I was a young, naive, dedicated droid engineer. I started out as a street merchant selling mouse droids to drunks leaving the cantina outside bestine. Just enough to buy a ticket off that rock and start my business in a small village outside of Theed on Naboo.
Things were going well enough, but as my business matured, I needed better quality materials and in larger quantities. This meant venturing out into the deeper wilds and my feeble skills with a combat staff were not enough.
I was checking my harvesters out on lok one day when next thing I knew, I was unconscious and lying on the ground. A fellow Twi'Lek helped me up and introduced himself as Zesa. He offered protection in exchange for some free droids. I agreed and over time we became good friends.
He had bold aspirations of becoming a crime lord in the underworld and someday even having his own city. I told him I was content making droids but I enjoyed sparring with a polearm for sport.
A few months pass. I was in the cantina at Theed talking to some of the locals about business in the area. A zabrak walked in I had never seen before. He was selling droids of comparable quality to mine but at nearly half the price. Ive always been a peaceful person, but I saw this zabrak as a threat to my livelihood and all the hard work Ive spent making connections and building a good name for myself.
I told Zesa about it and he came immediately. I was only hoping to scare him off with a little muscle, but Zesa had other plans. He baited him into a duel and quickly kocked him out cold on the floor. He placed a rose on this zabrak's chest and gently nudged him back to consciousness. He told him if he ever tried to sell droids on this planet again, he'd have 20 bounty hunters making his life hell. The zabrak scoffed. And Zesa killed him. Id never seen that before. Whats worse, it was done for my benefit... or maybe not.. maybe Zesa had an agenda of his own after all.
Word quickly spread that Zesa had a small army of bounty hunters under his thumb and he became feared. I started to fear him as well. We became distant. But business was booming. It got to the point that I had more resources than time to create with. Zesa employed multiple weaponsmiths and armorsmiths, even a few architects. His empire was growing. But I remained the only Droid Engineer. It was starting to feel more like a curse than a blessing. I had little competition. Even the undercutters couldnt compete after a while. I was free to make as many droids in all shapes and sizes as I pleased. But even though I loved my work, I also felt enslaved to it.
The day finally came when Zesa decided to start his own city. I was to be on Dantooine. I was proud of what I had built on Naboo. Foomerang's Droidwerks was a household name around Theed and my factories were always humming. I was friends with all my neighbors and we regularly met at the greasy spoon at the end of the block. Talking business and local gossip. Now I had to say goodbye. Saying no to Zesa didnt seem like a good idea.
Neo Roma was forged out of the side of a mountain in a far corner of Dantooine. Zesa recruited doctors, dancers, tailors, cooks, everyone we needed to start a fresh vibrant city. It was a beautiful location and my new neighbors were friendly. But I missed home. I buried myself in my work for weeks. We had a brand new mall built and I stocked my vendors so full that I didnt need to build another droid for months.
Now I found I had a lot of free time. And I was on a strange new planet. Perhaps it was time I got better with my polearm. I shrugged off my merchanting duties ran into the wild. Hunting Bolmas and Pikets for sport, I honed my skills over the months and became a powerful sentinel. I traded in my engineering uniform for blood red composite armor. I began travelling to other planet venturing into exotic locales. I hunted the fiercest of beasts and won trophies for my skills.
Zesa on the other hand, had become drunk with power. He shifted his focus on politics and the mining business. My absence had not gone unnoticed. I checked in from time to time but my vendors had become bare for longer periods of time. Finally, he confronted me about shirking my responsibilities. I told him it hadnt been the same since I left Naboo. And I found a new passion. I wanted to travel and explore. He threatened my life if I didnt return. I told him I could easily get some of my best competitors to replace me in the droid making business. Any droid engineer would be happy to have vendors in Neo Roma. But that didnt matter. The way he saw it, he made me and he could destroy me, because he owned me.
