Doda, Interrupted

"Go away you stupid droid, I'm not interested!"

Doda shoved the astromech's grasper arm away from the speeder's sidepanels, wincing as the tip grated against the expensive chrome piping. Its grasper full of filthy rags, the red-topped R5 unit emitted a stream of binary screeches that Doda figured were meant to cast doubt on his lineage. The invective made his antennae ache, but he didn't care. He'd finally been assigned to drive something better than a speeder truck for Rabblo -- a brand new Ubrikkian 6500 livery speeder with a luxurious coat of ebon paint, in fact -- and he wasn't going to let a vagrant astrodroid come anywhere near it.

"Do you have any idea who owns this speeder, you little runt? Rabblo the karg-ing Hutt, thats who. You so much as get a scratch on it and you'll be melted down to scrap!"

The droid seemed unimpressed, but he did stop his squawking.

Doda turned away from the droid, and straightened the collar of his new lux-coat. Rancor Maw black, just like the car. He'd even managed to cajole the tailor into adding some piping that matched the Ubrikkian for only 5 creds more. Hah! He'd conned a deal outta that one! He was disappointed he wasn't gong to get into the Starlight Ball itself, but at least out here, where the otherdirvers waited with their vehicles for their patrons to return, he looked like a prince.

Bee-dummm.

Doda spun around. "No washie truckee!" he railed at the droid. The red-top shook it's dome. It dropped the dirty rags and saluted him, retracting its tripod and straightening up.

"Heh-heh! So you wanna work for the Boss? Rabblo don't need any more droids. Unless you wanna volunteer for the blaster-target range. Heh-heh!" He imagined what fun a blaster set to "autofire" and aimed at this droid could be.

Another one of the droids grasper arms popped out, holding a familiar rectangular stick that glimmered in the night. A series of green LEDs ran along the side, spelling out:

5-0-0.

500 Credits?

Doda leaned in to inspect the cred-stick, verifying the amount. "Where'd you get that kind of cash, droid?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

The droid produced another 500 credstick, hooting a question.

"Well, heh, maybe I could use a droid," Doda relented, snatching at the credsticks. The droid was faster than it looked, however, and the money vanished inside its barrel-shaped body before the rodian could grab it.

"Hey, you little piece of scrap!" Doda, kicking wildly at the snickering droid, almost didn't hear the dull thump in the distance. But he felt the ground shake beneath his feet. He froze, eyeballing the red-topped droid, antenna cocked. The ozone tang of blaster fire filled his nostrils.

Oh no. Not now.

Doda's comlink bleeped. Cripes.

Reluctantly, he switched it on.

"Doda! This is Mas!" His twi'lek superior seemed out of breath. There was the distinct sound of blaster fire in the distance now. At the sound of Mas' voice, the droid began to hop excitedly up and down on its stubby legs.

"What..is it, boss?" Doda asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Move the speeder away from the palace!" the twilek yelled from the comlink.

"But..."

"Get some distance. Then standby for my call -- we may need a quick pickup!" Mas' voice was lost in a hail of blaster fire. Doda blinked at the comlink, wondering if the twi-lek would be alive to make that call.

The R5 unit rolled up and dangled a 1000 credstick. Bee-dumm-dumm.

Doda snatched it away. "Okay, you can come with me. But you give me the other two when we get away, okay droid?"

The rodian reached for the door of the speeder, already dreaming of the ways he'd spend 2000 credits. Maybe he'd finally buy that sorosuub model racer he'd seen at Jursten's speeder lot. It needed work, but we was willing to put the time into it. Lost in thought, he didn't see the shadow that loomed up suddenly behind him....