[14 BBY]

[By Terric's Wise Eyes, Maldaz Gem-class Passenger-liner, docked space station, in orbit Lutrilla, Lutrilla System, Yarith Sector, Greater Javin Region, Outer Rim Territories, United Federal Empire]

The devaronian female called Sanya sat at a bench on the observation-cantina deck of the passenger-liner, looking out at the distant planet, along with the various starships on the move, and stars twinkling against blackness of real-space. Around her the cantina bustled with activity, in part because it was open, but also because of the passenger check taking place now that they'd hit what was called a 'drawbridge system' apparently. There'd been similar checks at Christophsis, Darknell, and Eriadu after all, and it was easier to do it in the cantina or other open areas as it avoided them even considering a check for contraband or other such things during a room meeting.

It wasn't that the 'Imperial Inspectors' were overly aggressive, though the ones on Darknell had been unpleasant natured, but they were security conscious. Or, paranoid and suspicious of anything that's starting location was within the Confederacy of Independent Systems, especially systems like Ukio that were near, and in-theory, still hot-zone conflict sectors. Sanya though that a little silly, but the galaxy had been less sane and proper to her mind with each passing year. It was why she was on a passenger-liner in the middle of the Outer Rim, heading deeper into the Wilds, after all. Why she gave a polite smile to the human female in the white with black trim uniform of the Empire as she came over to her table-bench, two troopers at her back in grey, white, light armour.

"Sanya, origin Ukio, CIS territory" the human greeted in a low voice, polite, and not broadcasting to the entire cantina as she held a data-slate in her hands, ticking it after scanning Sanya's ticket "A Jedi?"

"Of…the Service Corps" Sanya answered awkwardly, at roughly the same height as the officer and two troopers behind her, people going about their business, or waiting to be seen next "The AgriCorps…I wasn't a Knight or…a Jedi like they were, Officer…"

"Customs Inspector Trent" the inspector responded with a nod, ticking the device with stencil-pen "Your destination? Reason for entering Imperial space?"

"Trilon Sector, I'm seeking to…ah, join the colony effort there, and the academy too" she answered with a suddenly weary smile. Sanya had been Coruscant born, the Order had been her home then, till she had been sent to Ukio, whereupon it had become her home. Now, it too, was gone, and she was alone in the galaxy it felt like, and partly forced to take what options were available now "I signed up with the recruitment official on Eriadu"

Through the Force she felt the inspector had confirmed that even before she voiced the agreement with Sanya's statement "Excellent, good that you are being open about your origins. Secrecy has gotten a few your kind into trouble since the wars end"

Then gave a sympathetic look "Trouble with the Confeds?"

Sanya gave an awkward look, holding her drink, then sighing "Yes. We were farmers, and I….liked being a farmer. Unfortunately, they seemed to think I'd be better off being a farmer somewhere else…or not at all"

It was the truth, but only a fraction of it really. The AgriCorps had been falling apart since even before the Republic had fallen apart, and then Jedi Order itself had fallen into chaos or being hunted. With their worlds held by either then Separatists or by 'Republic' factions that were wary of the Jedi due to the actions of the Temple…the Council of AgriCorps Masters had imploded or being disappeared. Sanya really wasn't sure as Ukio had been somewhat isolated from whatever happened to Taanab, Marfa, or Bandomeer, but the fall of her home had been slower.

Oh, they'd planned to flee when word of the murder of Jedi reached them, but that had fallen apart as the local Separatists moved to de-facto protect Ukio. Everything had seemed fine for a few months, but instead of a sudden fall Sanya had the painful experience of watching things fall apart slowly as she turned from 'padawan-washout' to adult. Some of their number had immediately left Ukio, the most adventurous, those seeking revenge she'd seen with worry, and a few to just escape…something. Sanya had been amongst those that had argued for staying, for riding out the troubles as the Sith Chancellor was trapped on Coruscant, and there were Sith in other places.

That…had worked for a short time. Things settling, sort of…

Till the 'recruiters' arrived, subtle or otherwise. From the Hutts, to clearly unbalanced Jedi Knights and Masters seeking to fight 'The Sith', and even members of the local Sector government seeking anyone who'd take up a more martial stance against in defence of the Sector. That had broken the fragile balance that was Ukio's AgriCorps as members picked sides. Sanya had tried to stick it out, but the Confederacy want them gone now…or at least the Bothans and Trade Federation. She had no intention of swearing to the local Sector government for protection so she could be an enforcer for them, nor did the Hutts appeal as a destination, even without idea of parading around near naked disgusting her.

She shrugged as she handed over her official documents "So here I am, off to a new home hopefully"

The human nodded after a quick glance, scanning the 'code' at the top, before handing them bac "Your papers appear to be in order, my colleague here will just do a quick bio-scan and we will be gone"

"Of course, not a problem" Sanya agreed, though she wasn't entirely comfortable with that as one of the troopers pulled out a scanner, holding it to her face as she gave a weak smile. It was held up for a few seconds before her face, then lowered as the inspector gave her thanks and then departed to the next person down the line. Empire loved their lists and their 'census' compared to how the Republic had been…but considering how that ended, and the fact she was heading into a 'high security' Over-sector, Sanya didn't want to complain as the friendly waitress, a Zeltron, came over with a menu in hand. She could only hope she was making the right decision here rather than trying to re-join the broken Order….

