chapter 8

Sixteen blessedly quiet and combat-free hours later I dragged myself from the large bed. I spent a couple of moments recalling the events of yesterday, and after the urge to gibber uncontrollably receded, I set about making plans. I cleaned my clothes and dressed.

I was quite good at the spell. Classically, it's said that necessity is the mother of invention. But it's also the big sister of improvisation. Six years of not having house elves launder your robes is a good motivator to learn a good quick 'n' nasty charm that did an acceptable job in getting your clothes clean. Well, less dirty. Hey, I'm a bachelor, no one expects any more than that.

My long-neglected stomach insisted that I brave the fruit in the hovering bowl. The flavours were incredible, ranging from eye-wateringly bitter to gaggingly sweet. Even Dumbledore would have been hard pressed to eat those. But there were fruits that ranged within those extremes and were palatable, even tasty. I ate my fill while pondering on my changed circumstances.

Knowledge was what I needed most. I wasn't just a fish out of water, I was a fish trying to play quidditch. If I was going to be stuck here for an extended period of time (perhaps even perpetually, though my mind shuddered at the thought) then I needed to acclimatise myself.

First things first. I was a wizard, so I needed to know what HK knew about magic, or the Force as he called it.

After an hour or so of grilling, I was beginning to question whether or not I was in the future at all. Maybe I was in some sort of different world. If this was the next great adventure, as Dumbledore described it, then that could well explain why I couldn't summon him.

The evidence for being in a different world was compelling. The Force seemed well understood as a phenomenon, though there were mysteries regarding its origin. And its sentience too, if HK was to be believed. While some aspects were similar to magic, others were wildly incompatible. I would be the first to admit that I was woefully ignorant of the deeper mysteries of magic, but I wouldn't have thought magic would evolve over time. Even if it did, it was unlikely to shed useful abilities and keep useless ones in order to develop others.

I was inclined to believe my droid. By his own admission, HK had been owned by two extraordinarily powerful Jedi. His usual derogatory rhetoric was put aside for the sort of admiration that parents show for gifted children. He had been present for and had observed some incredible displays of power.

The problem with the New World Hypothesis was that I could still use magic. If I was in a place where magic was different, why could I continue to use it as I had always done? It was a bit of a bugger. I resolved to explore the differences between the Force and magic further.

The similarities were interesting. The discipline HK called telekinesis sounded as though it could be mimicked quite easily by combining levitation, banishing and summoning charms. Divination seemed to be just as unhelpful through the Force as through magic, only really helping to understand events as or after they passed, rather than predict them.

Some things were far more versatile with magic than the Force. While something called Sith Alchemy could produce a number of elixirs with various, mainly deleterious effects, there were dozens, perhaps hundreds of times as many potion recipes in just the seven standard textbooks for Hogwarts' students.Other subjects were the opposite - more versatile through the Force than through magic. The mind arts were well represented here. A Jedi could create meaningful illusions; illusions that could be seen, heard, touched and even smelled. A Jedi could read thoughts, view memories, implant suggestions, force compliance, or any of a million other things. And while there were magical charms and curses that did much of that, I got the impression that magic was more of a blunt instrument compared to the Force in that area. Implanting images and manipulating dreams, something that took Riddle months with Legilimency, could apparently be done now with the wave of a hand.

I resolved then and there never to delve too deeply into a Jedi's mind. Not unless they were distracted by being on the verge of death.

Jedi could also use the Force to enhance their bodies, making them faster, or stronger, or their vision better. Potions and enchanted items could do that too, but the Force just made it seem so easy.

The one single power that a Jedi had that was unknown to magic was that of battle precognition. Not divination exactly, but knowing what move your opponent was going to make in a fight. That stood out to me as being the single most useful ability I could imagine.

But after our long discussion, I had to give magic the edge over the Force. It may be parochial, but I just had to - simply due to the variety and scope. I could do things with magic before I started school that were apparently unheard of to the Jedi and Sith. Apparition baffled my droid, though he positively gushed at the possibilities it lent to killing people in unexpected and gruesome ways. Despite the limitations of the language we were forced to use, I got the impression that it was technologically possible to transmit information instantaneously over vast distances. Transporting matter over that same distance was a very different… matter… as it were.

