Misfits of the Fringe

Droids Galore

And me, with only one restraining bolt.

Like a kid in a candy shop.

Okay, as far as assignments go, this one was actually quite enjoyable. It began with a call from Durga, saying that he would need Alister to do some collections work. Pretty routine for a Hutt, really. Durga had recently purchased a mine, and was awaiting the first deposit of funds, but the payment never came. So, he hired us to go retrieve the credits. Said that we could keep 10% of what we brought him.

When we arrived at the mining facility, there was nobody there to greet us. On the bright side, that also means nobody was there to attack us. And then, I saw it. Lying in a heap of scrap metal, thrown away like common trash, there was a little Treadwell droid. He had obviously been scavenged, as he was missing his spot-welder, arc wrench, and one of his manipulators. It breaks my heart to see people discard droids so callously. Even if they’re not organic, they’re still sentient beings, and this little guy obviously needed some help. The crew was adamant about talking to the administrator of the mine first, though. So we headed inside.

What we found was nothing short of macabre. Bodies were strewn about the facility – all of them posed. Some at chairs, some at tables, and one poor guy stuck in the ‘fresher. And then Dax got one of those feelings – the kind that usually means there’s about to be trouble. Obviously, I couldn’t tell the others exactly why, but I warned them to be on alert. We cautiously searched the complex for any survivors, or for answers.

Our first such encounter was in the dining area, where a chef droid was making fresh, hot food. Delicious, tender bantha steaks, as a matter of fact. And he was using lots of spices, just like I like. Even though it probably wasn’t the most appetizing scenery, we couldn’t help but to take some of the meals that the droid was offering. After eating jerky for days, a real steak looks incredibly good.

And it was. SO good. Just like Mom used to make. Merci didn’t want hers, so Dax and I divvied it up. Seriously, it was the best meal I’ve had since Corellia. I knew that we couldn’t just leave him there, and I had wanted a cooking droid for the longest time. As much as I love dinner (and lunch, and breakfast, and elevenses), I’m not the best cook. I spent more time in the yards than in the kitchen. Priorities, you know. Plus, the droid was all mixed up about what had happened (he’d been serving food to… deceased gentlemen… for several meals, without realizing they were no longer among the living). Since it looked like he’d need some reprogramming no matter what, I put a restraining bolt on him and had Caine lead him to the ship.

Since we had to go to the ship anyhow, I went back outside for that Treadwell too. I couldn’t just leave him like that, waiting to rust in a garbage heap. I scooped him up and we dropped the droids off on our shuttle. Then, when we returned, we continued our search. There were lots of empty quarters, both for the overseers and the miners. When we found the control room, there was a protocol droid with a restraining bolt attached. We removed the bolt, and he introduced himself as 3D-4K. He had no recollection of what happened, but he said that he was an administrator for the facility, and after some persuasion, he provided us with all the information he had. While he was distracted, Dax sliced into the surveillance systems, and pulled up footage from two days ago.

Turns out there was a droid revolution, of sorts. Which became even more apparent when, while trying to get an astromech to repair a sabotaged storm generator, the little tin can opened up a blast door to a room filled with armed B-1 battle droids. I blasted one of them, but there were at least a dozen, so we turned and ran for the exit with the protocol droid in tow. Dax, Caine, and I returned to the shuttle, while Alister and Merci ran for an abandoned ship that we saw on the security feed. We managed to escape, but just barely. And then the other administrator droid hailed our shuttle and launched into a tirade about miners and the droid uprising. I wanted to go back for the miners’ sake, but there was no way of knowing if there actually were any humans left alive, and we didn’t have the firepower to overwhelm all of those battle droids.

So we returned to Durga. 3D-4K brought him a briefcase full of credits (168,000 in fact), and Durga was ecstatic. We got our 10%, as promised, so we ended up 16,800 credits richer for our troubles. And, on top of that, Caine even sweet-talked Durga’s majordomo into selling us that chef droid at a steep discount. I couldn’t be happier. I can’t wait to stock that tiny little galley of ours with as much steak as it can hold.

If I can start my day with a home-cooked meal, that’s enough to keep me going.



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