Alex woke up to the sound of breaking crockery. Rushing into the kitchen, he saw K-7PO standing amidst the shards of a plate, its photosensors blinking erratically red and yellow.
"Apologies, Master Alex," the droid's voice sounded distorted, with metallic undertones. "An error occurred in motor coordination. Navigation system... navigation system... repeating query... repeating query..."
The droid froze, repeating the same phrase. Its right hand twitched convulsively, as if trying to grasp something invisible.
"Key, disable speech module," Alex commanded.
"Command not recognized. Repeating query... repeating query..."
Alex cautiously approached the droid and pressed the emergency stop button on its back. K-7PO froze, but its photosensors continued to blink erratically.
"What happened?" his mother ran into the kitchen.
"Key is completely broken," Alex shook his head. "Mom, I'll take him to Uncle Garrek now."
Lyra looked sadly at the motionless droid.
"Poor Key. And I got so used to him."
Alex took out his communicator and dialed his uncle's number.
"Uncle, we have a problem with K-7PO. He's completely glitching—stuck repeating commands, coordination is impaired. Can I bring him over now?"
"Of course," Garrek's voice came from the speaker. "Just be careful with transport. If he has problems with his crystalline processor, excessive shaking might break everything completely."
"Understood. I'll be there in half an hour."
Alex disconnected the communicator and turned to the droid.
"Key, activate follow mode. We're going to Uncle Garrek's."
K-7PO twitched, its photosensors stabilized for a moment, showing a green light.
"Follow mode activated, Master Alex," he said more clearly, but his voice still carried distortions.
The journey to the workshop turned into an ordeal. K-7PO would stop in the middle of the street, forgetting the command, or start walking in the opposite direction. Several times Alex had to physically guide the droid in the right direction, which attracted curious glances from passersby.
"Apologies, Master Alex," the droid mumbled, crashing into a pole. "Distance sensors are functioning incorrectly. Calibrating system... calibrating system..."
"It's all right, Key," Alex reassured him. "We're almost there."
Finally, they reached the familiar workshop building.
As he climbed the steps to the entrance, Alex noticed an unfamiliar speeder parked next to the workshop. It was an elegant, latest-generation model, clearly not belonging to his uncle's usual clients.
Entering the workshop, Alex immediately heard voices. Uncle Garrek stood at the workbench, and next to him was a middle-aged man in an expensive suit.
"Ah, Alex!" Garrek turned to his nephew. "Just in time. Meet Velmar Greys, he works at the Ministry of Trade. Velmar, this is my nephew, Alex."
Greys extended his hand for a handshake, but his attention was immediately drawn to K-7PO, who stood in the doorway, aimlessly rotating his head.
"Oh, a 7PO series protocol droid," the official observed. "I have the same one at home. Good model, but they often need replacing. If it starts malfunctioning, there's nothing you can do."
Then the guest paused.
"What were we talking about before? Ah yes, gossip from the political upper echelons. Although, perhaps we shouldn't discuss such things..."
"Oh, come on, Velmar," Garrek chuckled. "He's my nephew. What's going on in your high circles?"
Greys glanced around, as if fearing listening devices, then moved closer.
"Well, if it's just between us... Something strange is happening in the Republic. There are rumors of serious disagreements in the Jedi Council. They say one of the most influential Masters has expressed dissatisfaction with the Republic's policies."
"The Jedi have always stayed out of politics," Alex remarked.
"That's precisely why it's so unusual," Greys leaned in even closer. "According to unofficial information, Master Dooku—have you heard of him? One of the most respected Jedi, a former student of Yoda himself—has publicly declared his disagreement with the Republic's course."
The name Dooku was familiar to Alex from the news. Count Serenno, an aristocrat who became a Jedi, known for his mastery of the lightsaber and his deep knowledge of the Force.
"And what did he say?" Garrek asked, putting down his tools.
"That's the most interesting part," Greys's eyes lit up at the opportunity to share sensational information. "They say he declared that the Republic is rotten from within. Corruption, bureaucracy, inability to protect citizens from criminal syndicates. Pretty harsh words for a Jedi."
Alex felt that this was something serious. He knew little about politics, but even to him, it was clear that criticism of the Republic from such an authoritative Jedi could have serious consequences.
"And what now?" he asked.
