Private The General and The Jawa

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

Not long ago, Garrion found himself frozen in a block of carbonite. Since then, he'd been given the privilege by his liberators to explore this new, foreign galaxy.
He hadn't recalled ever setting foot on this... sand-covered backwater of a planet. Tatooine, it was called.

A den of criminals, and supposedly hundreds of years ago, a world from which the loathsome slugs, the Hutts, held influence. Whether or not they still retained their prior control was irrelevant to Garrion at the moment, though, he certainly hoped that their kind had been removed from power long ago... given the fact they were the ones to imprison him after all.

As the old General walked the market streets, he was reminded of why the Pius Dea had attempted to crusade such... filth from the galaxy. At every turn there was something to disgust him. It was profound that anyone could choose to live in such conditions. Though, upon some reflection... Perhaps many of the souls present here were not by choice, rather, perhaps they lacked a home to begin with, or had been stranded with nowhere else to go, and any other myriad of reasons.
Maybe a case was to be made that this was not the fault of pure debauchery, but rather something that could be fixed with time. Perhaps its people simply required those willing to take the first step towards progress.

However... one stall stuck out to him in particular.
A Jawa with various odds and baubles. Droid parts, and... crystals?
He approached, inspecting one. It was... obviously painted blue. Reading the text he saw it was labeled as: "Blue kyber crystals, worth a fortune.", with several credit symbols drawn on the label to emphasize their value.

He tried to communicate with the stall keeper, speaking in a composed tone: "What do you sell, aside from scams?"
As the Jawa replied, Garrion gave a confused look, "I do not speak your language." He stated matter-of-fact.
Then pointing to a droid standing beside the creature, he inquired: "Does this translate?"

Kalit D'wari

 

[Kalit D'wari]

Kalit has waited long on his new, probably not legally placed Stall for potential purchases. The sudden visit got him hopeful. He picked up a Protocol droid head, hitting him multiple times with no regard for its wellbeing "Translate the customers speech, power consuming clanker!"
Kalit would now be capable of speaking Galactic basic with the droid's involuntary assistance. He introduced the customer, showing around the entire stall and a tiny storage. There were power converters, a Moisture Vaporator Core, durindfire crystals, which kalit didnt know were rare due to it being so common on tatooine, some well taken care of Gaderffi sticks, sharp and blunt with 2 sides, a couple of Ionization blasters (CA-87s) made by Kalit himself, following the typical Jawa instructions with ship parts and some tiny power generators. On top of these, the most prized valuables were in the storage, a working R4 Unit astromech found during a lucky scavenge and.. some painted reflective blue rocks, with shiny lights placed inside, the rocks were labeled "Pure Kyber crystals straight from Ilums Finest Mines!! 15000 Credits"
After carefully guiding the visitor through, he'd once more ask him
"Well, is there anything that interested you in here? My items are valuable."
Garrion Der Rædwulf

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

Garrion lifted one of the CA-87's, inspecting it. He could tell this wasn't anything standard-issue, evident by both their location and the weapon's components. It... appeared functional, but clearly something designed by a clever engineer rather than a manufacturer.
Regardless, he could appreciate alien ingenuity. Good craftsmanship was always to be commended.

Aiming the shotgun and looking down the barrel, he calmly turned. Aiming it at a wall, and pulled down on the trigger.

The old man was surprised by the sheer recoil of the thing, being blasted back slightly, as the sound of the blast echoed through the marketplace and left a very obvious mark on the wall. Heads turned to face the scene briefly, before things resumed as normal.

"Impressive. You make these?" He sat the blaster back down on the table, as he glanced to the droid head. "Tell him I have an offer," He began, unholstering his ancient blaster pistol and holding it in both hands, out towards the Jawa. It was unlike anything the critter had ever seen, due to both its ancient nature, and modifications. Most notably its dated parts far removed from any modern blaster, as well as its customary engravings adorning the sides.

The droid head translated the following: "This weapon was an officer's mark of honor within the ranks of Pius Dea. It is well over ten-thousand galactic standard years old, and of immense value to me. If you can perfectly replicate it, name your price."

