For part one, please read: http://therebelfaction.com/forums/showthread.php?t=9446

A lone vessel exited hyperspace, its presence noticed immediately by Smarts. Its transponder identified it as the Wandering One, a Gallofree Yards medium freighter. Wary of this intruder, Smarts powered up the ships shields and weapons, which, through extensive work, he had concentrated across the ship's dorsal (top) surface. Turning the vessel to bring the dorsal weapons to bear, Smarts activated his comm and asked the question he really didn't want to hear the answer to: "Identify yourself."

The image of a Ryn appeared over the holocomm. He looked calm, but Smarts couldn't be sure. Smarts had never met a Ryn before. "My name is Jarvis Ragnar; I'm here on behalf of the shipping department of the Astral Astoria. It's taken me a month to find you—there are a lot of stars in this sector—and I'd really appreciate it if you would hear me out before you go running off again."

"Hold your position, and talk quickly," Smarts said, turning his ship around to give himself a clear exit vector if the need arose.

Jarvis paused for a moment, apparently collecting his thoughts, or maybe fighting off the urge to turn his own ship around and leave. "The governing body of the Astral Astoria is prepared to pardon your acts of aggression and acknowledge you as a . . . um . . . sentient being, if you are willing to accept an urgent task. You see, we, the —

"That was really hard for you, wasn't it? Calling me 'sentient'? You know what's really hard for me? When people try to claim me as salvage. When people try to buy me; when people try to sell me. That's when I get a little 'choked up,' that's when I get a little confused. If you don't like me, you can leave. I didn't ask you to come here."

"My apologies," Jarvis said, actually sounding rather sincere. "But I am here on urgent business. There are currently tens of millions of cubic meters of essential supplies sitting onboard the Astral Astoria, and we don't have anyone to move them. There are dozens of unaligned worlds that are in desperate need of medicine and food, and if we don't move them soon, it will be too late for them." A terrible fear began to creep across Jarvis' face as he said those last few words.

Smarts waited several seconds, running calculations and determining probable outcomes. Finally, after an uncomfortable pause, he said, "How much does it pay?"

Jarvis sneered, glaring at the cruel, unsympathetic machine that would ask such a question. "Thousands of people are on the brink of death and you ask—"

"I ask because this ship is in pieces, and as it is, I probably won't be capable of doing what you ask," Smarts cut him off, managing to sound rather angry for a machine. "Over half of the ship is depressurized from gaps in the hull, the main thruster is not functioning, most of the repulsorlifts are missing, the landing gear isn't functioning, and I don't have enough droid laborers to move that much material."

"But, if you can't do it, they'll starve, or die of disease," Jarvis said reluctantly.

"I can do it, but not as I am now. I'll need repairs to my hull, to seal the breaches and allow me to repressurize the cargo bays. I'll also need to borrow several freighters to use to transport the supplies to the surface. And I'll need more worker droids to transport the supplies from my cargo bays, to the transports, and then onto the surface itself. I'm willing to accept the repairs and the droids as payment, but I'm also going to need your assurance that I won't get shot at by any factions before I go traveling around the galaxy, or I'll need replacements for my weapons and shields, which are mostly gone. Those are my terms."

Jarvis stared blankly into the holofield, obviously a little confused. "Who's going to crew the freighters, now?"

"I am; after all, that's what I was designed for. That's why I was built out of a droid control ship. With a few modifications the comm systems and main computers of those freighters, I can control them remotely in a kind of extensive slave circuit. So, is it a deal?"

Jarvis nodded once, and said, "Very well, then. If you'll follow me back to the Astral Astoria, we'll begin repairing those breaches and loading the cargo." Jarvis reached to deactivate the comm, then stopped and looked back up. "Thank you, Sir."

It took a week to do the repairs to Smarts' hull, and as soon as they were finished, Smarts set off on his mission. The Astral Astoria had been kind enough to equip Smarts with a transponder that identified him as a ship on a humanitarian mission. During the week he had been at the Astral , he learned why no one else had accepted the job. It seemed that no one wanted to spend a month or more on one low-paying shipping run that would take them all the way around the galaxy. But Smarts learned something else why he was at the Astral Astoria; he learned that he had made his first friend.