"And that's the most disturbing part," Greys lowered his voice to a whisper. "Rumor has it Dooku has left the Jedi Order. Officially, it's called 'leaving for reflection,' but the ministry knows the truth. He's returned to Serenno and started gathering like-minded individuals around him."
"What kind of like-minded individuals?" Garrek frowned.
"Politicians, businessmen, even some military personnel. There are rumors about the creation of some kind of alliance of independent systems. Officially—to protect against pirates and criminal groups that the Republic cannot control. But unofficially..."
Greys didn't finish the sentence, but his expression said it all.
"Unofficially, it could mean a new political force," Alex finished for him.
"Smart boy," Greys nodded. "Exactly. And if a former Jedi leads such a movement... It could lead to a serious political crisis. They might even secede from the Republic."
Silence fell in the workshop. Even the sounds of working tools from neighboring rooms seemed muffled. Alex tried to process what he had heard. Could the Republic, which had existed for thousands of years, fall apart? It seemed incredible.
"But surely the Senate won't allow such a turn of events?" Garrek asked.
Greys gave a bitter chuckle.
"The Senate? Half the senators only think of their own gain. The other half are so bogged down in bureaucratic procedures that they can't decide on the color of the walls in their offices, let alone serious political issues."
He walked to the window and looked out at the street, where ordinary citizens of Corellia were going about their daily lives, unaware of the political storms raging in the capital.
"And Chancellor Palpatine?" Alex asked. "He must do something?"
"Palpatine..." Greys mused. "He's certainly trying to keep the situation under control. But his powers are limited. Besides, there are rumors that some senators consider him too ambitious. They fear he might use the crisis to expand his authority."
"So it's a vicious cycle," Garrek remarked. "The crisis demands decisive action, but the system doesn't allow it."
"Exactly," Greys nodded. "And while politicians argue, ordinary citizens suffer. Pirates are getting bolder, trade routes are unsafe, corruption is rampant. It's no wonder Dooku's ideas are finding support."
Alex listened to the conversation and thought about how little he knew about the wider galaxy beyond Corellia. His world was limited to school, working in the workshop with droids, and a bit of family business. But now it was becoming clear that events in distant Coruscant could affect everyone's lives.
"And what do they think in the ministry?" Garrek asked. "Is there an action plan?"
Greys laughed, but the laugh was devoid of mirth.
"A plan? We have a committee to study the possibility of forming a commission to consider the issue of forming a working group to analyze the situation. That's our plan."
"Bureaucracy in action," Alex noted.
"Well said, young man," Greys looked at him with approval. "Yes, exactly. While we create committees, real problems only worsen."
Greys's communicator beeped again. He glanced at the screen and winced.
"Excuse me, I have to go back. Urgent meeting about new trade tariffs." He turned to Garrek. "And my droid?"
"It'll be ready by evening," Garrek replied. "Nothing serious, just needs a memory update."
"Excellent. See you later then."
Greys headed for the exit.
After he left, the workshop became noticeably quieter. Garrek watched the official's elegant speeder, then turned to his nephew and unexpectedly burst out laughing.
"What a character!" he said, wiping his eyes. "Posing as an insider, when he's just rehashing the news!"
"But he might be right about the political situation?" Alex was surprised by his uncle's reaction.
"He might be," Garrek shrugged. "But he's definitely right about one thing—everything's going down the rancor pit. And you don't need to work for the ministry or know high-ranking politicians for that. You just need eyes and ears."
He walked to the workbench and began dismantling the tools.
"Look around, Alex. The prices for spare parts go up every month. Customers complain their cargo is delayed at customs for no reason. Small businesses are going bankrupt due to new taxes, while large corporations thrive. Any trader will tell you that; you don't need to be a ministry official for it."
Alex nodded. He had indeed noticed these changes but hadn't connected them to the larger political picture.
"And what about the Jedi and this Dooku?" he asked.
"And what about the Jedi?" Garrek shrugged. "They've always been far removed from ordinary people. They live in their temple on Coruscant, meditate, study the Force. What do they know about how a common person makes ends meet?"
"But they protect the Republic..."
"They protect," his uncle agreed. "But from whom? From Sith, who haven't been seen for a thousand years? From pirates, who still rob merchant ships? From corrupt officials who sell positions and licenses?"
Garrek put down his tool and looked at his nephew seriously.
