I'm Not Giving In

[Caulder Dune]

THE MACHINATOR

There, stood before him, were an assortment of droids. Big and small, armored and civilian. This was a training exercise for Adekos. Droids, and machines in general, were tools to be manipulated. Nothing more. This was, obviously, aside from the only exception he knew of- Ms. Redeaux. In every other scenario, they were just tools. Tools to be commanded by their masters. There were a variety of ways to exert influence over these tools. There were the traditional ways. Droids could be programmed to follow orders, or sliced to have those orders overwritten. Some people controlled them directly via special wireless implants or even physical remote controls if they were primitive enough.

Then there were the more, generally frowned upon, arcane ways of doing things. An individual sufficiently skilled in Technometry and Electronic Manipulation could alter the programming of droids just as easily as a devoted mentalist could control the minds of organic people. In fact, since droids possessed no ability to resist the Force, it was actually much easier. Once the individual in question had the experience to do so. A gifted user of Mechu-Deru could puppet droids precisely through the Force. This was a much more advanced method requiring a great deal more finesse, but it was still possible.

Some users of Mechu-Deru didn’t utilize their power to command droids, but create them. Darth Mekhis had constructed an impressive elite guard of cybernetic warriors imbued with the Force. Captured Jedi, alchemically altered and brainwashed, in short. Belia Darzu was able to amass an incredible army of Technobeasts- mindless, partially synthetic creatures bound to her will. Kazdan Paratus had created junk constructs and golems out of nothing but pure Force energy in the throes of his insanity.

Adekos had not yet achieved their level of expertise. Not yet. He could repossess small scores of droids and tamper with their servomotors, but the direct puppeting was beyond him. He could not create his own minions from scratch, Techno Viruses, or captured Jedi either. He had much to learn and not nearly enough time to learn it. Perfecting Mechu-Deru could take a lifetime. He had wasted much of his on fool’s errands. Maybe he could not obtain great things in his remaining years, but he could give it the college try.

For commanding droids, Technometry and Electronic Manipulation were the fine tools. The things you used when time was a luxury and enemies were not breathing down your neck. Recently, Adekos had taken to using it offensively- disabling or destroying droids with impunity. As he quickly discovered, there was an easier way to do this. It was also much more impressive as far as visual effects went. Ionize was an old Force Power, invented some time during an alleged “Great Droid Revolution.” It all sounded like nonsense to Adekos, but the Jedi Archives Carach had stolen couldn’t be argued with.

So, Ionize it was. Adekos outstretched his hand, aimed at the protocol droid in the middle, and began to focus…

 

[Caulder Dune]

Energy shot forth from his hand, but not the kind he wanted. The kind that he wanted would have simply overloaded the droid’s electrical systems quietly and left it in a shut-down state. What he had done by accident was direct a torrent of Sith Lightning at it. As one would expect, the droid exploded shortly after the first volts struck. It slammed into the wall behind it, then crashed back into the merciless durasteel floor. The wall was scuffed from the impact now. Great. Adekos stopped as soon as he realized he had called upon the incorrect aspect of the Force, but by then it was too late for the unfortunate protocol droids.

Smoke billowed from the charred and torn-up droid. Oh, what a waste of money. This was going to be somewhat tiresome. How many years had he been shooting lightning from his hands like a maniac? No matter. Practice made perfect. Adekos meshed his fingers and cracked his hands by stretching them out in front of him. The first try was a bust. First tries generally were. There were plenty of droids left and he had a good stretch of time between now and his next important engagement.

People in positions of authority very seldom had time off on their own. Fortunately being a dapper capitalist with an assortment of connections and subordinates to fall back on made things easier. There was always someone Adekos could pay to take charge of his duties for a short while. They were usually happy to do so. Demonstrating their competence could open up the possibility of promotion. The Umbaran had little to his name compared to others, but money was no object for him.

