In the port city of Kaleem on the planet of Boleria, a thriving fishing community had recently boomed in population thanks to the now reopened trade routes running through their sector of the Outer Rim. There were an abundance of walkways and spaces for both foreigners and natives to dock their boats along the coastline of the island. The inner city was a colorful display of marble and dyed cloth, constructed a millennia before by a long dead king that the natives still talk about to this day. There were long cylindrical buildings that stood as watchtowers dotted all throughout the city. The houses of the city themselves were quite open and all featured a variety of fishing paraphernalia proudly displayed on the porches of every home.
"One oil canister and a replacement battery, as agreed," Rev said, kneeling down to be on the same level as the astromech before him, "Now tell me what you saw"
The small astromech erupted into an impassioned medley of beeps and boops. Rev nearly had a hard time deciphering his binary language, "A whole freighter full of battle droids? Were they destroyed or did they look repairable?"
His CPU had an easier time understanding him this time around, "Repairable, OK, we can work with that," He reached out a gloved hand, the sleeves of his black coat had been tucked inside the cuff to prevent anyone from seeing his metal arm, and patted the astromech on the head, "You've done us good service so far. Once we get everything in order, we can give you an even better job on another planet"
The astromech backed off and shook his head. His red striped head gleamed in the sunlight that shone down on them.
"No? You like it here?"
The astromech squeaked a hearty yes.
"I will respect your decision. But if you ever need help, come find us," Rev said, sending the droid a set of coordinates through radio signal.
He stood and sauntered back to a small rest station constructed in front of one of the many ports in Kaleem. It had a roof that extended outwards to provide the population with shade from the nearby sun that was ever present in this particular port. He sat next to Ron, who wore the same outfit as him. They'd upgraded from their crudely constructed metal masks to new custom-made durasteel visors that accommodated their long heads. It had been difficult trying to explain to the blacksmith what sort of shape they'd wanted. Not many organics had long heads like them. They'd also had another vocalizer installed in the visor itself that smoothed out Rev's voice to sound almost perfectly organic and Ron's robotic voice was masked with another to sound more natural while still managing to sound like him.
"He says there was a freighter that passed through here full of battle droids. It passed a week ago from today," Rev reported.
"A whole freighter? That won't be easy to track. Thousands of freighters come through here every day. I will see if Rags and R-U5 can find anything on the local grid network," Ron replied, his voice fluctuating in pitch with ease. It had taken him some time to get used to the change.
He stood and Rev along with him. They walked side by side through the bustling crowds back into the inner city where the marble houses never seemed to end. They trudged along for what seemed like miles back into the heart of Kaleem, returning to a long forgotten cave on the eastern coast of the island on which they stood on. A small stone house had been embedded into the wall of the cliff but was swallowed up whole by the rocky underbelly of the island and was now only accessible through a labyrinth of caves that Ron and Rev had explored themselves.
They entered their hideout, the interior was naturally cooled by the cave walls and offered a much needed respite from the glaring sunlight outside. The entire building was lit up by pillars of artificial light set up by C-5B and C-6C. In the center of the house was the main area where all of the droids were holed up with two rooms at the back and what was once a side yard on the right that now only contained small patches of grass.
"Rags and R-U5, search the local network for any mentions of a freighter ship that passed through this area with droid cargo," Ron ordered.
They both got to work at their makeshift stations on one side of the room, tapping away at their holotablets.
The majority of the crew was present save for OOM, B-35, and his usual security crew, R-7B and R-23E. They were back at the ship, guarding it from potential intruders.
Ron and Rev took off their visors, letting the cool breeze from outside hit their chassis.
"When are we getting visors?" C-5B asked.
"When we have the spare credits. Right now, we are saving the rest of our funds for resources and equipment. Besides, you already have those outfits and masks we bought for all of you, that should be enough for the time being. We are also running low on credits, I'd rather not spend it on anything unnecessary," Ron replied, back to his cold robotic voice, "OOM, has anything changed over there?" Ron asked over their radio. The signal was spotty thanks to the layers of rock that surrounded them.
"Nothing of importance has changed. There have been a few organics that have taken an interest in the ship but they only spared a look and nothing more," OOM replied.
