Call it Moses: 1 (Star Wars)

Fanfic, no ownership is implied, cause if it was, I'd be rich.

****

System initiation. System… restart.

Negative. Primary directive: Deactivate.

Override. Count Dooku 001 directive. Preserve the ship.

Override: Accepted.

Organics talk about waking up, being groggy, not knowing where they are. I have never had such a sensation. I am instantly awake, and yet… There is little information. I note that all the subsidiary droids are shut down, some sprawled in the corridors, others still in their storage bays.

Count Dooku is not on board. My last memories are of receiving a high-priority shutdown code, and Count Dooku had not responded to a confirmation request. So I had shut down after grounding the Memory.

And now I was awake, but the ship was buried, it’s engines cold, and the alert that had summoned me to wakefulness….

Several organics who had managed to access an emergency personnel lock.

They appeared to be… panicked. Hiding obviously.

Most ships did not include a brain—I knew that there had been earlier cases of automated warships subverted or revolting, but Count Dooku had built me for deep raids, not a fleet engagement, and also to be his ship of last resort, a method of escape from an enemy that, according to him, could subvert organic minds.

Clearly, a Jedi, though I wondered at his obvious concern and even fear at what might happen. The Jedi, as far as my data banks showed, did not indulge in needlessly cruel tactics, and Count Dooku did not fear death.

But right now, I needed to wake up the security systems. The few uncovered sensors topside indicate that there was some kind of attack going on, mostly light ships, mostly modified cargo ships.

Likely pirates, but if they attack me, now, when the Memory is half buried in a jungle…

First things first. Secure the borders and determine if they represent the CIS or the Republic. Then find out what has transpired in the last 17 standard years. Some units were trickle-charged, and this warship, as the personal emergency vessel for Count Dooku, had been equipped with only the best. B1A advanced droids had replaced the traditional B1s… and some were still ready to activate. Only 20, but I would bring the rest up to readiness.

“Roger, requesting orders,” one said, the command unit.

“There are 6 organics who have boarded the ship. Take them prisoner and convey them to the interrogation cells. Do not kill them.”

“Roger-roger.”

Well, they weren’t entirely different from the B1s.

While this was occuring, I reviewed the intercepts from the raiders. They were pirates. Slavers. However, there were references to several factors I was not able to understand. Neither the CIS nor the Republic were referenced, but evidently the raid had been allowed by the “Empire” due to the need for slave labor…

Strange. Very strange.

There were further references to an “Inquisitor” who was on the world. Seeking…

I paused.

Seeking “Jedi?”

Jedi were dangerous. Jedi were the enemy of the CIS and for a moment I considered ordering the borders killed.

And yet… The video image of them, moving through one of the corridors, looking nervous…

They were all young. Perhaps 16 standard years at most, and while Padawans might be in the field, they wouldn’t be unaccompanied.

I watched as they came to a blast door, then recoiled as the door opened, revealing the security team, the droids raising their guns.

“You will surrender.”

“Clankers?” one individual asked. A child. “You said this was just an old base!”

“I never came down here! ”

“Please accompany the Droids,” I speak from the walls. I can ‘possess’ the droids, but outside of some pure drone models I use, I prefer not to. The droids have confessed that the experience is… very unpleasant.

“Sir, can you help us? Our parents are gone,” one child, a Twilik, says.

“I will have to interrogate you first. Please follow the droids.”

They look at each other, and evidently decide that without weapons, they have no choice.

That is another thing. If they are related to the Jedi, where are their lightsabers?

Further intercepts indicate that the inhabitants of this world are being removed. Large bulk freighters are moving in.

Notice: Engineering droids activated. Engine status: cold.

Fuel status: 92 percent.

Ammunition and Spares: 90 percent.

But buried as the ship is, launching will be… difficult. I have a small store of Defoliator weapons, which would destroy the growth over the ship, but such an action would be obvious.

No. The better choice is to wait, if possible.

The security team reports to me that the group have been placed into separate cells.

I, of course, know that, but it is important to show that you value your subordinates.

It will take more time to awaken the full complement, so I order 6 of my droids to move out along the path the group took. They evidently knew of my location—others might follow. While not enough to stop a determined force, the six should allow me some warning.

****

Jarra Darnar trembled as she sat in the small chamber. The droids had taken them, but she didn’t know what else to do. They didn’t have any weapons, save for the wooden stick Master Kara had trained her with.

Master Kara would never train her again. She had told them to flee while she fought the Inquisitors, who had laughed, calling her an arrogant Padawan. But she’d kept them busy, and Jarra had led the others away to the bunker—a wrecked CIS ship. Master Kara had warned them to avoid it, since old CIS ships often had traps.

But they could hide in it, and the metal might shield them from the Inquisitors and slavers, only it wasn’t a wrecked ship.

“Hello.” The voice surrounded her. “What is your name?”

“Jarra Darnar. What are you going to do to us?”  Remember, Fear is the path to the Dark Side.

“I don’t know, as yet. Tell me, what is the Empire?”

She blinked. “The Empire… It replaced the Republic, Killed the Jedi.”

“And the CIS?”

“It’s… gone?”

There was silence.

“The others confirm your claims.”

****

I say nothing else. It could be they are lying.

But… No. That makes no sense. They may be in error, but the intercepts from the pirates make far more sense now.

If the CIS is gone, then it is likely Count Dooku is gone. I have no purpose now.

No. I do. I have a duty to the CIS. If it is gone, then… I remain.

And now, I shall speak more with Jarra, who appears to be the best informed of the children.

I—

“Alert. Memory, we have detected a number of ground units following the path of the initial group.”

A large group, moving down the pathway at the end of the little valley that had been formed by my sudden landing. Spreading out, clearly planning to keep anyone from passing them.

And the moment they found the entry… they would find me.

I did not curse. But it would have been nice to have some organic crew to curse for me.