Beyond - Legends Of Metal and Mettle (AU, c. LOTF; Ben, Corran, astromechs, philosophy)

A/N: Something else from the new AU I'm working on ... best described as 'What If Jacen Solo Didn't Return Openly During DNT?'

This is set in the same timeline as One Quiet Night Around the Damutek:

http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/31437004/p1/

DISCLAIMER: LFL's are LFL's. Marvel's are Marvel's. OCs are their own. This is a work of fiction. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue.

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40 ABY: Jedi Temple Droid Pool, Coruscant:
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"... yeah, that's jammed in there real tight ..."

Corran's brow furrowed as he heard the voice - human, male, teenaged, with a casual Coruscanti accent - rolling out the door of the droid pool.

He'd gone looking for Whistler, since it was getting close to launch time for the mission to Centerpoint and he wanted his old friend at his back - not that Corran was particularly looking forward to the mission, but he definitely felt that Centerpoint didn't belong in the hands of any government led by Thrackan Sal-Solo.

I thought we weren't expecting the apprentices to practice their mechanical skills on the droids ...

Corran peered around the corner, dampening his Force presence in a manner he didn't usually use any more, not since he'd become a full-time Council member. It was an unsettling reminder of how far he'd come from his days as a policeman and investigator (or fallen from those days? part of him wondered).

He blinked, taking in an unfamiliar tableau.

Several astromech droids, including Whistler, Artoo, and some other R-series - Anakin's R7, Fiver, and at least one R8-model among them - were gathered in a semi-circle as a teenaged boy in a black coverall examined them in turn. His red hair was cut above the ear, but otherwise was a mess, while his eyes were hidden by combination micro-optics/welder's goggles, and a tool kit hung from his belt.

Oh, Corran realized, feeling a bit foolish.

Of course it'd be him.

"Ah, there it is," the youth said to Whistler, pulling on some chunk of metal embedded in the green-and-white astromech's left foot. "Hold real still, OK?"

"Fre-weep dwooot ... bweet," Whistler replied, sounding both wary and resigned. Corran couldn't help but smile a little; like most astromechs who hadn't undergone a memory wipe, Whistler had developed his own, unique personality, that of a sage profiler and investigator. Despite Binary's relative inscrutability to the average organic, all the whistles and beeps did mean something, and someone who put in enough of an effort could figure out the general meaning of the "noise."

The boy grinned a little and said, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Here we go."

He took a pair of hydropliers from his tool kit and took hold of the offending piece of metal jammed in Whistler's foot, then pulled.

A loud CRACK! rang out, and the boy tumbled backwards, muttering curses in Basic, Huttese, and what Corran thought might've been an attempt at Shriiywook.

"Twee-DWEET! Twee-dwoot bwee-dweet?" Artoo asked, rolling over quickly to the youth. The boy just smiled, sitting up, and patted the astromech on the dome before swapping the hydropliers for a fusion welder.

"Thanks, pal, but I'm OK. Seriously, though, Whistler, how'd you get that stuck in there? Looked like you scraped a cubed landspeeder or something," the boy said, fixing the remaining "wound" to Whistler's foot before standing and stretching.

"Dweep-bee-dwoop dee dewoot. Freepeet!" Whistler tweedled, sounding grateful. He rocked back and forth, then turned his dome toward Corran and called, "Beep-dwee-tweet!"

"Good to see you too. I could've taken care of that, if you'd asked," Corran said, patting Whistler's dome when the astromech rolled over to him and nudged him in a friendly greeting.

"Dweet ... dweep-tweet-dweeoot," Whistler replied, a mixture of embarrassment, frust