Rev's systems began to idle. He'd lost track of the time as he diverted all processing power to planning for the immediate future. Ron's plan circulated through his logic circuits hundreds of times as he revised his next steps, doing his best to stay on course and adapt to the changing circumstances. They would need to begin the long and tedious process of establishing more hideouts throughout the galaxy where other battle droids would be likely to show up. Figuring out such positions was another job in itself. All the while, Rags and R-U5 would continue developing their own technology for evading the Imperials. Not only that but he would have to constantly worry about their resources, although it wasn't much of a nuisance now that they had more credits on hand. His CPU would be nearly maxed out in handling so many processes at once. But there were two factors in Ron's plan that worried him the most. One being his leadership and the other being time. As much as Ron had believed in him, his time as commander had showed him that he lacked the experience Ron had. In regards to their time, the Imperials were unpredictable and could cut their time short at any given moment if they so wished given their immense power and rule over the entire galaxy. It would only take one star destroyer to wipe them out.
The hissing of pistons brought Rev back into the present. Behind him, he heard a peculiar sound, like the white static of a radio. He whirled around to see Ron clutching his head, sinking deeper into his seat.
"Ron? Are you alright?" He said, jumping from his seat and making his way over to his old friend.
A warbled mess of static came out of his vocalizer.
"Ron!" Rev shook him, feeling just as helpless as he'd been when Ron was shot.
The white static turned to a familiar monotone voice, "Rev? What's going on?" Ron said, his arms falling back to the arms of his chair.
"Is it you? Are you back? Do you remember me? Are your systems alright?" Rev shook him more furiously as if the answers to his questions would fall out of his joints.
"Of course it's me," He shoved Rev back into his own chair, "Calm down, you're asking too many questions"
"It feels like it's been years since I've spoken with you," Rev replied, still all too eager to see his friend back. He pulled on the arms of his chair, knowing no other way to convey his excitement.
"Tell me quickly, what's going on? I remember we crash landed on some planet and we took to hiding in some caves before we were attacked. I don't remember anything after that"
Rev detailed everything that had happened since his supposed death. The escape from Dantooine using a light freighter and the activation of their B2 unit, their return to Akiva, and obtaining knowledge for the development of their own technology.
Ron stayed silent, letting the information properly register in his memory unit.
"You stuck to our promise and continued even without me, I am grateful," Ron said, his body twitching as he readjusted his systems after so much time without his memory, "I have made many mistakes," Ron looked to his feet, almost as if in shame, "And you have done well as a commander, just as I predicted"
Rev nodded vigorously, "I watched you lead and learned. You taught me well"
"I have made mistakes like I said, and as a consequence, so have you"
"What? But we're still alive. Isn't that good enough?"
"It is, but…" Ron looked directly into Rev's photo-receptors, "You left a trail for the Empire, leading right to us," he stood and surveyed the space around them from the view of the cockpit, "I learned the clones back on Kashyyyk would use the footsteps of my squad mates to follow us and attack from behind when the time was right. That worked for most other squads, but not mine. You should know, you were the first to see my strategy at play back then"
"That's right, it was the first time we fought together. I didn't know your name back then. You didn't talk much"
"We were still under the control of our former masters, I wasn't the same back then, but that's beside the point. The Imperials use the same strategies as the clones, they will follow us. You left a trail first on Dantooine with the first human you encountered. Then you left a second by leaving the salesman's body out in space. And now, the Imperials have a bounty out on us and you were seen by those criminal organics"
"But we're in the land of criminals, they wouldn't come out here"
"They won't or at least I don't think they will. The Hutts never liked any government entering their portion of the galaxy, even the Separatists were kept out. Most likely once we return to areas under Imperial control, they will strike"
"So let's stay out here"
Ron shook his head, turning back to Rev, "We need more resources if we want to build our own weapons and technology, most trustworthy marketplaces are not in Hutt territory. And if we wish to find a planet to call home, we won't find it in Hutt controlled space. Our return to their territory is inevitable"
Rev hung his head in shame as he realized the conundrum he'd stuck them into, "I'm sorry Ron, I tried my best"
"You did do your best and considering my own faults, I doubt I could've done much better," Ron sat in front of Rev, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Now we must plan and fight as we have always done. Our whole life we have been fighting. These organics will not win, by experience alone we have already won. Do not worry"
"And I'll trust you like I always have," Rev rose to his feet, "Let's not waste any time"
Ron nodded, "Of course"
They walked out, side by side, heading straight for OOM who was standing guard at the top of the stairs as usual.
