Featherhead - pt. 3

The U-wing began it’s ascent back into open space, and Maedune called the medical report into the *Intrepid*. One Marine was in cardiac arrest. The auto-surgeon droid had spidered down from the roof of the main cabin and was trying to sustain life, but there’d been too much blood loss. He asked for a trauma team to be waiting on the pad.

“Metal head saved some lives,” Maedune said. K-3P9 swiveled it’s head and studied the Zelosian pilot in that way that droids do. Like a child, without guile. Without an agenda. Just… Watching.

“Why do you call me metal head?” said the droid.

Maedune shrugged. “They call me a featherhead.”

“But I am not made of metal,” replied the droid. “I am primarily composed of hyper-forged ceramic, plastoid composite, and nano-graphene, none of which is a derivative of metallic alloys.”

“Why am I even talking to you?” Maedune muttered to himself. The thing was just a droid. A thing. A servant, at best. If it broke, who cared? You just tossed it into the scrap heap and went on with your life. No one ever grieved over a broken appliance, and Maedune was tired of grieving all together.

“We are having a conversation, Captain,” said the droid, “So that I might understand you, and thus, improve our working relationship. This will increase mission success indicators,”

“That’s not a conversation,” Maedune said, “That’s just you using your learning protocols to better assist me. It’s little more than a menu driven function inside your root. Given time and talent, anyone could rewrite that and make you do all kinds of things. A conversation is between two living beings. You and me? We’re just exchanging information, and I don’t even know why I’m doing that.”

“A conversation is an exchange of information,” the droid replied. Maedune made a face. A pained, sour face. Someone was dying, back in the rear cargo deck.

One of the marines was screaming at Rhoro, saying, “Ringo’s gonna die if we don’t get going. Tell your pilot to speed it up.” The marine spoke in that deep voice of authority that a drill sergeant would take, but it seemed Ringo was dying anyway, no matter how well or how fast Maedune flew. Just like Delste. Just like all the others.

Maedune ignored the rear compartment and focused on the cockpit. Maedune spoke again, “You have no soul, K-3P9. You went out there during the fight because your programming told you to, regardless of the harm you might encounter. You did that because you’re a tool, K-3P9. Just a droid. You don’t really care if these men live or die. You just care about the numbers they represent. They’re just calculations in the math of war. That’s why I call you metal head.”

K-3P9 stared out the front canopy. At that time, the U-wing began to break through the cloud cover, the sky opening up from grey to baby blue.

“You’re probably right,” replied the droid, tonelessly. “I was trying to save those marines so we could leave sooner. I think you were intending to wait for them, and the odds of us taking a direct hit from the indirect fire we were experiencing were increasing significantly. I do have self-preservation subroutines that govern all of my actions. They were installed after my first refit. It helps make the KX-series less… Homicidal is the term we’re not supposed to use. So you are wrong, Captain. I was acutely aware, given the sustained amount of fire, or the employment of an anti-armor weapon, which the Imperials were likely equipped with, I would suffer a fatal loss of runtime.”

Maedune sighed, shut his mouth, and returned his focus to the skies. Soon the U-wing broke the atmosphere, and the only thing on the other side of the cockpit was an inky black vacuum. The flight path took the U-wing close to the small flotilla of *Dreadnaughts*. Maedune flipped a switch, activating the U-wing’s electronic warfare package, causing the dropship to be practically invisible to all sensors in the area. Now, the only thing that could spot the dropship was the old fashioned Mk1 Eyeball.

Along the starboard side of the ship, the *Dreadnaughts* loomed. They were far enough out that they didn’t pose an immediate threat, though Maedune knew his bird was in range of the *Dreadnaughts* complement of *Preybird* snubfighters. That nagging thought returned to Maedune, which he would later yell at himself for. Why *Preybirds*? *Dreadnaughts*? Even on the ground, there were no reports of Imperial Stormtroopers or heavy armor to speak of. Just skirmishes in the jungle with regular Imperial Army troopers.

“What’s their goal here?” Maedune wondered. Just as the thought occurred to him, however, K-3P9 spoke up. “Captain. There appears to be a lone *Preybird*-class starfighter flying in close proximity to our dropship. Due to the Direction, Range and Distance sensors being disabled as a result of the on-board electronic warfare suite, an accurate location for the starfighter cannot be projected. I have downloaded the starfighter’s specifications to your--”

Maedune tuned the droid out. He searched the skies above him, finding it quickly. Almost as if it were flying escort for the U-wing, the single snubfighter was positioned above and to the port side. As he saw it, Maedune flipped the safety off of the main blaster cannons. It was clear to him that the lone starfighter pilot was attempting to request instructions, without much success. Unluckily for the fighter, the U-wing’s electronic warfare package was doing its job.

Suddenly, the snubfighter banked hard to starboard, right into Maedune’s kill slot. “Rookie move,” thought Maedune. The starfighter was trying to return to the *Dreadnaughts*. Maedune didn’t hesitate. His thumbs slammed onto the fire buttons, causing red blaster bolts to fly out from the dropship and strike the Preybird’s cockpit. A short, violent explosion marked the end of the fighter, causing what remained of the snubfighter’s chassis to bank and roll into an unusual flight path. The U-wing’s deflector shield was pelted with small bits of debris as it flew straight through the fiery remnants of the snubfighter.

“Didn’t even have his deflector shield activated,” thought Maedune. The droid stared blankly out of the cockpit. Maedune could tell it wanted to say something, probably about how they had not asked permission to open fire, but it didn’t. It simply stared. They flew on, with no other confrontations to speak of for the remainder of the journey back to the Intrepid.