Private Geek Squad

[Zoar]

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT
HANGAR WORK SPACE
​

Ting. Ting. Ting.

Zoar was hard at work at one of the many hangar workbenches, a common place to see him, should one be looking. The massive, durasteel-plated form of the Padawan brought a hammer down on a hoop of orange-hot metal, molding it into a lumpy, circular shape. With one mechanical hand, the mech brought the circle of metal to it's faceplate, studying it severely, before glancing down at the hand-drawn schematics on the table.

//Oh, that sucks,// the armor's speakers muttered critically. Zoar stuffed the entire durasteel ring back into the forge, to try anew.

He'd been doing this for hours, now. Trying to make this stupid ring a perfect circle. He'd been close once, only to discover that the balance of it was all wrong. That one had stung the most, almost making the Miln tear his fur out from inside his suit. Who knew that making a mechanically-advanced lightsaber would be this hard?

It wasn't like the other projects he did around the temple. Those were a cake-walk compared to this. At first, he only fixed things secretly, crawling around the walls and doing what he could to help out the Jedi. But ever since he'd built his power armor, became a Padawan, more and more people had been coming to him with their issues. It seemed like once a week, there was someone knocking on his door, asking him for assistance with a broken light fixture, or an S-foil servo actuator rusted shut.

Some days, it annoyed him, but most days, he just enjoyed feeling... useful.

Today, Zoar knew he needed a break. His brain was starting to hurt. Just one more try, he told himself, grabbing the ring from the fire to start again. Just one more try.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma came bursting through the door to the hangar. She looked around frantically before her gaze landed on the big armored figure at the workbench, but then seemed to abruptly grow timid and reserved when confronted with the need to actually converse with another being. Good thing necessity is a powerful motivator.

"Excuse me," she said in a tiny, soft voice. "Are you the person who fixes things?"

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

After a few seconds of waiting, the bare hands of the mech fished the disk from the superheated kiln, placing it gently on the table. Zoar raised his hammer once more, ready to mold it into the perfect shape. This time, he would...

"Excuse me."

Zoar flinched at the sudden interruption, his hammer falling a little too hard on one side of the ring, punching a hole into the metal. The armor squeaked in fear at the resulting clang, dropping the hammer, hands raised as if something poisonous had tried to bite him.

After a moment of nothing bad happening, Zoar tried to recover his cool, taking a quick breath, and slowly rotating the upper half of his body to regard his new company.

//Uh... Hi.// Zoar's voice, while digitized, sounded overly embarrassed. //Sorry for the- y'know- I-I just was spooked a little, 'sall.//

The suit fully turned to the little form of Thelma, sheepishly hiding it's enormous mitts behind it's body. //Yeah. That's me. Well, I'm sure there's more people out there that fix things, but I do. D-do that too, I mean.// He took another deep breath, the mech's body posture relaxing slightly.

//I'm Zoar. What do you need?//

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma flinched, more startled by the giant's reaction than the sound of the bowl being damaged. She blinked up at the powersuit as it its upper half rotated to face her.

Right. Her name, and her reason for being here. "I'm Thelma," she said. "Can you fix my sewing machine? I... probably should've brought it with me, so you could look at it..." She covered her eyes with her hand, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Let me go get it."

With that, she disappeared, returning roughly ten minutes later carrying a sewing machine. Despite her tiny frame, its weight didn't seem to bother her. "Here it is," she said, holding it up for Zoar to see. "Can you fix it?"

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

Zoar towered over the other Padawan, the intimidating, emotionless visage of his faceplate entirely contrasting the meek curiosity exhibited by the being within.

This was about a sewing machine? Zoar had never used one before, which was surprising, given his predilection to making things. Might as well give it a shot. But before he could say as much, Thelma was gone.

Weird. Usually, it was him making a hasty exit.

After a few minutes, she returned, easily lugging a sewing machine. Seeing her coming back, Zoar pushed his project to the side, tossing away the durasteel ring with a bit more contempt than he meant to. The mech reached out, and lifted the broken machine, tilting it back and forth to get a good look.

//I can... tryyyy. See what I can do.// Zoar set it on the table, his cyberware already scouring the holonet for it's model. //Did anything happen to it to break it, or did it just stop working?//

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"It just stopped working," she replied. "I thought it might have a short in the cord or something, but it still didn't work after I replaced it. I have some spare parts here..." From under her arm she produced a wooden box holding various bits and bobs.

