Stashed away within room 612 on the Voidbreaker II was Mex. Tinkering away at one of his droids; ‘Squeak’, an MSE-6 Repair Droid that sat on the verpine’s chitinous lap with circuitry exposed. With delicate focus, Mex utilised a hydrospanner to detach a blown capacitor for replacement.
The room around them was a grisly sight, loose parts, an open roof panel, some loose wiring all matched by a dingy dark lighting. It was obvious that the verpine had no real care about the cleanliness of the den with which it had been figuratively hibernating within.
It’d been a few months since Druzk had been away from the Voidbraker and the entire Brotherhood. Perhaps he needed some time to himself. Maybe it was for soul searching. Even he didn’t know.
One thing was for sure, though: being back here was comfortable. The ship was still familiar to him. And his room, of course, was still there. He wouldn’t admit to anyone, but some part of him missed being here. Missed some of the people.
With that in mind, the Barabel approached door 612 of the Voidbreaker member quarters and pounded his fist against its metallic surface.
“Hey! Are you in there?” he called out.
For a moment, Mex stopped what they were doing and stared towards the door in eerie silence.
“Hi, I am Mex. I am not in there.” They replied to the door confoundedly.
“Open the damn door,” he replied flatly.
Another pause.
…
“Ok.” The verpine replied from within, haphazardly tossing ‘Squeak’ aside onto a stray container tipped in such a way as to be an impromptu table.
With a press of a button, the door creaked open to the sight of a Barabel looking down on them.
“Hi Druzk.” Mex awkwardly chimed out.
Seeing as the door didn’t open all the way, Druzk helped it along the way, grunting as he did.
“You’ll need to fix that.”
Without saying anything else, the towering figure rushed in and hugged the giant insect.
“I didn’t miss you.”
“I do not use the doors frequently. I have easier access to the ship wiring from my ceiling.” The verpine pointed out, before being ambushed by the Barabel’s grasp.
Mex went still, and did not know how to respond to Druzk. After another pause, they finally replied “You did not miss, I am in your grasp.”
Mex certainly didn’t change. Socially awkward as ever. Good. It was almost endearing.
Druzk released Mex from his arms just as quickly as he put the Verpine in them.
“Fix your door anyway. It’s a fire hazard.”
Free from the barabel’s attachment, Mex went back to grab a hydrospanner after the directive.
Coming back to Druzk, Mex instantly got to work on the door, popping open the breaker next to the barabel.
“Hi Druzk, come in or go out. I need to unpower the door so that it is safe to fix.”
Druzk rolled his eyes and scoffed as he snatched the hydrospanner away from Mex’s grasp. “I didn’t mean right now. Do it later.”
He stepped back and gestured outside before offering the tool back. “Put this away, and let’s grab a drink or food or something at the mess hall.”
Mex watched in blank disbelief as the tool was whisked away. “Ok. How do I do it later if we are going to the mess hall?”
Turning back a moment, they grabbed another hydrospanner, and looked as if they were going to start working on the door again.
“When we’re done in the mess hall… you’ll come back here. Then you can work on it.”
Druzk was growing impatient. “How many—? Ugh. Drop the damned thing and let’s go to the mess hall. Don’t make me drag you there.”
“Ok!” Mex replied, dropping the hydrospanner haphazardly onto the floor of their room.
“Mess Hall, then door, then droid.” The Verpine recited.
“I didn’t literally mean—right. Yes. Mess hall, door, droid. Good.”
As the Barabel turned away to lead, he couldn’t help but smile in amusement. Druzk wasn’t going to let Mex see that, though.
As they made their way to their destination, he figured it was a good time than ever to break the silence.
“What have you been doing these past few months?”
Staring back at the barabel, Mex recounted the past few months.
“Hi Druzk, I did a lot. Would you like a daily itinerary of incident reports around the ship? Fixing droids, fixing wiring, fixing the tools needed to fix. Ship is easy to fix within the vents. No one in the vents.”
