Beep, <Friend Jedi not have parts to fix. Kept in storage.> 

"Well, I'm sure there's a nice big crate somewhere in the cargo hold where it can stay. Unless you have objections?" she says to both T3 and Atton.

"I have objections! Many objections! How do you know you can trust that bucket of bolts, anyway," he waves at T3, "For all we know it was working with the assassin droids!"

Outraged deep! <T3 friend to Friend Sharra! T3 not hurt!> 

"I don't think he's working with the assassin droids. And he just showed me a holo of Rhae - Revan," she corrects, "and it confirmed that he sent T3 to look for me. Plus Isk trusts him and I trust Isk."

Ugh, "Fine, fine, don't say I didn't warn you. Can you take it to the cargo hold on your own? I really do need the fresher. You know, now that it's not being used as storage for a murder droid." 

"I'll get it done. Somehow."

T3?

T3 reaches out a magnetic limb and clamps onto HK-47, helping her lift it!

<T3 help,> he confirms. 

"Great, be right out." 

He ducks back into the fresher, closing the door behind him.

Sharra rolls her eyes and continues on with the job.

In the cargo hold: "So this is the HK unit the others are based on?"

<Probable,> T3 offers, <Uncertain. Was famous in hunting circles. Not surprising.> 

He lifts his arm, taking HK with it, until the droid's inactive chassis is hanging over the half-open top of an empty crate.

Sharra finishes the job and fits it in snug in the crate. Then secures the lid... and locks it with a passcode. She makes sure T3 can see.

"Makes me nervous," she explains, sheepishly.

Understanding dwoo, <Would approve,> he offers, <HK-47 appreciate paranoia.> 

She smiles again, and reaches down to run a hand over his 'head'.

"You're a good little bot. I can see why he trusted you so much."

Happy tweeting! 

Petpetpet. So cute.

Now, food. Hopefully it hasn't gone too cold in the meanwhile.

She hasn't been gone long! Also, Atton has the lid half on the pot again, and is poking at the steaming stew within. 

"What is it?" he asks as she enters, glancing over at her. 

"Zaldrie fire-breath stew. Or as close as I could make it with what we had."

"Huh. Never heard of it." 

He scoops out a spoonful and takes a careful sip.

"-hooo," he drops the spoon to fan his tongue! 

Giggles! She steps up close to him and hands him a cup of water. "The other pot is for the weak."

He drinks! 

"I'm the weak," he says, morosely. 

She kisses his spicy lips. "I like 'em weak."

-he flushes, "Ah. Good?" 

He ladles himself a bowl out of the mild pot.

More giggles. She ladles up two bowls of the spicy. "You wanna eat in the dorm? I'll take this to Kreia and meet you there."