Strange Droid

[admiralchiss]

When the Stormtroopers returned to the Admonitor, they had a box with them, claiming that they got a good deal on it and thought the Grand Admiral might appreciate it. Opening up the box had revealed a droid, but not like any Thrawn had ever seen. While he'd seen droids within the Empire, none were quite this human looking. The lead Stormtrooper, Commander Balkin, said that he felt Thrawn might appreciate it as an art piece or collector's item. Balkin said that the seller hadn't known what world the droid came from, or what culture made it.

Thrawn accepted the droid and took it back to his office. The droid wasn't like any he'd ever seen before, even after cross-referencing various models dating back to the Clone Wars. He'd even looked at droid models from the Sith Empire and Old Republic, and it matched none there either. The strange synthetic skin was interesting, as Thrawn could see no real reason for it. Perhaps it had covered the unit's entire body once.

Thankfully, Thrawn had figured out which wires went where within the droid, and had found a way to hook it to a battery that would give it enough power until it could recharge itself. After some fiddling, Thrawn managed to boot the droid up.

Comments

[detectivetoaster]

The last time he'd powered off, Nick had expected it to be his last. He had expected his consciousness to fade during a barrage of system errors and for his body to be tossed out into the garbage once and for all. That wasn't what had happened. He had found himself awake in periods. Unable to move or speak but able to see what was around him.

For a time he'd been a museum's relic there for people to gawk at. He remembered flashes of tourists looking in on him, children tapping on the glass case he'd been displayed in. Then he'd been sold to a rich man and his family where the man himself spent hours trying to repair him.

Nick was half sure parts of his skin had been lost during that part of his scattered history due to the rich man's unsteady hand in trimming the damaged parts. Of course his skin had been damaged for a long time so perhaps those bits would have flaked off regardless.

Then another museum for a few years followed by a sale to an artist who had called him the clockwork detective. The artist had been good at taking care of what was left of the skin on him. She'd also gotten him new threads that she called befitting of a man of his station. Though he couldn't say it he missed the patchwork trench coat he'd originally been wearing. Though the artist had put that into a box that she'd slid into the bottom of his display case. At least his hat still sat slightly askew atop his head.

Then there had been a long period of darkness. Nick wasn't sure whether to call it sleep or if someone had just switched his off button.

When his awareness returned he was somewhere new again and it wasn't the garbage dump he had expected.

He glanced around the room, vaguely aware of the person who he assumed might have been his latest buyer. He moved his fingers, first the ones on his left hand and then on the right. Something felt different. His awareness felt a little more solid. Less like he was all out of energy. He moved a hand to over his stomach— half expecting to find his wiring hanging out. It did feel as though they had been messed with, the flow of energy was different.

"Who...?"

Better if he found his bearings before worrying about anything else he supposed. Especially since it had been so long since he'd even been able to move at all.

[admiralchiss]

Thrawn watched the droid power on, noting the eye movement, the way the synthetic skin conformed to the droid's face. The amount of articulation on the face was unusual for a droid, as even protocol droids had a solid plate molded to look like a face. Humans usually found droids easier to relate to if they had some semblance of a face. This, though, this one had moving eyes, a moving mouth. With some work, and new, more realistic skin, it could possibly even pass for a human.

"So, you still function. Most excellent. What is your designation?"

[detectivetoaster]

His brows furrowed slightly. So the man in the room was his new owner then. He was different from the museum curators, the rich man, and the artist. Sharper. There was an intelligence there far from the regular run of the mill person. And from the look of his outfit, Nick guessed military or navy. He wasn't sure— the uniform was unfamiliar to him.

"The name's Nick Valentine," He replied, since that was the only name he knew. Maybe this man wanted his serial registration number or something but Nick wouldn't even know where to start looking for that. Hopefully he wouldn't be taken apart to have his pieces scoured for answers.

"What's yours?" He asked, his tone coming out perhaps a little sharper than he had intended it to.

[admiralchiss]

Interesting. His voice was much smoother and more "human" than was typical of a droid. Even the droids who were programmed to speak Basic had a certain robotic quality to the way they spoke. The accent wasn't one that Thrawn was familiar with either.

Nick Valentine was also a very human name.

"I am Grand Admiral Thrawn, and you are on board my ship, the Admonitor, currently on patrol in what is commonly referred to as the Unknown Region." Not what the Chiss called it, or what Thrawn privately called it.

[detectivetoaster]

Thrawn. Admonitor. Unknown Region.

None of those things made sense to him. Didn't sound familiar. He had an idea of his name and a vague idea that he was far from home. Had a vague idea of his career too before he'd been this. It was mostly flashes though. Memories that didn't quite feel like they were his in quite the same way as his time as a display piece did.

He tested the movement of both hands again and moved to stand to test whether or not he could. Nick didn't approach Thrawn though he was still watching him.

"Can't say any of that rings a bell."

He patted the pocket of the coat he wore. Empty. Something was missing there too.

His metallic hand went to the top of his collar, feeling that a few buttons there were open.

