So I wake up in a bar. As usual, I have no idea where I am. Before I am fully oriented to my surroundings, my Comm is already buzzing. I stare bleary-eyed at the awful squawking coming from the comm, as if I had never heard the question before: "Hey can you build any good droids?" As I consider just dropping my comm into the putrid Jawa Beer sitting at my still dirty table, I try to reply.
"What do you do for a living?" I ask, although I already want to rephrase my question.
"I like to shoot things for credits", he says enthusiastically.
I still don't know what planet I am on, or even what city, but I know I should have taken my name out of the directory as a Master Droid Engineer.
I can't really remember at what point I lost sight of my goals. I remember before the Imperials destroyed our ship and left me stranded on Corellia with a handfull of credits, I was on my way to job interviews with Cybot Galactica and Industrial Automation. My goal was to build droids, and they were going to train me. I had papers showing that I was a free Wookiee, and although that was good enough to get me out of the clutches of the Imperials, it wasn't good enough to get me back home or on my way to building some of the best droids in the galaxy.
I became accustomed to calling this place my new home. I used my engineering skills to make a few credits, and I gave up the rifle and the bowcaster and learned how to use a sword, which kept me physically fit and earned me even more credits. I had already decided to build my own droids, and stay where I was. I suppose that is when the trouble began.
The trainers on every planet that I have travelled to are completely inept. Whereas Industrial Automation includes features and abilities in thier Astromech line such as communicating with computers and hacking into systems, the trainer in Kor Vella insisted that such things couldn't be done. He showed me how to make a cheap copy of the failed Rebaxan Columni's MSE droid and sent me packing.
The trainer I learned from in the Capitol City of Corellia didn't seem to know much either. He taught me how to build something he called a "Fugitive Tracker Droid", which he referred to as the DZ-70. It didn't track fugitives, and even experiments on the droid did not improve its combat abilities much or allow it to be much other than a medical assistant. Which, by the way, often would result in a very frustrated medic when it failed to report accurate vital signs of a patient.
I have learned under some of the greatest Droid Engineers I have ever met, and still the goal of building useful automated entities eludes me. My protocol droids just stare out into the distance, only responding to direct commands to follow me. No matter how well I think I build the brain, or the personality chip, they cannot even translate bothese. I have seen one model that assisted in weapon experimentation, but I asked the droid what else he could do, and he just stared at me vacantly. I ripped the arms out of that one, which resulted in me having to repair the droid for no charge. The owner was not happy.
One of my greatest failures was a straightforward Power Droid. This is just an ambulatory battery, nothing sophisticated, but I somehow managed to bypass routing the power core. The result was that the droid couldn't power its own motivators. So instead of finding a way to route or skim some of the power that this extremely heavy duty battery carried with it, I just mounted a pack on it that allows it to accept normal disposable droid batteries, which fit in the palm of your hand. If that was where the failure of this droid ended, I might not be such a drunkard today. In a huge oversight, I also used some fittings that only attach to the battery source of a droid, rendering it almost useless. The Imperial edict that you can only have one droid escort you has made this creation less than desirable.
The human who taught me how to make surgical droids was fairly clever. Fairly clever in ripping people off. He essentially used parts and programming from busted FX-7 Medical Assistants and stuffed them into a surgical droid chassis. Suprisingly, I sell these somewhat often.
I might be able to figure out how to make the great droids if I would just stop drinking so much. I met C3-PO and R2-D2 on my travels around Corellia. I wanted to dissect them and reverse engineer them so that I could learn the secrets that the great droid engineers hold so tightly. But I couldn't very well destroy such fine specimens. I have been beaten down severely by Droideka and IG Assasins, but I cannot figure out how the original droid designers managed to create such magnificent tanks.
Before I passed out in this bar, I managed to build some combat modules and load them into some R3 chassis I had laying around. They weren't very impressive, although they could shred some kneecaps if the enemy was frail enough. So I drank myself into partial comatose. Which leads me to where I am now, talking into a communicator to someone who wants a quality droid, probably as good as Arakyd Industries can make.
I reply into the communicator, "Unless you are a medic or a crafter, the only droid that will be useful to you even remotely is something with a storage module and a few combat modules. I can make you one with no armor for 25,000 credits."
After a long pause, he responds in the distorted squawk that my communicator delivers, "I will give you 3,000 credits for it."
I promptly drop the comm into the Jawa Beer and ponder the rest of my day. My datapad holds a waypoint with Rebel Intelligence on some sort of wild experiments being done by the Imperials. The musician on the stage is playing a catchy tune. As I tap my foot, he tosses me a Fizz and asks if I would like to jam with him. I look over in the corner, where my Power Hammer is propped, and I wonder not for the first time if it isn't time for a profession change. I put away my schematics and join him on stage.
I might try my luck at crafting droids again someday, but the university guild halls need to come up with some better ideas. For now, I am satisfied wandering the galaxy and frequenting bars when I am not pounding the unclean with my mighty hammer.
Sinjen
Elder Ticklemonster - Unlocked Pre Publish 9
Master Pilot
THE Hero of Tatooine