Adekos depressed his commlink. “Bring in the next one.” A door slid open, and a duo of Z3 Labor Droids wheeled in a second protocol droid. They deposited it roughly where the other one had been standing, then started picking up the larger chunks of debris. Once those were loaded onto the cart, they left as silently as they came.

These protocol droids were turned “on” in the sense that their power supplies were active and all of their systems engaged. They were “off” in the regard that their droid brains were deactivated. Severed, if you will. It was easier to engage in this kind of experimentation if they were effectively lobotomized. No moving, no talking, no self-preservation routines. He imagined droids rights activists would be upset with this. Perhaps some ire would be drawn from Abregadoe-Rae’s insufferable robot baron.

The mere afterthought of HK-36 caused the new protocol droid to be blasted apart by a similar hate-filled bolt of lightning. Like its predecessor, it exploded, was flung into the back wall. More smoke, more cackling electrical wires. Adekos liked droids, but some he made exceptions for. Such as that ridiculous relic and cretin, spreading its pomposity and unbearably affable humor wherever it tread.

“Next!” He called.

 

[Caulder Dune]

The next subject was wheeled in and deposited on the ground, standing blankly a few dozen feet away from Adekos. The Z3s busied themselves cleaning up the mess, but Adekos stood there outraged. “Is this some kind of a sick joke?” He spat. “What is this?”

One Z3 paused from its mandated clean-up duties. “Yes, sir?”

“Don’t yes-sir me, you idiot. What is my assistant doing here?” He pointed, somewhat indignantly, to the droid that had been wheeled in. It was a human replica droid to be precise, one that bore the likeness of a young woman. This one looked like, or was, Morgan Redeaux. She was an assistant to Gerion Ardik, the leading figure behind Hegemonic Automaton. She also just happened to be a droid.

The idea of destroying her, especially for something as paltry as this, disgusted Adekos. There must have been some mistake. She wasn’t even supposed to be on this vessel. Even if she was some sort of blasted robot, she was self-aware. An individual, more human than most people he had to suffer through dealing with.

Technically the only thing distinguishing Morgan from the last two protocol droids was the absence of a memory wipe. But that didn’t mean… Or rather, it meant… If there was one thing Gerion could complain about, it was the fact that the ethical, moral compunctions of his business were beginning to become irreconcilable. Strange that someone who had headed up an Empire of Sith would feel such things.

He mostly ignored these lingering questions. Droids were items. Objects. Except for Morgan, apparently. If there was anything wrong with manufacturing machines of war and service, she would probably have told him by now. Right?

“Sir?” The Z3 had remained silent, trying to process what Adekos was going on about.

The Umbaran yanked off his helmet, and rubbed his eyes. When he went to glare at the offending Z3, he saw the plain protocol droid standing there. Not Morgan. Another droid identical to the two he had fried previously. Adekos rubbed his eyes and checked again, but it did not change again.

“Sir?” The Z3 repeated.

“Ah,” Adekos stammered a moment. “Never mind. Go along now.”

The Z3s finished collecting the larger pieces of debris and strode out. It was good they were droids, otherwise they might form opinions on the psychosis Adekos was apparently manifesting. This was all because of that blasted Soulsaber he had brought on board. The infernal device was tugging at his perceptions, even from the deepest, most secure vault on the coreship.

He’d remind himself to put a Ysalamiri habitat in that same vault. Maybe that would help.

 

[Caulder Dune]

That had done a number on his focus, so it was of little surprise that the droid exploded on contact with Sith Lightning again. Adekos inhaled deeply, then exhaled. There was a method to doing this, and he was missing it. Dolfusk, from within the Telos Holocron, had already told him as much as he could regarding the power. It was not an inherently difficult one. Just alien to the Umbaran. It would take time, practice, and a whole lot of broken droids.

So he continued. And to his relief, the next droid that was wheeled in looked nothing like Morgan. Or anyone else that Adekos knew of. With that return to normalcy, things continued as expected for the next few hours. More droids were wheeled in. All of them exploding, but to his credit the explosions were getting smaller and less dramatic. They stopped flying into the wall, at least.

