#kedreeva

The clone was now awake and seemed very unhappy about the new development involving two sets of binders and the removal of his weapons.

You cleared your throat and straightened your posture, crossing your arms over your chest. Cheep mimicked you, crossing his tool arms in place of real ones.

“Are you with the Empire?”

“No. I told you, I’m here to retrieve a droid. That droid,” he said with a pointed glare at Cheep, who immediately scooted behind your legs, bravado forgotten.

“Cheep isn’t going anywhere with you,” you told the impetuous clone, “especially if you’re taking him back to that spice-dealing scum.”

“Then we have a problem, because I’m not leaving without him.”

“You’re not leaving at all! You’re the one in binders!”

The clone removed his hands from behind his back, the binders in fact, gone, and then proceeded to release the binders around his ankles with a simple spark of his scomp link.

You grabbed the pistol on the workbench and aimed it at him, trying not to think about how quickly this was spiraling out of control.

“Stay back!”

Cheep rolled in front of you, pulling out his stun tools and firing them up in a display that didn’t impress the clone. He simply glared at you as if you were the inconvenience, and his patience was wearing thin.

“Put down the blaster.”

“No,” you growled. “You’re not taking him.”

“Are you really going to shoot me to keep that from happening?”

He asked as if genuinely curious. Or maybe he was just stalling for time.

 “I don’t want to, but I will.”

He stared at you for a long moment, studying your features with that same consideration, and then he gave a small shrug.

“Despite the fact you’ve never held a blaster before, I believe you.”

You frowned.

“I’ve held a—”

The clone lunged before you could fire, grabbing your hand and squeezing your fingers so you couldn’t grasp the trigger. He moved behind you, yanking the pistol out of your grip and pinning your arms to your chest with his scomp link. You kicked out with your legs, but he simply held you off your feet, taller and stronger than you even with one prosthetic arm.

“Let me go!”

The clone pointed the blaster at Cheep, who was just about to stab at the clone with his cutting tools.

“Don’t do it, droid. The client only needs your memory banks intact, not the rest of you.”

Cheep backed up but sputtered angrily, cursing the clone and the tube he came from.

“You bastard!” you seethed through your teeth, your struggles failing to dislodge you from his grip. “I thought you of all people would understand. He fought in the war, just like you.”

The clone went still.