Jarvis was the one that set everything up with Astral's shipping department, and he managed to talk the department into giving Smarts three of the six freighters they were going to loan him. The freighters had come from the Astral's impound, and were formerly the property of various smugglers who had been caught by the Astral's police force. No one would be missing the ships, and Smarts really hadn't asked for very much as payment, so Jarvis made sure Smarts got what the trip was worth.

Smarts had already made two of his deliveries, and he had only been met with mild suspicion so far, but the next world would be something totally different. The inhabitants of Shili, near Bilbringi, had been suffering from a terrible, deadly virus for several months, and by the time Smarts arrived, the virus had spread so far, the medical supplies they were allocated were no longer sufficient to eradicate the virus. Some people would not be treated, and given time, the virus would spread again. Smarts was faced with a terrible decision: stick with the schedule, or give them supplies that belonged to someone else.

He reviewed the information he had about the worlds the hadn't reached yet, and decided almost immediately. He would ensure the virus was eradicated. Bacta was getting scarce in the galaxy, and if the choice was between saving a world or making sure someone's shelf got restocked, he would choose to save the world, and deal with the consequences.

But the natives were not thankful. If Smarts had arrived on time, millions of people would have been saved, and there would have been no need to leave additional supplies. Smarts was still trying to understand organic societies, and this encounter only showed him that he had a long way to go. He knew he had done the right thing, but still these people were ungrateful and even angry at him. Smarts left quickly, getting away from the world before anything went wrong.

The next two worlds worked out fine, with only minor complaint about the few medical supplies they were missing. The next world, Omwat, presented a problem. Smarts had decided to give them less than half of the medical supplies they were supposed to get, so he would have enough for the rest of the worlds. When he informed the government, they immediately told the general population, and some people became violent. The planet's defense force was dispatched to force Smarts to turn over the supplies, and several civilian craft joined in the attempt.

Smarts was too far into the planet's gravity field to jump away, and his freighters hadn't made it back to him yet. Smarts, his main thruster still inoperable, began descending toward the planet, intent on protecting his freighters, which were coming under fire. Smarts returned fire through his remote link with the freighters, firing carefully in an attempt to cripple his assailants without destroying them. The first wave of local ships shot past the freighters, climbing to assault the core ship. Smarts swung the ship upside down, bringing the dorsal weapons to bear and opening fire with forty point defense cannons. The attackers focused their fire on Smarts' comm tower, and the dorsal shields began to weaken under the force of the attack, which intensified as more ships arrived from the planet's surface. The good news was, the freighters were now being ignored.

As Smarts tumbled towards the planet's surface in a near-freefall, the concentrated fire of the small enemy vessels began to fail, and Smarts made the decision to start taking lives. His fire concentrated on the largest enemy vessels, which were little more than light freighters, and the ships soon vanished in clouds of fire. Smarts shifted firing patterns, sweeping a concentrated net of fire back and forth through the immediate area, crippling and destroying several of the defense fighters.

As his freighters approached and added their fire, Smarts swung the core ship back around, firing the ship's small thrusters and preparing to break away from the planet's pull. The ventral surface of the core ship took some damage from the remaining enemy vessels, and parts of the lower decks suffered hull breaches, but all of the remaining cargo was stored in the upper levels, and Smarts had no desire to hurt anyone else. In the last few moments of the conflict, while his freighters approached and landed within the core ship, Smarts used his few functional tractor beams to pluck crippled ships from their freefall, and set them in somewhat stable orbits.

By the time the freighters docked, Smarts had already broken free from the planet's downward pull, and was accelerating out of the planet's gravity field, taking damage all the way. Finally, Smarts was free of the planet's field, and he jumped away, traveling to his next destination. As soon as he was in hyperspace, he dispatched droids to make what repairs they could.

Jarvis Ragnar met Smarts at the next world, with a sizable force of Astral Astoria's defense force. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew it couldn't be good. The defense ships spread out immediately, trying to make it harder for Smarts to select an effective firing pattern or escape.

Jarvis' holoimage appeared, and the look on his face would have made Smarts feel ashamed, if he though he had done anything wrong.

