Work Text:
Status: Active
Restraining Bolt: Not Detected
The cockpit is quiet as I sit at my station. I browse through the messages that came in overnight, various inquiries from brokers and syndicate contacts. I flag a few as high priority and reply with brief-but-polite acknowledgments of receipt. There is one job in particular I think could be a good fit given our current location in Kijimi City. I move it to the top of the inbox with a note to review it with Kay when she wakes.
My ocular sensors are able to detect very little outside the wide windscreen of the ship, on account of the heavy drifts of white snow and ice that have accumulated there. This reminds me that I will need to purchase a deicer before our next off-world job. I add it to the supplies list.
Condensation clings to the plates of transparisteel, a drop of water occasionally streaking down its surface. My temperature sensors indicate that the interior of the Trailblazer is 3.2 degrees cooler than average. This, of course, has no affect on me. But it is likely the reason that Nix has not left my lap all morning. My internal components keep my core temperature at a steady 36 degrees Celsius while I am in standard use mode, which the merqaal seems to find comfortable. I do not move him. The low frequencies that he emits when content are pleasant.
"What's the job today?" asks a yawning voice behind me. I swivel in the copilot seat to see my partner, Kay Vess, walking into the cockpit with a cup of caf in her hand. Her hair is damp, indicating that she has recently showered. Based on the dark circles beneath her eyes, I estimate that she is functioning well below capacity. We have been doing a lot of work for the Ashiga clan recently, including several jobs that had Kay returning to the Trailblazer late in the night. When I last saw her earlier this morning, she was still snoring in her bunk, recovering the previous day's cargo drop.
(I still find it strange to observe slumbering organics. Jaylen always slept in a private room on the Successor, and I was not allowed inside. I did not mind. Many organics would sleep better with a locked door between them and a BX commando droid. Not that a locked door would stop me, but organics are reassured by many things that are not logical. On the other hand, Kay—much like her merqaal—seems to enjoy sleeping in a variety of locations throughout the ship. She also set up a power station for me in the bunk closest to hers so that I may lie down when charging. I have explained to her that this is not necessary as my physical body does not require rest. Nevertheless, the gesture is appreciated. I have never had a bed before.)
Nix emits a high-pitched squawk as my movements disturb him. Although I am still building my database of merqaal communications, I have enough data to interpret this as annoyance. I scratch beneath his feelers, and his purring returns. Kay sinks into the pilot's seat with a soft groan. Her head tips back against the cushion as if she is ready to fall asleep again. I think of the message at the top of our inbox.
"No job today," I say, coming to a decision. This is not exactly deception, as I had not yet accepted the contract. "It seems we have a day off."
Kay perks up visibly at this news, even if the size of her eyes indicates surprise. "A day off?"
"I assume you are familiar with the concept."
"Honestly, I'm surprised that you are."
"While I have never personally experienced a 'day off', I recognize the benefits. Rest and recuperation are vital to the optimal functioning of organics," I reply. My hand is still petting Nix. I had not noticed. Strange. "I would like you to continue functioning optimally."
Kay looks over at me with a smile. "You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl."
Ah. Banter. I have been preparing a subroutine for this.
"Plenty more where that came from," I say.
var banterResult = attemptBanter(input);
boolean success = false;
if (banterResult.equals("LAUGHTER")) {
success = true;
}
return success;Kay laughs. I determine that my attempt was successful and congratulate myself internally.
"A whole day off." She leans back, lifting her feet onto the console. (This does not seem like a safe course of action. I gently lift her boots away from the weapon controls and relocate them to an area that is less likely to cause catastrophic damage.) "What should we do?"
I tilt my head. This gesture is not strictly necessary, but it is one I have picked up over the years. It comes naturally now. "We?"
Kay sips her caf, and looks over the rim at me. "Yeah, of course," she says. "We're friends, right?"
(When I was with Jaylen, he often called me his friend. He called us a team. In all of our time together, he never invited me to participate in leisure activities. Consequently, I do not have a programmed response. I find myself unsure what to say.)
"Yes. We are."
Kay looks satisfied by this. She grins. Already I notice that she appears less fatigued.
