Was brought to the outer rim by a doctor who thought he could strike it rich running a clinic. Medicine however, was not lucrative for him, and he fell upon hard times. When his debts grew too large, he sold his droid to members of a local crime syndicate.

He spent the next decade or so of his life as a back alley doctor patching up after bar fights and shootouts.

ZW believes in "doing no harm" but after one too many encounters with angry thugs, has modified his definition of harm. If they'll live, they weren't really all that harmed.

Relationship: The party. The party treats him well, almost never tries to steal drugs from his workshop, and never threatens to melt him down into slag. This puts them head and shoulders above anyone else, so he will risk his life to keep them up and healthy.

Debt: Though self aware, ZW is technically the property of one of the party members.

Resembles a 2-1B Medical Droid, but has been outfitted with more dexterous hands to allow for the performance of complex procedures. He wears a heavy clothing to keep sand out, and because he desires to seem more human, thinking it will put his patients at ease.

He is heavily rusted in a number of places, and resembles a droid assembled from scrap, though his functioning is top notch.