The sewing machine was a rather ancient antique, but belonged to a class that had been built to last. It probably just needed a tune-up and some TLC.

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

Zoar clicked his tongue a few times, staring at the machine intensely. //Well... If it just stopped, we can probably just do a little basic maintenance, and it should be good to go. Won't know until we get these covers off, but... I'm optimistic.//

The mech hesitated, looking down at Thelma. This wasn't the kind of work he could perform with his armor's hands- it needed a more personal touch. But that meant...

//Could you... maybe turn around? I-I promise I won't hurt it, but... I don't like it when people watch me. Work,// he tacked on at the end. Assuming she was comfortable taking her eyes off her property, Zoar exited his mech, climbing out of it's chest to stand on the table.

"Soooo..." the Miln began, his voice noticeably more strained. "How did you get this? Th-the model's pretty old." Using a small screwdriver, Zoar began to carefully dismantle the covers of the sewing machine, laying them down gently around him.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"Right." Thelma was clearly very anxious to see the machine fixed, her green eyes enormous as she looked up at him hopefully. She hadn't been able to work for over twenty-four hours. Her fingers were itching to sew again.

Zoar asked her to turn around. Thelma thought this a strange request, but she complied, turning her back on him. There was a sound of a hatch being opened, then a soft thump as if something had landed on the table. Weird...

"How did you get this? Th-the model's pretty old."

Zoar's voice sounded strange. Had he been using a modulator? "Someone in my co—uh, in my family gave it to me. So it was like a, a family heirloom, I guess."

Thelma caught herself starting to turn her head a bit, trying to sneak a peek at Zoar. It was obvious that he was wearing some kind of big suit, so she couldn't help but be curious as to what he really looked like.

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

Zoar's true appearance would certainly be a surprise, were a certain sewing machine-less Padawan peeking a glance.

The Miln was short, not even cresting two-and-a-half feet, made shorter by kneeling over the machine. His long, rat-like face was scrunched in worry, as small, dexterous hands dismantled the protective covers, laying them daintily to the ground. Silvery technical implants ringed the back of the mousy Padawan's head, blinking with neon pinks as he processed the mechanics in front of him.

And, of course, he wore a rather stylish leather jacket, but that was neither here nor there.

"Someone in my co—uh, in my family gave it to me. So it was like a, a family heirloom, I guess."

"Cool," he conceded, finally digging into the guts of the machine with all the care and precision of a Jedi Master. "Um... That's nice of them to do."

"Ah... That's all the small talk I got. I don't talk to people much. Sorry." How do people speak for hours on end, much less just a few sentences?

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma was finding it more and more difficult to control her curiosity. Slowly but surely, her head turned, and green eyes peered toward Zoar, trying to catch a glimpse of his true form.

Oh my goodness, he's... adorable! Look at his ears, and his fur, and his little claws and tail!

"Ah... That's all the small talk I got. I don't talk to people much. Sorry."

Thelma quickly swiveled her head back to facing forward, red-faced with embarrassment. "Uh. 'kay."

They stood in silence.

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

"Uh. 'kay."

"Cool..." he responded, already feeling pinpricks of embarrassment across his skin. He kept his eyes pointedly on his work, cleaning out a bit of gunk that had cumulated over years of use. "Coooolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoooooooool..."

Awkward silence ensued. Zoar used the time to double his efforts. The sooner he got this done, the sooner this social situation would end.

"Sooo..." Zoar felt the need to fill the silence with some kind of noise. "You sew?"

"So? Sew? Heh."

Truly, the peak of comedy.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma snorted at his silly joke. "Yes, I do sew. I make and mend Jedi clothes for free, if you have anything you need sewn."

Now that she had seen Zoar's true eldritch form, much of the mystique was gone. But she couldn't help wondering... "Why do you wear that big suit? Just for protection?" She paused. "Or is the suit the 'real' you, kind of like how the helmet is the Bright Knight's true self?"

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

"Good. I'll remember that," the little mouse continued, hiding a sly smile. "I'm pretty alright at fixing most things, but when it comes to stitching, I'm kinda just... sew-sew."

Zoar scoffed at himself, before digging into the contraption below the needle. A little recalibration was in order.

"Why do you wear that big suit? Just for protection? Or is the suit the 'real' you, kind of like how the helmet is the Bright Knight's true self?"

"Like... the s-superhero?" Zoar chuckled, though his laughter hid a bitter edge. "No, not like that. Ummmm..."

How did he explain, without coming off as a total weirdo?

