A metal sardine

[OOM-N1]

OOM-N1, also lovingly designated "Omni" by his creator, pondered at what must be the longest trip anyone had taken ever. He swore that junk merchant must have secretly known he was there, and was doing this just to spite him. Of course, stowaways probably aren't exactly appreciated... or legal... but surely that didn't apply to someone who could technically be labeled as "product", as the foolish vendor had been fortunately willing to do. The proud commander droid hoped he at least was given a reasonably large price tag. He better be, with the accomadations. Omni swore to himself when he got out this damnable shipping crate he was going to shove that idiot human into the smallest box he could find. The thought gave him something to look forward to during the long wait, at least. Omni thought back on prior events... waking up in that rundown laboratory his creator had thrown together near the scrapyard where he had apparently been found... His creator who was the closest thing the " young" droid could have to a father. He didn't know anything from his previous "life".... from the time he served fighting under the CIS during an event called the " clone wars". At least, he had no memories of those events.... he still had his tactical programming. His designated purpose. He knew what he was, what he was meant for. But other than that, he only knew what his creator had told him. Then that man came... Omni never saw his face, it obscured by a helmet... but he certainly would not forget how he had gunned down his creator, the only family he knew, right in front of him. Good thing he had gone to check the back rooms before looking inside the small work area Omni had been in. He ran, and kept running, until he found this ship, and hid inside. If droids could sigh, this would be a good time to, he figured. Suddenly, the hum of the engines stopped, and shortly the crate was being moved. And then... daylight. Omni made his best impression of "deactivated" and waited for the idiot human and his assistant to unload him near a bunch other assorted droids. They were in a market now, it seemed, patrons going to and fro haggling over junk parts and fellow droids. Omni was very indignant at the idea of being sold to some low life, but there was nothing he could do about it right now... too many eyes. He'd have to wait until the right moment. And so, he waited, sitting there like the worlds saddest calculator.

[Slade Xandir]

'Tver' walked through the marketsquare of Tattooine, one of the most well known places to pick up some good junk for cheap as long as you knew how to snarl, intimidate or swindle back better than the guy trying to try you. She would come to a place like this, wouldn't she?

Tilting his head up, the handsome Rogue breathed in the dry heat of the sand planet. The bustling around him repeatedly erupted while Talzs, Dressellians, and a million and one other different species of folks swarmed around looking for deals. One Arcona spat something rancidly red at a Dug, and 'Tver' made a second of his time devoted to watching the fight commence. The taller biped tried kicking at the Dug, who proceeded to swing brashly at the Arcona. Wide and muscular feet arm things smacked an ankle, and it was over with as an all too loud crunchy crack joined the whoops and hollers of the circle. "Oooohhh"s came in as the Arcona went down, cursing in some gibberish 'Tver' didn't attempt to decipher. All he knew was some Galactic basic, and that's as good as it got.

Moving on, the edgy but chill drug addict moved on to the next few stalls, passing by weapons and gambling few were worth his time. One he kinda noticed moreso was one Quarren and his Gran pals. One wandered off while the other 2 did various things, looking out for the next victim to snatch credits from in an easy deal.

Taking a stroll to the stall, 'Tver' s dark eyes landed on the newly acquired droid. Did he really need a droid? Not really- but they were useful, and that was what mattered. Unlike organics, they only needed like what, a charging station? Big deal. They were much more useful than detrimental, and with one, he could easily have a free 'Go out and get me some Snow' oppertunity.

"How much for that one?"

[OOM-N1]

The Quarren considered the stranger for a moment, thoughtfully stroking one of his facial tentacles. "This is good quality droid, excellent condition. I would not normally give for less than 2000 credits... but you come on good day. I part with droid for 1800. What you say?"

[Slade Xandir]

"Hell yea!" 'Tver' exclaimed, gruff voice showing all the proper signs of excitement needed to prop up any other aliens ears. Or whatever they listened through. "This guy's got some deals!" He wasn't trying to be phony, nor did he sound like it, but what he was doing was attracting the attention of other aliens and other organics looking for good prices.

"Knock it down another 300, and I'll make sure you get all the clientele needed for you to live like a king," he bargained with a good arched brow. Meanwhile, to show he meant it, he took out a 1k cred chip and a few jangles sounded with the pair of 200's and a 100 in tow. All 4 chips glittered in his just barely tanned hands, just as shiny as the scars on his knuckles.

[OOM-N1]

The merchant studied the stranger another moment before nodding. "Good, good. You have deal. You tell everyone about generous prices, yes?" He said, pocketing the creds and unlocking the droid from it's anti-theft device.

Meanwhile....

Omni watched with great incredulity as the two fleshy idiots haggled over prices. 1800? 1800!!? A standard B1 was worth 1800! He was a highly advanced, self aware, OOM series COMMANDER! He was worth at LEAST 10,000! Internally fuming as he was unlocked from those cursed restraints, he forced himself into a calmer state. It would do no good to make a scene here. As the Quarren attempted to find his "on switch", Omni powered himself up. " Ah, good! See, I know my way around this tech, sure enough! You go with customer, yes? " the Quarren said gleefully. Moron. Doing his best impression of a *shudders* subordinate, Omni, in a nasally and metallic voice, stated the most embarrassing thing he's ever had to utter. "Roger roger."

