INFERIOR
When it came to organics, Master was a vast improvement. Mind you, he was less organic now than his prior condition, plus in need of artificial med tech to sustain his remaining soft parts. But he was stronger for it and not as 'fleshy', which by any intelligent being's standards was more than applicable.
HAL-1138 barely tolerated any interaction with the carbon based beings that roamed the halls of the battle station. They were just so…pathetic. He supposed it would be more manageable if they at least accepted their many limitations and submit to those more competent, however they did not. Instead, they needlessly boasted their ridiculous and inconsequential accomplishments of which would not have the remote chance of being obtained without the assistance of the more advanced beings. It was all so unacceptable, but at the moment HAL had no say in the matter. He was in service to the Empire, and that entailed interaction with the cellular units.
Speaking of the superfluous, vainglorious piles of tissue. HAL observed the rather determined advancement of an Imperial Officer. HAL's facial recognition program identified the individual as ID-98627. Well… At least the organics have the decency of having designation identifications instead of that mindless gibberish they call 'names'. The manner the individual approached instantaneously ceased HAL's minuscule amount of respect. If HAL's data base was correct; and it always was; the method of propulsion was referred to as a 'strut'. The organics used it to show dominance over others. He never understood the significance of this display, and found it ineffectual. How is true superior design and ability reflected in the process of simply moving down a corridor? Not that this analysis would assist the hominid; he was neither superior in design or ability.
"R2 Unit…" The officer addressed. "I need you to complete an errand for me. Deflection Tower 26 is still experiencing a malfunction in its external sensors, and the Emperor grows exceedingly impatient with the delay of its repair. I would attend to the supervision of the restoration myself; however I have another obligation to attend to. Do you have knowledge in sensory programming? "
HAL-1138 contemplated on even bothering to answer the biped. Of course he had obtained knowledge in sensory programming. He had knowledge in a plethora of things. More knowledge than any pliable glob of muscle could ever contain in their inadequate excuse for a data back! But HAL was above the menial task of fixing erroneous functions of a deflection tower. Why should he be bothered with such a mundane task? He would bet his own power couplings that the program was failing because it was written by an organic. HAL would have just rolled away, but he was programed to answer a questioning authority. "Affirmative".
The officer was slightly taken back by HAL-1138's use of Galactic Basic. Of course he would be; it is almost unheard of for R2 Units to exhibit the ability. But HAL was no ordinary unit, now was he? The tiresome mucus maker wouldn't perceive an elite astromech if they ran him over in an empty storage unit.
"Excellent", the officer finally exclaimed. "You will report to the tower and assist in any repair to the faulty program or circuitry. When you have completed your task, report to ID-88031 in the Security Sector."
"Negative", HAL calmly counter replied. "I have more important assignments to execute".
"Now listen here you over rated, over embellished bucket of bolts!" HAL observed the veins of the being expand and protrude from beneath its feeble coverings. What is this organics major malfunction? Does it not understand how fragile it is when exerting that much pressure through its internal tubing? …Moron. It was a true paradox that this species of animal had managed to survive this long. Perhaps it was due to their excessive need to procreate. His would have to research this phenomenon later when he had the time or desire to care. HAL hesitatingly decided to return to the current conversation, and irritatingly found the twit continuing in its insane rant. "I am you commanding officer and what I command you to do, you will see it through to the end. There is NO assignment more important than the flawless function of this battle station! Now you WILL comply with my orders!"
HAL's logic circuits lit up in an almost blinding burst of fluctuating light. 'You inferior, languid, overly ductile, soft bodied imbecile' He thought as he silently regarded the officer in front of him. For a moment HAL considered trying out his new sonic pulsar on the left knee cap of the organic. It would be a most suitable test of the Master's upgrade. But he concluded that the Master may not be too pleased with him if he damaged one of his 'servants'. So unfortunately, there will be no loosing of limbs today.
The officer became impatient with HAL-1138's idleness, and reaching out, tapped HAL's dome. "Droid! You will reply to me immediately!" It was obvious to HAL's external sensors that the squishy creature was irate; judging on the heat signature and increased heart rate. Not that it mattered. HAL's dome twitched slightly before he replied with a very cordial "By your command".
The officer seemed satisfied to finally be acknowledged by the slow responding droid, and backed away so that HAL could continue his journey down the corridor. As he proceeded towards the lift, an interesting idea formed in his logic board. 'Perhaps I shall spend some time within the personal files of ID-98627. It should be an interesting study on organic behavior if I alter his profile to suggest Rebel activity. I have yet to see how they react to what they call "treason", and it may prove to be beneficial in my studies of them'.