Transfiguration was so incomprehensible that even after demonstrating the discipline to HK he still expressed doubts. Time travel, even just backwards a couple of hours, apparently broke all sorts of physical laws. As did expansion and shrinking charms. Conjuring and vanishing items actually caused him some distress - supposedly the amount of energy within even tiny amounts of matter would be enough to level the entire surrounding city block if it was annihilated.

Nice to know. I wonder why that was never covered in the safety briefings at Hogwarts. Ignorance, most likely. Mad-Eye would probably never have stopped his 'losing a buttock' lectures if it were known that a simple conjuration could wipe out the City of London.

Still, I felt a bit better, or at least more informed, after our little chat. I'd have to experiment with magical shields to see which would work best against a lightsaber, of course. But on the whole, I felt more confident that the next time I encountered a Jedi or sith, I'd put on a better performance.

As for HK, he hadn't spent the time I'd slept idly surfing for robotic pornography.

"Statement: I have done what research I can, limited to the public holonet . It appears that no civilian droid manufacturer uses any design that meets my requirements."

That didn't sound promising, even without understanding the gibberish he spouted in the local lingo. "So you can't use these modern droid bodies?""Answer: Negative. One would assume that a hundred human generations would advance cybernetic design well beyond my original capabilities, but this does not seem to be the case."

"All right, do you remember how to build your body? I mean, do you keep the plans for your body in your memory?" Parseltongue really was a right bugger to talk technically with.

"Answer: Negative. The memory in my head only stores my translation and communication protocols and my audio-visual memory. My schematics and protocols for combat and assassination were stored in high-security memory in my chest."

I didn't catch half of that, but I suspected that even if HK had answered in English I wouldn't necessarily have understood. "Well, where were you created? Maybe your designs will still be there."

HK was silent for a moment. "Calculation: A low probability. Too much time has passed."

"That wasn't what I asked," I snapped. Why did people second-guess me all the time?

"Answer: I do not know where I was created, but there was a manufacturing facility on Telos that mass produced inferior droids that were based on my design."

"Well, if I'm going to find a way home, I need to do research. To do that, I need to learn about this time. Travelling around will let me do that. We may as well go there and see if there are designs there and if they are compatible. An inferior body is better than no body. How far away is this Telos place?"

"Answer: Telos is a world many parsecs away. Depending on the capabilities of the vehicle you claimed from the Trandoshan, it will take many days to get there."

I blinked. "Hang on, what? Telos is a world? As in, a whole new world? Going around a different sun? The vehicle belonging to that lizard fellow is a, a spaceship !?" I exclaimed, the last word in English.

"Clarification: What is a spaceship ?"

"I, er, well, a vehicle that can travel between stars," I replied, struggling a bit for coherent thought.

"Affirmative: Then yes Master, it is a spaceship . Is that surprising?"

What could I say? Sorry HK, in my time the only people able to go into space were obscenely wealthy tourists or employees of government-backed space exploration agencies? That humans had got as far away from the planet as the moon? That we'd not, as far as I was aware, ever made contact with aliens? Now, apparently criminals who don't think twice about shooting someone who bumped into them and spilled their drink in a bar can own a ship with the capability to travel between stars.

My shock suddenly turned into a thought that had me grabbing the arms of the chair to steady myself. I didn't have much in the way of assets here, and while I had no moral objection to stealing, without knowing the capabilities of the local cops it was probably better to do things legitimately. At first at least. "HK, is there a large trading culture between the stars?"

"Answer: Oh yes, Master. The worthless meatbags that infest this world would starve within weeks were it not for the enormous amounts of food imported from off world.""Well then, is it profitable? Are there goods transported from here to this Telos ? Could we buy things here that would fit through the door of my spaceship ? Things we could then sell on Telos?"

"Answer: Undoubtedly. Though the return is minimal with so many competing spaceships vying for work."

A wide grin spread over my face. "What if the ship could carry a thousand times its usual capacity? Or even more. And without adding any more weight?"

HK's voice changed subtly. "Calculation: Assuming limited extra expenses, we would have access to potentially limitless credits . I approve, Master. Scanning holonet for suitable cargo now."