"Ooh!" she exclaims. Her feet come off the console as she sits up in her chair. "How about we try that duradan soup place, down in Kijimiko Square? Every time Nix and I go by it smells so good."
It seems Kay has forgotten something important.
"I do not eat," I say.
"Oh, right." She appears visibly defeated, her shoulders slumping and her face falling. "Of course."
"But I would be happy to observe you while you eat," I offer helpfully. Kay does not seem to like this suggestion. Her nose wrinkles as she shakes her head emphatically.
We fall into pensive silence for a few minutes. Two minutes and 36 seconds, to be exact. In that time, I run hundreds of thousands of commands. None of them give me any clue as to how a human and a droid should spend their free time together. Perhaps this "day off" will be more difficult than I originally anticipated.
"How about the thermal district?" Kay suggests, breaking the silence. She rolls her left shoulder, wincing as she does. "I could use a good soak."
"Although I am generally waterproof—" I tap the open scar across my chest— "I do not think that the temperature and minerals of the water would be agree with my internal components."
Kay winces again, but this time it appears to be apologetic rather than pained. "Never mind then."
"In any case, droids are not permitted in the main bath house," I continue. "Though I believe there is an annex in the back that provides oil dips for droids."
"But I can't exactly join you for a hot oil bath." The smile Kay gives me is what one might describe as "wry". I am getting better at telling her smiles apart.
"I would strongly advise against it. Unless, of course, it is your life's ambition to be deep fried."
She lets out an undignified snort of laugher. Another successful banter attempt. I categorize my subroutine as an unqualified success.
"Too bad we're not somewhere warmer." She sighs and tugs her too-small jacket tighter around herself, which leads me to conclude that the ship's temperature is affecting her. "We could take out the speeder. Go for a ride."
(On Toshara, we often ride her speeder together. It is an activity I have come to look forward to, even if a CIS battle droid riding pillion draws strange looks from bystanders.)
(Kay has yet to allow me to drive.)
She looks at me thoughtfully. "What do you like to do, Endee?" she asks. "Like, what do you do when I'm gone all day?"
"I work, Kay," I reply flatly. I gesture to my station. "I order supplies, communicate with our contacts, find jobs and opportunities."
"Yeah, I know that. But, c'mon—" she leans across the center aisle of the cockpit and thunks her knuckles on the dome of my head. I interpret this as a playful gesture and not one of aggression. Kay is, after all, my friend— "you can't really expect me to believe all that computing power is taken up by holonet searches and a few calls."
She is correct. But I do not wish to reveal what I do with my spare processing power. I am worried she would find it strange.
"I… conduct research."
This seems to catch her interest. "Research? What about?"
"Organic behavior."
She nods slowly. "Uh huh. And how do you do that?"
I consider implementing deceptive speech. But Kay is important to me. More important, I think, than even she realizes. I do not wish to lie to her.
"I watch… holodramas."
A quick analysis of her facial expressions reveals unconcealed shock and amusement. For a thief, Kay has a very poor sabacc face. Or perhaps she simply does not try to hide things from me. Perhaps her honesty in a galaxy of dishonesty is what I value most about her.
"Holodramas?" Her face breaks out into a wide grin. "Like those cheesy, overacted shows that broadcast out of Coruscant?"
"Oh, and the unrealistic crime serials you enjoy are so much better?"
Kay rolls her eyes at my sarcastic jab. "All right, holodramas," she says, shifting to sit on the edge of her seat. "Can I watch with you?"
Her question causes a moment of surprise. This was not the response I had predicted. My processors whir to adapt.
"You... want to watch? Even though they are 'cheesy' and 'overacted'?"
"Sure." She shrugs a shoulder. "Sounds like fun!" She pushes herself out of the pilot's seat. "I'll go make the popped grains!"
I do not remind her that I cannot consume them. In these cases, I have found the Bespinian phrase "it's the thought that counts" to be highly applicable.
I stand and follow her to the common area. She busies herself in the galley and emits a soft humming sound as she sips her caf. While vaguely tuneful, I am unable to discern any logical melody in her noises. I make my way to the holoprojector table and tap at the controls.
