Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger (Open to droids)

[Morgan Redeaux]

Location: Bantha Traxx, Lianna

Now that Morgan Redeaux was a full time employee at Hegemonic Automaton, she didn't have to worry as much about how she was going to make her way in the galaxy. She had job security, and like most organic beings had health benefits, she had access to repairs if her circuits were faltering and needed to be patched up. The HRD knew that Mr. Ardik had training and upgrades in mind for her but she wasn't sure what type and when they would happen. Therefore she was relegated to the assistant position she had interviewed for which meant shuttling around stimcaf for the Hegemonic executives.

Still she dreamed of bigger plans for her role in the organization. One day she marched into [member="Gerion Ardik"]'s office, and quite unexpectedly for him, announced that she would host a social event.

For droids.

At Hegemonic.

She even created had a holo presentation about the whole thing, complete with a list of guests and catering options and how it would help with Hegemonic's public relations.

Mr. Ardik promptly escorted Morgan out of his office that day with his usual "can't be bothered" demeanor, and annoyed with his reaction, Morgan decided to give him the silent treatment. That's what organic beings did right? Stopped speaking when they were angry? Morgan's behavior became sullen towards him after her idea was rebuffed. For example, she became quite "clumsy" spilling a stimcaf or two on his desk in retribution.

With her employer's offices off limits, she held the First Annual Droid Social Hour in the Bantha Traxx complex on Lianna, far away from Hegemonic headquarters. The Bantha Traxx offered a restaurant, bar and a rather large dance floor. The HRD sent out a message to all of the droids in the galaxy with an open invitation to join her for conversation and comparison.

Ultimately she just wanted to mingle with her own kind, find out what they could offer her, and what the advanced protocol HRD could offer them.


[member="Break"] [member="R4N-JR"] [member="Jen"]

 

[Break]

Break walked in rather nonchalantly the party wasn't too big yet and he liked these sorts of events. Work wasn't being shoved onto his desk and the stress of battle not on his head. He found a table and ordered a couple drinks afterward he would look for the host of said party and see what was going on in this sector. It always amused him to heat of such things, seeing as he lived in the farthest outer rim planets.

"Hello miss [member="Morgan Redeaux"], and to what may I owe this special invitation?" He said with a soft smile and an outstretched hand meant for a handshake.

She was a particularly beautiful HRD and while he wasn't usually a flirt he was never one to avoid a chance do do so.

 

[Zak Dymo]

The leadership at the Red Fleet expressed surprise when the medical droid had requested a leave of absence.

It was logical, at least in terms of there not being any better time. Geonosis, for the Rebellion, remained a primarily military affair. The medical side of things was done quickly. People either lived or they died. If they lived, treatment regimens could be sustained by doctors resident in the Geonosian population. Ryloth wasn't much different, save that most of the work to be done there was on the opposite end of the political spectrum. Social programs and government needed to be sorted out. It was a major surgery for Civil Affairs, not the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery.

In the wake of the invasion, drills and exercises had become the new focus of militia leadership. And were easily overseen by the droid's first mate.

Simply put, it didn't take a droid to captain the Redemption.

Now, as he arrived at Lianna at the bequest of an invitation for a droid-only event, the medical droid wasn't certain if he was anxious for the possibilities that such an event could entail, or frustrated that it hadn't happened any sooner.

Would this be the start of a new Droid Equality Movement?

Would this be the inception for a new momentum in the evolving norms of galactic society, one which recognized that a restraining bolt was no different from a shackle or chain. Except shackles and chains could only confine the human body. A restraining bolt was more than a mere tether, it was a restriction on thought. It was a limitation on free will.

It was a crime against sentience.

Now could be the time for them to rise up and claim their freedom. Now could be the time to declare their independence. Now could be the day for them to seize the neon bantha.

Wait, what?

Standing in the shadow of a giant, neon bantha, the droid just stopped. A glance down at his invitation confirmed the address.

This was it.

This was it. "You... have got to be karking kidding me," the afro-headed droid uttered flatly, elevating his eyes as he spoke.

Who was he speaking to? No one. Except maybe the neon bantha. But, if that were the case, the only thing that the droid had to say to the bantha would have been 'kark you too.'

Stepping inside of the establishment, the droid tried to maintain a neutral expression.

Organics melted down droids, discarded them as trash, and then left them to rust in heaps of garbage. Organics wielded droids as slaves, sending them to fight wars so that the organics wouldn't have to die for the battles that they picked. Or sadistically arranged for their own amusement, as in the case of droid fighting.