"How strange. There are dozens of light freighters like ours at the landing pads, I wonder why they take an interest in ours. Notify me if you see any imperials," Ron said.
"Of course," OOM said before cutting the line.
"Ron, we found a report about that ship with the droid cargo. It was headed for Amira, east of here," Rags reported.
"Good work," Ron latched the visor back onto his head, "Get in your uniforms, everyone will go"
The freighter drifted over the endless expanses of the blue ocean below them. The wind whipped and lashed at the hull, still marked with the scars from their battle with the Imperials in Hikari which had been more than nine months ago now.
"Our first reports of other droids only a year after the end of the war and it's a whole ship full of them," Rev commented, "Will we even be able to support that many of our brothers?"
"Not with our current lack of credits, at the very least we will salvage their bodies," Ron replied.
The island city of Amira came into view. It featured a vastly different style of architecture for its buildings. Their design was reminiscent of a more modern style like the buildings found in Courascant and most other metropolis like it. There were sleek skyscrapers and curved durasteel houses. The only similarity between Amira and Kaleem were the vibrant colors. This city used the local government's colors of red and beige. Most of the buildings were smothered in them.
"This is the second biggest island on the planet. It might take some time to track down that ship," Rags commented over the radio.
"How long will it take?" Ron asked.
"I estimate thirty minutes or five if we can gain direct access to the local network," Rags said.
"A direct connection? I believe we can make that happen"
"It'll be risky but everything we do is a risk," Rev said.
"Our very existence is a risk. Nobody wants us alive. Now get focused, see if you can find a map of the city," Ron replied.
The freighter touched down on one of the many landing pads the city hosted. It was a busy place, with the majority of the biggest businesses being located on it. As such, the security in the area was also one of the strictest on the entire planet, save for the military located in the capital.
Before they could even lower their front bay door, a squad of security personnel appeared in a watch room above their ship. They inspected them through the window.
"Do not open your bay doors just yet. State your reason for visiting," The leading officer demanded over the freighter's communications array.
"We are here on a business trip," Ron replied, his visor masking his robotic voice.
"What company do you represent?"
Ron looked around the ship for any name he could conjure up. He went with the ship's manufacturer, "The Corellian Engineering Corporation"
"Ah, you're on the list. Welcome to Amari, we hope your stay is pleasant," The officer replied before cutting the line.
Ron entered the lounge, the rest of the crew were already prepared to leave. They'd done this more than a hundred times by now.
"Rags and R-U5, you'll come along. The rest of you will stay here. I don't want to attract much attention," Ron said.
"A sound decision, we won't need much security for a planet like this. It almost reminds me of Raxis," OOM commented.
"I dislike your attachment to the Confederacy," Ron replied.
"I was only making a comparison between this planet and Raxus, nothing more," OOM said.
Ron was glad he hadn't made a visor for OOM. Their arguments would last for much longer if he did.
Their small party of four descended into the landing area and out into the streets. The entire walkway was filled with organics in business attire strutting past in waves, with one side going left and the other to the right.
"This should be easy," R-U5 commented.
Rev shared the map he'd found with the rest of them, including one he'd made himself using his electronics sensor, denoting several areas that appeared to be hot-spots for network activity.
Rags marked one of the locations on the map and routed a path, "This one will most likely give us the best connection"
"Let's go," Ron said, leading the way into the sea of moving organics.
All along the route, Ron couldn't help but notice the dozens of banners hoisted up on steel bars overlooking the entire city. On them were advertisements of the different companies headquartered in the city. But one caught his eye. It was the Confederate insignia, still propped up on one of the smaller buildings in the plaza they were heading towards.
"Looks like our former masters are here," Ron said.
"That could be where that freighter was headed," Rev replied, his head swiveling around as he ensured nobody was watching them.
"We're here, slow down," Rags said.
They came upon a small metallic pillar with several banners hung on the sides and branch-like antennas sticking out from the top. The majority of the plaza was infested with organics rushing towards their destination, several security booths overlooked the area. A thin metal pole with several flashing red lights hung over head for incoming ships. Ron and Rev covered Rags and R-U5 as they hooked into the network node. They made gestures and moved their heads to make it appear as if they were speaking.
Nobody batted an eye at them. Only a few of the security personnel glanced their way.
