Jake P.O.V:
I followed Kado through the cluttered shop, weaving between dusty shelves stacked with random bits of tech. He led me to the back, where a tarp-covered section was barely illuminated by a flickering overhead light. As he pulled the tarp aside, I got my first look at the droids. Three pit droids, their metal frames covered in dents and grime, stood lined up against the wall. Next to them was an old, beat-up astromech droid—more of a rust bucket than anything. Its dome was cracked, and wires hung loosely from its side panels like the guts of a mechanical corpse.
I squatted down, inspecting each droid with a critical eye, mentally cataloging what needed to be done. "Okay," I muttered to myself, "the pit droids aren't too bad—mostly cosmetic damage and a few busted circuits." I poked at one of the pit droid's loose joints, and it sagged slightly. "One of them's in way worse shape, though," I mused. It's probably best to salvage that one for parts and focus on fixing up the other two.
I turned my attention to the astromech. The damage here was worse. I pried open one of the compartments on its side and whistled softly. A lot of its internal electronics are either missing or ancient. I quickly realized that just getting it operational would be a challenge, let alone upgrading it. Still, I felt a thrill at the prospect of the work. I already had a few ideas bouncing around my head—how I could improve its processors and integrate a more efficient power source, if I could find the right components.
"Uh, Kado," I said, turning to him. "Where are your tools?"
He gave me a curious look, and I suddenly felt a random flash of panic. Oh, right. I don't even know the names of any of the tools here. I might have some instinctual sense of how to use them, but I had no clue what to actually call them. I scratched the back of my head awkwardly. "I mean, do you have... um, your workshop tools somewhere?"
Kado's brow furrowed for a moment, but then he shrugged. "Yeah, they're in the storage room. You'll find everything you need in there," he said, gesturing to a small door to the right. "Just don't break anything you don't need to."
I nodded, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Got it."
Turning back to the droids, I started to map out a plan in my head. Okay, here's the deal, I thought, focusing on the task at hand. Cannibalize one of the pit droids to get the other two up and running. They were simple enough that with some decent parts, I could make them more efficient and even give them a few performance tweaks. But the astromech... was a bigger problem. It wasn't just damaged; it was practically outdated.
I'll have to find or build new parts for this one, I mused, my fingers tracing over the exposed wires and cracked circuitry. It was going to be a long process, but the challenge was exciting. "Alright," I muttered to myself, feeling more focused than I had in ages. "Let's see what I can do."
A few minutes in, and I was already knee-deep in the guts of the most damaged pit droid. Its components were surprisingly simple once I got them open. I quickly familiarized myself with the layout of its servos, circuits, and processors—making mental notes of which parts were salvageable and which were total junk. Robot... no, droid, I reminded myself. Better to use the local slang, blend in more.
Once I had the first pit droid fully dismantled, I moved on to the second, carefully replacing broken parts and wiring it back together. It was a mess, but not nearly as bad as the first. As I tinkered, I began to think about efficiency improvements—tighter and efficient wiring, more robust joints, streamlining the power distribution. My hands moved quickly, almost instinctively. I was no longer just repairing them; I was making them better than ever.
By the time I got to the third pit droid, I was in a groove. I had already compiled a few small improvements in my head—a more efficient power regulator, a faster response algorithm, a sturdier frame. These droids might have been considered ancient by current standards, but I could tell, they still had potential to squeeze.
As I reprogrammed the last droid's response algorithm, I caught myself musing out loud. "Maybe I should learn how to speak droid..." I said, half-jokingly. Binary language, or whatever they call it, I thought, imagining how much more useful it would be if I could understand the beeps and whistles myself. It would save me a lot of time troubleshooting, that's for sure.
Finishing up with the pit droids, I stepped back and gave them a final look-over. They weren't good as new aesthetic wise, but I can confidently say they were solid, efficient, and in way better shape than before. I'd boosted their energy efficiency, tweaked their reaction times, and given them a few small upgrades that would make them more useful around a farm or shop.
Now then, how to deal with the real challenge—the astromech droid. I wiped my hands on my pajama pants, taking a deep breath as I turned to face the hunched, lifeless form of the astromech. Alright, what's the plan? I asked myself, mentally running through what I had learned so far. Most of its internals were either missing or so outdated they weren't worth salvaging.
Okay, I don't need to make it look exactly like a brand-new astromech, I thought. As long as it functions the same, who cares if it's a little... unconventional? I could already visualize a streamlined version, ditching some of the heavier components and adding a sleeker, more efficient internal structure. I didn't need to replicate the original design perfectly, just as long as it still did its job.
My fingers were already itching to get started, ideas sparking left and right. If I played my cards right, I might be able to create something even better than it originally was, hopefully. "Alright, old droid," I said with a grin. "Let's see what you're made of." I knelt down, pried open the access panel, and began my work anew.