“…”
“Hi Druzk. What did you do? Are you able to provide a litany of activities for me to review?”
Druzk’s attention quickly faded as Mex droned on and on about the most mundane of tasks. Fortunately, the timing could not have been better. Once Mex was done, the duo were already at the mess hall.
The Barabel sat at the bar and gestured towards the empty seat beside him. Aside from them and the bar droids that served food and drink, no one else was there.
Druzk requested—more, demanded—a dish from his homeworld in his native tongue and then turned towards Mex, thinking of how to answer their question.
“I found a few jobs here and there throughout the galaxy. Made some creds. Killed a few people. Nothing special.”
Sitting at the empty seat beside Druzk, Mex stared in the barabel’s direction as he summarised the events of the past few months.
Mex sat silently after Druzk had finished his summary, as if they were expecting more details to the vague allusions they had been provided.
“…”
They realized they needed to reciprocate engagement to continue this social endeavour.
“Hi Druzk. Why is killing people not special? I did not kill people. Many people do not routinely commit the act of ending another life. If someone performs an action that the lower percentile of the galaxy performs, is that not special? What is your definition of ‘few’?” They queried in a genuine manner.
Druzk laughed in reaction to Mex’s questions. “People die all the time in this galaxy. You piss the wrong person off, they pay money to handle them.”
When his food arrived, the Barabel demanded a strong drink.
“I’ve killed three people since I’ve been gone.” He lifted his hand and extended an index finger. “The first one was a cheating husband.” Index and middle. “The second, some corporate administrator had me go after a rogue employee who decided to steal some plans, and,” he extended his ring finger, “last, a client of a spice dealer who owed him a little too many credits.”
“Ok.” Mex replied flatly, looking away and ahead at nothing in particular as they processed the manifest of targets
After a short silence, they continued “Do you know about everyone you have killed?”
“What’s there to know?” replied the Barabel with a casual shrug. “I was told what to do, did my job, and got my credits. That’s all that matters to me.”
He swiped at his drink quickly when it arrived and downed it instantly.
“Yes. But you said that one was a husband, one was a corporate administrator and one was a rogue employee. Do you know everything about those people? Did they have friends? Did they fight back?”
Druzk shrugged. “The only one that fought was the druggie. He didn’t stand a chance.”
Pausing for some time, the verpine contemplated Druzk. He was either giving half-answers, was half-listening, or just genuinely didn’t think about the questions the verpine was asking.
“Hi Druzk. If I was a target. Who would I be? Would it be easy?”
As the Verpine contemplated what they’d say next to him, Druzk ordered another drink and dug into his food.
When Mex finally spoke, the Barabel froze at the unexpected question, his hand clutching his drink midway between the table and his mouth. He turned in his seat to face them directly.
“I’m not going to answer that. If someone placed a target on your back, I’m killing ‘em,” he finally said, tilting back his head as he downed his glass in one fell swoop.
The verpine looked to Druzk, analysing his posture and response. “But what if it was a job? Did someone hire you to kill them? Are you hired to prevent contracts against me?”
Druzk rolled his eyes and turned away, focusing his gaze on his food rather than the too inquisitive being next to him.
“There’s a difference,” he replied flatly.
Mex continued to gaze at Druzk inquisitively. “I do not understand. But that is ok. Sometimes answers hurt.”
Druzk stared at his food as he continued to eat. “You are part of the Voidbreaker crew, Mex. That’s the difference.”
“Ok.” Mex stated, looking around the cafeteria.
“Hi, did you do things other than killing people? I worked on my friends. I would show you, but they are back in my room where I have to fix the door.”
Druzk shrugged and glanced back at Mex now that his line of questioning had stopped. “ Used my credits for some expensive getaways. Ever been to Niamos? Beautiful resort world.”
He took another bite of his food. “Let me finish this, and then you can show your friends.”
“No. I have never been to Niamos. Only cold planet, home planet, purchase planet and Voidbreaker.”
Looking to Druzk’s food, then back to him, Mex blankly stared at the barabel as if they were processing their thoughts.