We left the hotel and headed off into the city without bothering the red-skinned fellow. He would no doubt have questions, and it would have been rude to simply not answer them. Better not to give him the chance in the first place.

There were uncountable places for a spaceship to land on this world, but HK had managed to track down the specific one through what he called the holonet . It took us the better part of three hours to get there on the various public, flying trains. Not even the London tube had so many stains and smells contained in one place. Well, maybe except for the Circle line on a Saturday night after the usual tourist pub crawls.

We made our way past the officious officials. My first sight of my spaceship did not give me the expected shiver of delight. I experienced a shiver, all right, but it came at the thought of actually flying in the bloody thing.

"What a heap of shit!"

"Query: Is there a problem, Master?"

I gestured wildly at the ugly, blocky monstrosity parked in front of me. "That thing doesn't look as though it would hold together in a stiff breeze, let alone a trip between the stars!" I hissed. "How does it fly without bits falling off?"

"Statement: Aerodynamics is only of concern to those yet to have encountered the concept of shielding, Master. Though I share your opinion, this is a truly abominable specimen of vehicle design."

Abominable was an apt term. It looked like it had been hastily put together out of gigantic Lego blocks pressed out of solid rust. It looked as likely to fly as a lorry. Well, an unenchanted lorry, clarified to myself. I had inherited the motorbike Sirius used to fly around on after all.

Speaking of, I think I'll use it from now on to fly around here. It would probably attract less attention than a wooden broomstick. It took a bit more preparing than just pulling out my broom, but anything that drew less attention was a good thing.

I wandered around the outside of the monstrosity. Whoever designed it belonged in a home for the mentally disturbed, in my opinion. It was only by spotting what could only be the engines that I managed to work out which way it was supposed to fly.

A hiss of compressed air caught my attention. I turned to see a pair of doors outwards and a ramp within extend like some sort of mechanical tongue. I moved over to the opening, causing a yelp of alarm from a creature at the top of the ramp.

It looked like a midget with a giant, mousey helmet. It burbled in alarm and took off back into the bowels of my ship.

"HK, what was that?" I demanded."Answer: A Sullustan, Master. A species renowned for being even squishier than an average human, as difficult to believe as that is."

"Really?" I hissed with as much cynicism as I could manage. "However do they manage to survive to adulthood while being so weak? Do they have any strengths?"

"Answer: Sullustan meatbags are somewhat more adept at planning out routes between the stars than most," he responded, as though dragging a compliment out of him was an Olympian feat.

I grimaced. "Well, at least we know how to get on board," I grumbled. I carefully moved up the ramp, expecting an attack.

It didn't come. The interior of my spaceship smelled odd; a mixture of biological and technological smells that wasn't grotesque, but was unpleasant. I followed the frightened burbling to the front of the spaceship, where the Sullustan was busy ripping things from a locker and stuffing them into a bag. It held up two hands and squealed something at me.

"Translation: Please don't hurt me. I am leaving. Suggestion: Interrogate this meatbag, Master. His presence aboard your spaceship demands it."

I looked the creature over. It was shorter than nearly every other species I'd seen. Despite my parents' stature, I was only a little over average height. A fact I blamed on my upbringing and the main way I emotionally blackmailed Dumbledore's spirit into answering my questions. Every other individual I'd encountered on Coruscant was at least six feet tall - though using that measurement was probably invalid, given the variety of feet out there. I could actually look down at the Sullustan.

I noodled around in a pocket and extracted a small object the size of a child's top. I placed it down on a checker-patterned round table and ordered, "Ask him what he's doing here."

The flood of squeaks was duly translated, though I had to then put it through a mental adjustment myself, given HK's attitude. I gathered that the Sullustan was in charge of calculating the path between planets for my ship's previous owners. When the first mate of the ship ended up dead in something called a cantina, the Sullustan somehow accessed the cameras around the place, tracking the killer's movements.

That caused my hackles to ripple. And I thought London was bad.

The Captain had felt somewhat belligerent over his employee's untimely death, and so assembled the rest of the crew to hunt the murderer down. They departed quite some time ago, leaving their navigator alone on the ship. Communication with the crew ceased abruptly soon afterwards. The Sullustan had spent the subsequent time fretting. He made sweeping, obsequious and constant apologies for any inconvenience caused and wanted nothing more than to disembark, leave me to my spoils of war, and take up nerf herding, though that may have been HK taking liberties with the narrative.

