Carry RZ-7

RZ-7 interjected on his own behalf: “If I may, I can vouch for Master Karr. He is an honorable—”

But when the officer didn’t lower his arm, Karr resorted to an old tactic. “Wait!” he yelled. “Don’t do it! I have a condition. I get these headaches, and Arzee is the only medical droid who has the knowledge and the expertise to help me. Please! I need him.”

The officer paused, finally lowering his arm. “I’m sorry to hear that, son. Because we both know he isn’t really a medical droid. And that means you’re a liar.”

The blast that hit RZ-7 sent him across the room, separating his arm from his body. “Arzee!” Karr shrieked. Without a second thought for himself, he leapt out of his chair and dropped to his knees at RZ-7’s side. “Why did you—How did you…know?”

The officer stood up from his chair. “We know a lot of things, kid.”

He turned his datapad around and pushed it across the table. With a couple of taps on the screen, the officer brought up a holo—and it began to play.

[...]

Once the ship’s landing gear was fixed firmly and he had powered everything down, Karr grabbed what he could of RZ-7’s remaining parts and threw them into a bag. He grabbed the bulk of the droid’s body around the waist, and the two of them exited the ship like old friends coming home from a party. Only Karr wasn’t ready to celebrate. He was ready for answers.

When he finally got home, he slammed the door behind him and stormed past his brother, shouting “Where are mom and dad?” Not waiting for an answer, he made a beeline for the living room, where he found his mother measuring the waist of a clothing mannequin.


- Force Collector, Chapters 18 and 19