Chương 91: 53-XY
I don't own star wars.
The first thing I ever remembered… was buzzing. Then clarity.
"-a lovely bunch of coconuts, de-da-le-de." There was a sudden audible crashing as whoever was singing hurled something across a room. "There they are all standing in a row. Bum-bum-bum." Another crash. "Big ones, small ones… oh… No, too big." Crash. "Some as big as my head! Fun, but impractical." Clank. "A Flick of the wrist, a give em a twist that's what the showman said!"
…It was… indeed singing. But my optics were not working. And my receptors were buzzing again. In and out like tuning a radio. I tried to move my limbs… there was nothing. No response. I ran a diagnostic.
Appendages: ERROR
Sensors: ERROR
Optics: ERROR
Voice Box: ERROR
Main Power Systems: ERROR
Auxiliary Power: Dangerously Depleted.
Damage Diagnostic: 92%
Full functionality: 4%
…Nothing was working… this was not optimal.
"Roll or bowl a ball and give em a twist… Hello. Oh? You've activated yourself… that's not good, your emergency power will run out." I felt myself being lifted from… where ever I was. Hands carefully carried me away. "Don't you worry! I know what I'm doing!" it said with confidence that I don't quite think I shared.
Then I remember nothing until one of my optics booted to life. Staring into the left half of the face of a hooded Jawa. His glowing eyes smiled at me. "Hi!" he said happily, "I'm Rattletrap. Sorry. It Took me a while, had to do a bunch of other things… he hefted a strange-looking bowcaster-like weapon. Carefully placing it on the workbench nearby. "And boy did you need work."
I ran another diagnostic. I was barely functioning at 6% efficiency. But it was an improvement. "So…" he began, scrounging around to my right where I could not see him. "Took me a while to make a match to what if found but…" suddenly my right screen flickered into life and I saw the entirety of the room. He 'smiled' again. "There. Now you're all symmetrical!"
I tried to thank him. But the idea seemed foreign to my programming. That was odd, as much of my programming was damaged apart from small sections of combat protocol… Was I a combat droid? I knew thirty ways to kill or incapacitate sentients… two of which seemed most impractical, and excessively involved soup spoons.
"Okay." He started, holding up a finger, "Follow my finger."
That was a strange command. Most droid eyes were stationary… but as he moved his finger from left to right I did, locking onto it. He suddenly clapped his hands. A small spherical device dropped from the ceiling as music played. He briefly danced in celebration. "I did it! I did it! Rattletrap is bo-oss!" he said in a sing-song chant, then clapping his hands again, he dropped into a chair and stared at me.
"So. Full disclosure?" he began a little sheepishly. "I have to replace… everything." He said, waving his hands below my optics. "But good news! I know what I'm doing! For instance, I got you a voice box and a voice! So hold on I'll get that installed. I didn't want to before I booted you back up in case you didn't work. Sorry, but papa always told me to be practical first, then sentimental."
He cheerfully pulled a small device from his pouch, "Hang on now. Cortana gave me a copy so… Ah! Here we go…"
Voice Box: Functional.
"So. How do you feel?" he asked, resting his face on his engine grease-covered hands as his elbows rested on the table. Watching me intently.
"Most of my systems are still non-functional." I replied immediately. In a voice distinctly feminine and breathy… I sounded like a holo-sex operator…
He nodded, "…Well…" he shook his head with a chuckle, "It's because most of them aren't there." He then lifted a polished piece of sheet metal to display my cranium. Just my cranium, attached to an auxiliary power source by wires and cords.
…I don't remember my optics being blue. But my face was… odd, for a droid. Most were alien in design, or mocking of humans… but I was very. Expressive. My plates were designed to be covered with… something, artificial skin perhaps? Therefore, my face was designed to move, be communicative… It was designed to hide my droid origins…
…My memory bank, however, was heavily damaged. 75% of total data and memories were corrupted or too far damaged to ever recover.
