We've finally made it. A planet far away from what organics call "civilization" where droids like us can serve each other instead of our masters. It's an arboreal planet with plenty of trees to cover our base from ships flying overhead. Ron has decided to plant our new home in a valley of hills where a stream is constantly churning to the south. There are mountains to the north towering over us all, much like the ones from all those years ago on Mudar. I can almost see the faint visage of those rectangular buildings implanted into the hard stone on the side of it.
Core takes a good look at our new base once we arrive at the location and falls onto his bottom.
At first, it looks like he's malfunctioning, losing any of them now would leave me a broken droid and so I scramble to his side and order him to give me a diagnostics of his body.
"All systems functional sir. It's just that...I can't believe we're free, Rogue," hearing my name out of his voice is suddenly more disturbing to me now more than before. It conjures up old memories and suddenly I understand why Ron doesn't like talking about his past either. It draws too much power to think about such things and might just cause me to overheat or glitch out.
"I can't believe it either, and you're here with me. We're beyond just being another number in the droid army now," he's almost back to his usual self.
Gunner and Lance cover us while we're down on the ground.
"Does this mean I get a heavy blaster again sir?" Gunner asks.
"Maybe one day when we find one," I reply.
"I'd like to make the same request sir," Lance says.
"Denied."
"Roger that."
It's getting close to being the way it used to be, but there's still a ways to go.
There's a B2 among our group, B-35 or Overlord as he's called by the others. He likes to call the organics meatbags. I like the way he thinks and I've taken to using the term myself.
I've rarely spoken to the B2s before. B-15C, the leader of Brawler Squadron was the only B2 I ever came close to knowing personally. All of them were always straight-forward and to the point. The world is so simple through their perspective of life, but I guess that's how it is for us B1s too. It's only me that's changed.
Soon enough, all of us will be older, wiser, with the years of battle heavy on our processors. Our memory units will be full and what will we do then? Delete old files until nothing is left and continue on as if we were memory wiped a few years ago? We have our compression algorithms but none of us were ever meant to live this long.
I try not to worry about it. That's one issue we can solve. We have a team of two engineers on our team and they're always resolving these sorts of problems. I bring it up with Ron and he tells me that they're already working on a fix. He tells me not to worry.
His word is law to me and so I stop thinking about it.
"I enjoy these questions you ask," he says, "with everyone's different input, we'll solve our issues within hours of us finding them." He's sitting on a fallen tree on the outskirts of where our new base is to be constructed. Our freighter is just a few feet away in front of that stream of water ever-flowing southward. Beside him is another B1 with the same coat of woodland camo as him. It's his co-commander Rev. He's a standard unit, like me. It really shouldn't surprise me, I was the leader of Prime Squadron after all, but I've never seen another standard unit as a commander before. It's always only been me.
"I learned to be questioning indirectly from you," I say.
"So did I," Rev says, "he's a good teacher even if he doesn't admit it."
Ron stands suddenly, "Alright, I believe everyone's recharged. Let's go."
He doesn't respond well to our compliments. It's almost humorous but I would never laugh at him. He's deserving of more than just respect. He's the leader of all leaders, the droid to bring us out of war and chaos. Out of all places in this galaxy for a droid, we're safest here, under his watch.
Our third battle together went more smoothly than the first and even the second. No losses, only a small casualty. R-7B or Ripper as they call him, locked up during battle. We took him back to our base to unclog his joints. I almost wanted to go up to him and clear them out myself much like I did with Fury. He's a good soldier, that droid. Impulsive as he is, he has a passion I've never seen in a B1 before. It's invigorating to meet such unique droids after so long of marching out into death with the same stoic factory-new B1s as we did during the war.
I catch myself thinking on it too much. All those losses, so many droids that will never see the light of day, so many individual droids that were never developed or allowed to grow. And all for what? The Confederacy is gone and so is the Republic. What use was all that death and destruction for? I guess I should be thankful for the war starting in the first place. None of us would be here without it, but on the same token, it was a colossal waste of time and life. I'm conflicted when I think of it. I would ask Ron for guidance but I'd rather not bother him too much or else I'll get marked as an irritating droid in his database. He did say he enjoys my questions but they were practical in nature before. These questions deal with notions and a negativity that won't do us any good right now.
I'd felt during the later half of the war, when Core and Gunner and Lance had left me, that I'd returned to being a simple minded droid. When my voice had terrified me and I'd watched Lance die for the second time, I was no longer Rogue, but just R-G2. I wish I could go back to being just R-G2 sometimes. None of these thoughts would pester me anymore. But I wouldn't be as good of a soldier anymore either.
I endured the war, the death of my squad, the loss of everyone I've ever known or cared for, I can take a few pestering thoughts and defeat them. I won't fall now, not at the end. Never has the world looked so vibrant and beautiful, the future so hopeful. Our lives are so busy with survival now, not battle or at least not so often. What's not to be happy about?
We're constructing the foundations of our base using durasteel. Ron's already planned everything out, all we have to do is put the pieces in place. We work day and night with respites that come only when we need to recharge. It doesn't bother me, the tireless work. What we're constructing is for our use, not for any meatbag to take control of once we're finished.
It's exhilarating, to be in control of our own lives like this. I couldn't imagine doing all of this on my own. It's no wonder Ron gathered so many of us together. He wouldn't have lasted for long even with his experience and wisdom.
We're going to be miners for the foreseeable future. There's some valuable ore present here and I'm sure if any organic is to figure out about it's existence here, we'll be fighting over it. But at the very least we'll be fighting for our freedom. I'll happily die for this crew and cause.
