Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, nor do I own HK-47, or ANYTHING Star Wars except for my collection of Hasbro merchandise. This story is a simple KOTOR fanfic, and I have/am/will not made/making/make a single penny from it. I'm not a rich man, either, so if you sue me, I won't have much to give. You'll be wasting your time, your money, and (if you have one) your lawyer's time. PLEASE, save us all the trouble.
2
The Master has sent for me. I have spent most of the day in maintenance. Now, the Master says he needs me for a special assignment. So, I leave maintenance and make my way to the part of the ship that is normally restricted for Force sensitive organics only. I, as Lord Revan's personal bodyguard, am one of the very few select droids and non-Force sensitive organics who are permitted entrance.
I find the Master conversing quietly with three Dark Jedi students. Malak stands silently across the room. His lip curls and is left eye twitches as I enter the chamber. I believe that this is a human expression of disgust, an feeling Malak has apparently felt toward me ever since I defeated him in combat. Oh, poor, foolish organic.
The Master, meanwhile, holds up one finger towards me in a "just a moment" expression and motions for me to join Malak.
I do so, standing just two feet apart from the glaring organic. At first, he ignores me. Finally, he sighs, and turns to me, most likely hoping that he can torture me for his amusement again.
"So..." he begins, not quite meeting my photoreceptors, "How do you like the Sith so far?"
"Statement," I say, "The Sith Order has many opportunities to offer me. I am quite proud to serve such an organization. They keep me in prime condition, not to mention the Master provides me with plenty of organics to have fun blasting."
"Is blasting things all that you think about?" asks Malak.
"Answer: mostly," I say. "Combat is wonderful fun, as a Sith Master such as yourself should know, and for me, there is nothing more satisfying than to watch any organic explode from a blast that you fired...that is, any organic but the Master, of course."
"And you would gladly blast me as you would any other organic, right?" asks Malak.
I think about this for a moment.
"Affirmative: yes," I say, "I would have an extra lot of fun blasting you."
"HK-47, could I ask you something that I've been curious about since I met you?" he asks.
"Statement: you certainly may, but knowing your normal behavior pattern, you may not like my answer," I tell him.
"What do you think of me, besides my being 'the Master's troublesome apprentice who needs to be blasted?' I know you must have some other opinion because I find it hard to believe that Revan would program you to be so simple-minded."
I study him carefully. What exactly do I think of Malak? A difficult question to answer. After approximately one minute, I notice how full of squishy, meaty parts he is, and how those parts are constantly sloshing around underneath his protective skin tissue. A very...unsettling vision indeed. If I were an organic myself I would most likely shudder.
"Answer: I think of you as an organic meatbag," I say.
Malak stands very still, and stares silently at me for several seconds. "What did you say?!" he bursts out, finally.
"Repetition: I think of you as an organic meat-"
"I heard what you said, you stupid rusty contraption!" he shouts, "What, wh - what...what is a meatbag?!"
By now, Malak has startled the Master and the Dark Jedi students, who come running over.
"What the hell is going on here?" the Master asks angrily.
"I just asked that - that - that...thing...what he thought of me, and he called me an 'organic meatbag!' "
"A what?" asks the Master. "What's a meatbag?"
"Ask it!" shouts Malak.
"Explanation," I say, "I noticed how many squishy parts you organics have underneath your skin tissue, constantly sloshing around in all that water...ooh, a very...unpleasant picture indeed. You poor, poor, organics. At least we droids will never have to face this problem."
While Malak glares furiously at me, the Master starts to laugh.
"All right, all right. Enough funny stuff for now," the Master says. "Students, I will need you to leave now."
The three Dark Jedi students leave the room, looking somewhat curious and disappointed.
"The reason I called you both here," begins the Master, "is that we have a major problem. I have just received word that a small Jedi task force has discovered the location of the Star Forge."
Malak grimaces. I, meanwhile, am confused. The Star Forge is mentioned in my memory banks, but with no clear details. All that I know is that it is something of great importance to the Sith.
"Query: what exactly is the Star Forge, Master?"
"I can't tell you that, HK," says the Master. "All I can afford to let you know is what's already in you memory banks. What if you were captured?"
