RA-7E booted to life, a blue light flooding into his two bulbous broadband photoreceptors not far from resembling the compound eyes of an insectoid. His glossy white plating reflected the dim luminous panels lining the walls of the closet-like compartment he was currently housed in.
As he was awakened by the automatic unclamping of the charging ports previously secured to his back, he ran a mandatory full diagnostic scan of his internal systems. This was a commonplace practice among most droids, but especially tactical models such as himself.
His power levels had just struck 100%, the cause of the flipped conduit breaker that had brought him back from an energizing slumber, preventing his interior wiring from overloading due to an excess surge of electricity. Not that power surges were a commonplace occurrence, Arakyd Industries were simply notorious for implementing an overabundance of precautionary measures.
A loud hissing noise emanated throughout the small chamber as the charging cables fully disconnected from the back of the RA-7’s thoracic panel, quickly and almost violently retracting back into the wall. As they finished snapping into place, the tactical droid stepped down from his elevated charging platform.
The room rattled as RA-7E continued to watch the day’s diagnostics rapidly filter through his mechanical mind.
Today was the two hundred and sixth day he had been stationed aboard the Vindicator-class heavy cruiser registered in the Imperial logs as the “Prospector.”
Today was also the five hundred and seventy-ninth day since he had initially been booted up, a momentous occasion for most droids possessing at least some level of complex awareness. His memory banks could still vividly picture the long assembly lines, metallic warehouses, massive craters, and droid landfills at Arakyd Industries industrial complex on Vulpter.
Unlike the disorderly (and by organics standards) disgusting surface of the corporate world where he had been birthed, the interior of this Imperial cruiser was uniformed and orderly. This brought RA-7E a strange sense of comfort and relatability, if such emotions were even possible for a droid.
The ship subtly rocked under RA-7E’s feet, forcing his lower stabilizers to fire and keep his heavy, metallic body balanced on the often uneven floor.
Among all of the new entries added to the Imperial databanks regarding planet statuses, officer promotions and demotions, updated tactics, and naval deployments, the protocol droid noticed another update had been installed into his memory banks since he was last awake.
Over 23 newly discovered languages had been added to his pool of over 6 million intricate tongues, although many of these were either hybrid languages or ones originating from new species and worlds he had yet to receive any other official information regarding.
All of his internal systems seemed to be running at peak performance, aside from a servo in his right elbow joint. However, after a quick statistical diagnostics run, RA-7E decided it was low priority and not serious enough to report at this moment as it would not greatly interfere with his tactical duties for the day.
The last information to be relayed to RA-7E were his daily directives. They often included running rudimentary diagnostics on the ships hyperspace trajectories, scrutinizing crew and cargo manifests for the two hundredth time over, or simply relaying messages and updates from the bridge crew to the ships commanding officer, and his current owner, Imperial Admiral Bennet.
Today was no different, although the Admiral had requested that the droid first report directly to his quarters immediately after activation. This was an uncharacteristic request from the officer, and RA-7E could easily count the number of times he had been asked to do so on one of his metallic, vaguely humanoid hands.
But orders were orders, and his primary directive dictated that they be followed to a tee, as long as they didn’t violate any of the precautionary failsafes put in place by his Imperial manufacturers, all intended to prevent unwieldy and inappropriate actions unbefitting of lowly droids. Of course, RA-7E would never willingly violate these directives, not that he could perform any actions barred by these failsafes if he ever felt the need to do so.
Could a droid even determine a personal need, if there was such a thing? Or are my needs and primary directive one in the same?
This had always been a lingering question RA-7E tended to process far too often, but today, the Imperial tactical droid did not have time to ponder such ideas. He quickly stepped out of the room that housed the ship’s droid charging dock and into the bustling corridor.
A small MSE-6-Series repair droid rolled down the hallway around RA-7E’s feet, and he heard it squeal something about putting out a small fire near the reactor room. RA-7E quickly refreshed the ship’s damage logs and indeed there had been a small surge near the reactor only a minute prior. He wondered if that had had anything to do with the captain’s odd orders, or if the odd events were unrelated. A quick, calculated probability led him to rely on the latter.
As the small box-like droid whizzed around the corner and out of sight, RA-7E also wondered why the humans kept referring to it as a “mouse droid,” as it did not resemble a small field rodent in any capacity imaginable.
No matter.
A squad of white clad Imperial Stormtroopers also ran down the hall past RA-7E, almost knocking him over. He quickly identified all of their designations as troopers SC-1112141 through SC-1112144.
One of his many duties was to keep track of the location of every soldier assigned to the Prospector, both Army and Navy, and Squad 14 was definitely not at their assigned duty post.
He ran through the ship’s assignment records, but found nothing of a squad transfer. He would have to ask Admiral Bennet of the station change when he arrived at his quarters.
RA-7E boarded the cylindrical lift that would take him to the Heavy Cruiser’s upper decks, and specifically the Admiral’s quarters. An Imperial technician stepped onto the elevator just as the door was closing, and the two began ascending towards the Prospector’s upper deck.
Both remained silent, RA-7E continuing to run his internal scans while wondering if organics could run a self-diagnostic of their own bodies in a similar fashion. The droid assumed they could not, just as they could not perform a lot of other higher functions within a droid of his caliber’s range of capabilities. Otherwise, he would have no reason to exist, and RA-7E preferred to keep his existence the way it had been..
As the door opened and the two exited, the technician was stopped by a Stormtrooper. Clearance onto the upper decks, and especially the officers wing, was very strict. And the RA-7 knew the technician would probably have to go through a number of security checkpoints while he was on this level alone.
The hallways were also much sparser up here, and they took on a color slightly closer to RA-7E’s own white metal plating, at least compared to the shiny, gray corridors down below. Still, by all human metrics, the interior of nearly any Imperial installation or craft was bleak and uniform. Just how RA-7E preferred.
He extended a CPU interface coupling from one of his fingers into the circular port beside the door to the Admiral’s quarters. It took only a moment to spin the lock into the right configuration, and feeling the whirring pistols fall into place brought RA-7E a feigned sense of satisfaction.
The door slipped upwards, revealing the rather lush officer’s quarters belonging to Admiral Bennet. It was not as luxurious as the Admiral’s suite on a vessel like an Imperial-class Star Destroyers, but it was still far nicer than any other living quarters RA-7E had observed aboard the Prospector. Definitely much nicer than the troop barracks below, and leagues above the small chamber that he regularly resided in.
The Admiral was hunched over on his bed, cleanly shaven head between his hands, and his cap nowhere to be seen. He looked up at the glossy white droid and flashed him an ersatz smile.
“Welcome RA-7, I trust your time charging below served you well?”
RA-7E was not keen on small talk, having far too many questions to bring up to the Admiral. He needed a clear directive if he was to be productive for the remainder of the simulated day.
“Admiral Bennet, I have a number of inquiries. A handful of troops were not at their assigned post, and I cannot-“
At that moment, the young technician from the elevator entered the room, cutting him off.
“You requested my services, Admiral?”
They exchanged salutes and the Admiral stood to his feet, fastening the top flap of his gray-green uniform.
“Yes, I need to get inside this droid.”
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