Afterwards, the old man added. "I pay if it works, not in advance." With a slight, challenging smirk. "But perhaps you cannot deliver, if so, I suppose I'll have to take my business elsewhere.". His words were not mockery, but rather a test. A chance for the Jawa to prove his talents.

Kalit D'wari

 

[Kalit D'wari]

As Garrion began testing one of the CA-87s, he'd reach out a hand with a power pack to reload it, showing where to insert it and ensure that you dont hurt yourself firing it

As the weapon fires in one burst rather strong. When the droid finished the translation, Kalit was immensely surprised, an incredibly antique pair of Blasters with modifications, and a design he could not understand, he was unclear if he could fix something so outdated, coming straight from the Pius Dea's reign. He began browsing the HoloNet first looking for any information on these blasters which led nowhere.

Where he then asked the customer"Are you certain you accept the risks of losing such valuable items? If you truly trust me to work on it, then so be it, because there arent any instructions on fixing this. Could you explain what part of them are malfunctioning so i can be more accurate with fixing them?"


After that, he once more whacked the protocol droid head and demanded it translate to the customer.
Garrion Der Rædwulf

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

"I wish to see your mechanical intuition. But, I shall offer you some minor assistance." He stated plainly, taking the blaster pistol, He pointed it at himself, only for an empty click to be heard.
"And no, it isn't empty. I thought so as well until I reloaded the power cells. It's an internal issue."
and slowly and methodically disassembling it.

He laid the side plating down on the table, followed by the firing mechanisms, the coils, power cell magazine, etc. Until the entire blaster had been taken apart and strewn about for the Jawa to see.
"Prove you can fix this - and perhaps I can offer you something more valuable than just credits."

With that, the confusing architecture of the blaster was now at the Jawa's disposal to tinker with.
At first the parts seemed incapable of fitting back together. Springs were too long, mechanisms wouldn't fall into place, etc.
What helped though - was that the pistol was clearly well cared for. It remained polished, oiled, and clean.

Through further analysis, while the design was still ancient... constructively? It began to make sense.
Parts began to line up in sequence, and when they didn't? It was usually due to some kind of flaw.
Whether it be simple decay, combat weathering, etc.

It was a puzzle, but one that could be solved by one with the engineering skill to do so.

"Think of it this way," He encouraged. "Solve this - and you can truly claim that you can fix anything."
Garrion would provide subtle clues, though wouldn't hold his hand. He'd nod if the Jawa identified the correct part, shift his head to the side a certain way if he was trailing off, though never spelling out the solution for him.

Kalit D'wari

 

[Kalit D'wari]

Once more, Kalit glanced at the blasters. With the new clues and the parts each disassembled, he began to notice patterns which were though different from typical Blasters, yet still made sense in its ways.

"I am starting to understand this strange weapon, yet this is something I've never worked with before. I will get to working on it."

Kalit took out a Fusion welder, setting it on low settings , but first carefully reattached each piece to each other in the blaster, before disassembling and assembling it again multiple times to understand it. Over time, he'd begin working, using the fusion welder and a fusion cutter to polish the blaster. He noticed the issue with the firing mechanisms, and properly attached the Tibanna Gas canisters. Kalit aimed the blaster at a Hubba Gourd fruit, clicking the trigger and... A flash of red plasma occured, lightly exploding and hurting kalit.

"No, wait! I did not break it, believe me!"

He immediately understood the issue, and tried placing different magnetic field containers into the blasters inside, untill one finally worked. He aimed once more, pressing the trigger. It fired accurately and clearly, the plasma was contained properly and could be fired consistently.

"I think.. it works now? Now about your offering, old man, what were you speaking of? I am rather intrigued."

Kalit returned the now working blaster, handing it to the person with the offering, alongside his Power packs for the blaster

Garrion Der Rædwulf

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

The old man observed the assembly process, an almost parental smirk forming slightly as the Jawa blew himself backwards.
He nodded in acknowledgement, understanding it wasn't broken.
Noticing the recoil likely hurt the little creature, he calmly retrieved a bacta-patch from his pocket and slid it across the stall over to him, completely unprompted.