I planned to leave in the middle of the night. I could fend for myself now, I thought. Someone must have tipped him off because he found me just as I had finished packing up my belongings. He was drunk and fumbling for his pistol, he promised to take my life right there. But he was not prepared for my newfound mastery. I pulled out a long vibro axe and in one, swift stroke... I struck down my once only friend and ally. He lay there, dying. I told him I was done. He promised to send his most vicious mercenaries after me. I knew then, that I had to finish him. So I killed Zesa. He was the first person I ever killed. I put down my polearm and vowed to never wield one again.
I was finished with dantooine...although I missed Naboo, I coudnt go back. Not right now. I needed a fresh start. I went to corellia. I had heard they were training freelance pilots. Sounded great. I picked up piloting easily and in a few short months I was blasting my way through hordes of pirates and earning a tidy profit. It was nice being out in space. Sometimes, I would hover over dantooine and think about those conflicted times. They all seemed so small from up here, where I could fit the entire planet between my ion cannons. It helped me move on.
I had also become familiar with coronet and made a few friends. One friend in particular, Aktar, became both a friend and a mentor. He was quite the collector. In fact, he had an entire museum where he had all sorts of amazing things he had found from all over the galaxy. Displayed in meticulous fashion. He was an excellent crafter. He made a pair of perfect fishing posel and we'd go fishing often, then have some home cooked meals. He taught me to appreciate the art of crafting. I had become so used to mass production, that I forgot the original joy I felt, making custom droids for passers by way back on Bestine.
I picked up my old droid engineer attire and went back into business for myself with a newfound appreciation for the art. Aktar and I became good friends over time and we shared a passion for our crafts. I had a small tent on the grasslands outside Keren. It paid the bills. Which was all I needed. I flew missions from time to time but never picked up a polearm. I looked longingly at Aktar's collection of weapons. He offered some of his best plearms for free but I refused. He asked why, and I eventually told him about Neo Roma, and about Zesa. He gave me some good advice about being true to myself. I appreciated it but still couldnt bring myself to wield a polearm. SO instead, I did the next best thing...I built a Polearm museum. I named it the Pikeman's Study and built it on a small moon called Rori. There I put on immaculate display every craftable polearm, lootable polearm even weapons racks and broken polearms. It helped me find my focus again.
A year passes, and another. Aktar has decided to retire to one of his obscure museums out in the middle of nowhere. He wants to live the rest of his days out in peace and solitude. Thats just the way he was, I pretty much expected something like that from him. He was a good friend. We said our goodbyes and parted ways.
I retired to my study on rori. Staring at my trophies from Kashyyyk and my polearm collection, I reflected on my life at this point. I needed a change. I decided that I needed some risk. Risk on my terms. I still knew one or two fences from years abo that Zesa used to use. I became a smuggler. But not the crimelord, power hungry type. I was the flying by the seat of my pants smuggler. I breathed new life into me. I even picked up my old Sentinel duties and was once again swinging away with a vibro lance. But this time it wasnt pickets, it was thugs and local militia getting in my way. Then the bounty hunters began to take notice. There was no way I could beat these guys. I was outgunned and out geared...on the ground. So i developed a tactic that quickly made me oneof the most hated smugglers in the galaxy. Woe to the bounty hunter that dared folow me out into space. For waiting for them was a fully optimized Belbullab-22 with its cannons humming in anticipation. Drop my bounty, or get blown to bits.
Things went this way for a while. I picked up some shipwright skills to keep my ship up to date with the latest and greatest. Eventually, time caught up with me, and I became too old to play that game.
I recalled in my youth my love for making droids, and my little house outside of Theed. I packed up all my belongings, and moved back to that spot by the river. I tinkered with some droids, made a couple mouse bombs. Went to the cantina but of course all the faces and names had changed. I thought back on all the people I had met. Zesa, Aktar and countless others. My life as a master of my craft in all of its forms. The war between imperials and rebels had waged for years but I never noticed. Now the war was coming to an end and so was my time in this galaxy far, far away. I laid down in my bed and exhaled a lifetime of ups and downs. My story was complete. And it was good.
