C1P1 - "Roger, Roger"

Providence-Class Carrier-Destroyer, Golden Opportunity​

C-Level Prison Section​

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After my self-forced shutdown, I had been taken to maintenance by a pair of other B1s who had found me. The ship's engineer couldn't find anything wrong with me, but fitted me with a restraining bolt and a new logic core because 'the older model's cores make them shut down too'.​

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So after a quick reboot and a mild freakout, I was sent to continue my duties as usual. In this case, it was to watch and feed the prisoners being held in C-Level.​

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I couldn't help but mentally wince from the loud 'clacking' noise from my metal feet making contact with the metal floor, but the endless repetitions soothed that headache and I went about my business, trying to ignore everything but the task before me with singleminded intensity. Anything to ignore the lack of feeling, the fact I didn't have any real biological.​

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The door bisected and opened as I approached. Almost immediately, I was besieged by a cacophony of voices as I entered. Two dozen and one cells made of durasteel walls lined the sides from left, center, and right, with nothing but myself to face them. Along with a cart full of nutrient paste.​

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"You're late! Feeding time was almost an hour ago! What gives you stupid clanker," said a bald young man angrily, poking his face into the small window of his door's cell. He raised a hand and gave me a rude gesture. I stopped and stared at him, tilting my head slightly.​

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"What? Never seen a clone soldier before?" Jeered the man, "Come closer and-"​

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"Stop hogging its attention span, Stone! At this rate, we'll all starve to death!" Said another voice, gruffer and much more commanding. I look away from Stone and at the clone trooper in the cell at the end of the hall. This one had a scar running down the side of his face, results of what I assumed was poor medical treatment.​

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Stone scowled and gave me the finger again before back away from his cell door.​

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I quietly began handing out trays, sliding hem from under the slits of the cell doors. When I reached the gruff clone trooper's cell, he scowled at me from the window before stepping back. I slid the tray under the slit and continued on. The fifteenth cell proved to be the oddest of my trip. The clone behind the cell muttered a soft 'thank you', almost making me pause a moment and come out of my self-induced haze of forced stupor. I nodded once at the cell door's window before moving on.​

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Walking out of the door, I automatically headed back to C-Level's command center. Information was freely granted here, I discovered. Being a droid of the Confederate military, I was given access to it solely because of the fact that battledroids could not betray their owners. But, as it seemed, I was not their battledroid.​

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A mild shudder racked through my frame as I distantly realized I had just acknowledged the fact that I was not a living thing anymore. I refused to let myself further devolve and start asking deeper questions.​

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"Seven-One-One, you're back!" Said the commander B1 in surprise. "Did they find out what was wrong?"​

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I idly shrug, not trusting myself to speak.​

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"Ah, well," replied another B1 with his cart, "At least he's mostly working again. Well, I'm off to F-Level!"​

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"Roger, roger," said the commander. He turned to me and pointed at the seat next to him. "Watch these feeds. If a prisoner looks like he's acting suspicious, inform me. Got that, Seven-One-One?"​

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I nodded silently, sitting down at the security console, peering down at it.​

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"I need to make my report to the captain, you stay here and make sure the prisoners in C-Level are secure." The commander droid walked out and I was left alone, with free access to security on this level.​

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It was a long moment, but I wished I could shut myself off, just so I didn't have to cope with being denied the basic senses of a biological being. I closed my eyes, only to realize all I did was shut off my photoreceptors. I almost tried to massage my temples, only to remember I didn't have temples to massage. Nor could I feel it.​

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With a sigh, I turned my eyes back on and stared at the console screen. The commander clone was slowly eating his nutrient paste, staring at the door angrily. The third cell had a clone quietly singing to himself. Another was making faces at another clone opposite of him. The fifteenth was idly staring at the door and muttering to himself.​

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My internal clock said I had only been at the console for fifty seconds.​

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It was going to be a long day.​