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“You make sure the Child is safe. Here. When you get to the Mandalorian covert you show them that. You tell them it’s from Din...Djarin. You tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they’ll help you.”
IG-11 continued cutting the sewer grate as it listened to the conversation. The human female designated CARA DUNE argued with the one designated THE MANDALORIAN. She wished him to accompany them, however THE MANDALORIAN clearly believed himself to be beyond repair and refused any further assistance.
An Imperial trooper began to assault their position with a flame cannon. IG-11 had no protections against such an attack and therefore followed its last command.
“I can hold them back long enough for you to escape,” THE MANDALORIAN explained to the human female. “Let me have a warrior’s death.” IG-11 thought this was logically sound. If THE MANDALORIAN were to perish, using that event to protect THE CHILD was acceptable.
Fire blasted through the door again, followed by the trooper. THE CHILD stood in the path of the trooper and IG-11 was about to abandon its current action to follow his Primary Directive when the trooper fired again. However the fire ball that shot from the cannon did not reach its destination. THE CHILD stopped it, willed it backwards into the trooper. Master had spoken of THE CHILD’S abilities in “The Force” but IG-11 had no frame of reference to understand it. It did not matter. The humans and THE CHILD were safe, though THE CHILD had exerted too much energy and passed into unconsciousness. IG-11 finished cutting the grate and kicked it open before going to assess its charge. A quick scan indicated no long-term damage, so IG-11 scooped THE CHILD into the bag and handed him to CARA DUNE.
As a nurse droid, its secondary functions included providing care to the sick or injured. Master had been very clear on this protocol; no one in need must be left to suffer. It had heard THE MANDALORIAN’S request to CARA DUNE regarding THE CHILD and took the words as an acceptable reason to bypass its Primary Directive. “ESCAPE AND PROTECT THIS CHILD,” IG instructed the human female. “I WILL STAY WITH THE MANDALORIAN.”
“Promise me you’ll bring him!” CARA DUNE shouted at him. The order was well within IG-11’s parameters; it was more than capable of carrying the weight of human male, alive or deceased.
“YOU HAVE MY WORD,” IG-11 responded.
With one glance back at the other human, CARA DUNE descended into the sewer tunnels. IG-11 walked to its patient. It performed an initial scan and determined that the human’s body had sustained several cracked bones, torn ligaments and muscles, and multiple contusions and lacerations, though nothing that would be fatal to a healthy human; all internal organs were at proper functioning levels. The beskar helmet blocked a proper visual evaluation of the human’s face and cranium, however he was alert and fully oriented, so it was highly unlikely that he had sustained severe injury to his brain, likely only a minor concussion from being physically thrown back in the explosion. IG-11’s final assessment was that the human had no fatal injuries.
“Do it,” THE MANDLORIAN ordered.
IG-11 had no reference for what “IT” entailed. “DO WHAT?” it queried for clarification.
“Just get it over with. I’d rather you kill me than some Imp.”
While IG-11 had no memories of its previous life before the Master had remade it, it was aware that previous Directives had included hunting and killing sentient species for credits and reputation. It knew THE MANDALORIAN harbored a fear that such a directive would cause IG-11 to bring harm to THE CHILD; moreso IG-11 knew the human also had a personal distrust of it even though IG-11 believed it had never done anything threatening to the human. Master certainly would have corrected any such undesirable behavior.
“I TOLD YOU I AM NO LONGER A HUNTER. I AM A NURSE DROID,” IG-11 once again attempted to explain its current functions.
“IGs are all hunters.”
“NOT THIS ONE. I WAS REPROGRAMMED.” IG-11 did not appreciate its Master’s work being questioned. “I NEED TO REMOVE YOUR HELMET IF I AM GOING TO SAVE YOU.” IG-11 sensed that the human’s belief in his own imminent demise was absolute, therefore IG-11 initiated the subroutine for “humoring the patient” to expedite cooperation.
As expected THE MANDALORIAN balked at the suggestion and raised his blaster. “Try it and I’ll kill you.” IG-11 was a droid and could not be perturbed, but the insistence to keep the armor in place was illogical. “It is f-forbidden. No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I swore the Creed.”
IG-11 found that statement to be unlikely. Many living things existed that were outside human perception. But that was not an argument to be had at this point. If THE MANDALORIAN was concerned about IG-11 seeing the human’s face, then that was an easy problem to solve.
“I AM NOT A LIVING THING,” IG-11 stated. It was metal and wires and data processors. It had no parents, dreams, emotions; only makers, directives, and logic.
Without waiting for a response, IG-11 reached forward and lifted the helmet. THE MANDALORIAN gasped as his face was revealed. Heart rate and blood pressure suddenly spiked in fear or some other comparable emotion. IG-11 noted the human’s face was dirty, covered in sweat and a small about of blood from some small lacerations. The pupils were dilated but equal. IG-11 noted that blood ran out of the right ear due to a burst eardrum, but the cranium was fully intact with no loss of integrity. In IG-11’s assessment, THE MANDALORIAN had a 98.845% chance of recovery.
However the droid’s protocols inferred from the human’s previous conversation with CARA DUNE and the look of despair on his face, that THE MANDALORIAN was not going to take this assessment at face-value. IG-11 determined that administering a placebo would be in order to get the human up and moving.
It triggered the bacta spray Master had installed on its left appendage. “THIS IS A BACTA SPRAY,” it told the human. “IT WILL HEAL YOU IN A MATTER OF HOURS.” This was not in fact a lie. The lacerations on the epidermis would be healed by the spray. “YOU HAVE SUFFERED DAMAGE TO YOUR CENTRAL PROCESSING UNIT.” This was an untruth, but Master had programmed HUMOR into its functions, which by definition was untrue.
“You mean my brain?” the human asked in confusion.
“THAT WAS A JOKE. IT IS MEANT TO PUT YOU AT EASE.” The human scoffed, apparently unimpressed with the humor. It did not matter though, the human believed the spray was going to “repair” his brain, and, therefore, would continue into the tunnels, allowing IG-11 to comply with CARA DUNE’S instructions.
IG-11 stood back and waited. It could detect movement from outside the building; time was limited. “CAN YOU MOVE?” it asked THE MANDALORIAN.
After a moment, the human nodded. He pushed himself up, wincing as the structural injuries pained him. IG-11 placed an appendage on the human’s arm and helped him rise. THE MANDALORIAN did not refuse the help. Once the human was standing, IG-11 let go. The human wavered slightly, then looked at it. “Thank you,” THE MANDALORIAN said in a gruff but soft voice. “I feel like I should apologize for shooting you in the head now.”
“DON’T.” IG-11 responded. “YOU WERE PROTECTING THE CHILD. THAT IS ALWAYS THE PRIMARY OBJECTIVE.”
“Yes,” THE MANDALORIAN said with a slight smile. “On that we agree.” IG-11 held the helmet to the human, who took it in his hand and looked at it with almost reverence. “The Creed is very important to me.”
“I UNDERSTAND,” IG-11 replied. “IT IS YOUR PRIMARY DIRECTIVE.”
THE MANDALORIAN nodded slowly. “Yes, but...” He frowned and IG-11 sensed sadness and guilt reflected on the human’s face.
“THE CHILD IS SAFE. YOU ARE ALIVE. THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS. WE SHOULD JOIN THE OTHERS.”
“Yes.” THE MANDALORIAN placed the helmet on his head and attempted to take step. There was a slight stumble, so IG-11 moved to support him, prepared for the offer to be rebuffed. But it wasn’t. THE MANDALORIAN leaned against it and allowed it to help him down into the sewer tunnels.
IG-11 believed Master would be proud.
The End.