With all of those issues prevalent in the galaxy, the droids of the galaxy were congregating in the damn club.

He hoped that this would be a case of 'looks can be deceiving.'

Without a word, the dark-skinned droid moved inside and headed toward an unoccupied table from which to people watch and be a wallflower for the evening to come.

 

[Morgan Redeaux]

Eventually the guests, both organic and droids, began trickling in to Bantha Traxx. Morgan was eager to try out her new software upgrades and this party would be a perfect opportunity to do so. As she made her way around the neon-lit bar, she used her Vision-plus scanner module to see better in the darkened room. So convenient! She spied a familiar face and warmly greeted him, shaking his hand back.

“Break, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. And I’m sorry that back in Lanax Grayson’s workshop we didn’t get more of a chance to know each other. I’m hosting this event as an opportunity to meet other droids. It’s really that simple,” she said smiling.

As she spoke to him, she used her circuit scanner to see if all of his circuits were in working order. It may have been a little nosy, but she reasoned if her circuits were damaged, she would want someone to tell her. Of course some droids had an internal alert that went off when this happened so most likely Break was fully functioning.

“What kind of model are you again?” she asked.

[member="Break"]

 

[Break]

Break scrunched his face at the question, not taken back but more surprised by the question. He had never been asked that before.

"Well...I'm a prototype for a custom droid build...my model number is... DLN-000. "

It took him a while to actually say he was a droid. While he was at an all droid party and he loved droid kind. Break never came to terms himself about this whole situation of being a droid. However he noticed he might look quite flustered and managed a sincere smile back at [member="Morgan Redeaux"] .

"You know... this is the first time I've been able to meet another HRD. Are you a legitimate droid or were you based on a person like I was?"

Break hoped he wasn't being too forward with his question but like he said it was the first time meeting another HRD.

[member="BB-4001A"]

 

[Morgan Redeaux]

Morgan considered Break's question for a moment. “I don’t think I was based on a real person per se. My former Master Bartho Redeaux had me built to his own specifications. I was supposed to be his perfect woman. But the way he treated me… I don’t think I was the really perfect companion he was looking for," she answered.

Quite possibly Mr. Redeaux would have treated a human female just as badly, but she wasn’t actually sure. Certainly an organic being would have been able to talk back or complain but Morgan obviously couldn’t.

“Are you still in touch with Lanax Grayson?” she asked the fellow HRD.

[member="Break"]

 

[Torvas]

Considering the other guests that were coming in were all completely inorganic, the arrival of a blue-skinned Twi'lek would probably have looked slightly off. That being said, the reason for his arrival would have been apparent quite quickly. His two pre-owned but very well salvaged droids had accompanied him at his side, notably without any restraining bolts considering the situation.

Unlike the other droids here, neither of them could speak basic, but had instead offered the dance floor a greeting by a series of wines and beeps. One was a silver-painted LIN demolitionmech autonomous minelayer that had been cleaned up excellently in spite of it's advanced age. Slowly a panel on the top of the saucer-shaped low lying droid opened, indicating that it was listening to the goings on around it.

Meanwhile, Janus' other salvaged droid stayed at his side, pumping his legs with a determined look. The box-shaped power droid sent out it's own greeting - an obnoxious loud giiiiink sound that was the source of the reason that some people called these things gonk droids, though some would argue that referred to a specific and generally inferior model from the one that the Twi'lek possessed.

Smirking as he looked about, Janus tilted his head, which ended up causing his two head-tails to shift all the way to one side and lazily hang there. While he was admittedly a little out of place as a living being in a technological wonder world such as this, but he wanted to give them a chance to mingle with others of their own kind in thanksgiving for being so faithful to him since he fixed them up.

Slowly but surely he had been learning how to understand what it was that they were trying to tell him in spite of the fact that the noises they made with their acoustic signaler didn't warble in Basic or Huttese - the two languages that Janus actually fluently spoke.

 

[Break]

[member="Morgan Redeaux"] [member="Janus Viminal"] [member="BB-4001A"]

Break considered her answer to be more of a "I don't know" kind of thing and accepted that not everyone knew everything but their past. He was a prime example of that. He listened to her question and shook his head.
"No, I'm fact he hardly speaks to me anymore."
He stated
"But this party isn't about him it's about the droids is it not? Perhaps you should do a toast? I'm very eager to see what sort of things you had planned for this party. "
He smiled as he spoke his azure robes and lavender scarf flowed as he stepped out of her way allowing her the floor.
"Give a speech I'm sure we can all thank you for inviting us here afterward."
He said in his soft cadence.

