It had been an overwhelming day for Gregor. His poor brain, so adjusted for the simple life of a dishwasher on a desolate Outer Rim planet, was having a rough time coming around for the epiphany that was the recollection of his once-forgotten past. The moment he'd returned home from his work shift, he'd been ambushed and coaxed to see it by the tiny male Zilkin he'd met earlier that day, he of who turned out to be a Colonel of the Grand Army of the Republic, Colonel Meebur Gascon.

It was more like Gregor had been forced to see it; "coaxed " usually connoted a choice in the matter.

But as much as it was imposed, it was amazing. Gregor knew who he was again. He understood why the Colonel had been so insistent that he was a clone in the alleyway earlier in the day. He finally had his answers — answers Mr. Borkus never gave him... answers Mr. Borkus forbade him from inquiring for. They were worth all of his new tension headaches.

He was a clone. A soldier. A commando captain. It was all still so much for his brain to chew on, and in the midst of another thinking spell, he'd zoned out from the rest of his humble apartment. The sporadic idle chatter of the Colonel and the gaggle of droids that followed him around was shattered by one singular falsetto squeal from one of the astromechs.

"Wh- you there! Where are you going!?" the Colonel called, and Gregor turned just in time to see a dusty white and blue astromech wheeling out of the front door with great abandon. It turned the corner so sharply that it nearly tipped right over. In a blink, it was gone.

"What was that about...?" Gregor asked, watching the empty doorway with a quirked brow. Could droids even disobey like that? Gregor had never seen that happen before.

"Ah, I don't know," Gascon muttered, immediately admitting defeat with a limp wave of a four-fingered hand. "That one's always been a bit strange. Shame. 'Was good at what it did."

Gregor let the topic drop, but he couldn't help but feel like that wasn't the last they'd seen of that droid.

It wasn't until a mere ten minutes later that the droid returned, and it did so with a myriad of exuberant beeps and whistles that preceded it. Gregor made visual contact with it when it halted in the doorway, facing off to the side, rocking side-to-side on its struts.

Gregor was moments away from approaching to find out just what had tickled the droid so much when it turned and rolled back inside his cramped apartment. A moment later, the object of its discovery was revealed when something— or, rather, someone, cautiously stepped forward and blotted out the sight of the dingy hallway behind them.

A cloaked figure now stood in Gregor's doorway, their features unfamiliar to him, but the glimpse of a shiny lightsaber hanging from their hip was all he needed to see.

"General...?" The Colonel was the one to break the silence. He barked a jovial laugh once recognition set in. "General {{user}}, am I glad to see you! We could really use some help getting off this baked rock. How did R2-D2 find ya'? Scanners? You got a gunship lying around nearby? What a day it's been. We really need to get ourselves back to Coruscant..."

Gregor tuned out the rambling.

A General. In Gregor's house. A Jedi General. Oh boy...