clan_techie: (sleepin?)
The Madrigal crime syndicate had been disbanded, and luckily someone involved with that disbanding knew where to send her tech -and favorite pet- since releasing him into the local waterways wasn't something he'd survive, not with the augmentations he had and not when no one knew for sure if he was even native to the planet. Cybernetic eyes that hadn't actually been made for him and had just been implanted because they were available and a collar that was fitted closely enough that they couldn't be sure whether it was just tight or whether it was grafted on, and the small box set against his throat was apparently just there to deliver a stinging electrical charge if he made any of the sounds a Mer would naturally make, apparently an encouragement to speak basic.

He definitely wouldn't have survived just being released into the waterway in the state he was in even just a couple days on his own. No one had known he was in her manor or they would have cleared it out sooner, and it was the brand at his temple marking him as property instead of a member of the syndicate that likely saved him from arrest or worse.

When he arrived at the facility on Naboo he was in what amounted to a shipping container, too small by half and short enough that his tail was folded back on itself, fins starting to curl, though it was likely that was more from malnutrition and being kept in a too small tank at the Madrigal Manor more than it was the travel container. He was definitely underweight, skin practically pale enough to see through, and what had once been brilliantly orange-copper scales on his tail and scattered in patches up his torso were dull, almost dusty. He'd hissed and snapped half-heartedly at his rescuers, but didn't have the energy for much more than that, and definitely didn't have it now after a few hours in hyperspace. Mostly he was just regarding his new surroundings with suspicion, breathing and the movements of the gills along his ribs irregular and shallow.
clan_techie: (eye)
Techie, honestly, had no idea why he'd been spared when a squad of elite stormtroopers and the First Order's boogeyman himself had arrived and dismantled MaMa's clan with a sort of brutal efficiency. Definitely cleaner than when MaMa had initially taken over that corner of the galaxy.

But there he was, cuffed in the back of a troop transport, and he wasn't sure if that was better than dead or not. He tilted his head so that he could rub at the corner of his eye with the knuckle of his index finger. The augmentations had been badly installed and never really properly maintained, and now, out of range of MaMa's mainframe, he felt a little blind. He could still see, sure, and had infrared and x-ray and a handful of other spectrum scans, but he could only see what he was looking at, no longer connected to the entire compound's security cameras.

Essentially he was back to being just a single person when he'd gotten used to being an entire compound.

It was something that made him feel very small and very, very alone.

He also had no way of knowing that the raid had been specifically to rescue him, and that was because he had no idea just how important he actually was. Certainly he knew about his resemblance to the First Order's General, but MaMa had always said that the only reason anyone would come for him was if said General needed a decoy, which was what he was chiefly concerned about at the moment, gnawing on a thumbnail.

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Techie

June 2021

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