Private Agitation

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Epicanthix |
| TAG: Corazona von Ascania |


BB-610's week had felt deceptively after he had visited Ilum with his family. The escalating conflict between the Jedi and the Mandalorians had gotten him on edge, and the idea of accompanying the eldest Noble children on their kyber crystal gathering had provided a much needed escape from the stress of galactic war. Unfortunately for him, life had other plans, and his excursion had been met with a premature roadblock when Padawan Ikenna Tahf dismissed him from their trip altogether. No droids, he had said. Not to BB-610, of course, no, that would have met the basic requirements of respect towards a droid -- he'd told the children, right in front of the poor astromech, that he was barred from entering. To say that he was upset was an understatement, and the foreign sensation of anger had festered in him ever since.

He'd not engaged much with anybody, not even Valery, having succumbed to a welling feeling of defeat at the hands of even more prejudice against his kind. BB-610 had tried to keep his mind off of things, but no matter what he tried, his intrusive thoughts kept clawing their way back into the back of his mind until they had suffocated him, flinging him into yet another slump. The droid wasn't even sure he had the energy to talk about it to anybody, much less his family, but unfortunate timing had marked today as another one-on-one night with Cora; something he'd made a habit of ever since their talk on the day of her arrival to Epicanthix, BB-610 had quickly taken a liking to their conversations. Cora was in a unique position of being family, but just the right amount to merit being a touch informal around her, like an elder sibling one would confide in sooner than they would their mother. Whether their talks be about galactic conflict or nothing at all, he greatly enjoyed her company, and he'd never turned down the opportunity to chat with her.

Today bordered on being the first, with him so desperately wanting to back out in favor of wallowing in his ever growing frustration. BB-610 was not strong-willed in many regards, however, and so he hadn't the heart to let her down. A part of him was hopeful, praying that maybe Cora would be the answer he needed, for however drowned out that hope was. He nudged at the door to her room, letting it creak open just enough to reveal him, before pushing it open and rolling in, closing the door behind him.

«Hi, Cora!» he chirped, rolling up beside her. A silent pledge to not bring up his woes, the droid instead focused on the topic he'd originally wanted to talk to her about: fashion. «I brought the datapad.» BB-610 added, sliding one of his compartments open to expose the tablet in question, promptly plucked by his utility arm and placed upon her bed. «I wanted to... try some of them on, as best as I can. You always dress so pretty, so I was wondering if you could... make me pretty too?»

He sounded a bit out of his element, but his words were earnest. BB-610 tapped at the datapad, its screen flickering on to display an entire catalogue of dresses, skirts, tops, and an assortment of risqué undergarments that he had little context of.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

BB-610 would find Cora seated at her vanity, appropriately staring into the mirror as she primped and preened golden locks.

"Bee?" She turned, brush in hand to greet the astromech as he rolled through the doorway. "Weren't you supposed to be on Ilum? What are you doing back home so soon?"

He didn't appear diressed, so perhaps there had been a simple change in plan. Maybe the trip was cancelled, and Valery asked him to-

Cora cocked her head to the side at the sight of the datapad, watching as Bee tapped the screen to conjure images of a pinterest-worthy wardrobe. Picking up the device, she tapped and swiped, scrolling through the catalogue. "You have an interest in – oh goodness, not that." Pale cheeks flushed as a lacey underthing flashed across the screen, which she quickly moved away from. It took a few more moments for her to properly absorb his request. Then she smiled, taking care so that her features would appear kind.

"Your chassis is lovely as it is, Bee." Her tone was light and assuring. "But there's nothing wrong with wanting to try a new coat of paint, of course."

For a Jedi that was supposed to have minimal attachments, Cora quite enjoyed dressing up. She liked sharing that with others, even if giving the astromech makeover presented certain…logistical challenges. Maybe she could dig into Valery's old maternity clothes?

"Is there anything specific that caught your eye that you wanted to try?"