"Objection: I will never let that happen!" I shout.
"I still cannot risk it," says the Master. "Anyway, several Jedi were apparently sent to find the source off our fleet. By the time we one of our ships spotted them, they were already preparing to return to Coruscant. Our forces were able to damage their ship enough to prevent them from entering Hyperspace, and they barely managed to slip into a nearby remote system.
"The system has three planets. Each of us will lead a squad onto one of those planets and try to find them before they can repair their ship. If the Republic finds the Star Forge...it won't be pretty.
"Before either of you ask 'why us,' I chose you two because the Jedi Council would never have sent anyone but their strongest Masters for something like this, and you two are my best warriors. Plus, this will be a very good test for you, HK."
The Master has officially declared me one of his two best warriors. Oh! The pride that I feel right now!
"Malak," begins the Master, cutting into my thoughts, "Go get ready. HK, follow me. I just thought of a thing or two I'd like to do before you leave."
"Obedient: as you desire, Master," I say, wondering what he has planned.
The Master takes me to maintenance, and instructs me to shut down.
"You'll be reactivated in an hour or so," he says. "I just have a few modifications for you."
I believe that his tone of voice would be considered "mischievous," so I am worried slightly, but he is the Master, after all, and the Master is the Master.
"Compliance: very well, Master," I say.
Signing off...
Shutting down...
Initializing...
Detecting changes in some systems...
New programing added...
Retrieving new data...
Data retrieved: all organic meatbags must be referred to as such.
Error...
New programing contradicts existing programing that states that the "Master" must be referred to as such.
All other systems functional...
The Master stands in front of me, staring eagerly. "How do you feel, HK?" he asks.
"Answer: I am in prime condition, meatbag Master," I say.
"I think it worked," the Master mutters happily. "Okay, are you ready to go?" he asks, louder.
"Answer: Of course, meatbag Master," I say."
"Good. Follow me. We are going to the port docking bays. When you see Malak, I want you to go up to him and greet him."
"Obedient: Yes, meatbag Master," I say. Now I understand his plan. He is hoping that my new programing will severely irritate Malak. It probably will, which is fine with me.
We enter the docking bays, where three shuttles are waiting; one for the Master, one for Malak, and one for me. Malak is also waiting for us. As the Master has instructed me, I walk up to greet him.
"Greeting: hello to you, meatbag Malak," I say loudly.
"Malak's facial expression is somewhat of a mixture of rage and surprise. "Did you just call me a meatbag again?!" he demands.
"Affirmative," I reply, "Yes, I did."
"I changed his programming," says the Master, smirking.
"Agreement: indeed he did. All organic meatbags must now be referred to as such. The only problem is the confusion of whether to address the meatbag Master as "Meatbag" or "Master."
"I'll fix that soon enough," says the Master. "For now: HK-47, activate Assassination Protocol."
Activating Assassination Protocol...
Assassination Protocol active.
Provide target(s).
The Master hands me a datapad, whose contents I download into my memory banks.
Targets: One. Divalone Haray, Jedi Master. Description: male Twi'lek, thirty-seven standard years of age, orange skin color.
Two: Vawo Jalaan, Jedi Master. Description: female Human, thirty-one standard years of age, dark hair, dark skin color.
Three: Thunal Roak, Jedi Master. Description: male Human, forty-six standard years of age, red hair, light skin color.
Targets acquired.
"Very well Master," I say, "I shall leave at once to search for the Jedi."
"Good," replies the Master.
He boards one shuttle, and Malak boards another. I board the third one. The planet I am sent to is very rocky, with the occasional, though uncommon, forest or lake.
During the journey, I spend every moment preparing my weapons, stuffing my built-in compartments with all the accessories that will fit in, quintuple-checking my plating for the slightest, tiniest hole. This will be my first battle against living Jedi meatbags...if this is the planet they fled to, of course. Anyway, I want everything perfect for this mission. When the shuttle lands on the top of a small hill, I walk towards the exit ramp with utmost confidence in my abilities. So imagine my shock when my foot touches the rock, and a blast of electricity from an unseen enemy causes me to abruptly shut down.
Author's notes: cliffhangar there, for ya! R&R, please!
