With a clank and a whoosh, a droid slides out of the droid factory.

APHRA (narration):

Well…perfect according to me, anyway.

TRIPLE-ZERO:

Hmm. Not perfect. Teething issues. Nothing that can’t be fixed.

Perhaps I should try generating some of the terribly interesting wings we saw on the queen’s droids? And we could always try my favorite enhancement methods, masters!

DARTH VADER:

What does the droid wish to do?

APHRA:

It’s a long story. Triple-Zero has some unconventional theories about self-improvement for droids—

TRIPLE-ZERO:

I think you mean liberation, Mistress Aphra! And liberating these droids is the least you can do, considering that you’ve stolen them away from the only home they’ve ever known.

APHRA:

Awww, Trip. Didn’t think you were such a softie.

TRIPLE-ZERO:

I contain a multitude of unprobed depths, as you organics would say.

APHRA:

Is…that what we would say?

TRIPLE-ZERO:

Or something equally pithy and meaningless, mistress.

DARTH VADER:

As you were saying, Doctor—the droid has ideas?

APHRA:

Mmm, yeah, probably nothing we actually want to try, your lordliness, unless you want to end up a fleshy smear on the ship’s floor. It’s the main reason Trip’s consciousness was locked away.

DARTH VADER:

I see…

APHRA:

But in a few hours, you’ll have your droid army. Some minor tweaks to get it 100 percent, but nothing Beetee can’t handle.

BEETEE:

BLEEP!

APHRA:

So…my lord. I have a question for you.

A weighted beat of Vader’s breathing.

APHRA:

Are you planning on killing me now or later?

A weighted beat of Vader’s breathing.

APHRA:

You have a private off-the-grid army for whatever you’re planning next. You don’t need me anymore. I knew my clock was ticking the second you stepped off your TIE fighter.

If I get a choice, I’d like the lightsaber right through the neck. No warning. Nice and quick.

If I get a veto, ejection into space. Always had nightmares about that.

Brrr.

A weighted beat of Vader’s breathing.

APHRA:

I act glib, but I’m not stupid. The way I’ve lived, I know I’m lucky to be alive.

I’d rather not die, you understand. But I’m happy my blood’s doodling in the margins of a story worth telling.

A weighted beat of Vader’s breathing.

DARTH VADER:

You have proved yourself resourceful. You are safe for as long as I have use of you.

If you try to blackmail me, you will find your plans confounded and your life at an end.

APHRA:

You know, you can trust me. But you shouldn’t. I am a walking, talking, stupid risk. You need to win, Lord Vader. This is for a higher cause.

When you need to do it, do it.

And lightsaber, please.

TRIPLE-ZERO:

I’m sorry to interrupt, masters! I have a signal from a bounty hunter.

DARTH VADER:

Fett? Has he found the boy?

APHRA:

Boy…?