HK interrupted my musing. "Conjecture: The Sullustan's story does not sound unlikely, though it is impossible to corroborate. It has offered to facilitate the transfer of ownership of this vessel to you."

I rubbed my chin in thought. "Does it- does he want payment for that?" I asked with a sigh. HK's attitude was starting to rub off on me."Calculation: Offering him continuing possession of his limbs would probably suffice as remuneration, Master." After a slight pause, he finished with, "Some of them at least."

I rolled my eyes. "No doubt. All right then, tell him to go ahead."

HK paused before responding. "Caution: I am currently unable to ensure good faith on the Sullustan meatbag's behalf, Master. It may try to double-cross us."

I grinned nastily. "Let him try it," I hissed.

After HK made some presumably grisly threats, the Sullustan got to work, whimpering only slightly.

I kept my eyes firmly on my toy. It spun slowly, and stayed dark. The Sullustan worked quickly, and chattered happily after only a few minutes.

"Statement: It is done, Master. Though without your official identity, ownership of this spaceship is now transferred to the bearer of the token you relieved from the Trandoshan's corpse."

"I'll take steps to make it safe," I replied, mentally running through the various anti-theft charms I knew. "Tell him he can go."

From the speed at which the Sullustan bolted, HK was clearly enjoying himself. Once we were alone, I spent some time setting up wards that would prevent the detection of magic cast within a bubble centred on my ship.

"Query: Master, how can you be so sure that the Sullustan meatbag did not betray your mercy? In my current state I am unfit to perform all my duties regarding the protection of your… ugh… person."

I picked up the magical object. "This is a sneak-o-scope. It spins and flashes the more someone nearby is doing something untrustworthy. I've got another one, but that's a professional grade model - and a bit more conspicuous."

"Statement: Intriguing. Reliance on mechanical contrivances is a weakness you should not indulge, Master. Present company excluded, naturally."

I chuckled. "Naturally. Has the broker for that cargo responded yet?"

"Affirmative: Yes, Master. I am uploading the coordinates for the depot into this vessel's navicomputer. It would be in your best interests to acquire a meatbag skilled in operating this vessel, lest you condemn yourself to a fiery and amusing death."

I laced my fingers and extended them palm-outwards. My knuckled cracked. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. If there's one talent I have, it's the ability to fly just about anything," I replied, unlacing my hands and wiggling my fingers. "Exactly what is this cargo? Are we going to have to avoid people to deliver it?"

"Amused answer: Oh no, Master. Quite the opposite in fact."

I frowned. "We won't have to avoid people?"

"Negative: People will avoid us, Master. This world only produces one commodity of any real value to an agricultural world like Telos. I have noticed in the past that meatbags go to all sorts of lengths to avoid coming in contact with their biological waste."

I thought about that for a second before I made the connection. "Oh. Shit."

Telos was a beautiful glittering ball that looked so much like pictures of Earth that I felt a pang of homesickness that was almost painful. Not that the continents looked anything like Earth; it was the azure oceans and verdant landmasses that struck the chord in my heart.There was an almost eerie feeling, flying a spaceship through the deep, interstellar gulf between the stars. But feeling the ship shudder under my guidance as we entered the atmosphere was almost poetic. I could feel the bulky vessel writhe through the control stick.

Unloading the cargo was simple enough, given that the station accepting the vast quantities of crap was more or less automated. There wasn't someone on duty who would possibly wonder why, or more to the point - how, a small freighter like mine could disgorge many dozens of times its entire volume of processed human and alien waste. Like a petrol station in reverse, the pumps vacuumed up the shit and duly dispensed the corresponding credits. Once enriched, HK bluffed our way past the automated traffic control, and we were off. Off in search of a new body for him.

Flying a spaceship through atmosphere was a lot different from the smooth, frictionless environment of outer space. Especially since the ship was about as aerodynamic as the Hogwarts Express. When travelling sideways.

The runestones I'd placed on the bulkheads to lighten the ship were invaluable for fuel efficiency, but that lack of weight made flying through crosswinds rather exciting. I held tight to the controls, guiding the ship along the flight-path HK had mapped. Below, rolling fields and farmlands continued uninterrupted for thousands of miles.

