Hyperspace travel had a peculiar stillness to it. Most people who were unable to spend days, weeks, or even months on the go describe it as an unnatural calmness that wraps around the ship like a thick veil, giving them a sense of claustrophobia.
For me, it evokes the feeling of peace, even in a bucket that we were riding on at the moment.
It was called the Raven's Crest, an old Barloz-class freighter, actually looking like a rusted bucket. Even considering its age, it was surprisingly well put together as it cut through the blue tunnel of hyperspace without much of an issue. It was an inconspicuous vessel, precisely the kind of ship we needed. We couldn't just take off one of the Academy's vessels or anything that would give away our identities at once. So, the choice had been made, and Master Katarn procured this ship for us after we left Yavin 4. Its hull was anything but fresh, bearing the scars of countless missions; its paint was chipped and faded, and its interior was a patchwork of repairs and modifications. Perfection. To the untrained eye, it was just another junker, belonging to nobodies, coming and going, following the trade lanes.
Inside, it was just as junky as on the outside. That was the point. Of course, what was under the hood and rusted panels was a different question altogether. For one, when I sat down on the co-pilot's chair and looked over the systems Master Katarn was listing, the main drive was clearly upgraded. Its output was punching way above the ship's actual level, the same as its shielding. It could take some heavy hits before anything could get through, and I mean proper turbolaser fire.
For weapons, though, well, that was one part we were lacking. We had one laser battery, placed at the top of the ship and able to rotate 360 degrees, and two torpedo launchers, one facing forward and one backward. That was it. It's not that we were expecting to assault an enemy base, so... I guess it made sense.
After giving it a few rounds, I quickly got used to how the ship handled itself. Although the engines were powerful, the ship wasn't exactly nimble. It was quick but not something that could zig-zag in and out of an asteroid field.
Not that I was going to try it because, at the moment, I was in the ship's workshop.
I sat at a well-lit worktable in the freighter's cramped space, which we set up before leaving. My sleeves rolled up as I leaned over the rusted head of the HK droid we had recovered. Tools that I personally asked for were scattered across the workbench. At the same time, my eyes watched the flickering screens displaying diagnostic data, checking my previous eight hours of work. I was trying to restore some of the information within the droid before turning it back on, and Vila came to see me right away. Hearing I was about to finish, she sat beside me, arms folded, watching with a skeptical glare.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean, this is essentially a Sith toy, right? The Grandmaster himself said this one is tainted."
"Yes, but... I don't know..." I exhaled, rubbing a bit of grease off my fingers. It was touched by the Dark Side, but was it really evil? It was one thing, reading about the Dark Side, hearing the stories... And it was another thing coming face to face with it. "Yeah, I remember," I repeated. "But we need it operational if we're going to track down the actual Sith. Besides, I've rerouted some of its functions, and I think I've disabled its combat protocols for now. It shouldn't be able to attack us... and should recognize me as its new Master."
"Well, it still doesn't have anybody to fight with. At least that's that." Vila scoffed, shaking her head. "I mean, it shouldn't be able to. That's comforting? But you also said it controlled other droids from afar, so... If something happens, I'll disable it." She snorted, having one of his lightsabers in hand.
"Trust me, it will be fine!" I said, offering her a lopsided grin. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Taking over the ship's systems?" Vila said with a deadpan stare. "I could list a few dozen more possibilities, but sure, let's see how this plays out."
"Here goes nothing..." I muttered as I took a breath, reached over, and pressed the activation switch. The head twitched slightly, a faint hum emanating from within as power coursed through its circuits, coming from a private power bank because I wasn't going to connect it to the ship's systems, of course. The photoreceptors flickered again, their dull red glow sparking to life before intensifying into a bright, eerie crimson.
Then... A second passed. Then another.
And then, the droid finally spoke again. The same playful, mocking, and somewhat egotistical voice came from its mouthpiece, making its eyes flicker at the tone of his speech.
[Observation: I appear to be still missing a large portion of my superior chassis. Diagnosis: My mobility is currently nonexistent. Sarcastic Conclusion: I have been blessed to fall into the hands of an ungrateful meatbag. How… unfortunate."
Vila flinched, her hand instinctively moving toward her side, ready to slash out at any time, ending the droid's long years of existence. On the other hand, despite myself, I just smirked.
"Yeah, sorry about that," I said. "I haven't decided yet on what kind of body to give you. I thought about putting you on a mouse droid, though."
To that... The droid's head tilted slightly toward me.
[Statement: The meatbag's attempt at humor is at a lower effort than the level my head is sitting at. Observation: Well, at least the meatbag with a rudimentary understanding of droid maintenance managed to restore some of my memories. How novel. I would offer my gratitude, but such sentimentality is irrelevant to a Jedi.]