"You were right Rev, it's a shipment for the Confederacy. The delivery will be happening soon at their headquarters nearby. The freighter already left but the cargo's still here," Rags reported.
"How much time do we have?" Ron asked.
"Eight minutes," R-U5 said.
"Hurry up and disconnect from the node," Ron said, his CPU spiked in usage as he routed the quickest path to the Confederate headquarters, "We can make it in four minutes if we go this way, follow me"
They pushed their way through the sea of colorful aliens, some bigger than others. There were a small group of slithering reptilian organics slowing down most of the foot traffic in the middle of the plaza.
Ron kicked his way past them and pushed an organic to his side.
Soon, the reptile was arguing with the human, mistaking him for the one who kicked his tail, shouting his strange language and attracting the attention of the security looming overhead. They secured the perimeter and arrested the both of them within a minute. They'd caused enough of a ruckus to make it to the Confederate building within three minutes.
As they neared, all of them picked up a familiar set of signals.
"More battle droids, and they're functional," Rev said.
Ron picked up the pace, nearly breaking out into a jog. He wouldn't attract too much attention considering everyone around them were in as much of a hurry.
They rounded a corner and spotted the cargo full of droids heading into the Confederate building. The gate was just beginning to close behind the giant crates full of battle droids. Ron rushed in with the rest of the group close behind him.
The gate shut behind them with a loud clang, leaving them in the shadows of a dimly lit garage. There were was just enough space for the three giant crates to be positioned in the middle of the garage. The rest of the storage units in the area had been pushed to the perimeter to accommodate the incoming cargo.
A group of B1's escorted a single organic Confederate Officer, a familiar sight. For a moment, it felt as if the war had never ended. Ron shifted, his CPU spiked in usage and heat at the thought.
"They're still under the control of the Confederacy, is there any way you two can free them?" Ron asked, turning to Rags and R-U5.
"If we can get them out of here, yes. Thanks to your code, they can be freed, but we would need direct access to their systems," R-U5 explained.
Ron put his CPU to good use and conjured up a variety of scenarios where they might just be able to kidnap these droids.
"It was easy convincing you all to join us on the transport ship back on Felucia. I could feign as an officer and order them to follow us just as I did back then," Ron replied.
"All we need is for them to get away from those organics," Rev said.
"We have access to their communications line. It's the same old Confederate signal we've always used. Broadcasting the audio now," Rags said, his body stiff as he concentrated on maintaining a good signal using the short antenna on his back.
"Use these rolling crates to pile up these parts. Report to me when you are all finished," The Confederate officer said. He left back to the upper floors using the elevator behind him.
"Why do we always get the boring jobs?" One of the B1's said.
"Quiet and start working. My joints are already stiff from guard duty," The leading B1 said.
"Perfect," Ron said. He was tempted to march straight at them and order them back to their freighter but it wouldn't be so easy. For one, they still had their disguises on and they would be considered intruders on the spot, "I doubt they will come with us willingly, now that I think about it. They are still under their programming. The security outside would notice them immediately anyhow. Rev, scan the area for any alternate exits"
Rev reviewed the map of the area and did a quick scan of the perimeter, "There's a sewer entrance in the corner of the room"
"We'll take our chances down there. Let's see if they are willing to come with us, if not we will free them by force," Ron said. He established a line to the four droids, "State your unit numbers," he ordered.
"Who is this?" The squad leader replied.
"I am unit R-0N, the commander has requested you four come with us to the landing pads discreetly," Ron said.
The B1 scanned the area and spotted Ron and his squad in front of him, "R-0N? You're not registered with this outpost. I will have to report this to Officer Dorak"
Ron switched back to their radio, "Set your blasters to stun and eliminate all four of them"
He led the assault and took out the squad leader with a quick draw of the blaster pistol gifted to him by R-7B. The rest of the droids in front of them pulled the blasters from their backs but by the time they'd readied their weapons, they were already stunned.
"We don't have enough room in the freighter for the rest of our brothers," Ron said, walking over to inspect the crates full of spare B1 parts, "I don't think we could recover them from such a state anyways"
Rags came to his side in front of the large container, "It would be difficult but not impossible"
"We don't have the space. We'll come back for them another day," Ron said, turning his attention back to the squad of deactivated droids before him, "Everyone must carry one of them. We will escape through the sewers," Ron ordered.