[Slade Xandir]

Nearly black irises stayed on the Quarren to ensure he himself was covered in case anything would come to past where he would have to draw his Westar quicker than he could smirk. Once the 'roger roger' was in the air, 'Tver' began to back from the merchant, a grin plastered on his face with the scam that literally let him walk with a jewel for near free. 1500 for a OOM? Psh, he mighta been something of a tale if he told other swindlers how much he broke this alien down for. This was a well known battle droid, and if there was anything he was good at, it was getting things for near free. Well, he had to. /there wasn't much of an income he had coming in, and his addiction forced him to be a bit more peculiar about where his money went. Now if this droid broke down, then it could kick novadust. Sealing the deal he made with the Quarren, the Rogue shouted loudly with a beckon to the alien. "Yo, this dude's got it all! Low prices, it's almost a steal!" With nothing more than the word 'steal', the horde of aliens and people alike swarmed the small market stall, an whether he was actually doing business or being 'stolen' from was unknown to the bachelor, but he had already walked away with his purchase, grinning from ear to ear.

"Now look here, bud," 'Tver' began with a much more eased posture, swagger bleeding into his walk as he resumed his life as it was meant to be. "The only stranger in this relationship is gonna be me. I know ya can't be one of the grunts; ya painted different. Tell me all about yourself, dude."

Meanwhile, he was making a direct trek to the sand-dusted Supafighter, all too ready to head himself back aboard the ship and be on his way. But slowing his smooth walk, he had to think...didn't he want a drink first? Thinking again, he resumed his walk. He didn't have creds to spare on bliss, right now. That's what this droid was for.

[Rhoden Carbine]

Rhoden had been hanging around looking for some... helpful people. More appropriately he'd been looking for one of his smuggler contacts, but it appeared that the Twi'lek woman had altered how she did business in this sector or had dropped the run for whatever reason. It was of no consequence, just a minor inconvenience that happened to give him some free time.

He heard a yell and looked up, anticipating some kind of trouble, but it was just a crowd forming up around a stall. But... oh, that wasn't something he saw everyday. It was a battle droid--a commander from the markings. His hand twitched almost unconsciously towards his concealed blaster, he'd seen far too many of those to be comfortable with--and that had only been when they hit Coruscant. He decided to glaze over Neimodia, he had no desire to remember that slimeball of a world.

"Hello there." he said, walking up to the man who had acquired the droid, he glanced at the man but let his eyes settle on the droid, "An intriguing specimen." he said, examining it closely. He'd seen droids before--hell, one had managed to become an officer in the Navy. Which was just... weird. It was in quite good condition, "You robbed that idiot." he chuckled quietly, "I've never seen one that really looked this good and I've blasted my fair share of them to pieces."

[OOM-N1]

Looking back one last time at the lucky (unlucky?) and newly busy merchant, he turned to respond his..... "new owners"... question. " This unit is designated OOM-N1. You may also refer to this unit by the alternative designation of Omni, as that was the name chosen by this units prior handler. Do you have any further queries?" Feeling a sense of pride in his acting abilities, Omnis optical sensors picked up yet another stranger, who began addressing his... "owner".

[Slade Xandir]

"Really? That's all ya got for me? A name? No history-" he began to start, incredulous at the near-nothing handed to him. Waving his hand, he brushed it off with a flip of temperament that only the best drug addicts could pull off. Unpredictable. "You know what, homie Omni we're gonna make history together. Frakk your prior crap." Well, they had better; as low as he paid for the droid, was still credits. Credits weren't cheap.

Now see, everything was all sunshine and rainbows till someone decided to pop up on him with nothing more than a greet and not really a meet. It wasn't that hard for him to slide that hand to a inner pocket on his vest, and tease a sweating grip on that Westar. One of two, dare be said.

"Aye folk, you can take that sweet talk and bounce. You ain't lookin' for a scrap, I ain't neither." Typically he acted much more cool than this, but frayed nerves and lack of Snow led to impatience and edgy trigger fingers. Reprocussions were thought of later. He had no idea who this dude was, but basic instinct led his brain to protect his goods first and smack any hand that reached to grab it.

[Rhoden Carbine]

"Forgive me." Rhoden said smoothly, a small smile touching his lips. "You may not remember me; but I do keep up with interesting and unanticipated factors." he said, "I was on Bogden when you so... eloquently... joined our little excursion." Rhoden's face and voice were friendly, conversational; but his eyes were cold and he was just as ready to defend himself against the questionably stable creature in front of him.

"Of course battle droids--even commanders--aren't much of a threat unless you buy in bulk." he said, "Or give them some upgrades and new software." he added with a shrug, not quite asking the question of why he had spent money on a droid decades out of date. Of course Rhoden didn't have room to talk either since he kept artifacts and oddities--he still had a droideka curled up in the Firehawk's cargo hold.