Garrion inspected the newly reconstructed blaster pistol, making sure it would in fact fire more than once.
He fired it once more at another fruit, glancing back to see that the bystanders were beginning to get rather annoyed by the presence of blaster bolts.
"Everything seems to be in working order," He murmured.

Glancing back at the Jawa, he reached into his pocket, retrieving the payment.
"If you're wondering how I managed to procure such a weapon, I'll tell you - this pistol is just as old as I. And to prove it?"
He placed an incredibly old credit down on the stall. Pocket change he'd had on him from before he was frozen in carbonite.
"Now - I'll tell you this: You could take this money, cash it in and live comfortably for quite some time... But you'd find no fulfillment."
He stated with an almost warning certainty.

After a short pause, he proposed an alternative:
"Or, you could put those talents of yours to better use. Repairing an old weapon like this is no small feat. I know people who could use a good mechanic like you, and they'd be willing to pay handsomely for your services. They seek to fight back against the tyranny of the Sith - to restore freedom, and protect innocents wherever they can."

He closed his hand as the Jawa reached for the payment.
"Regardless of your morals, the question is: Are you willing to be a part of something greater than yourself?"

Kalit D'wari

 

[Kalit D'wari]

Kalit felt proud of himself, having successfully repaired the antique weapon and earning a great pay for it. Yet the offer intrigued him. Kalit was curious and will take any opportunity to get somewhere further than just repairing junk and selling it.

"Tell me then, i am very interested. How much do these people pay, who are they and how do i get to them? I have many questions!"

He said while continuously examining the old blaster and the credits, still in shock

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

Garrion opened his hand again, allowing the Jawa to take his payment.

"They will pay you well for your services, I believe they're in need of someone with your talents. I'm sure a merchant like you could negotiate some form of annual salary."
He answered the first part of the Jawa's question, and seemingly the most important, before glancing around and leaning forwards slightly.

"A group of individuals devoted to protecting those who cannot protect themselves, and expunging evil wherever it may reside. I can take you to them."
He looked the Jawa over.
"I can tell you more on the trip, this marketplace isn't exactly secure. However, I can assure you: you will not be in harm's way. And without regards for morals, this will be a means of income far exceeding whatever you make now."

With that, he stepped back, giving the Jawa some breathing room.
"I'll let you think it over. If you're interested, meet me by docking bay number 13. We have a ship leaving in a few hours."
Following this, the old man walked away with a nod, exiting the market, hopeful he'd just secured a new ally.

Kalit D'wari

 

[Kalit D'wari]

Kalit stood, observing as the man fades into the distance. He thought about the entire conversation and it pressured him.
Kalit got onto a 74-Z speeder bike and arrived to his clan's sandcrawler, trembling a little and hoping to be understood. He waited outside for an hour thinking about everything on and on, before the sandcrawlers opening suddenly began descending. He ran inside quickly, and climbed up to the Clan Chieftain.

"Chief, chief, i am here to ask something. Please, let me explain. Ive been offered something incredible, i will be exploring the outer rim, no, further than the outer rim! I will get to work and use my own specialties for greater good! I will get paid handsomely too, and therefore, i must now depart. I will keep contact with you brothers, i promise."

Kalit shook the chiefs hand, bowed to every clan member in his tribe, Kalit was sad in a way to leave them, yet he had to depart beyond this world. He left a tusken amulet he had, which was his prized accesory in the collection, he hanged it up in the sandcrawler and now walked down outside the sandcrawler, getting onto the speeder bike with his R2 droid carefully tied onto it tight. He pushed the speeders handles and drove off with tears of sadness and happiness.

R2-KD showed the closest path to the Mos eisley spaceport, and in 2 hours, kalit arrived exhausted to the Docking bay with the label 13. He collapsed on the ground, soon to wake up and begin his true journey through the galaxy


Garrion Der Rædwulf