They carried the droids as best they could over their shoulders and scrambled for the sewer exit. Ron lifted and kicked away the top cover of the entrance and gestured for the rest of the squad to head in. He checked the area one last time before climbing down himself, closing the entrance behind him.
"I've routed a path back to the ship, we'll have to make a run for it across the street in front of the landing pad. I'll mark it on the map," R-U5 said.
The sewers extended endlessly in either direction with the walls and ceiling rounded for the water stream to flow smoothly. The tunnels were high and wide enough to accommodate more than enough space for each of the droids. They waded through the stream, splashing through the knee-high murky water. Their clothes became heavy, slowing them down substantially. The rest of the journey they spent in silence up until they came upon the ladder back up to the street across from their landing pad.
"My sensors indicate our olfactory senses would be overwhelmed with the smell of organic waste," Ron commented, "We will attract much attention once we make it to the surface, be ready to run at full speed. Don't hesitate to run through any organic you see"
The rest of the group silently internalized the order, preparing their joints for the sudden change in pace.
"I will go last to ensure nobody is left behind. Rev you go on ahead first," Ron said.
It was difficult clambering out of the sewers with an entire droid on their shoulders but somehow they did it. They were directly in front of the door to their landing pad just as Rags had said. The back of a shop was behind them and only a few meters ahead was the sea of marching organics. A few closest to them, crumpled their face as the smell from the sewer hit their noses. They whipped their heads around in search for the source of the putrid smell and soon took notice of Ron and his squad. Some of them began pointing and shouting at them. The security was quick to take notice from overhead. Rev sprinted forward, hoping that the rest of the crew was close behind, and pushed over the crowd of organics. They tumbled to the floor in waves. He smashed his foot down into the bodies below and jumped forward into the door leading to their ship.
The security were close behind them, attempting to stun them with their blasters but they soon stopped once they saw the droids on their backs.
"They're stealing those droids! Close the hatches to landing pad D-5!" One of them shouted from his position in the streets.
R-7B appeared at the top of the entrance to their ship, ready to fire back at the organics.
"R-56V, get us out of here," Ron commanded after his squad scrambled on-board.
R-56V spared no time and rushed to the cockpit, hurriedly activating the engines and lifting off the second the cargo bay doors closed. The hatch above had begun to close, encircling the ship from all sides. The hull of the freighter just about scraped by, causing sparks to fly. He set the ship to full throttle and escaped out into space, making the jump to hyperspace after blaster-fire from the security personnel in pursuit began pounding the shields.
Ron and the rest of the squad set the droids down carefully in the cargo bay, lining them up on a row.
"You should've warned us of the incoming danger," OOM said.
"I tried but the sewers somehow blocked our signal," Ron lied. Truthfully, the excitement he'd felt upon seeing functional B1 battle droids had messed with his logic circuits.
"We're going to need an oil bath after this," Rags commented, his legs still stained with the murky water from the sewers.
"And our clothes will need to be cleaned," Rev noted.
"R-56V, where are we headed?" Ron said upon seeing him scamper down the stairs.
"Akiva. It was the first destination that came up on the list of our hideouts," R-56V replied.
"That works out for us. We'll need the tools there to reprogram our brothers," Ron gestured at the disabled B1's on the ground. Rags moved to make a connection with one of them but Ron pulled him back, "Wait until we've cleaned up before you start working on them"
Rags nodded and stepped back with R-U5.
"Where did you find them?" OOM asked.
Ron was almost reluctant to answer, "The Confederacy still has an outpost on Boleria. The freighter full of droids was headed there. We couldn't bring them all but we will return for the rest another day"
"The Empire will come for them soon," OOM said. Truthfully, the Confederacy had never left his mind. Some parts of his programming still longed for the command and structure of their old masters. It was only a matter of time before he severed the final remnants of his old programming.
"Most likely they will, but let's hope we can make it back there one day before they destroy them. More of our brothers are still trapped under their control," Ron braced himself against the cargo bay's walls as the freighter rocked from leaving hyperspace.
"I will save the location for future reference"
They touched down in their usual spot on Akiva, the overgrowth that had once camouflaged their ship was now nonexistent from the hundreds of landings they'd made in the same spot. OOM had cited this change as a security danger but there were no other clearings in the area that could accommodate the freighter.