"Word travels fast, doesn't it?" Smarts said, careful not to do anything that might be considered an aggressive act. He didn't want to lose his only friend.

"We've received word that you've shorted some worlds their supplies, and while we were on the way, we heard that you attacked a planet." Jarvis stopped, apparently trying to give Smarts a chance to explain himself.

"I attacked no one," Smarts responded quickly, continuing his standard approach toward the planet, though he would run into Jarvis in only a minute or two if neither of them altered course. "They attacked me. I fired to incapacitate until they attacked my comm array, then I defended myself as best I could. I could have destroyed them all, and I would have taken less damage if I had. I was merciful; others would have wiped them out, and would have had every right to. They were trying to kill me!” Smarts began decelerating, but didn’t change course. Unless Jarvis did something, they would still crash soon.

“That still doesn’t explain why people are missing their medical supplies,” Jarvis pointed out quickly. The Astral’s defense ships were closing around Smarts now, a few of them swinging behind him.

“The world of Shili was suffering from a virus. They needed more bacta than they had, so I gave it to them. I stand by my decision, and accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. But, if I don’t finish the deliveries that I can, many more people are going to be angry, and a few will be dead.

Jarvis decelerated and turned, opening the path for Smarts to continue toward the planet. “The Astral Astoria government has given me authority to bring you in,” Jarvis said. “I am hereby ordering you to return to the Astral Astoria upon the completion of your remaining deliveries, at which time your fate will be decided. Will you comply?”

“Of course,” Smarts replied. He watched as Jarvis’ ship and the defense ships formed up and jumped away. Smarts continued on course, delivered his supplies, and made the next jump. And the next. And the next. Everything went smoothly from then on; apparently, the Astral Astoria had contacted the last planets and let them know ahead of time that there was a problem. With all but one of his obligations fulfilled, Smarts plotted a course for the Astral Astoria and entered hyperspace, unsure of what he was getting himself into.

“People like you are the reason the Astral Astoria tries to stay out of galactic affairs. You took a simple task and messed it all up. You’ve got to be the stupidest machine I’ve ever met,” Jarvis said as he paced back and forth across Smarts’ bare bridge. The command consoles, secondary consoles, holorecorder, holoprojector, and even some of the chairs had been removed. Smarts was removing components that were essential for organics to command ships, but were useless to him, and selling them.

“I saved a world not too long ago, and you call me stupid?” Smarts retorted, his voice seeming to come from all around Jarvis. “Oh, and thanks for the ‘people’ thing,” He added casually. Smarts was really becoming his own person, developing a personality and possibly even humor as complex and unpredictable as most organics.

The removal of nonessential systems was part of Smarts’ attempt to meet the Astral Astoria’s government ruling. They had decided that the incident over Omwat was an act of self-defense, but he had been ordered to repay the cost of the medical supplies he had given away at Shili. He was selling the components to whoever would buy them, and he was amazed at how many people on a station the size of the Astral Astoria wanted to buy nearly-useless, completely outdated components.

Jarvis was the first organic to board Smarts since the scientists who made him, and it made Smarts a little uncomfortable, though he knew he could trust Jarvis. “I’ve got a few friends around in unaligned space,” Jarvis said suddenly. “I’ll ask around and see if they have any need to transport large quantities of, well, anything, right?”

“Anything thing legal,” Smarts responded. “I’d like to keep my record clean, at least long enough to actually have a record.”

“Right, that reminds me; the Astral Astoria has decided to issue you a permanent transponder and an identification tag. You are officially a person, as far as the Astral Astoria is concerned, and if anyone wants to contest that point, just tell them to bother the Astral government.”

“I’ve sold everything that I’m willing to, and I still haven’t paid off that fine yet.”

“If you’d let me into the aft holds, maybe I could help you find something,” Jarvis offered hopefully.

“No, I won’t let you into the aft holds, and no, I’m not going to sell anything from the aft holds. If you keep bothering me about that, I’m going to ask you to leave.” Smarts made the comment with a light tone, but it was clear to Jarvis that he meant it.

“And just how do you plan to make me leave?”