With the plan firmly in mind, I set to work on the astromech. Using the spare parts from the disassembled pit droid, I salvaged several key components, they're mostly wiring, servos, and even a few specialized connectors that were more adaptable than I'd initially thought. As I carefully rearranged the droid's internals, I started rewiring the power system and optimizing the routing for its built-in tools. I took special care to ensure that everything fit together snugly—no one likes loose cables, and definitely no wasted space.
Next, I decided to go a step further. I repurposed some of the pit droid's manipulators, integrating them into the astromech's internal arm system. I wanted it to have better dexterity and utility, so I added multi-tools—clamps, a welder, a small torch, and a more precise grabber—essentially turning the astromech into a mobile toolkit. I couldn't help but find myself smiling as I work; it felt like the sort of thing I would've loved to have back home—a jack-of-all-trades bot that was both practical and efficient.
I got so lost in my work that I didn't notice Kado and Davik in the background, their conversation hushed but pointed.
"I'm mostly sure he's someone from the Core Worlds, or got the looks of one." Kado said, his voice skeptical and at the same time intrigued. "The way he talks is so prim and proper, then there's the way he handles himself. He's used to fancy tech; you can see it in how he's working on those droids. I'm telling you, Only the core can give you fancy education to tinker like that."
Davik shook his head. "I don't think he's one of those, Kado," he countered, glancing back at me as I made some final adjustments to the wiring. "Sure, he's got that air about him, but he doesn't act like some pampered rich kid. He's too... practical. My guess is he's from a well to do family, but still definitely from the Core Worlds, though not some high-and-mighty rich one. Maybe he's a runaway and pretending to be lost, or the thing is maybe he's telling the truth about waking up out in the desert."
Kado rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyeing me as I pulled a pit droid's sensor module and rigged it into the astromech's shell for better proximity detection. "Well, if he's not a runaway, then he's a fool for not bringin anything," Kado mused. "But he does know his way around machines. Perhaps I can offer him something that benefits both him and us."
Davik shrugged, turning his gaze away from me and back to Kado. "I'm just glad he's actually doing the work. Whoever he is, he's got a talent."
Oblivious to their debate, I focused on finalizing the modifications. The astromech was coming together faster than I'd anticipated. It wasn't going to look like the standard model, but that didn't matter. It would work—no, it would do more than work. It would be better than it was, and that was what counted. I made a final check on the wiring and powered it on for a quick diagnosis. The astromech's lights blinked to life, and I felt a surge of satisfaction as it whirred and beeped—tentative at first, but then more confidently as it came fully online.
"Alright, buddy," I said, giving the newly improved droid a pat on the side. "Let's see what you can do."
As the astromech whirred to life, I felt a mixture of relief and pride. I watched as it rolled to the nearest terminal, plugged itself in, and began interfacing. Lights flashed, and a series of beeps filled the air as it initiated a software update. In just a few moments, it had fully updated the shop's software and manifest, seamlessly organizing Kado's inventory with a speed and precision, I hadn't expected that to work that well.
Swiss, I thought, mentally naming the little droid. Yeah, that name fits him, Swiss. A multitool in droid form.
I glanced up to gauge Kado's reaction. His eyebrow had practically shot up to his hairline, an expression I hadn't seen from him yet. Okay, that's definitely impressed,I mused, struggling to keep a grin off my face.
Davik, on the other hand, looked calm, almost as if he had expected this outcome all along—or he just had an impressive poker face. I couldn't decide which it was, but I was thankful for his vote of confidence, real or not.
Just as I was about to say something, a voice called from the front of the shop. "Kado! Are you in here?" It was a woman's voice, firm and confident judging from the tone. Kado didn't hesitate to reply, his voice carrying back to her.
"Yeah, we're in the storage at the back!" he called out. I watched him wave her in, but I felt a spike of anxiety as I caught sight of her.
As the woman stepped into view, her blaster catching the light, my mind began to race. Panic bubbled up, and I had to remind myself exactly where I was—Tatooine. The so-called hive of scum and villainy from the Star Wars universe. My thoughts scrambled to make sense of the situation. This is Hutt territory, My brain reminded myself, almost reflexively, before my anxiety-filled brain spat out a confusing name: the Hans... no, wait, that's wrong! A moment later, clarity struck. The Hutts. Definitely the Hutts. This is Hutt space.
My heart pounded in my chest as I remembered just how dangerous this part of the galaxy was supposed to be. I was face-to-face with someone who was casually armed, and the weight of that realization settled in like a stone. With a deep breath, I tried to stay composed, but I couldn't help the quick, panicked glances I shot at Kado and Davik, hoping one of them would give me a clue about how to handle this.
The woman's eyes landed on me, her expression a mix of curiosity and scrutiny. My mind spun with worst-case scenarios, but I forced my face into what I hoped was a neutral, non-threatening expression. Come on, Jake, I thought, desperately trying to keep my cool. Play cool, act like you belong or something like that.