Kaili Talith
Forgotten, not gone.
There was something about BB-units lately. Kaili couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but she could only assume that due to some kind of retrotastic implosion somewhere within the universe it would seem that almost the entire galaxy had decided to go back to the more simpler droid designs back from around the time when Luke Skywalker still walked the halls of the Jedi. Not that it truly mattered, the blueprints had long since then gone open market. Granted, by now most of the active units had gotten their insides, their very heart and soul, replaced with more up-to-date hardware. But even so the exterior still seemed the exact same and Kaili just couldn't figure out why.
In the end it was a bit like necromancy, if you really thought about it.
To be honest, the thought would never have struck Kaili until a new customer contacted her and asked for help. The customer in question was one [member="Allyson Locke"] and going by the message that Kaili had received there seemed to be a problem with her BB-unit. As much as Kaili wanted to tell herself she didn’t need to work repairs for a living she still had to face the monthly issue of making ends meet. After all, the market for custom-made droids had never really been a one of those ‘booming’ markets. It wasn’t rare to see the small-timers such as Kaili’s Droids branching out to touch upon the many other aspects of Droid Manufacturing. Some companies sold out and went military-tech, but others -- like Kaili herself -- merely started working repairs.
Not that the girl was going to complain. Most of the time repairing other people's droids and appliances proved itself to be a very good way to increase the size of your list of clientele. All that you really had to do was to stand out a little, and in Kaili’s case that was technomancy. Local reputation had her pinned as a ‘droid whisperer.’ She was the girl who could understand and fix droids without even taking a look at their insides. It was the kind of reputation that made her unsure whether she was supposed to feel proud of herself or if she was supposed to feel bad for using her powers to drive others into bankruptcy.
Perhaps in the end such things didn’t matter either. It was the way that the business worked. Cruel as it was.
By the time Allyson would arrive the door would already be propped open to let the salty breezes of Borleias sweep through the dim-lit shop.
Well, that and to get rid of the disgusting smell that screamed of "Ooops, it seems I forgot to dust off my equipment and open the window for yet another week." It was kind of either/or at this point.
[member="Allyson Locke"]
In the end it was a bit like necromancy, if you really thought about it.
To be honest, the thought would never have struck Kaili until a new customer contacted her and asked for help. The customer in question was one [member="Allyson Locke"] and going by the message that Kaili had received there seemed to be a problem with her BB-unit. As much as Kaili wanted to tell herself she didn’t need to work repairs for a living she still had to face the monthly issue of making ends meet. After all, the market for custom-made droids had never really been a one of those ‘booming’ markets. It wasn’t rare to see the small-timers such as Kaili’s Droids branching out to touch upon the many other aspects of Droid Manufacturing. Some companies sold out and went military-tech, but others -- like Kaili herself -- merely started working repairs.
Not that the girl was going to complain. Most of the time repairing other people's droids and appliances proved itself to be a very good way to increase the size of your list of clientele. All that you really had to do was to stand out a little, and in Kaili’s case that was technomancy. Local reputation had her pinned as a ‘droid whisperer.’ She was the girl who could understand and fix droids without even taking a look at their insides. It was the kind of reputation that made her unsure whether she was supposed to feel proud of herself or if she was supposed to feel bad for using her powers to drive others into bankruptcy.
Perhaps in the end such things didn’t matter either. It was the way that the business worked. Cruel as it was.
By the time Allyson would arrive the door would already be propped open to let the salty breezes of Borleias sweep through the dim-lit shop.
Well, that and to get rid of the disgusting smell that screamed of "Ooops, it seems I forgot to dust off my equipment and open the window for yet another week." It was kind of either/or at this point.
[member="Allyson Locke"]