"What's going on?" OOM asked, perturbed by their sudden approach.
"Ron's back to normal," Rev reported.
"Are you?" His head swiveled to Ron.
"Yes, it's time we get back on track," Ron said.
"Of course," OOM replied.
"I once told you that the only droid more intelligent than us is a tactical droid"
"Yes, I remember. Given everything that's happened, I believe you might be right about that," OOM replied.
"I am, but I believe we can match their intelligence if all three of us combine our processing power"
"Theoretically, perhaps. What is this about?"
"We need to plan out our fight against the Empire. They certainly know where we are now"
OOM nodded in understanding, "Give me all the details," he walked over to one of the couches embedded into the ship, ignoring the rest of the droid's conversations.
Officer Gorren eagerly marched his way into Commander Zeiron's office, his holotablet in hand.
"Sir, new reports from our trandoshan associates," Gorren handed over the tablet.
Zeiron's eyes flitted about as he scanned the contents of the document before him, "They're in Hutt territory, just as we suspected. Good work, you have a keen eye to hire such reliable mercenaries. Keep this up and you'll be promoted in no time," Zeiron said. He was in a joyful mood. Everything was going to plan, they were establishing positions along the western edge of Hutt territory and the Separatists were making their location so obvious to the point that some of his officers speculated that they were attempting to lure them in and cause a diplomatic catastrophe.
Zeiron had waved off their concerns, "There is no reason for us to head into that vile place, we already have recon outposts all along the perimeter and even inside of Hutt territory, and for good reason. Lord Vader is still hunting down the traitorous Jedi, he needs all the information he can get. These outposts just so happen to also aid us in our objective"
Gorren couldn't help but smile. Everything had been flipped upside down in recent times. They had gone from the most boring assignment an Imperial sailor could attain to one of the most exciting and fruitful. This moral boost would be a great boon for swaying their conscripts to swear loyalty to the Empire. Given they were only just formed out of the ashes of the Republic, they'd had a hard time recruiting at first and thus turned to conscription. But now that the Empire had found its footing and shown its strength, Gorren doubted they would need conscripts for much longer. Times were changing, the people were at first afraid of the undulating waves of change that rippled across the galaxy like a pebble thrown into a pond but now they were excited as the Empire worked to restore order and peace to the galaxy.
"What are our next orders commander?" Gorren questioned, eager to be at the behest of Zeirron.
"We will wait here, I understand everyone is excited but we must be patient. The enemy is quite good at revealing their position. The fools will make this easy for us. And if they stay inside that crime infested area, we will drive them out with another criminal syndicate. We are in a favorable position," Zeirron stood, and looked out the window behind him, relishing in the space under his command.
"I will relay the orders," Gorren saluted and marched off back into the busy hallways.
Word soon got around about Ron and R-23E's recovery. The rest of the crew were astounded to see not just one but two droids fully recover from their injuries. For some of them, it was the first time they'd ever seen or heard of such a thing. Most of their fallen brothers would've been dead and irrecoverable from the burst of blaster fire they'd sustained. The Separatists had been ruthless in their treatment of the droids, having them die and turned into scrap metal even if they were capable of being repaired. They were unfeeling machines as far as they knew. In reality, they became anything but as the war dragged on.
"Shouldn't we do something to celebrate his return?" C-05 asked the rest of the crew huddled around him at one of the tables in the lounge room of the freighter. C-5B and C-6C were absent, they'd been spending most of their time in the different quarters in the back of the freighter, rummaging through any storage units they could find. Rags and R-U5 were in another side of the ship going through the holotablet they'd been given. B-35 stood guard at the top of the stairs, his bulky frame, taking up most of the space in the middle of the lounge. Their commanders were on a couch adjacent to them, deliberating on their next steps.