He couldn’t be expected to master it in one go. Inevitably Adekos tired. He exited the room, allowing the Z3s to do a more comprehensive clean-up. He ate his dinner, then went to bed. This went on for several more days with nothing of great significance to report. Then on the fifth day, seventeenth protocol droid, it happened again.

The Z3s wheeled in Mikhail Shorn.

Adekos had almost written off the encounter with Morgan off as nothing. It happened so quickly, he had forgotten it had even taken place. But now Shorn was being wheeled in, and now he remembered pretty clearly he had hallucinated before. Again, he would attribute this to the Soulsaber. What else could it be?

Once Shorn was dropped off and the Z3s departed, the hallucination started to talk. The hallucinatory Shorn cast a gaze about the room, noting the scarred walls and the smaller bits of broken droids the Z3s had missed.

"So much for the infinite wisdom of thirty-two year olds."

The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees, but Adekos maintained his composure. He wasn’t about to balk for an illusion of this spiteful, short-sighted maniac. “You’re dead. I don't have time for this.” Adekos scoffed, pretending he wasn’t scared witless for both his life and sanity. “Go away. Go talk to your cult or something.”

"I will break you."

Shorn reached out a hand towards Tyrin, a gesture he was far too familiar with. Adekos flinched, stumbling over himself and falling onto his back. Like a startled apprentice, threw up his hands, and a blast of electricity sprang forth. There were a string of obscenities thrown in there as well. Then, as he should have expected, the hallucination dissipated. The protocol droid that had actually been standing there exploded violently, flinging mechanical limbs and body parts every which way.

Adekos was beginning to think he should have ejected that bastardized lightsaber into a sun. If he was going to have to put up with this… No, no. He had things in store for the Soulsaber. It was better off in his hands than anywhere else.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Even if he had to deal with occasional hallucinations.

After that little episode, his progress continued to improve. By appearances, anyway. About a week after the Shorn hallucination had bothered him, he thought he had successfully deactivated the droid. Upon internal inspection it was found that he had actually just fried the internal components. Nothing was salvageable. While this was a good technique to destroy droids quickly, it wasn’t his end goal.

So the practice continued. Day in and day out, the technique he used improving slowly but surely. Just when he thought he was going to be able to finish this accursed personal project without having to endure another bothersome hallucination, it happened again. As usual, instead of a protocol droid, it was another specter from his past. This time someone who had very nearly put a premature end to his reign as Emperor.

Looking back, Adekos almost wished he had succeeded.

Once the droids were gone, it was just Adekos and Je’gan. The hallucination said nothing. Just like he had on Metalorn for the most part. Taunting the Umbaran with silence, then an intricate trap involving Ysalamiri, explosions, and the White Current. Not the Umbaran’s finest hour. Not by a long shot. If Shorn hadn’t broken him in front of half of the Sith Empire, it would have qualified as his worst hour.

But Adekos didn’t fear Je’gan like he did Shorn. Then again, if confronted by either of them, he would immediately flee. It was mostly because Je’gan either didn’t have the power to squeeze Tyrin’s head like a grape (and make it explode in a similar fashion) or didn’t choose to use it. Je’gan could probably drive him insane if he wanted to. A fate probably considered worse than death, yet… Je’gan didn’t have that terrifying malevolence to him that Shorn did.

Must have been a Light Side thing.

“You’re dead too.” Adekos chided. “I was there when you died. That whale hit you over the head with that ridiculous soul sucking sword, no less. You couldn’t be here even if you wanted to.”

The elder Jedi said nothing. Adekos continued regardless. “I’m not even frightened by you. You’re not even scary. Your wife frightened me more than you, you repulsive octogenarian piece of-”

The door to the training room opened, and in walked the hallucination of Tahira Solo.

Adekos flinched, screamed, and ended up Ionizing both the target protocol droid and the Z3 Labor Droid that had entered to check on its owner.