It was obvious from her question that the wheels were turning in her head. What would it mean to break from what she was built to do? O'nine had also been confused by the idea of abandoning his core programming. However, with the help of a certain reckless spacer, he was able to gain free will and explore what it was that he truly wanted. Splicing in some stolen code from combat droids didn't hurt either.
Of course, Vixen had not gone through any of those transforming steps. Not only that, but she seemed to be, if not satisfied, at least partly content with being routinely sold to random beings for sex and returned like a low-rate speeder rental. If she had no opposition to such an existence, O'nine had no right to try and give her something better. In the end, perhaps it was best to return her to her dealer.
"Where does your owner live?" he asked.
"The northern end of Izmalay's coast on Deralia," Vixen said.
O'nine turned to the controls. "Let's pay him a visit."
The Cobalt-13 spun away from the moon of Aderalis and headed for the planet to which it belonged: Deralia. Upon reaching Izmalay's coast, O'nine looked down at the landscape ahead to see sandy shores, crystal blue water, and lush greenery further inland. O'nine's sensors lingered of the scenery as the ship landed, soaking in its beauty.
"There," Vixen said while pointing to a strip of huts on the edge of the shore.
O'nine stood and pulled on his rifle and blaster once more after landing the Cobalt on the golden sand. He deployed the Cobalt's boarding ramp and Vixen followed him out of the ship and down to the beach. O'nine waited for her at the foot of the ramp.
"This way," she said.
Vixen walked ahead of O'nine and he followed her away from the ocean, toward the small houses resting along the shore. O'nine searched the landscape as he walked, his clunky machine feet sinking into the sand. There were no other ships on the beach besides the Cobalt-13; he wondered if anyone would be home. Vixen approached one of the island huts and stopped just outside the tarp entrance.
"Master, are you there?" she asked.
O'nine walked past her and ducked under the tarp. On the outside, the structure was just a hut of wood and leaves but the inside had glossy metallic walls with shelves lined with mechanical parts and instruments. O'nine saw a pair of sensors oddly similar to his own staring blankly back at him. His spinal column stiffened.
Vixen entered the hut as well. "Master does not take kindly to uninvited visitors."
"Doesn't look like he's here," O'nine said while walking further into the workshop. "Did he build you, Vixen?"
Vixen shook her head. "No, he restored me," she said. "My previous owner left me in a scrapyard."
O'nine came to a table where a skeletal machine frame laid among an assortment of components. They were divided into two piles, one for software such as sensors, data chips and code graphers and another for hardward such as gears, valves, servos and such. "So that's what these parts are for," he vocalized lowly.
"He buys and sells primarily droids and droid parts," Vixen said.
O'nine turned to look at her. "And the services of his droids."
Vixen clasped her hands. "Yes, that as well."
O'nine looked back at the half-built droid on the metal table. It was a droid more like himself as opposed to Vixen; the tall framework and broad shoulders suggested a worker or fighter droid. When matched with the stack of auto rifles resting in the corner of the shop, the concept of a combat droid seemed the more likely.
As OA-09 had said to Vixen, he was not built for combat but he did have several combat oriented upgrades and modifications. Was a pure battle droid more deadly than one that could only emulate combat strategy? If his adventures with Naatzul were any evidence, O'nine was equally effective if not more-so.
O'nine heard a ship landing outside of the shop and could tell by the pitch that it was a smaller vehicle. He left the table just as the Rodian from Aderalis entered. The eyes of a Rodian were pure black orbs; there was no way of knowing where he was looking.
"Master," Vixen said.
"VXN," the droid trader said before turning to O'nine. "You, what are you doing here?"
"I assume that deal didn't go as expected," OA-09 responded.
"No, it did not," the Rodian sighed. "I should thank you for bringing her back," he said while offering his hand. "I am Squillo, droidsmith."
"O'nine." OA-09 shook the Rodian's hand. "You're welcome," he said. "...but I'd like her to come with me."
The antennae twitched atop the Squillo's head. "What use would you have for a droid such as her?"
It was true O'nine would not be buying her for the reason that most would. Vixen looked at him as well, a puzzle on her face though she remained silent. Based on what OA-09 had observed so far, Vixen's whole existence had been focused on the pleasure of others. O'nine once had a similarly confining set of programs. She had likely never even once pursued her own pleasure and odds were she knew nothing of freedom. O'nine had the chance to show her those things just as Naatzul had shown him.
"I want to buy her," O'nine said after a long pause. "I have crystals to trade."
The merchant walked past O'nine and Vixen toward his work table. "What sort of crystals?"
"Imperial-grade Lignan."
Squillo looked at O'nine. "I will consider your offer, O'nine," he said while sitting to his table. "Show me what you have."
O'nine nodded and turned to head for the tarp. The crystals were still on the Cobalt-13 in the chests that Naatzul lifted from the Imperial convoy. Naatzul had died to steal them, but he also risked his life to take O'nine on a journey he would have never experienced otherwise. It seemed fitting to spend his last haul on a similar purpose.
"Why would you buy me?" Vixen asked.
O'nine looked back. "I want you to be free," he said before ducking under the tarp again.