"... Were you rooting around in my wires?"

[admiralchiss]

"I had you hooked up to a battery so you could recharge," Thrawn replied. "A previous owner may have also been careless with you, and I had to rearrange some things within you. If you require it, the ship has a robotics bay. We may have to take a sample of your artificial skin if we are to replicate that."

Even the way Nick Valentine moved wasn't exactly like a droid. Most droids tended to be stiff in their movements, and only advanced combat models, like the MagnaGuard model, had truly fluid speed and movement. Valentine wasn't like that, though. He wasn't a cyborg, though, for initial scans showed that he had no amount of organic tissue.

[detectivetoaster]

"Suppose I'm lucky it hasn't all flaked off," Nick said, the corner of his lips twitching up into a slight smile. He reached up to run a finger along where the synthetic skin had torn away from the back part of his head and he shifted his jaw much the way that someone organic would when their jaw was stiff.

He patted at another pocket. Not there either. Perhaps in his old coat.

"I shouldn't have happened to come with accessories, should I?" He asked, tone not quite jovial but still not quite as grave as it had been, "A second coat, perhaps?"

He remembered the artist. Remembered that she'd kept it.

Of course he couldn't be sure that this man had bought him from her, from someone else, or had just found him on the side of the road somewhere.

[admiralchiss]

"You did, actually," Valentine was clearly searching for something, some personal item.

Moving back to the box the droid had arrived in, Thrawn took out a folded up coat and hat, and returned to Valentine, holding the items of clothing out to him. A droid who wore clothes was a curious thing indeed. There was no need for warmth, and most droids weren't programmed to have a sense of style, unless an owner chose to customize them.

[detectivetoaster]

"Suppose I should be happy they weren't thrown in a different pile of garbage than I was."

If that was what had happened to him.

He took the items from him, shoulders sinking in the exact same way they would for a human being reunited with something familiar. Something that was theirs. The coat was rumpled and patched in places and obviously old much like he was. But it was his and it was sentimental.

Reaching into one of the pockets he pulled out a pack of cigarettes that was slightly dented and the labeling faded. There was also a lighter.

That had been about what he'd expected.

He used practiced motions to pull one cigarette out to put to his lips and then hesitated, "You don't mind, do you?"

[admiralchiss]

Thrawn eyed that cigarette curiously. "Very well. I ask that you not get ash on the floor, however."

Thrawn would sometimes indulge in a cigarette, but not often, and he took measures to make sure his office didn't smell like smoke. Technically officers weren't allowed to smoke on Imperial ships, though it was an open secret that some ships had designated smoking areas, or that some of the higher ranking officers did so in their private quarters, and they would be cleansed of the smell before inspection.

"What purpose does doing that serve? I checked and you have no throat, nor do you have lungs."

[detectivetoaster]

Nick made a soft noise that might have been gratitude as he lit the cigarette. Much like the pack itself, the cigarette wasn't in pristine condition and no organic would likely bother to even smoke it. And of course all it did was smolder as he held it between his lips.

Even so his shoulders lowered in the ways that a nicotine addict getting their fix would.

"It just feels right to do."

He'd always done it he thought. Sometimes he remembered bits and pieces from before the museum. A cramped office. A girl. A neon sign. Sometimes there was a memory of someone in a red coat gesturing with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of something in the other. But nothing specific.

"Maybe whoever made me did it for the fun of it."

Programming him to be jonesing for a cigarette ever so often to go with the look.

[admiralchiss]

"I will ask you to refrain from smoking in public or outside of designated areas."

Thrawn could bend the rules, but he preferred to keep the ship clean. He couldn't imagine that a droid got actual withdrawal symptoms if denied cigarettes, so he figured that Valentine could do without if ordered.

"Is that also why you wear clothes?"

[detectivetoaster]

"Don't know. I've been wearing them as long as I can remember at least."

Nick supposed that Thrawn was his owner now. Something about that thought made him bristle. He should be a free man. But he had spent a long time as property so it could be worse. Had been a long time since he was conscious for it though since he'd been switching on and off at random previously.

Periods of being awake and aware followed by long stretches of time where everything was just black.

"You've had a look under the hood. If I didn't dress myself I'd probably be trailing wires wherever I went."

[admiralchiss]

It had been months since Thrawn brought Valentine on board the ship, and in that time he'd gotten to know the droid better. What little Valentine could remember of his past was fascinating, and Thrawn liked talking with him. Thrawn would present Nick with a problem and ask for the droid's thoughts on it, and together they would worth through the problem. Nick's detective skills were very useful and very impressive.

While he'd kept his promise to not attempt to make Valentine more skin or plating, the techs had formulated an improved sealant and made him look somewhat nicer than he'd been before. Thrawn had even arranged for him to have a stipend.

This day, Thrawn called Valentine into his office, as he often did. Holographic art lit up the room, showing paintings of all kinds. He was particularly focused on a painting of a ruined landscape, showing derelict buildings, overgrown with plant life, crumbling streets, and rusted light poles.

