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Max knew, intellectually, that Corellia couldn't ALL be shipyards and scrapyards but sometimes it didn't do much to dissuade that myth. Even on the way down to the planet it was easy to see that the majority of the planet was focused toward the space-faring reputation that it had managed to acquire for itself over the millennia. It made sense to play to a strength but it was a bit much in his opinion.
Riding down in the dropship the local defense forces had assigned to give him a lift, he hoped that he would find allies down there ready for him. He had put out the call for Jedi to join him but he wasn't sure who was actually on Corellia at this time. His mission had started simple enough; he was going to buy some replacement engines from the scrapyard with some discretionary credits from the Jedi Order.
And when he'd sent the message he got one back full of panic and fear.
Apparently the scrapyard had tried to save credits on labour by hiring a workforce made almost entirely of droids. It wasn't unusual for businesses with a lot of manual labour but apparently the genius who owned the scrapyard had decided the best droids to do the work were the strongest and most co-ordinated. And while he was at it, it was a good idea to give them a robotic foreman as well.
Turned out that giving a T-Series Tactical droid a workforce made of 'decommissioned' B1 and B2 battle-droids was a bad idea. Especially when the restraint bolt on said tactical droid had been a bad buy to begin with.
So now there was a small-scale droid uprising in the scrapyard.
It was almost poetic that they sent in the Jedi really - felt like a fight he'd been part of for a lot longer than he really had been. Getting off the dropship, he watched as it flew off without him. He huffed out some air as he looked around, drawing his saberstaff.
"Jedi walks into a scrapyard full of battle droids... why does this feel like it's been done before?"
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