"Bloody hell, how much food does this planet produce?" I asked softly.

"Answer: From the publicly available data, the last three growing seasons have produced a mean average export of eighty-four point seven four million, million tonnes of various grains and a further nine point eight two million tonnes of livestock."

I grunted. "Huh, that's a lot of food. I suppose that's why they need so much shit. I've scourgified the hold three times and it still stinks back there."

"Commentary: Forgive me if the intricacies of agriculture, fertilizer and animal husbandry do not figure prominently in my databanks." It only took a day and a half for HK-47 to learn to speak English fluently, and yet he somehow managed to put incredible inflections into innocuous words. Either sarcasm was truly universal or my droid was a masterful orator.

The vast, fertile plain beneath the ship drifted past, the height of the ship disguising its speed. "The landscape ahead is changing. The plains are giving way to hills and mountains." I gave a soft snort at the familiarity. "It looks a little bit like the Scottish Highlands."

"Worthless commentary: If you say so, Master."

I started to respond when a powerful cross-wind gust changed my quip to a curse. I glanced at the navicomputer on the control panel. The crash course I'd been given in Galactic Basic had covered enough numbers for me to read the information. "There's only four minutes to go until we're over our target. I can't see anything down there that looks like a droid manufacturing facility."

HK gave an indelicate burst of static. "Observation: I suspect I know more about agriculture than you know about Droid Manufacturing Facility recognition, Master."I smirked at HK's response. "No doubt. Here," I said, lifting the heavy metal head up onto the console so it could look out the window. "Can you see anything familiar?"

"Affirmative: Yes, Master. There has been limited erosion and the terraforming that has been undertaken has clearly been focused on terrain suitable for high-density farming. The coordinates supplied are correct."

I nodded, not having anything better to offer. "Okay then, let me land this thing." I put HK back on the co-pilot's chair and began mentally running through the checklist for landing. Fortunately for a luddite like me, most of the steps were adequately performed by the ship's computer.

I picked a likely spot close to the coordinates. It looked relatively flat and clear, but turned out to be a little less than level once I put the ship down. The rear struts sank deeply into the soft earth, leaving the ship listing a couple of degrees to the rear.

Meh, close enough.

I grabbed HK from the seat and tucked him under my arm. "Are you sure you don't want me to levitate you?" I asked.

"Objection: Damn it Master, I'm an assassination droid, not a balloon."

"Fine, let's go and find you a body and you can start carrying yourself around."

"Statement: Gladly."

I moved through the narrow walkways of my spaceship, marvelling at the fact that I had somehow managed to add to my collection of tools one that allowed me more freedom of movement than any Earth-bound human of my time had ever had. I pressed the necessary control and the main access hatch slid open with a hiss of compressed air.

Immediately, the cooler, fresher air of Telos washed over me. I inhaled deeply, noting a definite similarity with the uninhabited areas of Scotland. It was delicious.

"Query: Do you intend to remain immobile for an extended length of time, Master? If so, I shall shut myself down for a while."

I sighed. "No, HK. Just remembering something. Let's go."

The ground was mostly rock covered with a thick layer of springy moss, not that my feet touched the ground; Sirius' old bike easily fit through the door. Hundreds of tiny insects buzzed around me, frustrated from landing by a repellent charm. One of the things about flying on a high-performance bike or a broom like a Firebolt without protection charms is that running into a fly can seriously damage an eye. And no one likes picking bugs out of your teeth after a quick flight.

I'd landed my ship less than half a kilometre from the coordinates supplied by HK, so it took barely revving the engine once and letting out the clutch before I hovered in front of a rust-splotched, moss-covered metal doorframe set in the side of a rocky cliff face. Whatever door existed all those years ago was gone; it was now open to the elements. So the elements had moved right on in and made themselves at home.

I drifted forward into the doorway. I flicked a switch on the bike, igniting the headlights. Light filled a narrow, descending corridor. It was only the relatively clean metal ceiling that indicated a manufactured history. The walls were covered with moss and vines while the floor was a damp marsh. I idled down the short corridor to another metal door, this one also wide open."Looks like someone else was here a long time ago," I said, feeling a bit glum. "They didn't bother closing the door on the way out." I adjusted my grip on the handlebars and continued on.