"I... get scared? Like... really easy. My species is sorta known for that. Like... being out and about? With people around? Sucks." He tried to downplay just how terrified he was of others. "Sure, Golem keeps me safe. I wanna be a Guardian one day, and... it's hard to do that, when you're small like me. But mostly... it lets me walk around, without... y'know."

"Oh, I finished like... halfway through that. Let's try it out, make sure it works." The Miln stepped back towards his mech, pausing as the droid's chest hissed open. Zoar considered it with nervous eyes.

What was the harm of a few more minutes of fresh air? He stepped away from the suit, glancing cautiously at Thelma, before staring down between his feet.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma giggled again. She couldn't help it. Nobody had ever tried to entertain her with goofy sewing puns.

It reminded her of her dad. Her laughter faltered, just a little.

"Yeah, like that." He explained his actual reason for wearing the suit. "So it is like a suit of armor or a costume. You feel safe in it." She could certainly sympathize. Making clothes were her escape, a means by which she could control how others saw her.

"Why do you want to be a Guardian?" she asked. "I wanna be a Consular, but my species can't really handle sapping too much of our energy."

Zoar said he had finished, but Thelma remained where she stood with her back turned to him. "Is it safe to turn around now, then?" she asked after a few awkward seconds of silence.

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

"So it is like a suit of armor or a costume. You feel safe in it."

Zoar wrung his hands together, nodding his head to himself. "Yeah. I guess so. Well, it literally is armor, so I guess that one more th-than the costume... But yeah."

She asked him why he wanted to be a Guardian. It had been a question on his mind a lot, as of late. As he truly dove into his Jedi studies, he'd thought a lot about his place in the order. There was a noticeable conviction to his voice as he answered. "Because I know what it's like to be scared. And I want to be someone who can protect those scared people, and tell them that everything's gonna be alright. That there's no need to fear." Then, with an embarassed tone, "L-like a superhero, I guess."

Thelma wanted to be a Consular? The Miln regarded her with curiosity. "Well, sounds like we both have uphill battles ahead of us. If you want to be a Consular, I say you try it. And... if we both fail, we can be maintenance buddies together." Zoar smiled nervously to Thelma, even though her back was turned.

"Is it safe to turn around now, then?"

"Uh..." He backed up another step away from Thelma. "Y-yeah. Go ahead."

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Once permission was given, Thelma slowly turned around to face Zoar... and couldn't quite keep the stupid little smile from her face. Yeah, he was still adorable. Although she knew better than to reduce a sentient being to something like a... like a pet, the cuteness factor could not be denied.

For a while she just stood there grinning like a goofball, then she remembered why she was actually there. "Should I try it and see if it works?" she asked, pointing to the sewing machine.

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

Thelma turned around, and Zoar immediately felt his discomfort spike. The little Miln crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the floor, acting as if his fellow padawan had caught him doing something wrong.

"Should I try it and see if it works?"

"Mmm-hmm." Zoar grabbed his tail, holding it in his hands, as he stepped back yet again from the machine. He was certain the machine would work now, he could retreat back into his mech...

No. Don't let fear control you. She won't hurt you.

Probably.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma approached the work table and began setting up the machine. She reached into her pocket, pulled out some thread and a small piece of fabric—she kept such items on her person at all times—and was able to sew the thread onto the cloth without any mishaps.

"It works," she declared, gratitude and relief visible in her face as she turned to Zoar. "Thank you. What do you want in return for the service?"

Zoar​

 

[Zoar]

Despite knowing, empirically, that the machine would sew, he still held his breath as the machine started, letting it out in relief as the device worked. Then he tried to play it off, as if he'd never had a doubt, smiling small and leaning his back against the shoulder of his mech.

"D-don't worry about it, Thelma. I-it really was easy. Just a quick tune-up, I can probably show you how to do it, if it happens again." The idea of payment for his services made the Miln shake his head emphatically. "I'm not going to charge you. We're Jedi. Helping is what we do."

Zoar checked his chrono, clicking his tongue, and clambering back into his mech, once more surrounding himself in durasteel and machinery. //But I do have to get going. There's a d-dueling class in the garden soon.//

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"I'd appreciate that," Thelma said. "But I still want to do something nice for..."

She trailed off as she watched Zoar scurry back into his suit. With the rattling of the hatches sealing shut, he seemed to be closing the discussion.

"Okay," she said, gathering up her sewing machine. "Thanks again, Zoar."

Zoar