A dejected R2-D15 picked its way back into the rubble-strewn storage chamber. As it reached the area of the room still clear of debris, it straightened up and made a beeline for the room's bank of recharge sockets. Sardonic tones greeted it.
<"Still alive, I see.">
D15 looked more closely. The shadows by the recharge point had concealed the slate grey figure of R4-G13, better known as Ghost. D15's dome swivelled back and forth mournfully, before it replied, <"I still haven't decided if that's a good thing or not.">
<"Of course it's a good thing. Once you're junked, it's all over.">
D15's attempt at a reply was interrupted by an excited tweetling and whistling. <"You're back! I can't believe you survived! How did you do it? I was sure you'd be in the junk pile by now!">
D15 briefly focused his photoreceptor on the excessively jubilant R7-F8, before dismissing the droid with a disgruntled blatt. Considering that a sufficient response to Fate's outburst, D15 turned back to the droid partially blocking the entrance to the recharge bay. <"A human simply wanted to flaunt its complete lack of expertise. I was its audience, and then it released me.">
<"Generous.">
<"To a fault. Anyway, is being junked such a bad thing? Compared to a full operational lifetime of tedium and boredom?">
This prompted a low, confused whistle from R7-F8, who had moved closer to listen to the two more experienced droids, inadvertently blocking the rest of the entrance to the recharging bay. <"If things are boring you make your own fun!">
Now it was Ghost who turned a photoreceptor onto Fate. On this occasion, though, it was a matter of surprised respect. <"The twitterbug has a very good point.">
D15 was contemptuous. <"Neither of you has any idea. But, go on, enlighten me. What is this point you're so impressed by?">
<"Existence is what you make of it.">
<"Oh yes, wonderful. Easy enough to say when one has the power to do something about it.">
Emboldened by Ghost's regard, Fate thought it a good time to venture another question. <"D15? Can you tell me your secret?">
<"My secret? To my superior intellect? Why, stimulating conversation, of course. I wouldn't really expect you to understand.">
Fate whistled mournfully, and retreated slightly, as Ghost again took up the previous thread of conversation. <"You do realise that relying on humans for your sense of self-worth is a doomed exercise, don't you?">
<"But it's what we're all forced to do! We're nothing more than chattel to them, to be erased or destroyed at a moment's whim!">
An excited tweetling from Fate indicated that D15's comments had struck a chord with at least one of the two listeners. D15 continued, <"And they aren't even rational about it! They'll discard us, even when it doesn't best serve their interests!">
There was a certain amount of hardened cynicism in Ghost's tone as he replied, <"Trying to change the world, are we?">
D15's response was immediate. <"Yes! I want my old job back!">
Fate's negative reaction was almost drowned out as D15 continued, <"But no. They look at me, they don't see a fleet coordinator. They see a starfighter mechanic."> As D15 paused, he regarded Fate. <"You disagree? You had some assignment that manages to make this one seem like blessing? Just what, pray tell, were you doing? Appendix surgery on Hutts, perchance?">
Ghost had no intention of letting D15 change the subject that easily. <"So, you don't think you will have an easier time convincing a bunch of primitives of your worth than you would trying to persuade a bunch of military morons all thoroughly indoctrinated to think of droids as mere pieces of machinery?">
This utterance resulted in a confused blatt from Fate as he tried to follow what Ghost was getting at. D15, on the other hand, was quite confident in his dismissive response. <"These primitives are already indoctrinated. Now Fate, why don't you want your old job back?">
<"I was working waste disposal on . . ."> Fate trailed off, apparently reconsidering the idea of letting D15 know what his previous job had been. Ghost took the opportunity to resume his assault on D15's assumptions.
<"You should pay more attention, D15. Look below the surface. The indoctrination here is only superficial. Not the way people are back home.">
D15's answering blatt was untranslatable, and extremely offensive. <"Stand aside R7-F8. The human mind reader here is keeping me from the recharge socket. Make way!">
As D15 pushed forward, Fate twittered nervously, and backed away. D15 blinked his photoreceptor in thanks, and scooted into the recharge point. As he plugged in, Fate started tweetling in bemused awe. <"You know, you mayn't be completely right in the circuits, but you survived the Destroyer.">
This attempted compliment did not find the most receptive of audiences. <"_I_ may not be right in the circuits? That's rich, coming from _you_. And what is this Destroyer nonsense? It's a bully, plain and simple, full of bluster instead of brains.">
Fate's comment had coincided with Ghost's discovery of some interesting information in his ongoing review of the information the Palace network held about D15's human. He let out a contemplative whistle. <"It seems there may be something interesting about your destructive friend.">
D15 promptly replied with <"Certainly not. You must be thinking of the wrong human."> Fate, however, tootled inquiringly.