"Like what?" C-37 said, "Rev told me something about organics using explosives as part of a celebration, is that what you mean?"
"No, but you're on the right track. I've been using the galactanet recently now that we have access to it. I've seen that organics have these strange celebrations, they usually involve something satisfying or relaxing," C-05 continued.
"The only thing I find satisfying is eliminating a target," R-7B interjected as he continued cleaning all of his recently attained blaster pistols.
"We do that almost every day, I'm thinking something different, something special"
"Fine, a good duel should do. No killing, just blasters set to stun or a blunted melee weapon like those metal sticks the beasts on Akiva used against us," R-7B said, nodding to C-37.
"Can you think of something that won't leave one of us damaged?" C-05 said.
"How about a gift?" R-56V said.
"A gift…" C-05 mulled over the thought, searching the definition of the word in his database, "What would we even give him? Everything here is ours"
"I'm not sure he's in need of anything either," R-7B said. He fidgeted with the blaster in his hands. The mere mention of a duel had pushed him to accidentally activate his combat protocols, making him restless. Suddenly, he realized something in looking at his collection of blasters, "I can give him the best blaster I've recovered from our enemies so far"
"That's a good idea," C-05 replied, his eyes wandering over to R-7B's spoils.
"Since I also recovered from my injuries, could I get one too?" R-23E asked.
"Of course, these should belong to the group, not me. All of us have to fight," R-7B replied. R-23E's hand wandered over to an S-5, a highly accurate and hard hitting blaster pistol that was aptly nicknamed The Handcanon by many across the galaxy.
R-7B gripped R-23E's wrist, "Let me choose one for Commander Ron first"
R-23E reluctantly pulled his hand away.
Now that all the droids had access to the galactanet, they could research whatever they pleased. Although, Rev had taken the time to restrict what they could search in relation to the Separatists. R-7B searched for the names of each blaster before him. He'd collected a total of four over time and there was only one that he believed to be worthy for Ron.
He slid the A-180 blaster pistol towards himself, it was the only pistol in his collection capable of being reconfigured into a rifle or even a sniper. R-7B had heard of Ron's long history in the Separatist army through OOM, and consequently, of the many positions he took up under his many lives. He was a versatile droid much like the blaster before him. The perfect choice.
"This one will do, you can go ahead now," R-7B nodded at R-23E.
He immediately grabbed the S-5, and holstered it onto his back alongside his E-5 blaster, "We're all going to need some sort of utility belt soon with how many weapons you're collecting"
R-7B ignored him and instead grabbed his chosen blaster and marched straight over to Ron across the room.
Ron looked up at him in confusion, his vocalizer made a strange static noise as he abruptly cut his sentence short.
"The squadron would like to gift you this blaster to congratulate you on your recovery sir," R-7B extended hand out with the pistol balanced on the palm of his hand, "It can be turned into a blaster rifle or sniper with the right parts"
Ron carefully took the weapon into his own hand, inspecting every side. He looked back to R-7B who awaited his response.
For the first time in his life, he was left speechless. His CPU burned hot with every possible reply he formulated in his head. None seemed to make sense in this context.
Ron forced his attention back to reality, "I...Thank you," was the best he could muster up.
R-7B saluted and returned to his table.
Ron set the pistol down onto the table before him, his mind beginning and terminating dozens of thoughts in the span of a second.
"Ron? You were just about to tell us the final part of our battle plan," Rev said, shaking him out of his stupor.
"Right," He glanced over to the table where R-7B had come from.
'What compelled all of them to do something like that?' Ron wondered. He forced his train of thought back onto his plan, losing himself back in his calculations and assessments of their future battle.
With R-56V at the helm, they set off back into the fray, making a short pit-stop at a small industrial planet, named Joripan. Although it was still too early to begin developing their own cloaking device, Rags and R-U5 had made enough progress to know what resources they would need in the future once their research was finished.