[detectivetoaster]

Life aboard Thrawn's ship was strange to adjust to. It was very different than what he could remember of his life before. Quieter he thought. More hours in the day to just sit and think rather than rush around. Nick sort of wished that he was busier but understood that he could only really be as busy as Thrawn let him be.

He was Thrawn's droid after all.

He did get along with his crew though. And many of them came to him for help solving some mystery of theirs too.

Nick liked that. Not as much as he liked his chats with Thrawn himself though.

He stepped into the man's office, glancing around at the holographic art that lit up the space. Like the Chiss, Nick too focused in on the ruined landscape and he came to stand beside him to look at it closer.

"Feels like I come from somewhere real similar."

Maybe worse. Remembering was still difficult.

[admiralchiss]

"You did mention that you come from a ruined landscape. This painting is not any location in particular. The artist simply imagined what their own would would be like if it ever fell to ruin."

He had sometimes shown Nick paintings of different worlds or landscapes in the hope of helping him recall his homeworld. He'd shown images of jungles, deserts, even a painting of Manaan. Interesting that Nick would find a desolate landscape familiar.

Thrawn turned to another painting, this one of Korriban as it may have looked during the height of the Sith Empire.

"What do you make of this?"

[detectivetoaster]

"I did. Worse than that though. From what I can recall."

Of course with how fragmented his memory was it was hard to say for sure. Could be that he had just lived in a particularly rough neighborhood and didn't travel much.

He tilted his head at the other painting, looking at it curiously.

"Well, I don't think it's pleasant that's for sure. Real uniform sense of esthetics. Foreboding I suppose."

[admiralchiss]

"Unfortunately, many worlds have seen disasters or wars that left them in such a state, and thus makes it harder to narrow down where you originally came from."

Even if Nick had no desire to return to his home planet, it was still a curiosity for Thrawn and might tell him more about the droid.

"That is the home world of the original Sith, Korriban. Currently, it is deserted, and is now mainly valued to archeologists, for its many Sith tombs and artifacts. I wondered perhaps if you were Sith-made, but if this does not look familiar to you, then perhaps not."

[detectivetoaster]

"Were you trying to?" Nick asked, tilting his head to the side. He would like to know too though had less hope than Thrawn apparently. Mostly he wanted to see if any of the people he remembered were still there. Unlikely though given how long it had been.

Place might not even be a ruin any more.

Could be all nice and verdant and recovered by now.

"Can't say it rings a bell, no."

Not the name of the world or the people.

"My creators were human I think. Nick's memories... Well, he was human too. Don't think the people of my original world ever got past their own moon."

Which did beg the question of how he'd gotten where he had.

[admiralchiss]

"Humans who never became fully spacefaring? Interesting." That would narrow it down more. Perhaps they would have to reach to the farthest edges of the Unknown Region, which was risky as it could catch the attention of the Far Outsiders.

"I like a good mystery, and you are quite mysterious."

[detectivetoaster]

"Yeah... Gotta wonder how I ended up this far out."

Maybe some other species had come. Kidnapped him. Though given that he wasn't a person maybe it was more like theft. Maybe he had an original owner out there. Someone who wanted him back. Or at least descendants who did.

"If the mystery leads us back to my creator or an owner, are ya handing me back?"

He felt it was a fair question.

[admiralchiss]

"Perish the thought. You have given me no reason to wish you gone, and had I determined that you were a danger or just subversive to my crew, I would have sent you on your way on the next planet we came across."

Thrawn was glad that Nick was fitting in and wasn't causing trouble, because he liked having the droid around. It was nice to have someone he could have intelligent conversations with.

"I would miss our talks if I got rid of you."

[detectivetoaster]

"Not in the garbage then."

Despite how dinged up he was. But Thrawn was a collector and appreciated art and he supposed he counted. He was unique if nothing else. Possibly one of a kind. Couldn't be sure of that really. Maybe plenty of Nick Valentines had been mass produced.

"And. Ah. Well. I guess I'd miss our talks too."

He seemed perhaps a bit flustered. It had been a while since anyone had said they appreciated any part of him. Had he been capable he might have blushed.

[admiralchiss]

"Not in the garbage." Even if Nick were to become permanently deactivated and couldn't be revived, Thrawn wouldn't throw him away. Perhaps he'd have Nick made into artwork, so he would be remembered.

Thrawn idly looked at a sculpture, made of old recycled metal. On the surface, it wasn't anything in particular, just a jumble of scrap, but Thrawn could tell that it was supposed to be a rancor.

"I have even considered making you a part of my investigations unit, to help root out smugglers, pirates, or suspicious activity."

[detectivetoaster]

"Well I'd appreciate the work. If you don't mind sending this old antique out there."

If he had a job beyond being Thrawn's conversational partner then there was plenty more risk for damage after all. But he would love to get back to being a detective if he could.

"Though I suppose it's not necessarily a field job."

Even if Nick would like it if it was. Thrawn probably wasn't as down with risking him like that.