Briana squatted down on her haunches, handing her little sister a circuit board. “C’mon Bast, I know you can make it work.”
Bastila, all of four and three quarters with her riotously chestnut curls and large, sea-green eyes, sat on the floor of their playroom that was enormous enough it could have easily housed a small Coruscanti flat, surrounded by various bits of broken droids and other parts. Briana and Brandyn had done most of the scavenging (the latter having been bullied into agreeing by Briana), digging through the families discard bins and refuse for parts of droids that’d broken down on the Estate over the years.
And because it’d been Briana’s idea, Blaire emphasized, repeatedly - they both worked together on the mechanical assembly, each rather gifted when it came to anything electronic - each always trying to out do the other, always fiddling with this thing or that, forever experimenting with whatever hardware they could get their hands on.
Bastila’s role? Well, she'd been the most important part of it all. Bastila was beyond being merely gifted, and on another level entirely; something the triplets had figured out after Bastila managed to make some of their broken toys work again. From there, they'd had her completing all kinds of little jobs, all to get her ready for this one today. She could fix things so they worked—even without knowing what they were. A most useful asset to her siblings, indeed. Plus, she was still young enough that if and when the adults came looking, she was the perfect scape goat. Bastila would undoubtedly suffer a much lighter sentencing than the older three would.
Carefully, the board was plugged into the small Frankenstein droid.
“Who's going to push the button?” Briana asked, looking between the four of them.
“I’m not doing it.” Blaire said immediately, backing away.
She looked expectantly at Brandyn who almost moved forward, but seemed to think better of it - having been on the receiving end of one-too-many of his sisters hair-brained ideas. Much to her annoyance. “Nu-uh.” his arms folded. “This was your idea.” he grabbed Bastila’s hand who almost waddled to her from her spot, effectively keeping the most easily influenced of them in place.
Briana’s lips scrunched to one side.
Sure, her idea that all of them would be benefiting from.
A glare was passed between her three younger siblings before stepping forward to the little droids silver and white scorched body, pressing the power button and watching as it shivered awake, its golden eyes whirling and adjusting to the new world around it.
It made a rattling noise, but only just a bit, wobbling back and forth on its rolling legs before finally finding its balance.
“Good morning, young master and mistresses,” it greeted politely, “How might I survey you?”
Not bad. Briana thought, a small mistake, in the grand scheme of things. It was more promising than their other attempts.
“Good morning, droid!” Briana said with a grin, trying to sound as grownup and authoritative as possible. “Firstly! We’d like you to finish our homework.”
“Very well young mistress.” the droid agreed as it began its roll toward their school table, extending its patchwork arm to pick up one of their books before it froze in place, its body sagging and ultimately softening in on itself, promptly dropping to the floor.
Just a minor set back, they coul-
Without warning, and making all four jump - a loud 'pop' echoed through the enclosed space, the droids overhead door flying off and a quick flash of light exploding from its interior as a thin plume of smoke drifted out.
Briana grimaced, her gaze panning up at the blackening ceiling as the ventilators and sprinkler system kicked on. Cautiously she walked towards the broken droid, looking it over and giving it a gentle nudge with her foot. “That was a bust...” she murmured quietly, sighing. “We better get this cleaned up before one of the grownups arrive or else we're dead meat.” Briana turned to her siblings, only to find herself greeted by an empty room, of all but a very soaked Bastila.
And if it were even possible- appearing in the doorway, faster than any Jedi Master, stood their aunt Alora. The sight of her made Briana breath a sigh of relief...while still being internally mortified. If anyone were to find her in this mess, she'd prefer her aunt over either one of her parents. Her mother, especially.
“Auntie!” Bastila squealed excitedly, jumping from where she sat as she rushed over to their aunt who scooped up her littlest sister in one fell swoop.
“Do you want to explain to me what happened?” Alora asked, a pointed brow raised at the eldest Sal-Soren.
You have two eyes, don't you? Briana thought, but didn't dare say.
“I wanted my own droid.” Briana explained carefully, her cheeks flushed red with darkbrown hair stuck to her face. There was no point trying to lie about it when the evidence was smoking right next to you.
“You mean you wanted your own droid that you could use without anyone’s permission.” Alora quickly corrected. “Why aren’t you allowed to use the droids whenever you want, Briana?”
She groaned, “So I learn to do things on my own and because it's dangerous to mess with things I don't understand..” she recited the words in a monotonous tone, having heard them over and over again.
“That's correct. What if the droid had done more than just smoke? Do you want to spend a week in a bacta tank?”
“No…” Briana grumbled, looking both annoyed and put upon by the lecture, rather than actually taking any of her aunts words to heart.
“And the sneakiness on top of it. I thought you knew better. What did you think was going to happen? That this hodgepodge droid would be able to take care of your responsibilities?"
“I’m not sneaky,” Bastila said, wiggling a little in Alora’s arms to get her attention. Alora smiled, holding her all the more securely. “Not even a little.” she agreed, “And I’m going to make sure your sister doesn’t make you that way.”
“But they all helped!” Briana finally protested, stamping her foot.
“I see no Brandyn or Blaire here, Briana.” then turned her gaze to Bastila. “Did she get you to help her with this?”
“She sure did!” Bastila answered, full of innocence and sincerity.
Traitor.
