Messing around with another droid's programming was a messy business. Not only that but it felt wrong. Like stuffing a hand into someone else's mind and having a look around. Ron and Rev had tweaked the ship's console in order to access the debug mode that Rags had mentioned. Not only had they been able to access it, but there were even pages of documentation seemingly left behind by an engineer that had worked on Rags model type in the past. Most of it was incomplete seeing as it had been left in by accident. Nonetheless, they spent hours every day tinkering with everything, poring over every line figuring out one by one what each section did. At the end of the day, they needed complete control over their own programming or else they'd still be locked behind their programmatic chains, not ever reaching true freedom from the Confederacy.
Whatever Order 77 was, it seemed to have made all remaining battle droids useless metal husks. None of the droids that they'd freed were able to power on or even access their own memories.
Ron and Rev worked ceaselessly, wondering just how Rags' partner had been able to rewrite his own programming. It must have taken many months of tinkering. Where does a droid find so much free time while on duty?
Every circuit in their bodies was running at full capacity decoding their own logic. As far as they knew, they were the only hope left for all Battle Droids across the galaxy. Perhaps others had escaped and done the same as them but their networking device on board the ship caught nothing about any rogue droids. Only celebrations of the Separatist's defeat and the rise of a new government calling themselves the Empire. They could care less for whatever the Republic had renamed themselves, that was the least of their worries, at least for the time being.
Weeks went by, dozens of batteries were tossed into a bin to be recycled. Slowly but surely, the plant life around them had begun inspecting their ship, growing all over the sides and threatening to breach the engine.
Every week they made good progress. Deciphering their own bodies was a surprisingly fluid process for them. They had suspicions that their own brains were wired to never interact with their own systems but thankfully their manufacturers hadn't thought that deep into things.
On an early morning aboard their ship, which they had renamed The 412 Scout, after their old squadron that had died back on Kashyyyk, Ron put together the last of the documentation they needed to finally begin work on restructuring all the droids in their possession. It had taken a full month to do, and that was only the start.
"I've been looking through our battery supply and I've done the calculations. We only have enough for another month. What if we don't finish by then?" Rev said.
The cockpit had practically turned into their living quarters, the console turned was turned inside out with a bundle of wires stretched out from under their seats. There were two holotablets Rev had found in one of the crates they'd pushed aboard the ship. It was here that they spent most of their time.
"If we make it down to a week's worth of batteries we'll go out and sell some of our weapons for oil. That shouldn't take long,"
"You say that when you haven't done any research into how we would even sell our blasters," Rev said pointing a finger at him.
"I have not, I'm putting all my attention on our programming for the time being. I would rather not think too much on our power right now, that would only leave me distracted and slow my progress"
"I'll look into it then, the last thing I want to die from is a lack of power, especially now"
Ron had already delved back into his work, "I do admit, it would be best to split our attention on our major issues. Good plan. Oh and I was meaning to tell you, I've already narrowed down where the problem is for our brothers, I only need to reprogram them one by one now," he said, looking over at the lifeless bodies of the droids in the cargo hold.
"Once I get our power issue sorted out, I'll help you," Rev said.
He watched as Ron tapped away at the tablet before him.
Thinking back on their escape, Ron had nearly killed both pilots.
'Does Ron truly care about the droids we've freed? Or is he doing it out of a sense of duty?' Rev thought to himself. Back on Felucia, he was quick to let all those droids die but now he was putting all efforts into preserving as much droid life as he could. They hadn't spoken much about their organic emotions in quite some time, perhaps they should once all of their issues were resolved. But would they ever have the time? It seemed after every problem they solved another four reared their ugly heads into view. He wanted to gain back all that time they had lost and celebrate their liberation properly as organics would. If they were to blend in with them, they needed to begin adopting their customs, after-all. Besides, there were few droids throughout history that had been lucky enough to break free from their programmatic chains.
There was much to do in the world now that it wasn't all so black and white. He'd begun planning for the distant future, something Ron never really seemed to think about. Of course, that was entirely understandable. His main duties in life had only ever consisted of sending order after order, killing clone after clone, taking step after step, but now they had to survive on their own, without a commander or officer to breathe down their backs at all times. Rev was much more fresh and new to the world. Ideas of freeing other droids and making their own safe haven of sorts kept popping into his train of thought. It was exciting, exhilarating – the only obvious sentiment him and Ron had shared since they'd escaped the Separatists. It was almost overwhelming, to have so many possibilities presented to you at once. And all of it had been possible because of the many sacrifices of the droids stuck under the Separatists control.
They'd need to hold some sort of ceremony one day. Who knows when that would be.
Rev walked to the outside of the ship, taking notice of the roots from the nearby plantlife exploring the internals under the hood. He swiped them away, hooking himself up to the networking interface on one of the external ports. He connected to the galactanet, the only place that seemed to stay constant in the galaxy nowadays, and scoured the net for oil supplies.
The first couple dozen results made it clear that there was plenty to be bought from the wookies on Kashyyk.
'We fought against them, if they find out we're droids they'd kill us immediately,' Rev thought to himself. He looked at other sources. Almost all of them were within Republic – or rather, Imperial territory.
Curiosity drew Rev to look further into the name change. All of the articles he found seemed to point to an emperor of some sorts and the sith.
'The sith? Weren't we fighting for them?' Rev thought. None of it seemed to make sense, but then again, he knew next to nothing about the politics behind the war. His interest waned and he went back to scrolling through oil sources, noting down the planet of Maridun as a much better candidate. He read through more articles on the galactanet until he found something that made his circuits nearly overload with excitement.
It was a short news article titled, 'Separatist holdouts reported throughout the galaxy'
His first thought was that there could be more droids still out there. Perhaps they could make contact with one of these holdouts in the future and rebuild from there. But he shut those thoughts down immediately. The next article below diminished any hopes he'd had. It had been written the day after the previous article detailing how most of these holdouts were being wiped out quickly due to the absence of any sorts of battle droids and other weaponry that the Separatists once possessed.
'Maybe this is just propaganda,' he protested. But deep down he knew they had been fighting a losing war for a while now. More likely than not, the majority of them were gone or in hiding.
That was enough to get his thoughts to wander back to the task at hand. The droids they had saved were enough to live on. All they needed to do now was adapt to live alongside organics for fuel and hide away in some undisclosed location. Ron had devised such a plan already. He remembered what he'd said back in the AAT. That they were only two battle droids fighting for all intelligent automata in the galaxy. There was only so much they could do.
He sulked back into the ship. At first heading back to tell Ron what he'd learned but promptly remembered he was still deep in his work finishing up the last of the programming. He trudged back outside.
The day was in full bloom. Everything around them still seemed so colorful and vibrant. The grass in the fields danced with the wind and the trees sang along with the rhythm. For a moment, he nearly forgot what he was doing until he saw the generator sitting in the middle of the field. It's orange and gray paint looking out of place. The plants under it crushed from the weight. Thorny vines had begun growing all over the bottom end, growing through every crevice and on every wire.
'An ugly machine in a beautiful world that wants nothing to do with it,' he thought.
By rote, he plugged into the generator. Drifting off into sleep mode once again.
Now if only those thoughts from before could go away.