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Epicanthix |
| TAG: Corazona von Ascania |


The astromech tensed at the mention of Ilum, the nasty aftertaste it left eager about creeping back to him. BB-610 averted his gaze, doing everything in his power to stop himself from scoffing; he seemed notably different, but the nature of a droid's facial features - or, lack thereof - proved it difficult to narrow down. Whatever it was, he was seemingly keen on keeping it to himself, as he'd handwaved it with a dismissive «Our plans changed.» and left it at that. He'd stood next to the bed, rolling into its frame as he- tink-- as he- tink-- as he struggled to scale it, giving up with a huff. He peered up at Cora, his optic soft and glimmering, as though to silently ask for uppies.

His core warmed up at her compliment, and should he have had a chest, it would have puffed out with pride. BB-610 nuzzled into her side for the briefest of seconds, bashfully shushing her with a giggle, before pulling away. «I know it isn't... normal for astromechs to wear things, but I was interested in maybe trying on some dresses?» He asked, tone almost pleading as if he were frightened of her disapproval. «You and Valery are always wearing them. I've--"

The droid paused, cuuuuuurving his head along his chassis to glare at the door to make sure nobody else was inexplicably listening. Once content, he returned to Cora, his binary quiet and hush-hush regardless. «Don't tell her, but I have already tried on Valery's clothes before.»

BB-610 turned to the side, his holoprojector flickering to life as he displayed shots he'd taken of himself in the mirror. They were of his Harvest Day outfit, depicting him in smeared makeup, fake eyelashes, and Valery's fishnets stretched across his body. He'd hesitated on showing her, but Jalen had convinced him that nobody worth loving would have judged him for his... unique taste in pastimes. «I wasn't very good at it...»

The hologram blipped away, and he looked at her, wobbling excitedly. «Maybe we can do each other's makeup after!» He squeaked. «Like older siblings do, according to the holovids I've seen.»

Godspeed to Cora if she accepted that.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Something shifted in Bee's body language at the mention of Ilum. Cora took note of it, but elected not to prod the droid about it at this moment. If he wanted to tell her, he would - or whatever was troubling him would be revealed over the natural course of their interaction.

Natural being the operative word.

Cora smiled, patting Bee on the head with a girlish chuckle as the droid nuzzled her. The subsequent projection of his special Harvest Day outfit was…unexpected.

She fought to keep a pleasant expression on her face, but her lips still twitched with laughter that wanted to break free.

Dear Ashla he looks like a two-credit harlot.

"That is…a very creative outfit, Bee. I've never seen rouge used in such an interesting manner!" Her cheerful expression and light tone gave her words the trappings of a complement. "I would love to do your makeup."

Notably, she did not indicate that she'd like the gesture to be reciprocated, but she didn't deny it outright, either.

Rising from her bed, the Padawan drew open her closet doors and began filing her way through an endless amount of dresses. Her wardrobe was the one thing she hadn't been bereft of after leaving for Ukatis, and it remained largely intact after her return.

"How did it feel when you were all dressed up?" She asked, fingers pressing gently against the material of a cream-colored peasant dress that likely cost more than the home they were standing in.

BB-610

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Epicanthix |
| TAG: Corazona von Ascania |


Whatever laughter Cora had stifled had completely gone over his head. BB-610 took her words at face value, a blissfully ignorant coo rumbling at his core with a content giggle. The astromech jumped with joy, bweeping excitedly in thinly-veiled anticipation upon the Padawan's departure to her closet. His head swirled along the curve of his chassis, peeking into her wardrobe as he marvelled in quiet 'oooooohs' at the sign of so many dresses. It made every lick of sense, with Cora's position of royalty, but to see so many of them was almost overwhelming.

"How did it feel when you were all dressed up?"

BB-610 mused on a response, knowing full well how to answer yet struggling to pinpoint the exact words he wanted.

Humming to himself, the droid readied himself to reply, but a struggle was seemingly had, his optic narrowing in thought. What was that saying he'd heard before? That phrase? A foreign collection of words for a droid, yet so common was it among organics. He wracked his memory banks, fishing for the last missing piece to solve his puzzle, before finally perking up with a satisfied chirp.