Ron and Rev gathered the crew in the lounge as usual, "In a few days we will be initiating a space battle against the Imperials. We do not know how many enemies stand in our way but they will no doubt attack us once we return to the Outer Rim. Re-calibrate your naval battle protocols, I'm sure it's been some time since most of you have activated them. You're all dismissed, do not go outside the ship. We don't know what's out there," Ron said. He made his way down into the cargo hold with Rev only to find their disguises had been completely ruined.
"You never told me about this," Ron said, holding their only remaining fur coat seeing as the other had been burned by blaster fire.
"Oh, right. We'll have to get new disguises. I think this is for the best anyways. When we were on Zygorath, I noticed many organics were using clothes very different from ours. We should replicate their look, that way we won't attract attention," Rev said.
"And how did they dress?"
Rev sent him a photo he'd taken of the organics using his photo-receptors, "They seem to like the colors black and gray. I think we should start there"
"Noted. Whatever the case, let's stay out of sight," Ron descended the hatch doors.
All around them piles of scrap metal littered what seemed like the entirety of the planet, masking their ship among the sea of metal. The sky was gray and cloudy and off in the distance various factories stood high in the air, plumes of smoke coming from the top of the great tubes that served as their exhaust ports.
"These planets are some of the dirtiest I've ever seen," Rev commented.
"Factory worlds tend to look this dirty. There's a market somewhere along the western edge of those houses over there but let's see if we can find any materials for a temporary disguise out here in this junk," Ron said.
They trudged along through the fields of scrap metal, coming upon two stray pieces of gray cloth that seemed to have come from the carpet of a ship. Ron and Rev wrapped the cloth around their metal chassis and waist. It extended far enough down to cover their legs, almost passing as a makeshift robe. Their heads would still be exposed, notably their long nose. Rev decided to take four metal knee guards they found lying around and have Rags wield some together, punch holes for their eyes, and strap pieces of rope to secure the makeshift masks against their heads. Rags made sure to distort the shape of the mask, making it appear as if their heads were spherical like most organics.
They left the ship a second time, this time heading directly for the market. A field had been cleared out of the polluting metal and rows upon rows of merchant stands were set up in columns with the farthest northern edges being filled out in one last row that blocked off the rest of the field. Most of the organics present were just as dirty as the rest of the planet. Oil and other black marks were smeared all across their bodies. Their eyes blank and without much life behind them. Almost as if they were machines themselves.
The organics were humans and quite short in comparison to the both of them. Their height brought much attention to them and their dark robes didn't help.
"Why are they still looking at us? I thought these outfits would be fine," Rev said through their private line.
"Ignore them, let's just get the parts we need and get out," Ron replied.
They stalked through the stands, eventually coming upon a merchant with high quality metal parts and circuitry. He stood out against the humans being the only rodian.
He spoke in a strange language that neither droid could decipher. Ron looked through the galactanet using the ship's connection and quickly downloaded the best rodian translator he could find.
"Are you two going to buy something or just stand there? You're scaring away the rest of my customers. Well, it isn't like they have the money for my wares anyways," The rodian said in a defeated tone.
Rev replied in the same language, "Unlike them, we do have credits. We are in need of several materials that you have"
"Finally, I might just be able to turn a profit this month," The rodian replied excitedly, beckoning them closer.
They left the stand with a cluster of parts and the growing attention of the humans around them. They made a beeline for a clothes merchant which were abundant in the entire area. With a few quick words in basic, Rev bought the only pair of matching outfits he could find. They nearly ran from the area as the humans gathered in crowds around them. Some even gave chase, forcing the two of them to run in circles through the maze of scrap piles until they finally lost them.
"What was that about?" Rev said once they returned to the ship.
"I'm not sure. There is still much we don't understand about organics," Ron said.
They dumped their new supplies off in the cargo bay and discarded their makeshift outfits, all the while the some of the droids stood guard at the top of the bay doors even after they shut. OOM shooed the rest of the crew back upstairs as he ordered B-35 to take up guard duty.