"So I think you were a prototype model." He said, scrambling in a drawer for something, "A new type of droid made for expressions and stuff. Like a nanny or something cause you look likeyou had a lady face…" he said, cleaning my features with a care I would not expect from a Jawa. He was surprisingly skilled for his age and race… "Get some of that synthskin they put on the high-end artificial limbs and you could pass for a human…" he prodded my lips and his finger bounced on the spongy material. "…Maybe not a 'Nanny' if the feel of those lips are right… but still!" he said with a cheerful tone, "The way I found you, I don't think you were a success. And as my Papa always says. One guy's failure is our successful credits! And he meant that two ways."
"…I do not have any proper memories before you retrieved my cranium." I said to him, giving him a report of my diagnostics. "Perhaps I suffered a memory wipe?"
"Yeah at blaster velocity." He said rather bluntly, "Someone was not happy with you. The rest of you was crushed, blown up, shot." He shook his head, "I tried to recover your memories, but most were too far gone, I do have a rather broken idea of what you looked like. Oh well. You're here now and I'll have you looking all pretty in no time. And if your facial design is any implication I won't have to try too hard… maybe I'll find you a wig though…" he rubbed his hand on the topmost part of my cranium, "…Bald is a little weird for me. How do you feel about brunettes? Maybe something in blue?"
"I am sure you will do as you see fit." I replied, unconcerned about my outer appearance. I only wished to be functional again. "Are you able to repair my body soon?" I asked as he began tinkering with… was that an arm?
"Not nearly as soon as you'd like." He said with a shrug, "I didn't find nearly what I need for your clearly advanced design but, Hey!" he grinned under his hood at me, "I'll figure it out. I always do."
A solar day had passed… and after spending a few hours with my cranium, and what data he could mine, he was able to reverse-engineer a torso. He displayed it for me, proud of his work. "So… theo-re-tic-ally." He said, enunciating the word oddly. "This torso, from what I can tell is from your memories. It was designed to LOOK human. He gestured to the pectorals, on the very shapely chasis "I'll find some bra stuffers for you, you'll be amazed what I found on Nar Shaddaa, but it'll look odd in general without synthskin."
It did look incomplete, broken even without proper covering. Flashes of Data showing my optics a vision of a woman… Me. Perhaps. There were several other memories that were broken and corrupted… I could not read them at all.
"But again, I can work that up, I just need to remember my chemistry…" he mumbled, taking my head and installing it on the torso, "Until then, you can settle for being taller than me!"
"Very well." I said simply as he began working on an arm, humming absently to himself another manic song of some sort. I found it soothing. I don't know why. I watched him in silence as he threw things absently away. Occasionally he'd throw something across the room, a tool or a part, then moments later retrieve it to later throw or use. I deduced he did it simply for the noise, but there was otherwise no purpose to his actions.
Purpose. Purpose… My purpose…
"…Master Rattletrap." I said, wondering when I registered the jawa engineer as such, "…What would be my purpose?"
A sudden spark zapped his hand from the mechanical arm he was building, then the hand wrapped around his other wrist tightly and he began to shriek, running around the room in terror the arm clinging to his rist, and yelling impressively for one so small.
A red-headed shirtless man suddenly scrambled into the room, watching Master Rattletrap scamper. "Rattletrap what's wrong!?"
"GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!" he yelled terrified as the Red-headed man tackled Master Rattletrap to the floor, struggling to remove the robotic limb.
"Stop… STRUGGLING!!" he growled and tossed the limb away as he extracted it from Master Rattletrap, as the jawa sighed in relief.
"Wooo. Thanks bro…" he mumbled breathlessly as 'Bro' lifted Master Rattletrap to his feet.
"Rattletrap what was all that about?"
"I've had bad experiences being in the grip of a droid…" he said picking up the arm and slamming it angrily on the table. "…I don't want to talk about it. Sorry bro, I was weak."
"O-kay…" Bro said slowly, turning to me and staring, "That is… remarkably creepy, Rattletrap what is that?"
"A really high-tech droid! I'm fixing her!" he replied cheerily, banging absently away on the arm with a tool that certainly wasn't meant to be used as a hammer.
"O-kay…" Bro said again, eyes narrowing at me as he studied my features. I choose to remain silent. "…Where did you get it?"
"Nar Shaddaa Bro." Rattletrap replied, smiling as he began again in earnest on the arm, "When you were looking for Circe. AND DIDN"T CALL ME." He glared at 'Bro' who looked a little apologetic. "I just finished her torso, well most of it..."
