Somewhere on Bogano
Beedee peers out from his hideout on one of Master Cordova's dusty trinket-lined shelves as two stormtroopers desecrate the old Jedi's former workshop, kicking over boxes and smashing shelves.
They've been doing this for cycles and cycles now since their arrival and Cal's capture—amidst hours and hours of endless griping. Beedee is quite certain there's not a single inch on Bogano left unexplored by the Empire.
But the real question is: where are his friends? Where did that scary lightsaber lady—the Second Sister, Cal had called her—take them?
"What did we do to deserve scavenging duty, huh?" One of the stormtroopers asks his friend, who's busy tossing empty jars in the air and attempting to shoot them before they hit the ground. He's a terrible shot.
"I don't know," The second trooper replies, launching another one in the air. It shatters to pieces against the rock floor. "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" The first one says, spinning around defensively. Another pile of rocks and precious artefacts go careening to the ground.
"Ah, what does it matter?" The other trooper sighs, waving a dismissive hand around. "We'll be departing soon."
The first trooper straightens. "Really? When?"
"Don't you listen to orders?" The second stormtrooper snorts. "We're finishing up and leaving by the end of this rotation. Our transport's already on the way."
"Great. I can't wait to get off this rat-infested rock." The first stormtrooper hefts a shiny ore in his hand. Chromite. Beedee recalls finding that one on Allyuen, with Master Cordova. "Who does all this stuff belong to, anyway?" He tosses the ore up and down. A chuckle comes from his vocoder. "The Emperor?"
"Don't joke about that," The second one says seriously. "And I'm not sure, but one of those Jedi, from the looks of it."
"Hmm." The stormtrooper tosses the rock back on the table and gestures around. "Were all Jedi such hoarders?"
The second one snorts again. "I don't know. Just...get back to work, alright?" He points at a crate by his feet. "Remember, we still have to fill this thing with interesting stuff before the transport takes us back to the Fortress, and I don't want to get stuck with overtime with you."
"Now that just hurts my feelings."
The Fortress? Beedee's sensors perk up at the word. The Fortress. Master Cordova's Padawan, Cere Junda, mentioned that place before. It belongs to the Empire. His friends might be there.
According to his programming, there's no doubt about it: he needs to go to this Fortress. Cal's friends would be there, waiting for him. Cal would be there too. And if they're in trouble, that sounds like a job for a BD unit. Immediately, Beedee generates a new objective: to find his friends.
"By the way," The second trooper says after a stretch of silence, "Did you hear about what they're doing on Coruscant?"
"You'll have to be more specific," The other trooper answers, holding up a glossy vase to the light. "There's always a lot going on at Coruscant."
"Very funny," The trooper snaps. "But seriously. I heard they recruited a new Inquisitor."
"Really? Another one?" His friend asks, interested. "Doesn't Lord Vader keep killing them off?"
The other one lets out a chuckle. "Yeah. Must be why so many go in and out." He shrugs. "Less work for us, I suppose."
"Yeah." A pause. "What's this one called?"
Another shrug. "I hear they call him the Twelfth Brother."
——
When Beedee finds his way into the big, white transport that arrives for the stormtroopers by the end of the rotation, the first thing his processing unit gathers is just how ugly the Imperial ship is. It's big, clunky, with two protruding wings that fold up like a Shyyyo bird—but a lot less gracefully. It's nothing like the Stinger Mantis.
It's nightfall now on Bogano, but that doesn't deter him in the slightest. He has his headlights, after all, and night vision installed in his photoreceptors. Along with everything he needs to make the journey to the Fortress.
The stormtroopers—bucketheads, as the Latero pilot Greez Dritus likes to call them—don't even notice as he sneaks around the ship. They hadn't even realised when Beedee followed them in, hopping in one of their massive crates filled with Master Cordova's treasures.
And while he may not know what's going on, Beedee's processors have just enough intel by now to predict two possibilities. One: His friends are gone. Probably captured by the Empire. And two: this ugly Imperial transport is, as of now, his only ticket off Bogano. Towards his friends.
Beedee's intel is confirmed when he finds a scomp link station, which he plugs into to reveal the ship's travel logs. The most recent one comes straight from Nur, one of Mustafar's moons. Master Cordova's Padawan, Cere Junda, had mentioned it once. If her intel is accurate—and Beedee knows it is—it is an extremely important site for the Galactic Empire.
From there, his processors have an easier time calculating where he needs to go next. He runs the calculations in his head, then performs a scan of the ship. There's a corner just under the cockpit, a little space where a BD unit like him can tuck away and go unnoticed.
There's commotion coming from the back of the ship now. A heat scan reveals that the stormtroopers are back, hauling along crate after crate of Master Cordova's treasures.
So Beedee hops off the scomp station and hops over to the corner he'd picked out. It's a little dusty and neglected, and there are crumbs of an unidentifiable origin just beneath his appendages—not that it matters, of course, not to Beedee. A moment later, two pairs of black boots appear in his direct line of sight and settle down barely a metre away.
The whine of engines warming up begins, and a rumbling starts up below him. Then the mumbled conversation of preflight checks and switches being flipped and the crew settling down in the passenger deck.
Finally, the rumble of the engines grow louder, and the ship pushes off Bogano's rocky, grassy terrain with a conclusive sound. Beedee gets the feeling that this transport's departure marks the end of something—the end of what, though, he isn't exactly sure.
He's only a buddy droid, after all, and he has a new objective ahead:
To save his friends.
YOU ARE READING
Careful with that thing; it's been though hell
Fanfiction"Just give in," A cruel voice murmurs in his ear. "You were always weak. What's one more failure to you?" But he can't. He won't. He's Cal Kestis, Jedi Commander of the 13th Battalion. Jaro Tapal's Padawan. And he will keep fighting-even if it kills...