"It is a unique droid, that's for sure..." Vila snorted. "Charming Sith artifact."
[...] The HK unit's photoreceptors locked onto her, hearing her speak, taking a moment to talk again. [Observation: And another organic. This one appears… agitated. Judging by your body language, I estimate a seventy-three percent chance that you are considering violence. A commendable instinct.]
"Great..." Vila scowled. "I don't need a droid psychoanalyzing me."
[Reassurance: Do not worry, volatile meatbag. I am merely programmed to assess potential threats. You, for instance, display the delightful combination of barely restrained hostility and underlying emotional instability. Were I still fully operational, I would be quite eager to see your combat capabilities firsthand.]
"Really?" Vila crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Well, too bad for you. You're just ahead. I guess, even if you were fully assembled, I would still dismantle you before you could speak."
"Don't let it agitate you," I cut in while I cleared my throat before the droid could retort. "Look, we activated you for a reason," I explained, steering the conversation back on track. "We're looking for a group of Sith. They disappeared four years ago, and we believe you might be able to help us find them."
[...] The droid was silent for a moment once again, its eyes turning back to me, clearly thinking. Then, it spoke, its voice laced with intrigue. [Statement: Ah, the shunned type of Jedi. Such wonderful creatures. Ruthless. Efficient. Always in need of a competent assassin droid. I served many of their kind in my operational years. Some were disappointing. Some were delightfully sadistic.]
"We guessed as much..." I muttered while I exchanged a glance with Vila. "So, can you track them?"
[...] The droid's photoreceptors flickered again. [Processing… Analysis: My memory banks remain overwhelmingly corrupted. However, given the Sith's known behavioral patterns, my skills of tracking down meat bags, and my experience of the tricks that you Jedi, no matter which allegiance, employ, I may indeed be able to find them. Given I get reasonable resources and data.]
"Hah!" Vila arched a brow. "And what exactly is 'reasonable'?"
[Clarification: That depends. If they are making use of Sith artifacts, dark side nexuses, or other such delightful sources of corruption, I may be able to research my database, despite its corruption, to locate items or places of interest.]
"Who knows if your information is still valid," I said, making it answer promptly.
[Mournful Acknowledgement: A valid concern. I was out of commission longer than expected. Prideful Addendum: But knowing my worth, the rest of my body may qualify as desired replicas for such dark and twisted-minded Jedi as the Sith.]
"What does that mean?" Vila asked, but the droid didn't answer her.
"He means that if we can identify him as a Sith artifact, they can do too. So, it is highly possible that the rest of his body is in their possession. Or some part of it." I sat back, exhaling slowly.
"Which he could probably sense or something..." Vila nodded, but HK remained silent throughout our conversation.
"Yeah... and that's better than nothing and flying around blindly."
[Preemptive Warning: However, such tracking methods are imprecise. And without my whole internal system being restored, my efficiency is… diminished. Once again, I would require a mobile platform to maximize my capabilities.]
"Heh!" Vila smirked. "Nice try, rust bucket, but we're not giving you a body just so you can run off and start assassinating people again and leave us in some droid-made trap."
[Thoughtful Response: I wouldn't do that. I would kill you first.] Then, while I held up a hand for Vila to stay seated, the droid's voice took on a distinctly disappointed tone. [Resigned Statement: A pity. It is you, Jedi meatbags, who lose out on me.]
"I am not so sure about that," I said while I reached for a datapad, linking it to the HK unit's systems. "For now, we'll start by running some deep scans. If you pick up anything related to the Sith, let us know."
[Shocked Realization: The meatbag has modified my perception! The gall of forcing me to acknowledge him as... ugh... Master...] The droid let out a low, mechanical groan. [Acknowledgment: Very well, meatbags. I shall comply… for now.]
Yet, before either of us could respond, a voice crackled through the ship's intercom.
"Kael, Vila, get up here," came Master Ben's voice. "We just dropped out of hyperspace, and we might have a problem."
"A problem?" I asked as we exchanged looks.
"Of course we do," Vila muttered. "Wouldn't be a mission without a problem."
"Tsk..." I grunted, clicking my tongue, already rising to my feet. "Guess we'll have to deal with this later."
[Affirmation: Of course, meatbag. I mean, Master.] The HK droid's photoreceptors gleamed. [Observation: Ah, the chaotic nature of organic existence. How delightfully inefficient.]
Vila glared at the droid once more before I turned it back off, and we headed toward the cockpit in front of the ship. The ship was already shaking and groaning, signaling that we were, indeed, out of hyperspace. Although we probably were not under attack, there had to be something outside that was shaking the ship as such.