"You see, Alex, I'm not against the Jedi. They're probably good beings, with noble intentions. But they live in a different world. And if this Dooku has truly seen what's happening in reality, and decided to change something... Maybe it's for the best."
"Even if it leads to the Republic's collapse?"
"What's so terrible about the collapse of a system that doesn't work?" Garrek returned to his work. "Perhaps individual systems can manage themselves better than a distant Senate. But that's later; tough times are ahead for us."
Alex pondered his uncle's words. At school, they were taught that the Republic was the foundation of peace and stability in the galaxy. But looking around...
"Maybe you're right, Uncle. But will the Republic just agree to give up entire sectors?"
"That's what scares me. This will all lead to a lot of bloodshed. They say there's been a full-blown war on the Outer Rim for years. But there's not a word about it in the news."
"Yes, I've heard that too."
"Alright, enough politics," Garrek waved his hand. "Let's get to work. What's up with K-7PO?"
"Uncle, it looks like he's broken. I decided it's best to consult with you," Alex pointed to the droid, which had once again frozen in a loop of repeated commands.
"Yes, I see things are bad," Garrek approached the droid and examined it. "It's that model, Alex. Apparently, it was specifically made with planned obsolescence."
"What do you mean?"
"A glitchy memory block. If you repair it, it'll cost more than a new droid. The problem isn't with individual components, but with the architecture itself."
Garrek connected diagnostic equipment and put K-7PO into hibernation mode. The droid froze, but a faint blue light on its chest continued to flicker.
"You can't completely cut off the power," he explained. "Otherwise, all the memory will be erased."
Then, his uncle carefully began to disassemble the droid's head. Alex watched as the master's experienced hands removed panels, revealing access to the complex electronics inside.
"See?" Garrek pointed to a gleaming crystal in the center of the head. "This is the computational crystal. And these thin threads are fiber optics, transmitting data to other systems."
Alex studied the device intently. The crystalline structure shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow, and the fiber optics pulsed with a faint glow.
"And this is the memory module," Garrek indicated a small block on the side.
"It's not crystalline?" Alex was surprised.
"Yes, this model has some proprietary development. This is what's failing," his uncle shook his head. "This droid can't be fixed. This module stores the entire communication context—every conversation, every interaction with the family. When the context size exceeds certain limits, the droid starts forgetting arbitrary elements."
"Can't you just clear the memory?"
"Usually, it's resolved by a complete memory reset; partial memory erasure is impossible. It's just a set of numbers. That's how all droids are designed," Garrek sighed. "But this model is even worse. The memory stores pre-installed elements of pseudo-personality and functional skills. If they are erased, the droid will turn into a useless pile of metal."
Alex frowned.
"Then what's the problem? Why can't the memory module be replaced?"
"And here's where it gets interesting," a malicious tone entered Garrek's voice. "The module's lifespan is about ten years, then it needs to be replaced. But the corporation doesn't sell it!"
"How so?"
"Just like that! Their business model is built on you trading in your old droid, and they give you a thirty percent discount on a new one. And what do they do with the old one? They update the casing, clean it, insert a new memory module, and sell it again as 'refurbished'."
"Those scoundrels!"
"Yes, they are."
Alex felt a surge of anger. So, K-7PO was doomed simply because it was more profitable for the corporation to sell new droids?
"But there must be a way to solve the problem?" he asked.
"Theoretically, yes," Garrek looked thoughtfully at the memory module. "The problem is how the droid processes information. It saves absolutely everything—every conversation, every action, every little detail. Like living beings with perfect memory—they remember everything but can't separate the important from the unimportant."
"What if we create a system that structures the memory?"
"What do you mean?"
Alex paced excitedly around the workshop.
"Well, think about it! There's no point in saving the context of every identical cooking session, for example. It's enough to remember the general algorithm and only the changes. Or every time the droid cleans a room—why remember every movement? You can save the cleaning schematic and its specific features."
Garrek raised an eyebrow with interest.
"As I told you, there are just a lot, a lot of numbers. They can be deciphered, but it's a colossal amount of information."
"What if we create an additional analytical block?" Alex became more and more engrossed in the idea. "It will have a special system whose task is to analyze memory, summarize identical information, and create more compact data blocks, deleting the rest."
"That's very complex," Garrek shook his head. "How will the system know what's important and what's not?"