--

[14 BBY]

[Prototype Star Destroyer YX-652, Fondor Shipyards, in orbit Fondor, Tapani Sector, Tapani Freeworlds League, Colonies Region, Confederacy of Independent Systems]

"Unit O-984/B reporting for duty" Qi'ra stated, for the record, to the moronic B-1 'Supervisor' droid, because the droids were too stupid at times to respond to her actual name. Or, occasionally, smart enough to understand and therefore found it amusing to pretend that they were morons just to annoy her and those handful of poor misfortunates that had fallen through the cracks as it were. The red-striped supervisor turned, with a data-slate in hand, pinged the collar and the chip somewhere in body, after giving out to the previous droid who'd been there, and Qi'ra sighed as it looked at unhappy "Sir"

"Roger, Roger" it stated, barely noticing she was a human being and not, apparently, a B-1 droid, and pointed at a half dozen B-1s "Unit O-984/B report for cleaning duties with Squad T-874/C in Sub-section 45C"

'Great, fantastic…cleaning duties' Qi'ra mentally grumbled, lips mumbling unhappily…

"Roger…roger"

…and froze 'Oh Goddess, they have me saying it now' she thought with a grimace as the supervisor droid took that as confirmation, and Qi'ra had to moved quickly to catch up with her 'squad' for the day. Life had been poodoo for the past…four?...five?...months now. Well, better in some ways, but really kriffen dull too, as well as utterly demeaning because it was one thing to be a slave to a Neimodian who wanted to show off versus being treated like a droid. Largely because the Confederates were too kriffing lax and/or stupid in regard to running their increasingly automated and high security 'upgrades' to the Fondor Shipyards. It had been a bad few months before that, after she'd kriffed up with the White Worms and then failed to escape.

She was going to get revenge, somehow, someday, for selling her, to that Neimodian sleemo because he wanted to add a real life Corellian girl to his harem collection. Qi'ra hadn't even had time to try trick, seduce, or murder him, before the kriffing moron had been arrested and shipped off to….wherever Confed Prison was, and his property seized to pay back embezzlement. Nobody had bothered to check that said property included about a dozen females of various species, and the droids were, of course, kriffing moronic B-1s, and simply would not take any argument on the matter. 'Restraining bolts' were added to Qi'ra and the other 'seized sapient property' were simply 'slotted in' to the production work roster.

It would be hilarious if it was someone else, but it wasn't someone else, and all escape attempts at the start had just made the situation worse. They might be kriffing morons, but they were security conscious kriffing morons, as well as used to the droids being incompetent with work at times. Qi'ra, or 'Unit O-984/B', as such had found herself an incredibly successful worker despite her best efforts, and a few of the other females had found themselves in the same starship as it were. Right now, 'working hard' and getting 'promoted' was her best goal, ideally to somewhere they actually had people who'd actually listen and maybe help them, rather than the current situation of droids everywhere.

'The sad part this is probably safer than if they send me back to the Core' she mused picking up her tools, glad of the work suit she'd salvaged, and followed the rest of her squad 'Because do I really want to risk getting back on Corellia?'

Her former employers, who'd kriffing sold her to a slaver, wouldn't be happy after all, and Qi'ra did not like the idea of joining CorSec and dying horribly in the brutal bloodbath that was going on in the Core proper. At this moment she was, technically, being paid because of the convoluted idiocy that was the Trade Federation-Techno Union-Confederacy system of what exactly she was. All while she was getting fed a nutritious diet…otherwise she and the others would be dead. Why they….the vague powers that be above her…understood that situation but not that she wasn't supposed to be here Qi'ra did not know. All she could figure was that as long as warships were being produced and bodies not found on them, the droid-brains running the systems viewed everything as normal.

"…watch it, watch it…"

"I got it, I got it!"

Krrsshhhhhh

And the B1s were surprisingly chatty and catty at each other as another squad of B1s came back fumbling and bungling up a corridor, carrying, then dropping some containers they were carrying. Something that was immediately jumped up 'her' squad, led by the 'squad leader' B-1 "They really need to tweak the G-series processors"

"I'd like to see you carry heavy boxes!" replied back the other idiot droid on the ground, and Qi'ra rolled her eyes as the 'G-series' or whatever tried to trick 'her' droids "You should carry these heavy boxes with your better processors"

"He's trying to trick you" she muttered, rolling her eyes again as the 'G-series' managed to get up and her 'imperious leader' looked set to agree "We have a more important task"

'Like cleaning floors apparently"

"Yeah O-984/B is right!" one of her idiots agreed, and then soon they she was trudging back along towards "Stupid G-series! We're too smart to be tricked like that!"

"Roger, Roger" the squad leader agreed as yet another B-1 turned to her and offered support or something.

"Wow O-984/B you really showed them! Are you like a prototype model?"

Qi'ra sighed. This was her life right now "Yeah, sure, beep-boop, new production prototype with enhanced processors, I'm sure we'll be leading fleets soon enough…"

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