"Observation: Or leave anything not easily removed. The remains of the security droids and weapon mountings have been scavenged."

Now that the floor was level, shallow pools of stagnant, stinking water filled room after room. Swarms of insects so dense that they cast shadows on the wall dully buzzed around in my wake. HK identified several areas of the facility as originally having some function - control room, storage, etc., but there was nothing left at all. The building was a hollow shell.

"Statement: The cavern beyond this door was the manufacturing centre. Completed droids were marched into transport containers at the far wall."

I looked around the gloomy, metal-lined cavern. At one point the wall had given way, allowing rocky rubble from the ceiling to pour through. "So that's it? There's nothing here?" I asked.

"Answer: Apparently not, Master."

I sighed. "Well, let's see if there's anything we missed." I drew the Elder Wand and waved it, shouting, "Accio droid parts!"

As the echoes of my voice died away, I could hear muffled, metallic noises off to one side of the cavern. It seemed to come from under the rubble.

"Um, HK? Before that wall collapsed, was there anything behind it?"

HK-47 paused briefly. "Answer: No. There was a guarded storage room at that point, however."

I pointed the bike towards the rubble and flew forward. "So, if you were a scavenger, how would you try to get past a locked door? Explosives?"

"Contemplative: Possibly. A certain sub-section of meatbags have a habit of using explosives whenever possible, rather than whenever necessary. An inelegant trait common in less perfect beings. It is conceivable that ill-placed explosives could have caused the cave in. Especially if they were placed by an incompetent meatbag. Apologies for the tautology, Master."

I laughed out loud, wondering just how well George would get on with my droid. "I've been close friends with people who enjoy a good bang, and I've known far too many incompetents for my liking. Let's see what our scavengers found eh?"

I raised my wand and began vanishing the loose stones and earth. Some neat transfiguration built stone buttresses and braces to keep the rest of the stone ceiling where it belonged.

The door HK referred to was indeed discoloured from insufficient explosives. What remained of the contents before the over-zealous powder-monkey turned up had been crushed by the resultant ceiling collapse. However, I did uncover the crushed remains of a vaguely humanoid droid. At least, it formed a flat shape that was vaguely humanoid.

"Statement: Ugh. How galling that something based on my design was so easily terminated."

I transfigured a stable, flat platform out of rubble and parked the bike on it, above the stagnant waterline. "I take it that this is a compatible droid body?"

"Objection: It is unusable, Master. Fit only for scrap." HK paused. "Still," he added, ensuring that I understood his level of contempt.

I carefully levitated the remains. Bits broke off from even that little handling. "Let's see, shall we?"I cast the same repairing charm on the torso section. It puffed up and out with a scream of tortured metal. As the spell ran its course, what had been a sheet of contorted metal a couple of inches thick now resembled a thick shape attached to a narrow waist.

"Exclamation: Master! I… I don't believe it."

"What, you think I found you in some pristine condition and just needed to turn you on?"

"Tentative query: You performed magic on me?"

I chuckled at the horrified tone. "Yup. This exact spell, as a matter of fact." I cast it again, and this time the sounds of squealing electronics emanated from within.

I got the impression that HK found the noises distinctly uncomfortable. I'd have to keep that in mind.

We recovered an entire body, though the limbs had been forcibly separated from the torso. We left the remains of the head behind. I probably would have taken it just in case, but HK's bitching would have been hard to put up with. Still, I took my time repairing each part, enjoying the flickering in HK's eyes at the noise.

Once back on board, I dumped the bits in the maintenance workshop on the port side of the ship. HK objected, but a cargo ship going off radar and then reappearing was suspicious enough to the sort of people who object to the existence of smugglers. Having scavenged droid parts was a reasonable explanation for the side trip, if any over-zealous bureaucrat decided to try and make my life hell.

We flew back to the spaceport. Locating another cargo wouldn't be difficult, given the mind-bogglingly fertile pastures. The trick would be to pick a planet we could unload it all on with no questions.

HK and I spent several hours buying an entire ships' worth of cargo from numerous dealers to avoid inconvenient questions. I placed light compulsion charms on each to encourage them to remember very little about our transactions after the cargo was loaded.

