the way!" Civilians jumped out of the way, tripped in surprise, or stumbled aside. At the intersection of shops where ZeeZee had turned right, Corran practically skidded on his heels and turned sharply after it. He glanced over his shoulder to Trini, breathing deeply in pauses. "Do you... have any idea... where they are going?"

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini skidded around a corner as she dashed through the crowd after her wayward friend, small claws scrabbling on the concrete as she ran nearly on all fours. Corran, with his longer legs, had gotten ahead of her, which was just as well; he could see further, and his Sector Ranger badge cut a convenient swath through the milling crowd.

The little Amaran shook her head at the human's question, gritting her teeth in frustration and worry.

"I have no idea!" She called, still bounding along behind the Sector Ranger. "He's never acted like this before! What could possibly-"

Trini's eyes widened at a sudden realization.

"Spaceport!" She called. "He's a pilot droid! He's probably going back to our ship!"

@TerranSteel

 

[It0]

The 2-1B Medical Droid and Crymorah Syndicate associate, It0, rounded the corner of one of Coruscant City's bustling city blocks and was pleased to see the oblong buildings of the Municipal Spaceport swing into view. The facility, made up of a pair of tall rounded towers with its outer walls of transparent plexi, served as the central point for the majority of the capital city's incoming and outcoming space traffic. Even as It0 toddled his way up the boulevard, an endless parade of spacecraft filtered in and out of the spaceport's countless hangar bays.

His week in the Galactic Core had been busy, productive and altogether intolerable. Crymorah tasking tended to follow familiar patterns. Strongarming, thievery, extortion; all to curry favor for the underground snydicate and more importantly, their defacto leader Preef Zaa Fenn. The week's sole highlight had been the opportunity to make his case to the Rodian Crimelord regarding the Droid Gotra. The Gotra, a droid emancipation collective, had long used the Mothkari Family as entrypoints into work for the Crymorah and were now suffocating under that arrangement. It0's ambitions sought to change that. But he would need friends. Powerful ones.

For now, he reflected as the spaceport's main repulsorlift lurched upward, he would settle for returning to his beloved Nar Shaddaa. The Smuggler's Moon and it's haphazard patchwork of architecture and culture appealed to the droid's ever-widening curiosity as he explored true 'sentience'. And there something else at play there he couldn't quite identify. Something thrumming just below the neon-rimmed surface that seemed to call to It0. Something present deep within the ruinous bowels of the lower levels. Something hungry.

A cheerful ding! roused the droid from his thoughts as the lift reached it destination and he stepped out into a pressing current of travelers, pilots, crewmen, steveadores, clerks, inspectors and more. In possession of a droid's programmatic patience, It0 slowly navigated the throngs of bodies, gradually making his way towards his specified docking bay.

The bay was teeming with as much activity as the rest of the spaceport, bodies flitting back and forth between a variety of space craft. Shuttles, fighters, civilian transports, cargoships were all there, their engines humming in tandem and creating a chorus of resonant whines. At the bay's far end, a curious ship drew It0's momentary attention. The glossy silver of the hull's titanium exterior stretched and spun the hangar's ambient lighting, illuminating the small starfighter like a wish globe. The droid could find no record of it's likeness in his databanks, though that was not altogether surprising. A surgical droid's factory-issued knowledge banks were not exactly brimming with esoteric starfighter specifics.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Ow! Look out would ya?!"

"Kriffin' DROIDS!"

It0 turned to identify the source of commotion. The word 'droids', uttered in anger, sent the repurposed 2-1B's manipulator to his blaster's grip.

@Trini Halrixien
@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

A spaceport! Given that ZeeZee was pilot droid, that would be the most logical conclusion. Not that he knew that before this moment. Only question remained was which airport Trini had parked her ship at. Coruscant had a vast selection of possible landing zones. One could assume which one was closest but it was better to ask than run endlessly and be wrong. Corran turned to look back at the furry alien only to witness her running on all fours, front and backs legs synchronized together. He'd never seen a sentient being move like that. It was mesmerizing in a way. A quick shake of the head tossed that innocent curiosity out of his mind. "Where is your ship? Which spaceport?"

With the new heading in mind, Lieutenant Velt would double-time it in that direction but the Amaran would eventually take the lead. Good thing too because she needed to lead the way. Even if they ended up at the spaceport, the runaway astromech could be anywhere. Heading for the ship, yes, but who knows what else that droid could be up too. "Trini," the blond ranger huffed, "don't you have a tracker or something?" If such a thing existed. It would certainly help pinpoint where ZeeZee had gone and how far ahead it was.

Corran's only hope was that they could catch the astrochmech in time.