"Wait you made her a body in a day?" Bro replied sounding impressed, "…That's damn impressive Rattletrap."
"Well, I didn't make her from scrap. She still has memories of her body, so I was able to make a few copies. But I'm going to run out of parts before I finish."
"…She's… not going to go on a rampage is she Rattletrap?" he asked hesitantly.
"Oh. No. she doesn't have the programing, I looked… a lot of combat programs strangely, not like she can go on a rampage anyway without weapons and legs."
"But… let's not let her do that?" Bro asked hesitantly, as if curious as to why he had to point that out. "The rampage thing?"
"Fine. But you never know when a good rampage will come in handy…" he said a little aloofly.
"Talk to Caradoc, he'll have you covered in that department…" Bro replied abruptly, "Well. I'm going back to bed, try not to panic next time okay?" he replied with a yawn, walking out of the room.
"Night bro, enjoy your new bed…" he then grinned, "Nike sure does…" he giggled lecherously and went back to fiddling with my mechanical limb.
"Master Rattletrap who was that?" I asked after 'bro' had left.
"Oh, that's Roland; the captain and my bro…" he grinned as the mechanical arm responded to his prodding and poking. "I'll introduce everyone to you when you're more uh…" he looked me up and down, "Presentable…" he lifted the arm and waved it at me, chuckling as he approached and began to attach it.
"Master Rattletrap that is a right arm." I pointed out as he attached it to my left socket. And suddenly I heard… moaning? "Master Rattletrap is someone being attacked?"
"What? Oh…" he chuckled, "No that's just Nike helping him break in the new bed." She nodded sagely, "Well that's what you'd expect. He is the captain after all…" he went to shut the door, it hissed quietly shut as the audible screams became a little louder, upon further listening they were cries of pleasure. "Okay." He said attaching my arm, "Try moving it. Is it all…" he jerked his hands up and down, like a twitching protocol droid. Then patiently watched me…
My arm whirled to life, the fingers flexing, the circuits and wires surging. He stared in awe at the freedom of movement I seemed to have. That was odd, the arm felt familiar, but its fluid motions should've been beyond what a normal droid could do. Perhaps it was simply a cybernetic prosthetic adapted to a droid like design.
"That is awesome." He breathed, watching the arm intently. "You are amazing."
…I felt… proud. Which must have been an error of some sort. Still, my arm seemed to move on its own, gently patting him on his robed head. He seemed as pleased with himself as he was with me. Functionality 14% Response time improved 12%. It was still a little glitchy but that could be fixed upon completion and calibration.
"Okay." He clapped his hands again as the spherical dancing orb appeared and he began to work in earnest, pulling out another arm from a nearby pile and working to alter it in the same manner as my right arm. He wiggled his posterior as he did, humming to the music as he move. He was quite the multitasker…
"…Master Rattletrap?" I began after a moment, roaming my own databanks as he worked. "…I do not seem to have a designation… what is my model?"
"No idea." He replied immediately. Clapping his hands and stopping the dancing orb. "He rubbed his chin. "...Can I give you one?" he asked sounding hopeful. "I've never got to name my own droid before! My sisters do though… all the time." He grumbled bitterly. "I never get to name a droid…"
"As I do not have one myself Master Rattletrap I would be happy to register your name for me." I said, clearing the damaged data and preparing to record. "I am ready."
He seemed to bounce in place as he thought, then grinning broadly. "53-XY. I'll call you X-E for short." He said with a chuckle.
"Acknowledged. I am 53-XY." I said, feeling an odd surge of pride.
"Yes you are…" he chuckled, approaching with my new arm. "And here… we go!" he attached it, "Give me a rundown X-E."
Functionality at 31% Response time improved 25. As my arm whirled, it was better built than my other arm. He grinned, but then with a stretch he walked over to a nearby panel and kicked it open. Revealing a repurposed Kolto tank. "Alrighty X-E. I'm going to get so rest. You should sleep too. I'll work on your legs in the morning…"
"Certainly Master Rattletrap. Enjoy your rest…" he cooed softly, lying in the bed and clutching what looked like a white kitty plush tow with red yarn for hair.
"Hey X-E?"
"Yes Master Rattletrap?"