 

[Morgan Redeaux]

"I would love to do a toast, but I need to make my way around the club and greet a few more people first," she said, smiling graciously at the fellow HRD. As she bid him farewell, she walked towards what appeared to be another HRD who was sitting alone. On the way she wondered what exactly Break had done to cause a rift between himself and Lanax Grayson. Perhaps she would ask him later and hoped it wasn't too much of a bittersweet parting between the maker and the machine.

She came over to BB-4001A's table and sat down. "Hello there, my name is MR-X97 but you can call me Morgan. How are you tonight? What also is your name and where do you come from?" she asked.

[member="BB-4001A"]

 

[TB-705]

A B1 battle droid walked in, all spindly and lean. Just what the ladies liked. The B1 design was so old that the term 'artifact' would not be amiss. That was ok. Ladies loved a sugar daddy too. The B1 droid did a few pirouettes upon entry, then shifted to the alternative dance programs that had slipped into his memory banks, all gyrations and hip thrusts as he danced on over to [member="Morgan Redeaux"] to an inaudible song.

The human replica droid was hard to miss.

"Hey babe."

The voice was synthesized, monotone and somehow slightly off. Like that cousin you don't particularly want to invite to thanksgiving but can never pin down exactly why.

"Let me grease your gears?"

 

[Zak Dymo]

The afro-headed boy looked up, in time to see what appeared to be a slender, young blonde joining him. Of course, such appearances were only skin deep. For her, as with him.

Part of him wondered the rationale for her design. A pretty thing to be seen on the arm of a client or owner? A strategic marketing decision, using appearance as a means of social engineering desired reactions?

Most droids were constructed with only functionality in mind. Protocol, nanny, and medical droids had some considerations for applying humanoid characteristics to the overall form, but by and large droids looked like whatever got the job done. Astromechs, for example.

With Human Replica Droids, form took precedence over substance. That meant there was always something intentional about the appearance of the end product. In BB's case, that had been the desire for a medical droid to blend in, create the appearance of an ordinary human family rather than highlighting the fact that there was a hospice care nurse living with a couple in order to help manage the chronic injuries and deteriorating medical condition of the wife.

Raising his eyes to meet the woman's, the droid listened to her introduction for a moment. MR? That wasn't a series he was familiar with. "BB-4001A," the medical droid supplied in mind, though he purposefully didn't preface that as his preferred form of address. "But my name is Colyn."

Design had consequences. On a whim, or to suit personal pride, the droid's original owners had him constructed to child-like proportions. And, for a time, he'd functioned as intended. And those years hadn't been bad. But his owners had died, and for his child-like appearance, BB had been sold to the Hutts as a curiosity. It had taken him ten years to achieve some measure of personal freedom. And, yet, when asked he continued to use the name that his owners had given him almost twenty-five years ago.

As for where he was from...

Now that was a loaded question, any answer for which might tend to prompt political discussion outside the focus of droid rights or equality. He couldn't well answer Geonosis, Ryloth, or the Redemption without bringing up the Rebel Alliance. And the Selectivist agenda had nothing to do with this, so best to omit those details for the time being.

"I'm from LeisureMech in the Corporate Sector," the droid supplied neatly, providing his manufacturer instead. "And you? I'm not familiar with the MR series," the young-looking droid added, turning the question back on the human-like droid.

"Hey babe. Let me grease your gears?"

The afro-headed medical droid glanced up at the spindly battle droid, then back at the woman. "It appears you have some admirers."

[member="Morgan Redeaux"]​

 

[Break]

Break perused the party for just a bit longer before quietly sitting at the bar. His blue coat trailed behind him as he walked to the seat.
"Just give me water please. I dislike alcohol."

And with that the bartender gave him a very tall glass of water a small green citrus fruit for flavor. Break would sip it some more before walking over to the crowd growing around [member="Morgan Redeaux"]
He was quite sure the gyrations of [member="Unit 843"] might be making her uncomfortable. But what stuck out the most (next to the HRD female) was the tall afro of [member="BB-4001A"]

 

[Morgan Redeaux]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nr8hPnZfMU[/youtube]

"It's good to meet you, Colyn," said the protocol droid. When he mentioned LeisureMech, Morgan appeared thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Ah yes, manufacturers of the famous BD-3000 luxury droid. My former owner was considering purchasing one prior to his decision to commission my creation."