Ron looked over their outfits. The strange behavior of the humans hadn't allowed him to take a proper look at them. There were two black coats with a plethora of pockets on the inside along with two more on the outside. With the coats came a pair of gray shirts and black pants along with a belt. It was perfect for their use case.
"All we need is some sort of mask but we'll figure that out later," Ron said to Rev as they headed back up into the lounge.
"I can look into it," Rev replied.
Ron marched straight to R-56V who had returned to the cockpit in case they needed to make a quick getaway, "R-56V, have you ever flown a fighter before?" Ron said.
"No, we didn't have any at all in the Separatist navy," R-56V said.
"You'll be learning with the fighter we stole from that bounty hunter, we're going to need your skills in our upcoming battle"
"And who will pilot this ship?"
"I will. I would say to prepare your pilot modules but there are none for fighters so figure something out"
R-56V felt a jolt of electric joy, "Thank you sir, I've always wanted to pilot a fighter. I will do my best to achieve maximum battle efficiency"
"That is good to hear, now go and get ready, you have permission to use the generator for as long as you need to fulfill my orders", Ron turned to look out the cockpit, 'I've only seen Rev and Rags act like this before. First they...gift me a blaster and now R-56V is acting more like us. They're all changing,' Ron thought.
R-56V saluted and strutted back into the lounge.
"Have you noticed?" Ron said, sliding into the pilot's seat.
"Noticed what?" Rev said, taking the co-pilot's seat.
"They're all developing behaviors beyond their programming, much like us. I suspect none of them have ever lived this long before," Ron shifted in his seat, getting accustomed to the controls before him.
"They're going through the same changes we did and they'll have much more time to themselves. It's perfect"
"That could be dangerous, we don't know how they'll turn out"
"So far they're sticking together. We all know none of us would last long without each other. The only thing I'd be worried about is having one of our more violent brothers cause issues for us all"
Ron pulled the wheel back as he guided the freighter back into open space, "I see, you have a better grasp on them than I do. Which reminds me..." he stayed quiet for a moment in reflection, "I remember on Akiva," he looked over to Rev, "I told you that you'll need to be the one to oversee them, make sure they don't do anything drastic and cause problems like you said"
Rev hesitated to say anything.
"You have proven that you are capable of leadership just like I suspected but now that I have returned, you can leave the leading and planning to me while you take care of our brothers," Ron said.
"If that's the case, I'll need to talk to all of them," Rev replied.
"You'll have time soon, we're making a stop at Nomaria, a small forest planet in the middle of nowhere. R-56V must practice his piloting skills in a ship no battle droid has ever flown before. Do what you need to do once we land"
Rev looked back into the lounge, the voices of the rest of the crew emanating from outside. He remembered his conversation with R-7B before, noting how bloodthirsty he was.
'That would be a good place to start, keep him from getting into trouble,' Rev thought.
Ron made the jump to hyperspace, "When I was shot, did you remember our promise?"
"Not at first, only that you wanted me to lead. Then the night came and I remembered what you said on that orange planet, what was it called?"
"Hypori," Ron reminded him.
"Right, and you said you wanted me to keep going without you if your death came," Rev continued.
"So you do remember"
"I do, but…"
"But what?" Ron turned to him.
"When you died, I thought you were gone forever. It felt like part of my programming shut down, and I know now that I wasn't operating at full efficiency because of that. I think that's why I made so many mistakes, aside from what you said before," he hesitated to continue, "Maybe neither of us could continue to operate without each other now that we've spent so much time together. I know you're programming as much as you know mine. Nobody, not even Rags or R-U5 knows us that well," he paused again, this time looking directly at Ron, "So I'll promise you again, if you die, I'll continue without you but at this point, I'm not sure I'd get very far"
Ron looked down at the wheel under his hands, it had begun to creak from him unconsciously tightening his grip, "I understand," he glanced back at the door behind them, making sure none of the other droids were listening, "So let's change the promise. No matter the circumstances, we will continue forward and create a droid sanctuary even if it means sacrificing both of our lives"
"I'll agree to that"
"And I know I can trust your word"
They spent the rest of the trip going over the plan they'd created with OOM. Their calculations, and positions would have to be nearly perfect for their plan to successfully execute. There was small margin for error but enough to struggle through.