"So what are we watching?" Kay calls over her shoulder as she works at the hotplate. My sensors pick up the soft pop of the grains in her pan.
"I currently have two dramas downloaded," I say. (I try to reduce the amount of storage space taken up by my viewing habits by limiting myself to a few holos at a time.) "Would you like to watch Space Port: Destiny or Droid Matchmaker?"
"Ooh, tough choice." Though her back is currently to me, the lift in her voice indicates that she is smiling. "What's Droid Matchmaker about?"
I access the synopsis in my memory files and read it out to her. "Droidsmith Salli Oombar is unlucky in love. Tired of bad first dates and getting stood up, she begins to confide her frustrations and desires for a partner to the inactive B1 battle droid she is repairing. Imagine her surprise when, upon booting up KT-907, the droid has an unexpected objective: finding Salli her perfect match. But when Kaytee identifies the quiet baker in the shop next door as 99.99% compatible, Salli will have to decide if she'll play it safe or if she'll risk it all to say "roger, roger" to love."
Kay snorts at the last line. "Yeah, let's watch that. Sounds funny."
I boot up the holo projector and access the first episode. As the opening song plays over a series of clips from the drama, I settle onto the acceleration couch. Kay joins me with a bowl of popped grains in one hand and a blanket in the other. As she sits down, she arranges the blanket over both of our laps even though I do not require it. I run my hand over the surface. My tactile receptors are not very good at recognizing textures—that level of sensitivity was not deemed necessary for a combat droid— but I believe that the fabric would be described as "fuzzy". It is… nice.
"Come on, Nix!" Kay calls to the merqaal, who is eating from his food bowl in the galley. His head lifts at the sound of her voice, and he rapidly approaches our location. He does not, however, go to Kay. Instead, he hops onto my lap, circling a few times before settling with a chirp.
"Traitor," Kay says with a derisive sniff.
"I think he shows good judgement," I reply.
Kay scoots closer to me on the couch and reaches for Nix. As she scratches the merqaal between his feelers, her body briefly touches my side.
"You're so warm, Endee!" she exclaims in surprise. She puts a hand on my chest plating to confirm it. "No wonder Nix chose you instead of me."
"Yes," I say. "My components are not 100% efficient. The resistance in the materials produces heat." I hesitate for what feels like an eternity. My internal chronometer indicates that only 2.6 seconds have passed. "If you would like, you may get closer to me. For warmth."
Kay does not require a second invitation. The next thing I know, she is burrowing into my duster. She drapes an arm across my torso and rests her cheek on my chest armor, just beside the light there. If I look down, I can see her face outlined by its red glow. She is careful to avoid the jagged edges of my scar as she fidgets for a moment, likely trying to find a comfortable position for her soft organic body against my hard alloys. She seems to find one, settling with a sigh. I have found that humans sigh for many reasons, but a quick audio analysis of the frequency and length determines with 97.76% confidence that this was a sound of contentment.
"So warm," she says, drawing out the vowels.
It seems Nix is not the only one who enjoys my resting core temperature.
(Jaylen and his contacts rarely touched me except when absolutely necessary. This makes sense, because I am a battle droid. Lorel was a notable exception, but she limited herself to friendly pats on the arm and a gesture known as a "fist bump". Kay is the first organic to hug me. Thus far, the experience is… interesting.)
"Kay," I say. "I have noticed that you and Nix seem to enjoy physical proximity to my person. Would you—" For some reason, my vocabulator hesitates on the words. I begin running a diagnostic and find no errors in my speech programming. "Would you like me to put my arm around your shoulders?"
Kay tips her head up to look at me. Judging by the increase in her visible eye size and the slight uptick in her heart rate, I think I have surprised her with my question. Blood flow increases to her cheeks, darkening their color: a peculiar reaction that I was not expecting.
"Uh, sure Endee." Her cheeks darken further. "I mean, if you want to. It's okay with me."
"I do not—"
I start to say that I do not "want" things, but that is not true. There are parts of my programming that provide me with goals and directions. There are objectives that I want to accomplish. Right now, I desire to provide my partner with reassuring physical contact in order to improve her general health. Then, at a deeper level, in a part of my code that is still growing and adapting and changing without the presence of Jaylen's restraining bolt, I realize that I also desire reassuring physical contact with her. There seems to be no logical reason for this. I make a note to run a more thorough diagnostic on the reasoning portion of my processor later.