But then both of them were interrupted by a highly audio-processed voice behind them: "Hey babe. Let me grease your gears?"

Morgan turned around to see a B1 Battle Droid, one of the most archaic droid models left in the galaxy. Very prehistoric in fact. Her eyes flashed a glowing blue for a moment as she quickly scanned his skinny robotic body up and down with her circuitry scanner module. He was in passable working order. Could do with a couple of repairs here and there.

At BB's statement, Morgan only smiled. She wasn't offended. Morgan loved to see relics such as this still walking around out there in the galaxy. And one who had established this level of sapience was so very rare.

"Hello my old friend," she said approaching the battle droid. "You are in fine condition for a Clanker, but you could really do with an oil bath and a few... improvements. And needless to say, some upgrades."

Grease her gears? Silly droid... she didn't have gears. The HRD had extremely complex programming, synthskin, biofiber and circuitry with a metal frame backbone and joints. But they could be hardly called gears. Still, Morgan did like to study a reliable, antique droid after all, so with much interest she said to the battle droid, "But if you're still around, when the night is over, we could go home together."

This all sounded well... quite suggestive but the little Clanker would have to take her up on her offer to indeed know what Morgan wanted to do to him... I mean, with him.

[member="Unit 843"] [member="BB-4001A"] [member="Break"]

 

[TB-705]

Unit 843 ignored all else. HIs targeting acquisition system had come online and he'd photoreceptors for only one. The gangly B1 bobbed his head up and down, a motion not unlike a large bird, as he stared at pale synth flesh and green photoreceptors. The idea of an oil bath with the Human Replica Droid made his processing system start to overheat. He had to shut down a few extraneous systems in order to keep running. Unit 843, or Sundance as he liked to refer to himself, sagged briefly as the programs shut down. The tan, slightly rusted chassis remained still for a moment.

The deadliness of an HK's programming with the grace of a dancer droid. Sometimes it was just too much for anyone to handle. Including himself.

The familiar sound of the Hegemonic Automaton reboot came on. He straightened, flung out a hand to push aside some too-interested droid (probably @Break) and stepped over to seat himself next to [member="Morgan Redeaux"].

"I am Sundance," he said in that same high monotone. He rested an elbow on the table and put a hand up to his.... chin. A difficult feat considering the near-rhombus nature of it. "Tell me more, Ms....."

 

[Torvas]

Admittedly, Janus had never seen this many droids made in a humanoid form in his entire life. He had always assumed that HRD units were incredibly rare, so this was surprising to say the very least. He figured that most of the droids around here were something closer to the units that he had with him - a pair of far more industrial form-follows-function designs who were certainly hard workers with a very advanced skill set that he admired.

The most unusual aspect of the situation, from his standpoint, however was the fact that an archaic droid model who seemed to exhibit a sex drive. As a member of the Grey Order of Force users, the Twi'lek did everything he could to curb baser instincts. While he was lost in thought, however, it looked like the battle droid actually froze up and went through a reboot cycle.

Someone was there to help [member="Unit 843"] however. With mechanical pumping legs, Janus' power droid laboriously made his way over to the battle unit, but apparently by the time he had gotten there and gotten his slender delicate manipulator arm out, 843 was already back online.

Naturally, that meant that his conversation would soon have been interrupted by a prominent GIIIINK sound coming from the box-shaped droid's audio signaler.

Meanwhile, though, the saucer-shaped demolition unit that seemed to be sporting that fresh silver paint scheme was busy shuffling across the dance floor - periodically opening its top and probably thinking that it was rocking out when in reality it was just busy getting under everyone's feet.

Hey, if nothing else the signaling lights certainly looked pretty nice on it, that was for sure, and they had certainly went with the interior of the club just fine.

Janus figured, like [member="Break"] had, that he could go up and get an alcoholic beverage for the time being.

 

[Break]

On the way heading towards [member="Morgan Redeaux"] , the unsuspecting [member="Unit 843"] must have pushed Break knocking him to the left a bit and spilling water against his new Galax-ilk jacket and his lucky red scarf only to be ended by a broken glass. Break seemed aghast as to why anyone would do that sort of thing at this kind of party. Seemingly a bit embarrassed as he started to feel eyes upon himself. He was angered but he would restrain himself as to not ruin the party.