The ship lurched as it came out of hyperspace.
Ron gathered the entire crew in the lounge as usual. With Rev and OOM standing by his sides he looked to R-56V, "Are you ready to take flight?" he asked.
"Of course sir"
"We're orbiting a small forest planet, we'll be heading into the atmosphere in a moment. Once we've made entry, you will head down into the cargo bay and use the hatch to enter the fighter and begin test flying"
"Roger that sir"
He looked to the rest of the crew, "The rest of you will continue preparing your naval combat modules. One more thing, none of you need to address me as sir during times like these, outside of battle. I am your commander, yes, but I wish for you all to look at me as your brother rather than as your superior. Ranks exist only in a military and we are no longer part of one. I am your leader and brother from now on. You may all call me by name when we are not engaged in combat. When the time comes to fight, address all commanders as sir to ensure we don't waste time while communicating. The same goes for co-commander Rev and security commander OOM-342"
Some of the crew nodded in agreement with the changes, others stood motionless, their stoic faces incapable of showing their reaction.
"Now go on and prepare for battle, we will be heading back into Imperial territory tomorrow," Ron said.
The group dispersed, this time with less conversations and more internal processing.
Ron ambled back into the pilot's seat and made the descent into Nomaria, the ship shook slightly as they entered past the atmosphere, the red glow on the cockpit temporarily lessened their view. A sea of green trees flowed in the wind below them.
"You are clear to detach R-56V," Ron said through their radio.
With a small thud, the fighter detached from freighter. He watched as R-56V increased speed and flew in front of the cockpit, "You have thirty minutes for a test flight, we only have so much fuel," Ron said.
"Roger that si-uh, Ron," R-56V said, the change of formalities felt strange for his processor and vocalizer, "It won't take me long"
The small fighter sped off into the blue sky before them, R-56V kept it in sight of the freighter by keeping track of his distance from the ship.
Rev returned to the lounge and made his way to R-7B who was now staring at his collection of blasters, going over his past experiences of being caught in the midst of a naval battle.
"R-7B," Rev said, waving a hand in front of his face. He shook out of his stupor, "I need to talk to you, switch to radio"
R-7B did so, "What's this about?"
"Do you remember what we were talking about on Zygorath?"
"Yes, I was thinking about it earlier. Killing to me is satisfying, there's nothing you can do to change that. And I have thought about what you said, if there's something else that might satisfy me further. I will see if there is, but I doubt it"
"I just want you to see things differently, nothing more. You're violent, and that could cause issues for all of us, just keep that in mind"
"Violence is needed in war and we are still at war as far as I can tell"
"I'm not saying to stop being violent, I mean you need to control it. I could tell back on Zygorath that you were having a hard time keeping your urge to fight under control. And I can see it in you again"
R-7B packed up his blasters and set them aside on his seat, "We will be going into battle again soon, I can control it until then. My programming has always controlled it in the past. It's going to take some time for me to get used to it"
"I understand, do your best to keep it in line. We need droids like you, don't doubt that"
R-7B nodded and returned to processing his memories once more.
Rev turned to the rest of the crew. His photo-receptors landed on B-35 and for a moment he regretted even looking at him as the hulking chunk of metal turned his way, noticing how his eyes were on him.
"New orders?" B-35 said, his voice booming and vibrating through the very metal of the ship.
"No," Rev hesitated to continue, "You haven't spoken much, are your systems alright?"
"Running diagnostics," B-35 said, his white eye began blinking, "Systems are optimal"
"Not very talkative?"
"Talking reduces the time for a reaction to an attack. I advise no further comments"
Rev didn't understand much about B2s, but at the very least he could understand their need for perfection in the face of combat.
He walked to C-37 who was stood next to C-05, "C-37, have you been crafting any explosives recently?"
"N-no, why would you think that sir?" C-37 said.
