A Tap on the Casing

Stiff joints. That was the first thing that cleared—a faint click in my right elbow, followed by actual, voluntary movement. I took a cautious half-step forward across the smooth speckled marble. Right beside me stood a compact black-and-gold astromech droid, cold and motionless. Naturally, I couldn't resist testing my luck. I reached out and gave its metal dome a light rap with my gloved knuckle. A dull, hollow thud echoed off the black crate behind us. No alarms, no zapping defense grid, just solid salvage-grade plating waiting to be cracked. Excellent.