War between Stars. II
“Damn it,” the former Sunnydale geek cursed. “Look what she did to my droids!” The damage was impressive, and excessive. Twenty of the commandos were in pieces. Andrew suspected he could repair most of them with the undamaged parts of others, cannibalizing off the ones who’s processing systems were completely destroyed.
Which would probably save half. Making there over all count fifteen, as five piloted the shuttles over head during the skirmish.
“Damn Jedi. It’s not like she wasn’t breaking the law in the first place.” Xander was also testy, the R3 and both TC-3PO were in piles waiting for Andrew’s inspection. He’d tried to absorb as much tech info as he could, and did so with relish, but Andrew still outpaced him with the droids.
Xander suspected all three droids were beyond repair. 25,000 creds down the drain.
When Xander & Andrew had first found themselves banished to the Star Wars universe, they’d been besides themselves. Sure, they’d miss their friends. And hoped one day to see them again.
But a bigger part was just excited! Star Wars! Spaceships, droids, alien religious wizards with laser swords. What was there not to love?
And they quickly found out they had much to offer just from their own personal experience. Earth had evolved using a similar, but in some cases vastly different tech tree.
They used lasers instead of projectiles for weapons. Heavy armor instead of kevlar vests, or sappy plates. They could clone whole armies, but no one had thought to clone single organs for donors or cells to combat certain kinds of cancer.
It hadn’t taken them long to start making money, and with that they were soon educating themselves on all the things the movies & books left out.
Then came the purchasing of their Mothership, their droids, everything to really put their plans into motion. And now they were down 10s of thousands of credits because one Jedi wanted to go for excessive property damage instead of a clean escape.
“Confirmation: The Jedi is secure, Masters.” HK informed them, sounding…if possible in that droid monotone, pleased with himself.
“Thank you, HK. Do an overall damage sweep of the ship then give your findings to the T3s. That is, if that Jedi bitch didn’t destroy those too.” Xander said while helping Andrew remove the undamaged arm of a commando and putting it in a pile for later use.
“Acknowledgement: Affirmative, master.”
“We’re gonna need to replace at least ten commandos, the R3 & C-3POS,” looking around the scorched walls, deep laser cuts, and general mayhem, Andrew continued, “and we’re probably gonna need to dock in a shipyard for repairs.”
Sighing, Xander nodded at the growing pile of useful droid parts and the even larger pile of wrecked processors. “Doubling the Droidekas wouldn’t go amiss, she’d have escaped without them pinning her down. And a second HK.”
“Joy. Because what we need is a second sarcastic, homicidal, heavily armored robot.” Andrew whined.
“Yes, actually. As big as a pain in the ass his tude can be, without him calling the shots on that assault we’d probably be in as many pieces as our commandos.” Xander explained.
“Some organic crew wouldn’t hurt either.” The dark haired Scooby nodded at Andrew’s statement, and started making a mental list.
~~~
“I don’t come cheap.”
“Your twelve.” Xander stressed the number, as he was confounded at the pipsqueak who was trying to crew up. After finding a decent spaceport, they’d docked up for repairs and Andrew was looking for any ‘do it yourself’ kits to make a pair of C-3POs.
It’d save them 1000s of credits in the long run, but Xander just had an awful feeling.
“I’m fourteen,” she stressed the number in turn, “I’m also the only one to answer your request for more crew, I’m fully trained with an MK sniper rifle, and ‘I don’t come cheap.’”
Fennec Shand wasn’t much to look at. All big eyes, coltish limbs that she hadn’t grown into yet, and a chip on her shoulder that weighed more then she did.
But she was also the only one to answer their request for more crew.
“Fine.” He waved her on to follow him. “Our ships still under repair, we’ll be leaving in about a day. So grab your gear and head to docking bay A-23. We’ll discuss your duties when my partner gets back.”
“We’ll discuss my duties now.”
Turning, Xander saw that she hadn’t been following him and had to turn around to make his way back to her.
“I’m a mercenary. I shoot who you want me to shoot, guard what you want me to guard, and you pay me for my services. The end. You or your partner want someone to warm your beds, you get a Twi’lek. Those sluts will sleep with anyone for a ride of your ship. Or a sex droid. You wave your member in my direction, I’ll cut it off.”
Frowning, Xander shook her hand. “If we wanted someone to sleep with, we would get a Twi’lek. We want a mercenary because we have people we want shot. You do your job and you’ll get paid. You don’t, we’ll drop you off on the first shithole we find. The end.”
“Then we understand each other.”
God, Xander thought, the chip on her shoulder might even weigh more than he does.
~~~
“I’m C-3PO, human/cyborg relations.”
“Andrew.” Xander said with a bite.
“Xander,” Andrew said with a little smile, “we don’t know if it’s him.”
“My good sir, how might I be of assistance?” The gold plated droid simpered.
“Andrew.”
“Some protocol droids are just….overly courteous.” The gold plated ‘do it yourself’ droid was fully functional. And very very familiar.
“How do you do, I am TC-3PO. Human/cyborg relations.” One of their original droids wasn’t beyond repair after all, though his chest plate & both arms had been replaced from their factory red to a garish gold.
Giving the droid a mismatched appearance.
“Very good to meet you, I am C-3PO. Human/cyborg relations. Terribly sorry about your arms.”
“ANDREW!”
~~~
“That’s a Jedi.” Shand exclaimed.
“A Jedi Knight, to be exact.” Xander said with a grin as his surgical droids took blood, skin, and bone marrow samples.
“Why do you have a Jedi Knight?” The petite mercenary said with what could almost be described as an expression. Almost.
Smiling, he pointed out a computer, who’s readings were recording the DNA and midi-chlorian counts. “We’re mapping the midi-chlorians of Force Users, stripping away any DNA based symbiosis on the original donor, cloning, then running tests to see if they can be transposed.”
“You’re trying to make Jedi.”
Now that, in Xander’s opinion, was definitely a smile.
“How are you keeping her here without having her destroy your med-bay? Do you have her lightsaber? Can I see it?!?” And now she was downright giddy.
He just grinned, knowing from her vantage point looking into the med-bay through a two way mirror that she couldn’t see the small yellow lizard. Ysalamiri were hard to come by.
But not impossible.
“If you eat your veggies, and clean up your room, you can see her lightsaber.” He joked.
“What does my eating habits have to do with anything? And I haven’t seen my room yet.” She frowned in turn.
“It was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“You aren’t funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be. But can I see the lightsaber?”
Why did she suddenly remind him of Cordeila & Dawn? And what a terrifying mix that would be.