“… Hi Druzk, did you need help?”
Druzk glanced down at his food, paused, and looked back up at Mex again.
He smirked.
“What, with my food? No. Can you even eat this sort of stuff?”
The verpine seemed confused at Druzk’s response. “Yes. I have a mouth that is used for eating.”
…
They stared at the barabel as he ate.
“You have a weird mouth. Didn’t think you could eat regular food.”
Druzk shrugged and returned to his food. He increased his pace; Mex, just staring at him, was beginning to feel awkward.
It didn’t take very long for him to finish; he shoved the empty plate towards the serving droid, who quickly got to cleaning up.
“Alright. Friend time?”
Druzk didn’t wait for an answer as he got up from his seat and headed towards the turbolift.
Mex followed suit as Druzk transitioned over to the lift. The verpine was bad at small talk and just quietly stood there in barely-contained excitement. Looking over to the barabel, fidgeting around, they struggled to express.
It wasn’t entirely difficult to notice Mex’s agitation as the lift started moving. Confused—perhaps even concerned—Druzk glanced over at the Verpine.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You need a doc to look you over?”
“Hi Druzk. Nothing is wrong. I just want to show you my friends. I have been working on them. I do not show them to many people. I am normally too busy working.”
Mex led the way down the hall, prying open their room door back into their ramshackle room. They gestured Druzk to follow.
“Oh, so you’re excited. Right.”
He followed the Verpine down the hall and into their room. “Alright. Let’s see ‘em. Give me the rundown.”
As Druzk came into the room, they were met with the same messy dim-lit sight. Droids, everywhere. They all turned to look towards the barabel.
GONK
A gonk droid began to walk towards and eventually into the barabel. Was it trying to attack? It was hard to tell…
“Hi Druzk. That is Gonk.”
With a cool breeze in the room, an HVAC droid stood, giving Druzk some warm air from a distance.
“That is Heat.”
In the corner of the room, a floating X-0X Droid spied on the two.
“That is Lens. It likes to watch.”
A small pit droid, walked up and pushed the gonk droid away. It then went to give Druzk a handshake but its arm fell off.
“That is Ding. I cannot requisition the appropriate bolt for its arm.”
And finally, with tool still stuck in it, the final droid rested on Mex’s bunk. They moved to it and finished their maintenance with a couple twists and turns, setting the mouse droid on the ground. It quickly whirred over to Druzk and began to bump into him, back up, and do so again. An angry mechanical squeak eminated from the droid.
“That is squeak. It is a bit territorial. Aggressive. Like you. You be good friends.”
The amount of droids that littered Mex’s room was no surprise to Druzk. Nor was all the attention that all of them gave him.
When the gonk droid ran right into him, the Barabel didn’t even move a muscle. He only glared. His attention was quickly pulled away when Mex started listing off the other droids in their collection.
The warm air from Heat actually felt nice.
Lens would be helpful for a mission or two.
Druzk was about to shake hands with the pit droid in return, but he lowered his hand as its arm fell off.
And then the mouse droid was nothing but pure amusement.
“Yeah, very aggressive. I see that.”
As with the gonk droid before, he wasn’t phased. Instead, he was bold enough to reach down in an attempt to pick up the cranky droid.
As the small mouse droid impotently wheeled into no direction in particular, it let out a fearsome battlesqueak. Bleeping out what was likely a multitude of expletives towards the barabel.
“Hi Druzk. Squeak has saved this moment in its limited memory. You are now marked for death.” Mex commented regarding the droid’s apparent fury. They stared to Druzk, attempting to gauge their reaction to everything. “They help sometimes. Repairs, modifications, company. They are easy to communicate with, and good at hearing me. Sometimes I am unheard. Unseen. But that is ok, as I always have my friends.” Mex’s datapad chimed a small alert, and their attention was taken away for but a moment. Wordlessly, they tapped on the device and a chime of acknowledgement was emitted from Squeak.