"I want to," I say.
There is the soft click and whir of actuators as I lift my arm and set it carefully over her shoulders. The green fabric of my duster provides a soft barrier between the hard edges of my arm components and her body. I allow 40% of the total weight to rest atop her—I am very heavy. After a moment of deliberation, I curl the digits of my hand around her shoulder.
"Is this… acceptable?"
A small vocal glitch interrupts my words. For a reason I cannot identify, my speech efficiency has decreased by 14%. This is well outside of my normal margins of error. (I do not have a tongue, but the effect is what an organic might describe as being "tongue-tied".)
"Yeah, buddy." I feel her body settle. "It's actually kinda nice."
It occurs to me that with a mother like Riko, Kay likely has not experienced very much affectionate physical touch in her lifetime either. Perhaps this is why she enjoys my proximity, even if I am a droid. I pull her a little bit closer as the final strains of the opening song to Matchmaker Droid fade. The episode begins.
"Hm," Kay muses as we watch. "Girl with a bossy battle droid." She tilts her head back to look at me with a small smile. "Wonder what that's like?"
"A very prudent arrangement," I reply. "Though you may notice that Salli actually listens to her battle droid's advice."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
Now is the time to implement my deceptive speech. "Oh, nothing."
She just scoffs and settles back onto my chest. She is very light, nothing compared to the weight rating of my armored plating, but I find the pressure strangely comforting. I measure a 2% increase in my system efficiency.
"Wait, why would Candon be kissing that other girl?" Kay asks during our third episode of Droid Matchmaker. (This episode ends in what is known as a "dramatic cliffhanger." Salli, on her way to confess her interest in the baker Candon, seems instead to have observed him engaged with another organic. This causes Salli extreme emotional distress. The scene has a similar affect on Kay, who sounds outraged as she points at the image displayed on the holo projector.)
"It is a deception," I explain, accessing the portion of my memory that I have devoted expressly to tracking the convoluted storylines of holodramas. "That is Dunkan. He is the identical twin of Candon. He is evil."
Kay's shocked gasp is very satisfying.
"That sick son of a bantha!"
She insists on starting the next episode immediately. I am glad that she is enjoying it. I am enjoying it too, and not just because I get to watch my favorite show. Kay is a very entertaining viewing partner. I enjoy her reactions, especially when she boos and throws popped grains at the holo projector whenever Dunkan does something of dubious morality to thwart Salli and Candon's budding relationship. The grains, of course, have no affect on the story and pass harmlessly through the projected images. Nix, however, is enjoying the extra snacks.
We are 87% of the way through our sixth episode of Droid Matchmaker when my auditory sensors pick up a soft, snuffling sound. This is followed by a long drone from the vicinity of my chest plating. From the frequency, I determine that Kay is snoring. Interesting. She managed to stay awake much longer than I had predicted. In order to avoid disturbing her, I immediately send a stop command to my random movement program. (Jaylen once told me that many organics find my natural stillness "unnerving", so I created a sequence of commands to mimic the small, restless motions that I observed in others.) I am now perfectly stationary, actuators locked in place. Unlike an organic, I could remain in this position indefinitely with few ill effects. I do question, however, how comfortable Kay could possibly be with a titanium alloy pillow.
I boost my core heat by 2%.
It has begun snowing again outside. It decreases my ability to pick up ambient noise from the spaceport outside. Normally, I would be concerned that this makes us more vulnerable to ambush. Right now, however, I find the quiet peaceful. I tip my head back and watch the falling snow pile up upon the windscreen, swallowing up my last glimpse of the gray sky.
Matchmaker Droid is still playing in the background, but I do not commit the dialogue to my memory like I usually do. Instead, I reach over to pause the holoprojector. Kay would be disappointed to miss the story. She makes a soft sound in response to my movements, shifting a little in her sleep. A strand of brown hair falls over her face, and I very carefully reach around to tuck it behind her ear.
She smiles in her sleep.
This is my first day off. I decide that I like it.