The Bo'marr Monastery.

Once the spawning pit of Jabba the Hutt's slimy ways, a base of operations for the crime lord's many smuggling and bounty operations and whatever pots he may have had his bloated hands in, for the most part it was just an empty shell now.

But while his stench had left this place for several years, it still remained enshrouded by an almost palpable aura of perversity to the natives of Tatooine, who still felt no desire to visit such a place any time soon.

A large vehicle lumbered over the rocky dunes, growing in size as it drew
nearer. They stopped before the mighty door of the stone fortress. All remained silent for several moments… until a little brown critter came scurrying around the monster and towards the door.

---

The thick glass and mirror wall was suddenly shattered by the weight of
Grievous' body smashing through it, followed by the wall behind it. His alloy and durasteel body easily turned the impact point into a small crater.

The female cyborg stepped through the shattered glass frame after him,
crushing the shards beneath her into fine dust. "This is all the mighty
Grievous has to offer?" Her tone was a coo, one filled with a sarcastic confidence.

The general remained motionless for a few moments, before his feet tensed, grabbing into the floor to allow his legs to hurl him into the air in a stunning display of agility, bringing both his sabers down on her like thunderbolts from a displeased god. She fell back in shock, bringing her own saber up to block his in a manner clumsier due to surprise than she would like to admit.

The general's eyes bore into her own, showing slight amusement. "I can see… you've already grown quite accustomed to your new form…" He chuckled a bit while pressing down harder against the she-Sith's blade.

Her leg suddenly struck his midsection, sending him stumbling backwards
again. As her hand shot out, a blade on Grievous's waist harness shook then flew out of its holster into her grip. She promptly ignited the blue blade and stepped back into a defensive position.

Grievous quickly recovered, noting that she was holding two blades instead of one now. The time to toy with her was done. Now this would be treated seriously.

In a furious, fast paced onslaught, he began to strike out at her with both f his sabers, to which she responded with an equal swift ferocity. hrowing his blades high into the air and flipping to grasp them in his eet, Grievous balanced on his hands while delivering a storm of blows from both sides.

The female cyborg was astounded at the intensity Grievous maintained against
her. Her sabers flailing madly, it quickly became a struggle just to parry the slashes aimed at her.

He pulled his sabers away from attack for a few moments, flipping back to his feet as the sabers landed expertly in his hands. As she watched, his wrists began to rotate until the sabers became a pair of spinning circles of light due to the motion blur. As he stepped forward and struck out at her with the spinning blades, she began to attack the wall of blades uselessly. Grievous continued to strike at her with the twirling blades before he suddenly halted both, took a step back and then lunged forward, the points of both sabers going straight for her chest.

She leaped up and over the general's thrust, spinning around to intercept his own whirling counter-assault with a parry from her own twin blades. The two stepped back from another and seemed to pause for a moment, before the defensive circling began again, their eyes locked.

The general allowed himself a brief chuckle. "So the rumors are true….you are exceptional, far better than some of the lesser I've defeated. They would not have lasted half as long."

"Don't worry…" She cooed again in that same confident tone. "It won't be much longer."

---

Her body suddenly and violently convulsed as an electrical current seared
throughout her body, then landed upon the filthy ground with a hard metallic
clang, a rude awakening emphasized by the Jawas' filthy hands grabbing her
and forcing her to her feet. Too weak to resist, she unwillingly
complied with their forceful suggestion.

She was led through a maze of dark, garbage-littered tunnels, down a ramp into the hot, bright sands of the desert, then brusquely maneuvered into an orderly line with a couple old Astromech droids and various other random and common pieces of living scrap.

The Jawas spent a rather large time scuttling around her compared to the other droids, cleaning her, performing last second repairs on her form. They would dart up, adjust something, and then scurry away again.

She looked up and watched the doors slowly slide open to the great Monastery
and revealed the darkness within. Nothing else. There was silence for many
moments, no movement. Nothing.

She wobbled a bit; ready to pass out once again, but a shock from her
restraining bolt forced her upright.

Voices echoed finally from the gaping mouth of the dank palace, all of them
speaking a language alien to her sensors.

Finally, a figure came from the shadows. The subconscious part of her mind still working through the haze caused by power starvation silently evaluated it. A male Twi-lek, his skin a pale green fading into blue towards the tips of his long head tails which flowed behind him. His clothes were a pair of generic, stained and ripped overalls and filthy white shirt, obviously some kind of servant to whatever master waited within the ominous fortress before her.

A Jawa rushed to the Twi-lek's side, immediately pointing at the droids and
speaking to him in a quick and anxious manner.

"No, we don't need any more astromech droids." He barely looked at the selection of droids. "No, we have enough parts to build two of our own. We don't need salvage." He eyed the taller droid off to the side and tilted his head while the Jawa continued to rant feverishly about the droids behind him.

He approached the odd droid and inspected it, slightly taken aback by it. "I haven't seen any droid like this before…" He looked into the droid's dying eyes and he could feel them looking back at him. But something was behind that gaze… something normal droids lacked… something he couldn't quite define …

The Jawa scrambled towards him, pointing to some of the other droids.

"No. No. How much is this one?" He asked, silencing the creature's prattle
for a few moments before it answered in slightly disguised optimism.

"I won't pay that much; it's damaged. I'll pay 2000 for it."

The Jawa began to yell alien words at the Twi'lek. The offer clearly angered
him.

"3000, then. Otherwise we have no business."

The small creature considered it for a few moments.

"I can almost guarantee you won't find anyone else to buy this droid. It's
clearly not designed for menial labor," he added, twisting the knife into the Jawa's most vulnerable point: its wallet.

The Jawa finally agreed then began to bark out orders and point o the other droids. It then looked to the Twi'lek with an outstretched hand, waiting for its payment. She hazily watched as the Twi'lek placed the credits within the greedy hands of the Jawa. With that small transaction completed, her motor systems and gyros slipped back into power-conservation mode again, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.