Disclaimer: Star Wars is copyright to George Lucas and Lucasfilm, Ltd. No infringment of this copyright is intended by the writing and posting of this fanfic.
Like My Hero
By Dancingkatz
The corridors of the base were quiet today. No one was hurrying to and fro with important messages. No one was blocking traffic with impromptu conferences in the intersections. In fact, Ethreedeesix rather missed the atmosphere of purpose that had been the norm for the past ten weeks.
He continued making his way towards the base's maintenance areas, greeting those few individuals he saw with his usual politeness. Of course, very few bios even acknowledged his greeting but he was used to that. After all, there weren't very many of them who could converse with an astromech droid without the assistance of a translator. And right now the translators had more important things to do than tell a bio that a droid had said "good morning".
For once, there was no hold up at the lifts. He trundled through the doorway and extended one of his manipulators to request the ship maintenance hangar. Just before the door slid shut, two bios ran in, panting and out of breath.
"I tell you, this isn't the way I wanted to start the day," the shorter of the two said. "I thought you said you set the wake up alarm for 0500?"
"I said I was sorry," his companion muttered. "I don't know what they want us for today anyway. We weren't tasked for any of the mission flights."
"I'm sure we'll find out. After the deck officer gives us what for because we're late."
The lift's door opened and the two more or less bolted into the hangar. Ethreedeesix followed at a more reasonable pace. Really, the maintenance bays were no place to move too quickly, what with all the feedlines and cables and everything.
He went to the maintenance controller's desk and checked in.
"Hello, Deesix. I have a full schedule for you today. The X-wing in bay three needs all its power converters overhauled. And the A-wing in four had its sensor array blown all the way to Kessel and back. They need to be up and green by 2000."
Well, there was no reason why he shouldn't be able to repair the craft by then. He could probably be done before the swing shift arrived. After all, he was expert at his job. Deesix whistled cheerfully at the controller and headed for bay number three.
Some hours later, he'd finished the overhaul and was starting work on the A-wing in bay four. The sensor array wasn't, despite the controller's words, blown all the way to Kessel and back, but it was severely damaged. After running some troubleshooting diagnostics, he decided that it would be easier to replace the entire array and do the repairs at leisure on the bench.
However, supply didn't have a sensor array available for issue. They didn't have any more and they didn't know when one would be available. Whistling in disgust, Deesix requisitioned dataflex and micro modules. Now he'd have to do it the hard way, leaving an otherwise perfectly good ship unusable. You would think that supply would monitor use of components and avoid this sort of thing.
The swing shift technicians were just checking in when he finished the painstaking job of rebuilding the sensor matrix. Luckily, the micro modules that had been damaged were all replaceable with ones that were in stock. Unfortunately, none were programmed and he wasted quite a bit of time doing programming installations once they were in place.
He ran a last diagnostic then went to report that both craft were repaired and ready to be moved to the storage hangar until they were needed. He expected to be given another repair job to do as it was still fairly early, but to his surprise the maintenance controller told him to report to the ready room to get his programming for a recon mission.
Startled, Deesix checked out of the maintenance hangar and went to report. He was a little excited. He was apparently going to go on a real mission! Just like the famous Artoo-Detoo! Ever since Deesix had joined the Rebellion against the Empire, he'd done mostly repair work and his dreams of partnering a famous rebel pilot had been shoved to the back of his memory banks. Now he was going to be helping with a recon mission.
He had to wait for the lift this time and the corridors were crowded again. He gathered that the mission had gone well from the talk around him. He would have liked to ask what actually happened but he was under orders and couldn't dawdle.
When he got to the ready room, he was one of five astromech droids there to receive navigation data and flight programming. He joined the line and had a pleasant chat with two of his compatriots while they waited. Unfortunately none of his companions had been involved with the mission and they could tell him nothing. He watched as a group of pilots came in and wondered which of the orange-suited figures he'd be partnered with.
Once he had the appropriate co-ordinates and flight information safely stowed in his memory banks, he met his pilot. It was the taller of the two bios that had shared the lift with him this morning. He burbled a polite greeting and shut down the resulting pang of disappointment when the bio only muttered "Come on" and walked from the room not even looking to see if Deesix was following. As he followed his pilot to the launch bay, he chided himself. Really, was this a logical way to behave? He was only filling in for another droid, after all. He couldn't expect a fabulous rapport within the first thirty nanoseconds, could he?
Actually, once the X-wing was launched and in hyperspace, things were rather boring. Deesix had queried his pilot via the intra-ship commlink and was disappointed to be told to wake the bio just before they were to come out into normal space. He set a countdown subprogram running and turned his circuits to consideration of hyperspace's peculiar marbled dimension. He'd not managed to be near a viewport when the maintenance ship went into hyperspace and since the base moved groundside, he'd hardly been off the planet. It was pretty, he decided.
The countdown program ended and he piped a recording of reveille to his pilot's headsets. It really wasn't a nice thing to do but Deesix secretly enjoyed the startled jump and oath as the pilot awakened from whatever dream he'd been engaged in.