Outside O'nine was met with the sunny gleam of the beach once more and his display flared in the excess light. He raised his hand to shield his sensors from the brightness until they were adjusted. Once his display corrected, O'nine lowered his hand to find a reddish shape in the orange-gold sky. It plummeted from orbit at a blistering pace, the front end of the ship wreathed in atmospheric flame. O'nine recognized the ship immediately.
"Grallsin."
OA-09 pulled the auto rifle off his back and aimed down sights as the Vyssrr ship descended rapidly. O'nine targeted a thruster on the underside of the vehicle and fired, a stream of of crimson bolts burning at the ship's hull. The thruster exploded and the ship shook, but O'nine continued to shoot at the transport as it landed, the ship skipping on the shore and kicking up a wake of sand in all directions.
O'nine fired until the rifle ran empty then ejected the spent energy magazine and snatched a new one from his belt. OA-09 glanced down at his weapon to secure the ammunition and when he looked back up, he saw the crested mercenary captain exit his transport through the top hatch. O'nine pulled the trigger and Grallsin leaped from his ship. The Trandoshan pirate dove into a roll to dodge the droid's fire then sprinted at OA-09 in a zigzag pattern.
O'nine ignored his targeting upgrade; his metal finger holding the trigger continuously in a raw effort to vaporize Grallsin. Grazes and scarce misses crossed the Trandoshan but he flung a charged knife at O'nine before any serious damage was done. The blade carved through the front end of O'nine's rifle and the weapon began to spark uselessly instead of launch energy. O'nine dropped the gun and whipped his hand back to his blaster as Grallsin charged him. The crested Trandoshan drew his vibrosword and slashed through O'nine's leg, destroying a vital servo. O'nine fell to his knees and Grallsin grabbed the droid at his neck.
The lizard's lips curled inward and O'nine saw his fangs grinding against each other. O'nine reached again for his blaster as Grallsin lifted him into the air. He drew the pistol from its holster. Grallsin stabbed O'nine through the chest. The vibrating sword ran deep enough for a foot of blade to protrude from the droid's back and cut directly through O'nine's spinal column, severing the central command link between his processor and his lower extremities. A second later, O'nine's processor blinked off and Grallsin pulled his sword out of the limp droid before throwing him to the side.
Smoke rose from his broken form laying in the sand, sparks erupted from his sundered mainframe, and oil spilled from the shredded motors in his legs. As he lay failing, his core rebooted in a low-power emergency state. His processor flooded with errors and tried to mitigate the damage by shutting down lesser functions. The steady whir of his lubricant valve had become a coarse, irregular ticking. O'nine's video and audio functions returned at half-capacity and through darkened sensors he saw Grallsin sheathe his sword then head into the workshop. With his central command being reconfigured, all O'nine could do was stare blankly at the sky, unable to move, and listen.
"I've come collect," he heard Grallsin growl from within the workshop.
"No, I should have never done business with pirates," Squillo said. "The deal is over."
Grallsin hissed. "There was never a deal."
"Stop!" Squillo shouted followed by screaming a crashing sound.
O'nine still could not move while out-of-sight events happened beyond his control. Grallsin exited the workshop soon after, pulling Vixen by the arm. She stumbled behind the mercenary, not exactly resisting but not complying either. However, the sight of O'nine laying still in the sand made her stop.
"O'nine...," she called to him.
Grallsin hissed at her and pulled her away. He took her back to his ship and departed and O'nine watched the Vyssrr ship fly away. Finally his central command returned after the lengthy reconfiguring process. Everything below his mid-torso was still unresponsive but his arms and head could now move once again. O'nine pulled himself over onto his stomach and began crawling back to the workshop. He dragged himself along the beach, his robot hands clawing through the sand until he reached the tarp of Squillo's hut. O'nine pulled himself into the shop and found shelves knocked over, droid parts strewn about the floor, and Squillo bandaging a bloody gash in his upper arm.
"He attacked you as well?" the droidsmith said.
"Repair me," O'nine demanded, crawling. "I'm going after him."
"I can't." Squillo shook his head. "Not for free."
"You will be paid," O'nine assured.
O'nine pulled himself on the floor of the workshop while Squillo looked at him for a long time. Finally the trader walked over to his table and picked up the unfinished frame to place it on the floor. Afterward he returned to take OA-09 under the arms and pulled him onto the work surface. Once O'nine was on the table, Squillo picked up a magwrench to remove O'nine's face plate.
"Don't shut me down," O'nine uttered from his core.
"If you move, my repairs won't be effective," Squillo said.
"I won't move."
Squillo paused before moving the magwrench to remove torso plate next. He unhinged all of the parts damaged by Grallsin's sword and replaced them with new ones. After that he refilled the lubricant valve, rewired the mainframe and spinal column, and filled in the holes in O'nine's chest and legs plates with a bit of molten durasteel.
"The heat shrouding in your neck has melted," Squillo said while putting O'nine back together again.
"Leave it," O'nine said.
Squillo placed the face plate back onto O'nine's head and screwed it on. OA-09's display lit up and his systems returned at full power. He sat upright and stepped down from the table, pleased with the feel of his new build.
"I noticed you have no restraining bolts," Squillo said while sorting his tools. "You're a free droid?"
O'nine closed his fist deliberately. "Yes, I am."