«It made me feel alive.» He replied. BB-610 fidgeted, as though the moment had promptly vanished and he was left unsatisfied once more. Having spoken it out loud, it left much to be desired, with the astromech wishing for a do-over. He was keenly aware of how the galaxy felt about him in that regard, and so it felt perverse to attach that label to him, a construction of steel and circuitry. «It made me feel normal.»

A correction, birthed from sadness. BB-610 hadn't been designed to feel, and every day he felt more and more in spite of it. He didn't have a heart, but he had heart- but was that enough in the eyes of the galaxy? Did he need to bleed for it to count? Were his emotions real? Was he real?

BB-610's gaze hardened, insides knotting in bubbling frustration at the words uttered at Ilum. No droids. Listed among pets and unwanted luggage, as if his sole existence in the moment was contraband.

He shifted his focus over to the Padawan, hopeful for her wisdom. Cora would have the answers, wouldn't she? She was clever. He knew that.

«Cora, am I alive?»

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora hummed quietly to herself as she filed through her collection of dresses, stopping every so often to let her eyes linger on a particular garment for a few seconds. She pinched the skirt of a pink dress between her thumb and forefinger, idly rubbing at the fabric in thought. It was a pretty thing, the same outfit she'd worn to her disastrous engagement party with Horace. A shame that such a nice dress had been marred by such an ugly memory.

Mm, no. Not that one.

She didn't want to present it to Bee as an option either, in case he recognized it - though chipper, he seemed a bit different, and she didn't want him feeling worse.

The astromech's earnest words were tinged with the sort of contemplative sadness that made her own heart sink just a bit further in her chest. Normal? What was normal for someone like BB-610? She didn't know. She'd never thought about it.

«Cora, am I alive?»

His question gave her pause. It made sense, given the direction the conversation had taken, but she was still largely unprepared to give a satisfying answer. She would've preferred Vera or Aris ask her where babies come from.

Maybe.

"Alive?" She repeated, tilting her head to the side as she considered how to respond. The question was weighty, she could tell that much. Something was on Bee's mind, and it likely had less to do with fashion than the droid had initially let on.

Attempting to keep some levity to the situation, Cora turned to Bee, crouched, and held a navy blue peasant dress up to his chassis. The bodice was runched, which would make it easier to fit over the droid's spherical body – that, and she didn't particularly care if this one got too stretched out.

"Is being alive something that is important to you, Bee?"

BB-610

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Epicanthix |
| TAG: Corazona von Ascania |


Much like Cora, BB-610 was equally as unprepared to give a solid response. The droid hadn't expected to be met with a question of her own, much less one that shifted the course of the discussion back to him. On the best of days, it would have been difficult to address, much less when one wasn't particularly thinking straight.

«I'm not quite sure what I think is important anymore.» He replied, his tone earnest in its entirety. There was no sadness present - perhaps a bit of hesitance in initiating the sentence - nor was there any sense of anger. BB-610 spoke what he believed to be true, optic staring at the Jedi. Had that been the correct answer?

The astromech's gaze eventually drifted down to the dress pressed gingerly against his front. Unsurprisingly, BB-610 quite liked it, but made no effort in making that apparent. He had been thrown back into pensive thought, not sure on what to think anymore. His sentience had always been a curious case study-- to some, BB-610 was unlike anyone of flesh and bone, with the capacity to learn and think and feel and grow. To others, those were just parameters to his programming, forever a slave to his code regardless of however free-willed he seemed on the surface.

No droids.

BB-610's gaze was held to the floor. «If I'm not alive, then I don't think I can feel.» He said, his words so utterly empty. «I don't think I'm real. I know people don't think I'm real. People think that I'm property.»

An uncomfortable silence soon followed. His attention never shifted from the floor.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

As Bee searched for the words to explain how he felt, Cora's brow creased in concern. She laid the dress atop the bed, fashion forgotten for now, and rested a hand on the curve of Bee's chassis just below his head.

It was distressing to hear a dear friend talk about himself in such a disparaging way. After her marriage, the pair had bonded through discussing some of the more unpleasant facets of their respective lives.