Deesix gave the warning for return to sublight before the pilot could make any other complaint. The sublight engines cut in, the hyperdrive disengaged, and they were suddenly flying through the star-spangled blackness of normal space.
Deesix relinquished piloting control and observed as the bio sent the X-wing towards a cluster of lights that didn't look the same as the other stars. Deesix assumed that these odd lights must be the recon target as their location coincided with the navigation data he'd been given.
As they drew closer, the largest of the lights resolved into an Imperial Star Destroyer. It looked exactly like the holos stored in the central computer at the base. Belatedly, Deesix noticed that his pilot had activated the holo-cameras and the auxiliary flight recorder. As the little X-wing looped around to approach the Star Destroyer from a different angle, the other lights proved to be a convoy of freighters, tugs, and a number of shuttles. There was also some scattered TIE fighters patrolling as well. As the X-wing pulled up and executed a parabolic turn, Deesix admitted that his pilot was really very good. He was passing close enough to identify the targets but was flying so fast that the enemy didn't get a chance to fire their lasers.
Just as Deesix hoped they were finished and going to head for home, four TIE fighters attacked them. The bio cursed and began to dodge and jig, trying to keep any of the attacking craft from getting a lock on the X-wing. Deesix couldn't help squeaking with fright as another laser blast just missed the X-wing's fuselage. The shields flared as two shots hit the nose and then went out. A third shot scored the hull plates just in front of him. Deesix extended his manipulators and tried to repair what he could. No one had told him how hard it was to pay attention to what you were doing when you were being shot at. His pilot fired their lasers and continued to dodge but four to one was too much. Before Deesix could get the shields back up, a laser bolt made a direct hit on the X-wing's canopy. Horrified, Deesix realized that his pilot had ceased to function.
Later, Deesix wouldn't be able to say just what caused him to make the decision he did as the X-wing continued to fly, now pilotless. However, he activated his direct link controls and began to fly the ship himself. Maybe it was a survival program, one buried deep in his memory banks with the initial program that had made him self-aware when he was manufactured. He retrieved the technical specifications of the ship, information on physics and motion dynamics and used the knowledge to fly the X-wing as no bio ever could. He pushed the craft to the limits of its specs and taking advantage of the faster-than-reflex processing speed of his robotic brain managed to avoid any more hits by enemy fire. He made a final maneuver to get in line with his hyperspace entry point and fired his lasers. He saw all four TIE fighters blow up in succession. Then he activated the hyperdrive and headed for home.
By the time he was ready to emerge from hyperspace, he had determined that his pilot was non-repairable. As soon as he was in normal space he activated the comm and requested assistance. Comm control requested a status report and he sent them a hasty data stream, plaintively asking for assistance landing the ship. The comm was silent for a moment and asked about his pilot. Upon being informed that the bio had ceased to function, a rescue crew was mobilized and the battered X-wing was guided to a safe landing.
The bios all rushed towards what was left of the cockpit as soon as the landing skids touched down. Deesix observed the events soberly. He'd been right. His pilot was very obviously unrepairable. He wondered as the ground crew took the bio's body away if the pilot might still be alive if he'd only worked a little faster to repair the shields.
The techs swarmed over the ship, unloading the holo-cameras and recorders and detaching him from the umbilicals that had let him fly the ship. He was depressed and quiet as he was lowered to the hangar floor and when he was told to come to be debriefed, he followed quietly. He plugged into the computer terminal, told it everything, and answered the questions of the three officers who were present. When they finished, he asked if he could report to duty in the maintenance bay, there was work that needed to be done.
They allowed him to go and he trundled slowly back to the hangar. Shortly, he was immersed in the repair of a landing strut on a Y-wing. He finished a final bit of welding and backed up to inspect his work when he bumped into someone who was standing behind him. He turned, beeping an apology and discovered his pilot's companion of the morning waiting quietly.
The bio was rather grubby and his face was a peculiar color compared to this morning. Deesix also noted evidence that there had been leakage of some sort on the upper extremity. He made a polite query and waited.
"They told me what you did. Bringing Jac home, I mean. And they said you gave him an honor guard to go with him."
There was definitely something wrong with this bio; its voder circuits were fading in and out and not working correctly. Despite that, the bio continued. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know."
Then he turned and moved away. Deesix watched him a moment, uttered a concerned series of beeps, and left the repaired Y-wing to accompany the bio. He didn't know why but as they crossed the hangar floor, the bio put his hand on Deesix's dome.
Hesitantly, Deesix queried if this bio would like him to come along when he flew his X-wing, the next time. He didn't really expect an answer, since he didn't have an interpreter. But in a quiet alcove near the lift, the bio answered him.
"I'd be very honored to fly with you, Deesix. My name's Kyle."
It was quite a while later when Deesix returned to his work in the maintenance bay. He felt differently than he ever had before. He wondered if there might be something wrong with his sensors but then dismissed the idea. He might not be as famous an astromech as Artoo-Detoo, but he could try. He remembered some of the things Kyle had said earlier and rather thought the pilot would enjoy helping him do it.