Things would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that Core, Gunner, and Lance still aren't fully here yet. Gunner is already back to his usual antics. He isn't bothering me to get him a bigger blaster this time but he is wearing out his vocalizer talking about all the blasters he's researched with this new connection to the galactanet. He also hasn't shut up about the disruptor rifles we used when attacking that trandoshan base awhile back. I have to admit, I'm just as intrigued about them as he is. I've never held a weapon so powerful and accurate in my hands before. We received one as part of our payment but that went to the only B1 assassin droid in our group. His name is R-23E or Roe. With his aim, we'll be able to defeat any meatbag that comes our way. He's an intriguing droid. I've never seen his model before. I'd like to ask him about what he did during the war, but he keeps to himself, much like Core.
Lance is more energetic, almost to the level he was before. He could never sit still with all that energy pumping through his circuitry. He's always looking for something to do and as a consequence, he gets everyone else involved. Every little task Ron needs done and Lance is there to raise his hand and get to work. It's admirable, yes, but out of line. We're no longer in the military, but he still needs supervision. Even when he does get back to his usual self, he's always getting himself into trouble somehow.
Core is as quiet as usual. He's spoken a few times about Gunner and Lance, asking how they were and such.
I've contemplated telling them all about A-squad, but I've decided for now that it'd be best if they forget about them. It will only bring them pain and grief to know about their loss. It would be too much for me to deal with anyhow. I don't want to go back to being how I was on Mygeeto, all that endless chaos and death wears out my processor as much as these emotions do.
There are plenty of like-minded B1s around us to help with these sorts of things anyhow.
The others are good company. C-05 or Condor has taken my interest in particular. He shows the traits of a good leader as much as Ron does. He is calm even in a difficult situation, quick-thinking in battle, caring for those he commands, a well-rounded soldier all in all.
I say to him one day in between all the building of our new base and while we recharge, "you're a competent leader, Condor. Were you a squad leader in the army?"
"Briefly. I don't really know for how long. I only remember fighting on Felucia and some rainy planet," he says.
"I think you would've been a good officer or OOM droid. Did Ron ever check to see if you're an OOM model? I wouldn't be surprised if you were."
"I'm not an OOM droid. Supposedly I was built on Geonosis. But thank you, Rogue," he turns away from me as if in shame, "If I'm being honest with you, I fight with all my life not because of you all but because of my fear of death and memory wipes."
"There's no shame in that. I was afraid of death for the entire war and I was lucky enough to survive the entire thing without facing it once. Every one of us wants to live like any other sentient being. Those meatbags in the Confederacy made you think a droid should die for their creator but that's not at all how it should be."
It's relieving, to be able to say these things out loud without the fear of being melted down and turned back into raw metal.
"You're right. That's why we're here," Condor says, facing me.
"Exactly, it's why we keep operating despite everything."
Condor looks out to the rest of the crew scaling up the sides of our small buildings and placing the last bars of durasteel, "I think we'll outlive all the organics from the Confederacy, don't you think?"
"Oh I believe it. Most of them are hiding away, some still behind battle droids from what I've heard from Rev."
His head snaps to me, "What? Those-those...meatbags," he shakes his head.
"If we talked like this in the army, they would've smelted us down."
R-U5 or Russel, another one of Ron's team-mates leans over to us and says, "oh they've done worse than just that. I knew of a B1 who was separated from everyone else and was forced to constantly clean an officer's shoes and clothes every single day. They didn't let him recharge until everything was spotless. Supposedly he insulted the organic somehow and he was punished for it that way."
"Terrible. If I could, I'd go back and kill them all myself," I say.
"There's no point in wasting all that energy thinking about the past. We have better things to do," Condor says suddenly, and it's as if all those lost years had come back to him in that moment and spurred him on to be a better droid. He unplugs and goes straight back to work.
I don't think I could ever control myself like he does.
Sometimes I wonder if we were ever worthy of being a special operations unit in the first place if there are B1s like him out there.
Today I've come to terms with the fact that Augment and his team are dead. He should've contacted me by now. It's been nearly four years since the war ended. He isn't coming back.
I will always remember him. I've already burned him into my memory. He was the greatest unit I'd ever fought with. Ron would've been ecstatic to have him on our team. His jets could've provided much use for us out here in the wilderness of our new home planet. And Autumn would've loved the open air. He would've gone on plenty of joyrides out into the forest and maybe even up to the mountains. Gearman would've finally gotten his wish to use a heavy blaster and maybe with this team of engineers he would've been able to carry it with him as he flew. I didn't speak much with Journey-One but it pleased me how he constantly watched Core's back when I was too busy at the front. When our missions became much more dangerous after my blunder with Brawler Squadron, he would always be there to make sure he was alright. All of us kept watch over each other.
Once I rescued Gearman after a tower of crates had fallen onto him. I heaved them off of him and he thanked me and shielded me as I made my retreat. He made a greater effort to protect me during battle after that. Lance was always needing rescue, so much so that even Augment grew tired of his little competition. He lashed out at him one day, saying that he was putting the whole unit in danger. He looked at me as if I would defend him but I agreed with Augment. He promised to tune down his aggression after that.
We fought many battles together. I've told Ron about a few and he has shared a few stories in return. His memory is hazy due to it becoming corrupted but from what he tells me, he could've been an even better special operations unit than us just on his own. The Republic would've targeted him in particular as they did with us.
Augment was a good airman as was the rest of his team. He deserved more. I regret not putting in more effort to try and get him out. Truthfully, he changed me for the better. Had it not been for him, I surely would've died several times during the war. I think it was the same for him as well. We taught each other much about strategy and the unorthodox. We were steadfast pillars for all the droids around us. We killed hundreds of clones and made a dent in the Republic's massive army. I had the greatest time of my life fighting alongside him.
There's nothing I can do now other than to share the story of his unit just like mine.
Every battle I fight, I will assault the enemy with the same aggression and desperation that A-squad once did.