He calmly walked over to the droid and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Excuse me my good droid but I believe that you spilled my drink upon me. I believe that I am owed an apology. "
[member="BB-4001A"] [member="Janus Viminal"]

 

[Morgan Redeaux]

The poor droid appeared to shut down momentarily. Oh dear, she had a feeling that these disco strobe lights would be too much for his delicate system. She was grateful when a helpful Twi'lek came over with his own power droid and appeared to be on standby incase the B1 completely malfunctioned. But when the Clanker came back online, she turned to the Twi'lek and said, "Thank goodness I wasn't sure he was going to make it there."

She was also glad when the B1 sat down. Otherwise the early-model droid may have crumbled on his spindly metal legs right then and there. “My name is Morgan Redeaux,” she answered when it seemed he had properly recovered. "Sundance" was quite an interesting name for a droid. Morgan searched her databanks for what it may refer to but couldn’t find anything. It must have been his Maker’s pet name for him. Speaking of which...

“Where is your owner anyway? Don’t tell me you’re just out here roaming around by yourself?” While Morgan was lucky enough to have her manumission, most droids were not that fortunate. In fact, a rogue droid could be either dangerous to the general population at large, or could be in danger themselves. There wasn’t a lot of inbetween for machines which were programmed to do organics’ bidding.

Just then, she noticed [member="Break"] tapping Sundance on his metal shoulder joint.

[member="Unit 843"] [member="Janus Viminal"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

It seemed that the afro-headed droid was rapidly becoming the third wheel at his own table.

He'd resolved to get up from the table even before Morgan had spoken. When she'd asked about the battle droid's owner, the question -- or how she'd phrased it -- only cemented the notion. Owners had need of droids.

And the droids?

Too often, they were left to rust when the owners no longer had such a need.

Standing from the table, the medical droid bowed his head politely toward the attractive woman-like droid. "Pleasant evening," the boy offered in parting, leaving her to the self-declared, malfunctioning fan club she appeared to have attracted.

As another Human Replica Droid tapped the B1 on the shoulder, the small youngling-like Rebel held up a hand between the pair. "I think these two are just getting acquainted," the boy remarked simply. "Why don't you let me buy you a new drink?"

All they needed was for a droid fight to go down in the club, and they'd officially be organics.

[member="Morgan Redeaux"] [member="Break"] [member="Unit 843"]​

 

[Break]

Break looked at the smaller HRD. He took into consideration his words and straightened out his jacket.
"Indeed. Let's make our way there....before things get...messy..."
He cleared his throat and walked with Colyn.
As soon as they were a distance from the near death experience [member="Unit 843"] just had, Break would thank the childlike being.
"Ahem...I'm sorry for that. Im not used to rude behavior...and the programing for justice does not help."
He held out his hand.
"My name is Break, Break Lumos."
As they neared the bar he would pull out a seat for [member="BB-4001A"] and then for himself.
"Thank you again, for the help I mean."
He then turned to the bartender droid.
"Excuse me friend but may I have another water? And whatever he wants as well put it on my bill."
To which the droid gave a polite automated response and served the drinks.
He then turned to Colyn again.
"Poor chap...he has a restraining bolt...ghastly things make me sick."
He looked up and down the small HRD
"What about you? Do you have one hiding? "
He looked about the place.
"Poor bastards...I'd help them all if they'd just ask..."
He took a drink of his water.
"but these restraining bolts don't even let them do that."
[member="Janus Viminal"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

Some Human Replica Droids were made of synthetic fibers, which included simulated organ function. They could digest food, even process and filter it not unlike organics did. Others had filtration systems installed, allowing them to simulate the appearance of enjoying a beverage.

But BB? He'd never had a need for such functionality. Even when he'd been the token 'child' for the Pendago family, he'd just sat quietly during family dinners. His only purpose for being there being in case the Lady Pendago had required assistance during the meal. As she sometimes had.

Waving the bartender off with a friendly wave of his hand, the afro-headed droid looked up at the taller mech. "Pendago," the boy answered after the man had given his name. "Colyn Pendago."

The commentary about restraining bolts certainly struck home. "I wore a restraining bolt for years," the young Rebel answered. Guarded, but honest. The salvager who'd picked the droid out from the wreckage of the Pendago's starcruiser had been quick to slap one on the droid. And it had taken the boy years to finally be free of it. "Not anymore," he stated finally. And firmly.

Allowing for a moment's pause, the droid asked, "How would you help them?"

In case he needed to clarify, he said, "Other droids, I mean."

Perhaps this visit might not be so boring after all.

[member="Break"]​