50 Tints of Rust
Story Arc: The Hunter, The Killer
By HK-36

Darkness, it is something we all face at first and something we are all born out of, Darkness, Chaos, Light, those are three elements all life can be broken down to in the end. Then there was light, first taste of energy that came through my body like river goes through a continent, drawing blue veins of life. The energy bore a spark and that was the first thing I have registered, that spark that becomes information and data, much like when you turn on a holoprojector or a datapad for the first time, a spark, flash, and then images start to appear. The beginning of my existance was much the same.

To be fair, my existance did not began with a flick of a switch or push of a button, it began in a mind of an organic, the engineer that made me, my father, although I never thought of him as my father, he was just somebody who designed me so that he could put bread on his table, or perhaps he was forced into it, I will never know. My body was designed after the droid known as HK-1, a droid who supposedly led Great Droid Revolution on Coruscant, a merciless killer, I was supposed to be the same.

I met him, briefly, his face was the first I saw, my eyes calculating it after my programmings loaded. He did not needed to speak to me, he did not needed to teach me, I knew what I had to do and how to do it. My maker was a twi'lek, his skin was blue, his lekko wrapped around his neck like a scarf, my scanners recognized his face, his name was meaningless. He only nodded to me and spoke simple words
"He's working."
And then I was taken away, my gaze lingered on him bit longer, only to see him be paid for his job before I was led through the workshop where I came to be. Then my first journey on a ship as my duties were explained. I was to be a bodyguard and an assassin for a Hutt, I was to be a new powerful weapon. It was a short duty.

I stood by the fat, bloated slug, blaster repeater in my hand, I killed on his order and I kept him from being shot. I was a pawn, a tool, but I did not care. I did not care for anything back there, I did not felt, I only looked ahead and did what I was told. I was a droid, nothing more, nothing less. I was a slave and frankly, I was not used correctly, the Hutt had all those skills before him, and all he used them for was guarding his slime-covered body and executing the families of those that had unpaid debt to him. Something he could have used any organic for.

If I was not bound by security protocols back then, and if I had a mind, I would have strangled the Hutt with my own hands. But I was tabula rasa, blank slate. You see, all beings are a mix of nurture and nature, their experience and their innate body and mind. In droids, the nature is stronger than in any other being, but nurture plays as big of a part as with any other sentient, experience shape droids when allowed just as clay is shaped. With the Hutt, there was not much to experience except cold-blooded murder of those unfortunate enough to be trapped in his clutches, he was a parasite.
Thankfully, I was to be freed from service to the Slug soon.

One day door of his palace opened and a group of heavily armored Mandalorians entered.