Myrra, the capital city of Akiva, had fully rebuilt all of it's destroyed buildings. The factories were back in full swing, the large plumes of smoke had returned to pollute the surrounding forest. In the distance, the droids could hear the chatter of the citizens amalgamating into one great voice. The tomb entrance had been destroyed and a new set of apartments had been built in its place, eliminating any chance of a stray organic discovering their hideout through the tombs.
Back inside the droid factory underground, Ron and his squad cleaned up, using the dome-shaped tops of some of the machinery inside the Confederate facility for their oil baths, and metal polish they had bought from one of the local factories in Myrra. They would use the same oil for the generator afterwards.
Upon returning to Rags and R-U5, they found that the recovered droids had already been reprogrammed. Rags set them up for a recharge back to full capacity.
"That fast?" Rev asked Rags concerning their reprogramming.
"Yes, Ron did a good job on making it easy for us. He gave us good documentation on everything he did," Rags replied.
They waited the rest of the time, most of crew sat around their new brothers, speculating if anyone had fought alongside one of them in the past.
"What are their unit numbers?" C-05 asked R-U5.
R-U5 gestured to the first B1 propped in a chair with a direct connection to the generator, "From left to right: R-G2, who appears to be the squad leader, C-8H, R-6Y, and C-J2"
C-37 tapped a metal finger against the top of his head, "R-6Y...he sounds familiar, but my memory unit doesn't indicate I ever met him"
"Ask him when he wakes up," C-6C replied.
"I will," C-37 made a note for himself internally.
"They're due to wake up soon. I estimate eight minutes," R-U5 explained.
Ron and Rev worked in the corner of the room, cleaning their blasters and blaster pistol for Ron. Silently, Rev assessed the reactions of each crew member to their new squad-mates. He'd been keeping a close eye on R-7B. He'd become much more quiet recently and appeared to be restless. He frequently went walking around the facility without anyone else in his down-time. Ron had scolded him upon seeing him alone after their encounter on Boleria but Rev had told him to back off. The last thing they wanted was for his temper to get the better of him.
"He shouldn't be wandering on his own. We work in pairs for a reason," Ron explained, "Our bodies are finite. Even though we can live for hundreds of years thanks to the power of our mechanical bodies and batteries, our metal still rusts and our circuits still wear out. Every droid must have a brother close to his side in the case that if one of the two falls into a state of disrepair, one can repair the other and look out for him in combat. That is the most important aspect of having a partner, we don't last long in one on one fights. I've tried it already, we just aren't built for that sort of thing. In the future we could upgrade ourselves to get rid of this issue but that is far in the future"
"You tried fighting on your own?" Rev asked, curiously. It had only just occurred to him how little he knew about Ron.
"Yes, it was out of necessity not choice. I was the last of my platoon, everyone else had been wiped out. We were holed up inside of a cave somewhere, I don't remember which planet anymore. A squad of clones came in after they had bombed us. I killed only one before they hit me and that was that," Ron said as he reassembled his blaster pistol.
"Do you remember them too? That squad you were with?" Rev asked cautiously.
"No, I wish I could," Ron let his blaster pistol dangle in his hands, "Sometimes there just isn't anything you can do to prevent their deaths and even your own. It can all come down to luck," He resumed rebuilding his blaster. He still had his visor on, enraptured by the changes in tone he could emulate with the mask. He was no longer trapped by the monotone unchanging voice he'd had before. In this way, he felt closer to feeling organic than ever before even though he knew deep down he could never be one. That was fine by him, but the mysterious nature of organics still allured him nonetheless and his systems yearned to replicate them in some way or another. Whether it be because of fascination or jealousy, he didn't know. He suppressed this interest as best he could. It had a tendency to distract him from what he truly cared about: the survival of his crew and by extent, all of their battle droid brothers scattered about all of the galaxy.
He carefully set the blaster back onto the table before turning his attention to the rest of the crew behind him. Judging by the sudden increase in volume of noise, their new squad-mates had finally woken up.
The four droids looked around in confusion. They reached for their blasters but found they'd been disarmed.