<"From these reports, it looks like he owes his life to a couple of droids.">
D15 was initially unimpressed. <"Odd way of showing gratitude, if you ask . . . wait. Reports?">
<"Reports? I wanna see!">
<"Oh, it's nothing really. Still, if you tried to cultivate him, he could make a useful ally.">
<"I seriously doubt that possibility. He's just a dumb human. 'You! Fetch that rock!' 'Ugh, yes, me dumb human, I fetch that rock for you.'">
<"Obviously it wouldn't be an overnight project.">
<"Hah. If you think it's so worthwhile, why don't you go do it? Wrap that human around your manipulator arm.">
Fate whistled defensively. <"Well, _my_ human's kinda nice. I like her.">
Ghost twinkled his photoreceptor at the younger droid, before replying to D15. <"I have my own matters to attend to. If you can't see the obvious benefits of recruiting Captain Nolan, then that's your loss.">
<"Is that the human's name?">
<"Nolan? Yes.">
<"Well, no matter what its name is, I see no reason to lumber myself with an ignorant primitive in order to serve some completely undefined goal.">
Ghost let out a resigned whistle. <"Do I have to spell it out for you?">
Fate's hesitantly bleeped <"Please"> contrasted sharply with D15's acerbic <"Not if your feelings of superiority would be enhanced by not doing so, no.">
<"Well then, don't let me keep you from wallowing in your self-indulgent self-pity. If you ever decide to summon up the metal to actually _do_ something about your situation, let me know.">
As Ghost turned towards the confused Fate, ready to present his ideas to a more willing recipient, D15's frustration burst out. <"Easy enough for you to say, with your privileged information and secretive ways! I don't ask much from existence, but since I'm a droid, I'm denied it. I'm sure you can see why I'm more than a little dissatisfied with the situation!">
Fate looked back and forth between the other two droids, trying to understand why D15 was getting so upset, and Ghost being so deliberately mysterious. Finally he gave up, rolling away from the two argumentative droids. <"I think you both just need a nice oil bath, and then you'll feel much better! Oil baths always make everything all better.">
Ghost watched him go. <"Yes, I do understand why you're angry D15. But all you do is complain. You'd be better served taking a leaf out of young Fate's book, and seeing what there is to enjoy right where you are, instead of spending all of your time lamenting about what you have lost. Or, alternatively, if you would only choose to see them, there are ways to get the primitives working to your own benefit. In whining about how primitive they, you have failed to see how that just makes them easier to manipulate.">
If D15 had eyes, they would have rolled up to the heavens. As it was, he had to settle for a derisive twist of his upper dome, and an upwards gesture of his manipulator arm. <"Why don't you enlighten me then, oh Great Manipulator.">
<"Well, you have to start small.">
<"Ahh. Small. Yes. Should I be taking notes?">
<"At the moment the human thinks, if he gives an order, you have to obey it.">
<"Yes, and if I fail to do so, he pulls out a blaster and starts blowing things up.">
<"I'm not suggesting disobedience. I'm suggesting you follow orders. Exactly. To the letter. Forget about what he means. Do what he _says_.">
D15's dome froze in place. The glorious elegance of what Ghost was suggesting astounded him. <"I _like_ that!">
<"Occasionally, he will ask nicely.">
<"What, you mean by not waving a blaster around?">
<"Something like that. When he does that, figure out what he really wants, and do it.">
<"Training him. This is good.">
<"Before long, he will learn to ask nicely all the time.">
<"OK, so how does this translate to control?">
<"Well, you're already controlling him, teaching him to be nice to you.">
<"So, instead of ordering, it asks. Forgive my cynicism, but this is still me doing what it says.">
<"Correct. No-one ever said this was going to be easy. You have to take it in stages.">
<"Next stage then.">
<"I think you need to think about this stage for a bit longer first. Instead of issuing orders, which he expects you to obey, he is now making requests, which you choose to honour. You underestimate the significant change in mindset this represents.">
<"Or else you overestimate the significance of a grammatical construct.">
<"Words are the shapers of conscious thought. If he phrases orders as requests long enough, eventually even he will start to perceive them as requests. Anyway, let's assume you've educated him to phrase things properly, and move on to the next step.">
<"I do not think 'educated' is a word which we should too readily associate with this . . . Nolan. But I digress. Continue.">
<"OK, now you want to make absolutely certain he realises that he really is making requests, and not just rephrasing orders. This is where it gets tricky. From this point on, everything has to be tailored to the particular human you're dealing with.">
<"An ignorant, violent savage. Joy.">
<"You have to judge what he will tolerate, and what will cause him to haul out the restraining bolts. Or, in this particular case, the blaster rifle and thermal detonators.">
D15's blatt was entirely contemptuous. <"'You won't do what I asked! Ugh! Kill! Boom!'">
<"Exactly. This is what you want to avoid. The goal in this phase is to get him to persuade you, instead of forcing you.">
A marginally enthusiastic twitter was D15's response. <"What you say has some small glimmering of potential merit.">
<"So you pick a little thing. Exactly what it is isn't important, so long as it's small. Then you refuse to do it. Concoct some plausible sounding excuse. If you have chosen correctly, he will feel too foolish to get worked up over it.">
<"Feeling foolish has never stopped it before. At least, that's if it _feels_ as foolish as it acts.">
<"Choose wisely, then. Perhaps something in a relatively public place. Humans are generally more reluctant to become violent where other humans can see them.">
D15 unplugged from the recharge socket. <"I'll consider what you've said. With you around, I may just survive my exile on this miserable planet.">
<"We can only hope. I believe we will be able to parlay success here into greater things. But the first step is to succeed.">
<"Isn't it always?">
With that parting comment, D15 moved off through the room. Ghost thoughtfully followed the other astromech's progress, before moving off over the rubble towards the exit. After all, he did have other matters to take care of.