Walking over to Druzk, they took the droid back gently, then set it off into the vents. “Minor fracture in one of the ventilation shafts. This will keep their rage directed and occupied.”
Looking around the room, Mex slid out a sturdy metal crate from under a pile of random parts. Pieces clattered to the ground as they nonchalantly pushed it to Druzk. Motioning to the box for the barabel to have a seat, they went to their chair.
“Hi, Druzk. Who do you consider your friends?”
Druzk let out a hissing, amused laugh. “Marked for death?! Pfft! How exciting. I’ll be impressed if it ever finds a way to kill me.”
With the droid now out of his hands and the crate offered by Mex as a sturdy seat for himself, the Barabel sat down. He pondered their question, remaining silent as he thought.
A shrug.
“All of the Voidbreaker crew are my friends. We all watch out for each other; we have to. And yeah… yeah, Mex, that includes you, too. Just remember that I decided to meet up with you first. Haven’t even talked with anyone else yet.”
He paused momentarily and continued without allowing Mex to follow up with his statement.
“You said you’re sometimes unheard and unseen. Have you been running into that a lot?”
“I-” Mex attempted to reply before Druzk rushed in another question.
The verpine paused in consideration. “I am not like the others. I have difficulties communicating ideas. I am here because Zig and I have been introduced to many, but I lack connection. Not many know me past duty. Not many talk to me without objective. But others… They gravitate towards each other in social bonding. I want to. I try to. It is difficult.” They stared out past Druzk a moment before continuing. “Droids have always been there. Many personalities. Some intentional, some not. Each unique, like people.”
“Thank you for being my friend.”
He heard Mex’s thanks and kept it in mind.
“Well, you gotta admit, Mex: you’re a little weird,” Druzk replied with a joking laugh as he patted against the Verpine’s back. “You know, if you wanna practice speaking better or whatever, you can ask me. Some of the crew might get a little uneasy if you start cursing up a storm, but that’ll make it much more fun.”
“I know. But I don’t know why. I am like them. But I am not certain they see that.” Again, Mex paused a moment in contemplation of their own statement. When the verpine wasn’t moving the quietness could be taken for still contemplation, but who knew what was going on in that head.
Finally, they twitched their gaze back to Druzk. “We are presently practising. I am uncertain if I will bypass the issues presented to me…
What do you plan on doing now that you have returned? You perform security functions. But do you have any other directives?”
Druzk shrugged. “That’s a great question. Meet with the others? Do a mission or two? I don’t karkin’ know…”
“I understand. It can be impossible to predict what happens next. Sometimes it is about remaining present…
Where are you from, Druzk?”
“Barab I. What about you?”
“The Roche Asteroid Belt. Left there with my caretakers while I was a nymph. Spent most of my presently accounted for lifespan on Tatooine. Worked on droids there too. What did you do on Barab I?”
Druzk’s piercing orange eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. Just as quickly, they returned to their neutral state. In truth, no one had ever asked him about his past in such a way as Mex did.
The Barabel shrugged and leaned back against the nearest wall, arms crossed. “Grew up with wealth. Parents owned an ore mining enterprise. They left me a karkton of credits I never saw when they died. Uncle sabotaged their ship and caused it to blow up. Stole my money. Killed the bastard myself.”
It was hard to tell through expression alone if Druzk felt anything. His stoic tone was there as always, his face still neutral.
Mex paused for a bit as they normally did when they were processing a statement.
“So you are alone in the galaxy. We have a commonality. I theorise that is what attracts those similar to us to freelance work. Forced independence. Longing. Maybe we are convinced consciously or not that it is the correct or preferred life route.”
They paused again, as if contemplating their own statement this time.
“We are friends. Come by if you want to spend time. I am here often.”
Druzk stayed quiet, contemplating Mex’s words. For someone so strange and alien, having someone with a somewhat similar background was some comfort.
The Barabel nodded. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we can do poodoo at the range or something.”
As he turned toward the door and stepped toward it, he paused.
“Take care.”
Without another word, he stepped out.