@AutoFox

 

[Trini Halrixien]

Trini blinked up at Corran as she bounded along behind him, before shaking her head, mentally chastising herself.

"We landed at Lina Soh Memorial! A few blocks from here!" She answered, pointing. "Pad 1677-A4! Mid-level!"

By this time, Trini and Corran had utterly lost sight of the droid. Looking up, however, Trini caught sight of a white flash inside an ascending municipal turbolift. It was indeed heading toward the spaceport. At Corran's second question, she turned back toward the human.

"Kriff... not really! I don't own Zeezee, I just found him! Not as if he's got a restraining bolt, or-"

She blinked, as if suddenly realizing something.

"Wait, the ship!"

------------------------------​

ZZ-4A4 had never moved so fast in all his days, as far as he could remember, and he could remember quite a bit more now than he had in a very long time.

In truth, he wished he couldn't.

Failed. Failed! The droid thought to himself as he zipped through the crowd, thin smoke rising from the patch-job Trini had done on his motivator. Krayd is dead. He must be. Maker, I won't let his death be for nothing!

The turbolift doors opened, and Zeezee was the first out, zipping through the crowd as fast as his abused servos would take him. Organics and mechanicals alike scurried and jumped to get out of his way, and Zeezee muttered apologies as he went. Abruptly, however, his photoreceptors caught a silver gleam. Yes, there it was, the Silver Bolide! It would take him where he needed to go...

Momentarily distracted, Zeezee crashed jarringly into the legs of a medical droid at near full speed, spinning out and tipping onto his side. He gave a noise of helpless frustration, wheels spinning in the air.

"Frell! Somebody... please help! I must get to that ship!!"

@TerranSteel @Tic

 

[It0]

It0's pivot was cut short by an abrupt collision that sent the medical droid tumbling to the docking pad's duracrete surface. Gingerly sitting upright, he found himself faceplate-to-dome with an unusual looking astromech droid. The boxy little fellow lay prone on one side, wheels spinning impotently and it's cranial turret jerking frantically side to side.

"Frell! Somebody...please help! I must get to that ship!" it wailed.

It0 steadied his own balance processors before helping right the panicked astromech. Their kind were as susceptible to bouts of worry and fret as any other being, but in all his years of service this was as frightened a droid as he had come across. He felt a confusing pang of sympathy and frustration streak through his heuristic processor. The plight of his mechanical brethren was proving ever more intolerable to It0. A droid in such a frenzied state suggested a sense of programmed obligation to the point of stark terror.

It0 was functionally aware that such thoughts and projections were not his own. His time among the Droid Gotra had shaded his opinions on droid-organic relations. But that did not invalidate the hard truth that sat trembling before him. He stooped to meet the pilot droid's lolling photoreceptors with his own.

"Easy there brother." he said. "Are your components intact? That was quite a tumble!"

He placed one manipulator on his own torso sheath.

“I am 2-1B serial number ‘IT-721X-00-079-21B’, designation ‘It0’.” he continued. "Can I be of service? What's this about a ship?"

@AutoFox @TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Lina Soh Memorial spaceport wasn't exactly close. It wasn't far either, but Corran was starting to feel that burning in his lungs from extended running. His athletic ability relied more on endurance and strength than speed. Unfortunately, that didn't necessarily help when chasing after a droid that didn't feel fatigue like organics. Knowing the location of Trini's ship, the blond ranger made a rounded turn at the next cross-junction towards the public lift system. One of the stations was nearby and it would get them pretty close to Lina Soh Memorial. The furry alien up ahead shouted something about her ship but in the hustle, Corran couldn't make out anything else.

Huffing and puffing, the blond ranger finally reached a public repulsorlift that would send them hurdling upward to the Mid-level. Others rocketed up or plummeted down with countless passengers coming and going. He wordlessly motioned for Trini to hop on and followed behind her with a limp and holding his side. Really should have stretched before running at a dead sprint for so long. With the press of a few buttons, the elevator began to rise from the urban depths. Lieutenant Velt placed his hands behind his head to open up his chest and take deeper inhales. After a few moments of this, he glanced down at Trini. "What was that about your ship earlier? Did you think of something?"

With a pleasant chime and soft-voice announcement the doors slid-open and revealed a walkway that to the immediate left led into the spaceport. Without a moment's hesitation, bounded from the elevator. A quick flash of a badge sent pedestrians patiently waiting for a repulsorlift to jump aside in surprise. Worry began to set in even as Lieutenant Velt ran through the wide entrance to Lina Soh Memorial. If that droid had found another way to get off-world, all this would be for nothing. Hopefully that motivator or whatever slowed it down. "Do you see ZeeZee anywhere yet? Or your ship?" He called out to his Amaran companion.

@AutoFox @Tic