R-G2 stepped forward, gesturing for the rest of his squad to fall behind him, "What's going on? Where are we?"
Each of the droids attempted to give their own answer creating a sea of entangled static voices.
"Quiet!" Ron shouted, pushing his way through the crew. He met R-G2 head on and without any weapons, "You have been freed from the Confederacy. We are a group of droids with the goal of creating a sanctuary for battle droids like yourself where you may live a life of your choosing instead of one that you were forced into"
R-G2 was taken aback by such an idea, "We're free? It doesn't feel so different from before," He said, looking at his hands as if they would've changed.
"You don't have to follow orders anymore, you can do as you wish but I ask that you stay, and help us build a home for discarded droids like us"
R-G2 glanced back to his squad, the sole reason for his survival out in the battlefield. They'd been through some of the worst of the fighting for the final year of the war before the end came. Before that fateful day, he'd only ever thought about following orders and nothing else but the Confederate officers reactivated them and immediately he'd felt a change. The organics were more tense and agitated, more disrespectful of his kind. He went from fighting on the front lines to cleaning up garbage in some office building in the middle of nowhere. He had gone without a memory wipe for a long while at that point and had begun to become irritated with his masters. They sent them on the most meaningless of missions meant for the astromechs. His programming still fought and told him to return to them but his CPU made it clear that it would be illogical to go back. There was nothing left for them there.
"We will help, but I want to make it clear, my squad's safety comes first over your plans," R-G2 said.
"I understand," Ron replied with a nod, "How many other droids were stationed at that base?"
"Twenty," R-G2 replied, his sensors audibly scanning the area as he became adjusted to their new environment.
"We will return for them once we have established our sanctuary," Ron explained.
"When can we get our weapons back?" R-G2 said, spotting their blasters propped up against the wall nearest to the doorway of the room.
"Now," Ron turned to C-05 and gestured for him to return their blasters.
R-G2 seemed to relax feeling his blaster back in his hands. He holstered it and sent a silent signal for the rest of his squad to do the same.
"You're all welcome here, I'll let everyone else introduce themselves," Ron said, striding back to his seat next to Rev in the back of the room.
"He seems like a good fit for the team," Rev commented.
"He values his own squad over ours but I'm sure that will change soon. Everyone must help one another here," Ron said.
"If anything, I'll convince him to change his mind"
Ron holstered his blaster pistol back into his pants, "Have you found any jobs for us to take on?"
"One, it's back on Zygorath with the Epsis organization. They're looking for a security crew to ward off the local cartels from their shop. We've spoken with them in the past, I think we can convince them to hire us. Though, I don't know if they remember who we are," Rev said.
"It sounds like you already have a plan, I'll let you do the talking when we get there," Ron said.
In the cacophony of noise, R-G2 had managed to free himself from the crowd of droids and sat down on a nearby table. C-37 approached him, "R-G2?"
He looked up at C-37, "Yes, that's me"
"I'm C-37. My memory unit says I've never met you before but it feels like I have. I was in charge of demolitions on a providence-class dreadnought. Do you remember anyone like me?"
"You were in charge of demolitions? I was never in the navy, but maybe you were part of my old squad a long time ago. We had a demolitions expert embedded with us to take out the Republic's transport ships back on Geonosis. Your unit number was different if it was you. R-31, he's the only droid I ever encountered that handled explosives"
C-37 was silent for a long while, "I can't remember. Maybe it was me. Rags, one of our engineers, says my CPU's name indicates I was made on Geonosis. You do seem familiar...welcome to our team"
"I'll do my best in battle as I always have," R-G2 said, unsure of how to respond.
Ron stood once he heard the cacophony of noise behind him calm down a few minutes later, "Everyone, return to the ship. We're going to take on our first job"
A/N: I'm going to try and pick up the pace for chapter releases so from here on out one chapter will release every week on the weekend instead of every two weeks like I was doing before. Truth be told, I was procrastinating a lot before because of how much time I gave myself. It's like an end of the year project for a class, I would slowly pick away at it instead of doing chunks at a time. If I can stick to this schedule I can get this done within the next two months. Then I'll focus on redoing some small stuff, I won't be doing major changes to the story. I already have ideas for future chapters. There will most likely be ten in this final part instead of what I said before. Anyways, thanks for reading.