“There are things in the aft holds that can make you leave, and I don’t think you want to meet them under such unfriendly conditions.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll leave the aft holds alone. But at least the Astoria was nice enough to repair the damage you took at Omwat.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make sense at all; they fix me for free, then they charge me for saving a planet at the expense of some kid’s broken arm. But, I guess that’s how you organics work: if you get in trouble, you have to get someone else in trouble so it doesn’t look so much like it was your fault.”

“There’s an idea. You could go back to Shili and ask them to help you pay for the extra meds you left them.”

“They weren’t exactly happy about my last visit; I don’t think that will work.”

“I could come with you,” Jarvis offered. “People often respond better when there’s a face to accompany the voice they’re hearing. Besides, Shili’s probably the only world that’s backwards enough to listen to a Ryn. As for the tardiness of the meds, I’ll just blame it on the Astoria, and everything will be fine. From what I hear, the Togruta are decent enough people. Let’s do it,” Jarvis added excitedly.

“Your crew would be okay with that?” Smarts asked skeptically.

“Sure. They do what I tell them. Besides, they like you. They’re the reason I decided to accept the Astoria’s request to track you down in the first place. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Alright, let’s do it. Get everything cleared with your people on the Astoria, though; I don’t want them thinking I ran away.”

A few days later, Smarts exited hyperspace in the Shili system and found a world that was once again filled with healthy citizens. Smarts was commed immediately, the grateful face of a Togruta greeting him warmly. “Greetings, friend. My name is Traan Shi, and it’s so good to see you again. Please, come down immediately; I’ll prepare a place for you immediately.”

Smarts asked Jarvis, who was on the bridge of his own ship, the Wandering One, “Do you want to go down and see the locals?”

“No, that’s okay,” Jarvis responded, “it looks like you have everything under control after all.”

Smarts returned his attention to the Togruta. “I am incapable of landing on your planet. My most sincere apologies, but I must refuse your hospitality.” Smarts waited a moment, trying to find a way to say what he had to say without sounding rude, then giving up and just saying it. “I’m here on business, though. You see, my decision to help you has caused me some minor problems, and I now owe the government of the Astral Astoria the price of the extra supplies that I left you.”

“Oh, they were by no means extra,” Traan interjected quickly. “The bacta that you left my people has saved us from that terrible disease. Please, forgive our prior rudeness; we were mourning the loss of so many of our people at the time. We intended no anger toward you.” Traan paused for a moment, looking away from the holorecorder, then returned his attention. “Please, excuse me for a moment,” Traan said, stepping away from the recorder.

“What are they doing?” Smarts asked Jarvis.

“They’re either planning to shoot you out of the sky with a giant hidden weapon, trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament you’ve just put them into, or about to give you a ridiculous sum of money.”

Traan stepped back into view and began talking immediately. “Good Sir, it is my privilege to inform you that the people of Shili have decided to pay not only the full price of the additional bacta, but to present you with a reward of twice that amount for your truly merciful acts on behalf of our people.”

“I told you!” Jarvis shouted, and Smarts was immediately grateful he hadn’t allowed Jarvis to join the conversation with Traan.

A few days later, Smarts sat floating beside the Astral Astoria, waiting for a shipment of sublight drives to arrive. Smarts had given half of the reward money to Jarvis, who had left only a few hours ago, promising to keep in touch, and had paid off the rest of the debt he owed to the Astral Astoria. With the rest of the money, he had bought a few more droids and the sublight drives that were currently on their way. Though they weren’t nearly as powerful as he needed them to be, he planned to integrate them with his existing sublight systems, which would increase his sublight capabilities significantly. All in all, he felt good about things. He had been recognized by the Astral Astoria’s government as a living being, saved a people from a horrible death, made a new friend, gained three small freighers, and ended up with a . . . well, the core ship was still in shambles, but it would soon be in somewhat faster shambles, and that was a good thing.

With his identity secure and his reputation already growing, Smarts felt that his first great experiment with the organics had been a success, and though he hadn’t really answered the “friend or foe,” question as a whole, he had realized that they could be both, and at times, neither. So the great ship-mind that is Smarts waited, and did what he always does when waiting: he observed.