I took HK to a cantina in the spaceport for a meal. It was heavy on the vegetables and bread, but palatable. Apparently a lot of the people who worked for the corporation that farmed the planet were vegetarians.

The local star had set hours before I got back to my ship.

Where I noticed that the ramp was down. My wand was already out before HK spoke.

"Statement: Master, my sensors detect a single meatbag on board your ship."

I readied my wand and moved forward. The ward schema I placed on the ramp should have prevented anyone with ill intent towards me from entering, but caution was so much a part of my life that it was second nature.

We found the intruder in the maintenance bay.

I looked down at the short, stocky boy, no more than nine or ten years old. He simply sat with his back to the bulkhead, an esoteric tool in hand and working on one of HK-47's new limbs. A picture of studious productivity. Laid out on the worktable was the rest of HK-47's new body; almost completely assembled. Suddenly, he raised his head and gazed at me, no surprise in his eyes. Nor any fear, oddly enough.

" Is this your ship ?" he said in Basic."Translation: The little meatbag wants to know if this ship belongs to you, Master."

I nodded at the boy, having learned from HK that it was a universal sign of acceptance. He looked from me to HK and back to me with a frown. " Can I come with you? I don't want to stay here ."

"Translation: The little meatbag wants to run away with us. Observation: It is another aggravating constant of my existence is that my Master always manages to attract worthless charity cases who do little more than consume resources better spent elsewhere."

"Ask him his name."

" Translation: What are you called, meatbag ?"

The boy narrowed his eyes at my droid, not the least bit intimidated by his manner. "Anakin."

I didn't bother waiting for HK to translate his name. "Ask Anakin why we would want to take him with us," I said with a small smile.

" Translation: What possible worth would a pathetic creature like you be ?"

The boy called Anakin bobbed his head towards HK-47's body. " I fixed and assembled your droid's body for you, but it needs new power cells installed before you can activate it. I'm really good at fixing things. And I can fly well too. I could even fly this ship if you want. "

I looked down at HK after a second or so of silence. He seemed to hesitate before translating the boy's reply; his voice slow and steady. "Translation: The little meatbag claims to have repaired my body, unlikely as it sounds. On the vanishingly small chance it is true, we should consider kidnapping him. A skilled mechanic is worth a great deal. He also claims to be a pilot, though reaching the controls might present him with some issues."

"I'm not kidnapping a child just because he claims that he's a good mechanic!" I spat. "And before you get all gushy on him, for all you know he's taken your legs apart and welded them back together without joints."

"Request: If he has, can you reciprocate?"

I shook my head and sighed, looking closely at the workbench. Instead of the mess of disparate parts I'd left, the metallic body lying on the bench was whole, except for the arm in the boy Anakin's hands. It was tall, closer to seven feet than six in height. Even lying still it looked quite menacing.

I turned to see that Anakin had risen to his feet and was looking at me with serious eyes.

"Contemplative: I wonder if the boy could attach me to the body?"

I pursed my lips, not entirely sure. "Ask him. Politely. But if this goes wrong, I'm ripping you off and waiting until we can find someone a bit more professional." I glanced at the boy again. "And preferably old enough to shave," I mumbled.

Anakin spoke, his voice inflection indicating he was asking a question. " What language is that ?"

" Answer: The antiquated vocalizations are of my Master's home world; a primitive backwater where the natives have barely managed to escape their own gravity well, let alone master hyperspace. The planet's native name is a synonym for dirt, which divulges all you need to know about their technological capabilities. Demand: Now, attach me to my new body. "

After HK-47's lengthy speech, Anakin frowned and looked up at me. He opened his mouth, but thought better of whatever he was going to say. He simply placed the arm back on the workbench and reached out for HK-47's head. " You're going to need to install some protocols before your droid can operate properly," he said. " The torso's memory circuits are so old that they're probably corrupt ."I sighed and said, "HK?"

"Translation: The little meatbag is merely stating the obvious, Master, that I need to locate and install certain protocols before I will be operating at peak efficiency. Demand: Hand me over."

I shrugged and passed the heavy head to my new mechanic. "Your funeral. So to speak," I said.