Fires Of Liberty
Owner of HK-77
Standing at .8 meters tall, Kali is shorter than the average, already tiny, Chadra-Fan. Her fur has a red tinge to it that she’s quite proud of, if she does say so herself.
She wears simple clothing, an oil-stained gray jumpsuit with a hunter green vest with more pockets than the average being would know what to do with but that she fills with little odds and ends—nuts, bolts, scraps of wire, batteries—and, one time, a parts from bomb she stole so she could turn it into something useful.
Her utility belt always has her smaller, most used tools ready for her to play with.
Kali was still an infant when her parents were killed after getting involved with the wrong people in the way that the too forgiving Chadra-Fan were wont to do. They’d been researchers at the Kuat Drive Yards and a mechanic human friend of theirs took the tiny girl in.
While Kali never took their name, she grew up happily with Ashibra Hidack and his wife Mirecel. As she grew up, they’d bring home scraps from where they worked and would watch as she played with them. It didn’t take long before she was making things—never really useful, but they all delighted her. Her foster-parents had two children of their own—Kamin and Sharus—and Kali never resented the infants—though she thought they grew up rather slowly. Instead she made things for them to play with or enchant them into sleep.
Kali was able to watch her siblings while they were small so their parents could work enough to put food on the table, but they soon grew too big for the tiny Chadra-Fan to handle. So instead, she offered to work herself so one of them could stay home. At first, Ashibra and Mirecel didn’t want her too—she was small and wasn’t hardly thirteen.
She managed to convince them, reminding them she was already quite skilled with mechanics.
They got her a job. It didn’t pay a ton—she had no professional experience. The only way the could swing it at all was that she was a Chadra-Fan. They wouldn’t let her give them all her money, though, so she started saving up because she couldn’t really think of anything she’d want at the time.
For something of a year, she was happy. She got to handle mechanics all day and once they saw her skill, they promoted her to a higher paying job. But she soon grew bored of doing something similar day in and day out. Manufacturing jobs didn’t exactly encourage originality—even if the engines they designed weren’t quite as efficient as they could be.
After that year, she stopped complaining about that and just started putting her own tweeks on the ships they put out. Small things at first; nothing the others would notice. But they started to satisfy the urge to create. Until they didn’t. So she went a bit farther. And farther. Until one of her coworkers did notice. He stayed quiet, though. No harm, no foul, right?
And they worked. That’s what mattered.
Kali got away with it until something malfunctioned. It had nothing to do with her additions, of course. But when the owner of the ship tried to fix it, he noticed exactly how much was different than the average starship. He complained.
It turns out people don’t like it when you improve their ships without telling them how and will blame you if something goes wrong even if it had nothing to do with your improvements.
She got a bit fired.
Which would have been depressing if she hadn’t been getting tire of it. And she had enough in savings to find herself another job before she’d actually have to worry. If that, even.
She took to wandering before looking for a new job. If she fixed things (like that speeder owned by a nice older couple and their grandson) for free, sometimes without asking (it took quite a while to explain to the not-so-nice man that she’d improved his vehicle for free). It was on one of these days she saw some children abusing a lone droid.
Kali couldn’t stand for that. Not only because it was wrong, but because how dare they mistreat a piece of machinery like that!
But the children were bigger than her. And she wasn’t exactly good at violence. But she had the perfect pitch and ear of her people so she let out a screech that would rake at their ears, doing her best to look like she’d lost her mind as she hissed at them. Apparently they hadn’t wanted to deal with a half-mad Chakra-fan and ran off.
Looking up at the droid, she asked him to sit and started to repair him post-haste.
After that it seemed she’d gained a droid named HK-77.
It wasn’t too long after that she stumbled into an auction. Saw an old YT-1000 called Carnwennan with more claws and speed than typical models and fell in love. Luckily she was one of only a few people interested and soon the Carnwennan, affectionately nicknamed Cari.
Once she had her ship, she needed to use it. She wasn’t ready to become a smuggler (yet) but she could definitely ferry cargo and their people across the galaxy. Never mind this business with the First Order—people would get that handled quickly.
Liam Durane approached her for passage to explore the galaxy. Or bring food to starving people. Or something. She honestly wasn’t paying too much attention because here was an excuse to leave! On her ship! She said goodbye to her family, promising them she’d return with stories and souvenirs for her siblings.
And they were off!
And then they weren’t!
She found out she should have spent more time looking at the hyperdrive before traveling the stars because it broke down in the Ibaar system and even she couldn’t make due without getting some parts. They weren’t able to find them at first and while going back to the ship, she felt her heart break because someone had taken Cari.
So now she, HK-77 and her passenger were stuck on a planet with a famine going on.
She might leave those out of the stories when she got back home.