STAR WARS: Knights of the Old Republic

Chapter 17

"Are you sure this is the best course of action?" Bastila asked as they entered the small droid shop. The shop was clearly meant mostly for repairing droids as there were tools and parts scattered about with several workshops set up.

"No... not completely," Venar admitted, looking about at the disorganized shop. "I just... something is telling me we should give this a try. After all, if a peaceful approach doesn't work, we have Canderous." The Mandalorian simply grinned in response.

After a few moments an old Ithorian man came walking out from the rear office. His long flat head arched upwards with two beady eyes extended in a hammerhead formation on each side of his face. He spoke through two separate mouths on either side of his neck that gave off an odd hollow quality to his voice.

"Welcome to my shop," the Ithorian said in his native language, "I am Yuka Laka, how can I help you, Master Jedi?"

"Greetings," Venar said, "We heard you have a droid for sale that speaks a sand people dialect?"

"Oh yes," Yuka Laka said, "Well at least that's what the droid claims. He's quite a stubborn one. Something in his programming. Bit of an odd model, never quite seen a droid like him before."

"May we see him? If he can do what he says he can, we're interested in purchasing him."

"Certainly," the Ithorian said and brought them over to the far corner of the shop. In the corner, stood an orange droid of a make and model none of them recognized. It appeared its armor was made of a surprisingly strong alloy, as evidenced by some blaster scoring in some areas.

"Droid, " Venar said, "What is your designation?"

"Answer: I am HK-47," the droid responded in a warbled mechanical voice. "Query: are you meatbags here to purchase me from the insufferable Yuka Laka?"

"Meatbags?" Venar asked, an amused smile creeping over his lips.

"Clarification: meatbags equals squishy organics."

"I see," Venar said with a chuckle. "What are your functions?"

"Recitation: I am programmed for a variety of tasks, Master. They include but are not limited to the facilitation of communications and the termination of hostilities."

"Um what?" Carth said.

"Annoyed Clarification: yes, facilitation of communications. I am fluent in over three million forms of communication and am quite capable in translation so that dim-witted meatbags like yourself may understand despite their overwhelming... meatbaggery."

"Charming," Carth responded.

"I like this droid," Venar said chuckling, "I really like this droid."

"Reciprocation: I must admit I myself am most pleased by the prospect of you as my Master. I am most eager to engage in some unadulterated violence."

"Say what now?" This time it was Venar's turn to be confused.

"Correction: Err ah of course Master only if you shall require such services. I only meant that you seem like the sort of person who might require a droid with proficient combat capabilities."

"Right... you are able to speak sand people aren't you?"

"Boastful Proclamation: Of course, Master! After all I am of top quality construction and programming. I can perform whatever you require, just get me out of this dump... please."

"How much for the droid?" Venar asked.

"Nine thousand credits," Yuka Laka responded. Carth let out a low whistle.