Cora didn't know much about droids, but there were rumblings about droid rights in the Senate and on Denon, leading to the question of the hour: Are droids real in the same way that organics are?

"Oh, Bee…"

That answer changed depending on who you were talking to. Right now, all Cora could focus on was the utter dejection with which Bee spoke.

"The fact that you're hurt means that you can feel."

Her voice was gentle, weighing heavily with heartache for his plight as she searched for the right words, the right sentiment to tackle a concept that she herself could not fully understand. Droid sentience was a hotly debated topic among those far smarter than she, but matters of the heart she was more prepared to work with.

"Property?"

There was a spike of ire in her tone, wrought out of protectiveness for the feelings and self-worth of a friend. Cora took a heartbeat to smooth out the rough edges of her voice, pulse fluttering rapidly for a few moments more. "Did someone refer to you as property, Bee?"

BB-610

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Epicanthix |
| TAG: Corazona von Ascania |


Her words earned a pregnant pause, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt. BB-610 flinched, silently chastising himself for saying too much; with the loth cat out of the bag, the droid released a deeply held sigh, a warbled droning of synthetic tension. He'd made a promise to himself to not sour the evening with his own frustrations, but it seemed as though BB-610's rapidly growing list of mistakes knew no bounds.

Cora was sympathetic, and while it urged him to speak truthfully, the astromech felt a knot of guilt tying in his core. Maybe he'd spoken out of line, he thought. His friend spoke gently, reassuring his woes, but BB-610 was not so easily swayed - for as long as a part of him wanted to show the galaxy how angry it had made him, Cora's consolations went partly unheard.

«That's what it felt like...» He replied, bordering on a whisper. «I wanted to be with the kids when they earned their kyber crystals. But I couldn't,» His tone was defeated, with bubbling bitterness that carried his next few words. «Because the Jedi said no droids. Not to me, but to Vera, and Aris.»

The droid's optic narrowed, a seething anger birthing a dismissing scoff. «Like I was their pet. Like I was contraband.»

BB-610 whined, bringing his gaze back up to Cora. Droids were difficult for many to read given their unchanging faceplates, but he had always worn his emotions on his sleeve. He was hurting.

«I have done so much for the Alliance; I have almost died for people. For you, when we first met.»

Silence fell upon the room, with the droid so eager to hold his tongue. But he couldn't. Not anymore, at least.

«If only I were a Jedi. Then maybe people wouldn't just see me as a joke.»

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Bee described what had happened on Ilum, how he'd been dismissed as a thing while Vera and Aris went on to obtain their kyber crystals. The frown that gently creased her lips deepened as he spoke.

Crystal hunting was a sacred experience, so it made sense to her that those who weren't Jedi would be turned down from the exercise - but telling Bee that wouldn't help assuage his pain. Perhaps, if the Jedi who'd dismissed him had spoken carefully - and directly - to the droid, Bee's feeling of rejection wouldn't have been as severe.

Regardless of what or what had not been spoken, Bee's hurt was real.

"I'm sorry," She said softly, sliding her hand atop the droid's head. Her thumb stroked metal in slow circles, unsure if the gesture would be soothing, or even felt. Cora had never attempted to comfort a droid before. "It's an awful thing to feel like others see you as less than. That Jedi spoke carelessly."

Cora wanted to tell Bee that he wasn't property, that he'd wasn't contraband or a joke - but she couldn't speak for how others saw him, or do his feelings a disservice by insisting that it was all in his head, or that he'd taken some offhand remarks too seriously. Some things just hurt.

"I've always looked to you as a friend, Bee. And in battle, a reliable partner. You've been very gracious during the times that I've been…" Her face scrunched at the recollection of losing her lunch all over the poor droid. "…less than graceful."

One memory flowed into another, this one less messy and more sobering. The pair of them sitting atop a grassy hill, finding a sense of kinship in the abuse that they had suffered from others.

Her smile trembled just slightly as Cora pulled herself back into the moment. The hand at Bee's head slid down to his spherical body, the other joining on the opposite side of his chassis as she wrapped her arms around him the best she could.

"You deserve respect, Bee." She whispered.

BB-610