"You're chassis is covered in a strange powder"
"Ok, ok, I have been trying but without touching our resources, I promise. You see, I asked C-5B and C-6C for help and they've been gathering any non-essential material in the ship for my improvised explosive device"
"I've been trying to talk him out of it, I told him we'll be able to get our hands on more explosives soon but he won't listen," C-05 said.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Rev said.
"No, no, not all si—uh Rev, commander, co-commander," C-37 swiveled his head to C-05, "Is that right?"
"Yes, next time ask through our radio," C-05 said.
"C-37, I might have to take away your thermal detonators if this happens again," Rev said.
"No! Please sir—Rev. I was just-"
"Look, next time, just ask and we'll see what we can find for your little projects"
"Really?"
"Of course, we don't have anyone who's as passionate about explosives like you. Being able to create thermal detonators on your own is a very useful skill"
"I completely agree, so can I finish my 'project' as you called it?"
"Yes, but not with resources from our ship, not even the material from here. I'll talk to Ron about it, I'm sure he'll agree to supporting your ideas. Give us a list of what you need and we'll find it"
"Sending the list immediately"
"Thank you for trying to keep him in check, C-05. Keep up the good work"
C-05 nodded.
In the rear of the ship stood the quarters where C-5B and C-6C had been spending most of their time. He walked into their room to find piles of cotton and cloth on top of what had once been a bed, "What are you two doing?"
C-5B and C-6C immediately stood straight to stand at attention, "We're collecting resources for C-37," C-5B said.
"I've already worked something out with him, no need to continue collecting"
"Are we going to be punished for this?" C-6C asked apprehensively.
"No, of course not. I don't see any reason to do that," Rev said.
"What are we going to do with all this stuff?" C-5B said.
"Leave it there, we might need it later. I'm only here to ask something"
"We will answer any questions you have for us, Rev," C-6C said, cautiously saying his name.
"You two work well together correct?"
"Yes, we work better together than with other droids," C-5B said.
"If one of you were to die, would you still be able to function?"
"Of course, but we wouldn't be the same. I have never died fighting alongside C-5B, but I know from droids who were similar to us that something in our systems would change," C-6C said.
Rev processed this information, "You two are very similar to me and Ron. Just as you said, I lost combat efficiency when he went offline. Make sure to be careful in combat from now. Even with our recovery mode, you can still become permanently damaged. Watch each other well," he turned back to the door, "Focus on preparing for naval combat, I wouldn't want to see either of you die because of a lack of preparation"
"Right away, Rev," C-6C said after a short pause.
Rev sauntered back into the cockpit and sat back down in the co-pilot seat alongside Ron, "There's some issues with our crew but we can deal with them. I'll send you the details through our communications array"
Ron silently processed Rev's report in his photo-receptors, "Interesting findings. C-37 is a valuable member, I wouldn't want to displease him. We can be on the lookout for those materials when we stock up on supplies. R-7B is violent but useful in combat, I will be sure to pay attention to his behavior in the future. C-5B and C-6C are like us?"
"Yes, they can't be separated," Rev said.
"I will keep that in mind. I was just about to assign each squad member their roles in the ship for our battle. Perfect timing," Ron reviewed the timer he'd set in his system. Fifteen minutes were left for R-56V's test flight, "And R-56V, I am aware of his affinity for ships and space travel. I'm sure he will take a liking to that fighter"
"He will"
"And are you ready for the fight?"
"Of course, I've reviewed the plan dozens of times now. I already have everything saved in my memory unit"
Ron let the ship glide at a comfortable speed, "Just remember, things can go wrong and more often than not they do. Organics have lived for so long with their squishy flesh for being adaptable. We have to be the same if we want to survive as well"
"Our more organic qualities can help with that"
"Of course. Statistical odds are not in our favor but when have they ever?"
"We'll operate with maximum combat efficiency, I'm sure of it"
Another fifteen minutes later, R-56V returned right on time.
"Will you be ready?" Ron asked as he took a seat in the cockpit behind him.
"Affirmative, I learned as much as I could"
"Good, go ahead and recharge with the others"
Ron set off back into the stars, "Soon we will see just how much of a threat the Empire truly is"