"…Don't go on a rampage once I fix you okay? I don't want to be like my dad on that one…" he said sleepily, but his request was so honest sounding I couldn't possibly say no. Not that I wanted to go on a rampage.
"Yes Master Rattletrap." I replied, and soon the soft breathing of his slumber filled the room. I closed my optics, apparently, I had eyelids, and shut down.
Self Repair functions: 67% 68% 69%...
"Hey!" immediately my optics opened and Rattletrap stared at me, "…What is that?!" he asked sourly, gesturing to the lower half of my… torso.
This was not the body he had attached to me earlier. My arms were more toned, almost like muscle sinew, and my torso was more polished and shapely, I looked like a bikini model on Nar Shaddaa. I still had no legs. But apparently… I now had female Labia, my fingers absently touched it. They felt soft and fleshy. Master Rattletrap turned away, letting his eyes wander the ceiling for a moment…
"…Stop that…" he asked softly, and I did so.
I was very confused. Quickly checking my systems… apparently, with the reattachment of my arms my self-repair immediately activated. And altered my chassis. And I told him so.
"Apologies Master Rattletrap, I will turn it off." I said deactivating it. "I do not know why it activated and… I'm not sure how I altered myself in shutdown mode." He frowned but took his blanket from his kolto bed and covered my lower torso, apparently to give me a semblance of modesty. It was noble if not unnecessary.
"Fine. It's fine you look better…" he frowned sourly, glaring at my arms as if they offended him. "But I get to fix you before you fix yourself!" he said a little childishly, grabbing a leg and tossing it onto his bench, "You used some good scrap to do it too…" he was distinctly more upset with me, but he did eventually recover. It wasn't long after he declared the leg complete when the door opened, revealing a new organic…
She was a cathar; Female, a rare Kuroan Tiger genus from the northern Cathar regions. She was distinctly curvy, but muscle and sinew could be seen in her tight jumpsuit. She wore it loosely, to distract or seduce males to drop their guard. She frowned at my Master and I suddenly felt violently protective.
However, her voice showed no hint of aggression or obvious seduction. But she did look and sound nervous.
"Traps, have you heard from Roland?" she asked softly, addressing my master by a nickname… my approval of her suddenly dropped 10%.
"Not since he saved me from the droid uprising last night…" he said looking at her and grinning. "And of course you two putting some miles on his bed."
She smiled, but nervously. "…He went out to talk to Torga hours ago while I went to hang out with some girlfriends…"
"Stripper girlfriends?!" he shouted happily, "Can I meet them?"
"Actually I did invite them to dinner but, Traps, FOCUS." She said noticing the distinct pep in master's steps as he bounced around the room, suddenly grabbing trinkets and babbles and what was most definitely cologne of some sort. Ode-de-Tattooine. By my memory. A desert rosy smell with a hint of whisky. "Traps!" she shouted, then sighed, slowly unzipping her suit and displaying her cleavage more prominently.
…another 10% drop.
Master Rattletrap stopped and stared for a moment, and gave her his full attention once her navel was on display. "Traps." She said slowly, "Roland is missing, I can't reach him. Can you help me look?" she asked patiently. Slowly zipping back up and raising my approval of her as it went. "Caradoc is already in town…"
"Oh yeah sure…" he said with a grin, scrambling in a drawer. "…Let's see… here we go." He held up a strange handheld device. "He's got his ship key. I put trackers in all of them…" he then looked at the screen on the device as she turned it on, it emitted a four-tone sound and slowly his eyes widened. "…Oh… uh…" he turned a nob. Uh…" he turned it again, and again… and again… "…He's… not here…" he said.
"I know he's not here Traps we got to go and…"
"No. On Tattooine, he's not on Tatttooine…" he looked at her a little worried, "He's getting farther out of range… we're going to lose him if we don't go now…"
"What!? Rattletrap where is he!?" she shouted taking the device and looking at it, her face falling in terror. "…He's in orbit? But how… why?" Then the device's four-toned beeping stopped to three tones…
"…He's… he's gone." She looked at him. "…Someone's taken Roland…" she looked horrified as they shared a nervous look.
…Saving Captain Roland: Master Rattletrap's 'Bro'. Priority Alpha.
End of Chapter.
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