Disclaimer:

Yoda sez: Own any part of KOTORII, Donutmaster does not. Ploy to take over Lucasarts, failed it has.

Donutmaster sez: sob

Chapter 1: Robots can be Heroes Too

Somewhere out in the deep reaches of the galaxy, a disheveled hunk of metal that had once been a spacecraft drifted, devoid of activity. Almost half of the ship had been blown apart, the ragged edges of hull black and glossy, melted by the intense heat of turbolaser blasts. The entire section was silent as only the vacuum of space could be.

In the other side of the ship, a thin atmosphere was retained, reeking of death and the faint remnants of sweat and panic. The center of the ship was by far the most untouched. Heavy doors had snapped shut, sealing off the areas of the vessel that could hold no air. Very little disturbance had taken place here. There where a few small items strewn about the floor, evidence that the artificial gravity systems where still functional, thrown from various cabinets and other stowing places. One door that had not shut led to the cockpit, where small warning light flashed on and off incessantly, regardless of the fact that there was no one there to notice.

In the silence of this control room, a faint scratching was heard, a sign of life in this place of horrible death. It originated from the chassis of a T3 model utility droid as numerous emergency systems booted and diagnostics where taken. Tiny indicators switched on and the electronic eye of the droid sputtered to life.

"Dwooo…" the droid said as a man would say "Oh…my aching head…"

Erratically and with a worrying scraping sound, T3-M4 looked up and around. The cockpit was devoid of anyone else. He would give anything for a nice, long lubricant bath but, for now, he had that to look forward too. With more sounds of metallic friction, T3-M4 scraped and shuddered out of the corner he had wedged himself into and turned to look at all the indicators and skimmed over the monitors that hadn't been destroyed.

One particularly caught his android eye. It was the one that had 'CRITICAL CONDITION' on it in large, red letters.

"Bleep," said T3 and lurched away down the corridor as quickly as his motivators could carry him until he got to into the center of the ship. A computer terminal jetted out of the mainframe-slash-holoprojector that lurked in the middle of the room and T3 managed to plug into it on his fourth try. A quick once over indicated that the only way that this ship was going to move again was if it got pushed by an asteroid. Again T3 sighed his mechanical sigh and switched over to the medical computer. This also seemed strange. No one had ever bothered to download medical processes to his memory but he nevertheless figured that the human heart shouldn't be 175 beats per second at rest.

First though, he found a scattered repair kit on the floor and wisely decided to weld onto his self the more important pieces that had either fallen off or been blown up. This included much of his self indeed and he felt much better after even that lightning patch job. A quick liaison with a packet of cheap grease made a world of difference and T3 now moved briskly rolled to the medical bay.

The door to the medbay was locked, but T3 was more than qualified to slice it open. After ten seconds, the door squeaked open on damaged servomotors.

Even a droid could tell that this man was in bad shape. T3 noticed that his face was a much whiter shade than any he'd ever seen before and there was an eerie chattering sound which turned out to be the man's teeth as his body fell into seizure.

"Bleep!" T3 cried, "Bleep-doo-beep!"

The medical computer responded with, "PATIENT IN SHOCK: REQUIRES TREATMENT IMMEDIATELY"

"Dwooo…beep BEEP!"

"PATIENT IN SHOCK REQUI-"

"BEEP!"
"IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO IT,"

"Beep-boop. BEEP-BLEEP-Squeal!"

"JUST PRESS THE BUTTON ON THE CASING! STUPID UTILITY DROIDS."

"BEEP!" T3 snapped angrily. "BEEP-BLOOP!"

"ALRIGHT, THERE'S NO NEED TO USE THE LASER! PRESS THE BUTTON!"

T3 extended his arm and grabbed a medpac that had been thrown to the other side of the medical room. He pressed the button and a small red light on it turned on."

"PUT THE NEEDLE IN."

"Beep!"

"YES 'IN'! ORGANICS DON'T HAVE ACCESS PANELS. PUT IT IN RIGHT ABOVE THE LEFT ELBOW." The computer sighed.

"Bleep?"

"THE MIDDLE JOINT OF THE LEFT UTILITY APPENDAGE." The medical computer translated.

"Boop."

With great care, the hypodermic needle punctured the skin of the fevered man and the red light turned green and a little whirring started inside.

"Bleep-dwo?"

"SELECT 'KOLTO SHOCK TREATMENT #1'."

T3 did so. A pinkish liquid could be seen running through the translucent tube from the medpac and into the patient's body.

"Beep dwoo…" T3 said.

"YES, I KNOW. HORRID, ISN'T IT?"

"Dwoo…"

After a minute or so, the young man's convulsions slowed and finally stopped. A sigh passed his lips and a faint snoring replaced the frightening chattering.

"PATIENT STATUS: STABLE. GOOD JOB. I DIDN'T THINK UTILITY MODELS COULD IMPROVISE."
"Bleep." T3 snapped sarcastically as he headed out. He had much to do to get the ship working and didn't need to take this from some hardwired boltjob.

"BLEEP YOURSELF, TRASH CAN."