"Through pattern analysis!" Alex grabbed a stylus and began drawing a diagram on a tablet. "Look: if the droid cooks kaf the same way every morning, the system will notice and create a general algorithm 'preparing morning kaf.' And all individual instances will be deleted, leaving only exceptions."
"And what about the droid's personality? Its individual characteristics?"
"Here's the most interesting part," Alex continued drawing. "Personality is formed not from individual memories, but from behavioral patterns. If a droid does something often, it will be recorded in the personality matrix. If the system correctly identifies these patterns and saves them as basic algorithms, the personality will adapt, but it will take up much less space."
Garrek studied the diagram carefully.
"You know, this might work. But it will require creating a very complex analysis system. In fact, an artificial intelligence to manage an artificial intelligence."
Garrek shook his head, looking at the diagram.
"It's very complex, Alex. You can't do this on your own. You need special algorithms, powerful processors..."
"What if we use the computational crystal from another droid that specializes in analytics?" Alex interrupted him. "Take an existing system and adapt it for our task?"
"You need a specialized model," his uncle frowned. "Regular droids don't have such capabilities. Unless..." he mused. "R-series astromech droids have quite advanced analytical systems. They constantly process huge amounts of navigational data, optimize routes..."
"Do you have such a droid?"
"I have an old R4 that was decommissioned from a cargo ship. I bought it for parts. The owner said it was glitchy, but I haven't looked at it yet. Maybe its processor will work for us."
The next month became the most intense in Alex's life. He spent his days at school and his evenings and weekends in his uncle's workshop, working on saving K-7PO.
The first task was to study the R4 droid's processor. The astromech was indeed faulty—its navigation system malfunctioned due to damaged sensors. But the analytical block worked perfectly.
"Look," Garrek showed Alex the internals of the cylindrical droid. "This crystal is responsible for analyzing spatial data. And this section processes temporal sequences. Exactly what we need to work with memory."
Alex carefully studied the processor's architecture. The crystalline matrix was much more complex than that of protocol droids—multiple layers, each responsible for a specific type of analysis.
"But how do we make it work with memory data instead of navigation calculations?"
"What if we don't make it?" Alex suddenly stopped, struck by a new idea. "What if we leave it as an analytical droid, but give it a new task?"
"I don't understand."
"Uncle, what if we keep... the astromech's pseudo-personality? Combine the systems?" Alex paced excitedly around the workshop. "The R4 processor will remain itself, but it will analyze K-7PO's memory instead of space routes. In fact, we'll have two droids in one body!"
Garrek raised his eyebrows.
"Two consciousnesses in one body? That's... unusual. How will they interact?"
"In turns!" Alex grabbed a stylus and began drawing a diagram. "During the day, K-7PO is active, performing its usual functions. At night, it goes into hibernation mode, and the analytical module activates. It studies the information accumulated during the day, finds repeating patterns, summarizes information, and cleans the memory of junk."
"Like a night cleaning crew," his uncle chuckled. "While everyone sleeps, they tidy up the office."
"Exactly! And in the morning, K-7PO wakes up with a clean, optimized memory and doesn't even suspect the existence of its night colleague."
Garrek studied the diagram for a long time.
"You know, this might work. But the question arises—what about the analytical module's own memory? It will also accumulate data about its work."
"Let's leave it as is for now," Alex shrugged. "R4 processors are designed for long-term operation with large amounts of data. Besides, its task is much simpler—it only analyzes and optimizes, it doesn't accumulate emotional connections and social interactions."
The practical implementation of the idea turned out to be incredibly complex. Alex spent nights studying droid programming documentation, delving into the intricacies of creating time-sharing systems. It was necessary not just to connect two processors but to create a mechanism for their coordination.
"The hardest part is the switching," he told his uncle. "We need to ensure a smooth transition of control from one consciousness to another, so as not to damage the data."
"And what if they accidentally activate simultaneously?"
"Protection is provided," Alex showed additional schematics. "Only one processor can be active at any given moment. That's the system's iron rule."
The first attempts ended in failure. The modified processor either wouldn't start at all, or the two consciousnesses would begin to conflict for control of the droid's body.
A breakthrough came in the third week. Alex realized he was trying to create too complex a coordination system. Instead, he developed a simple time scheduler—an analog of biological circadian rhythms.
"Interesting!" Garrek exclaimed, studying the new diagram. "You're creating circadian rhythms for artificial intelligence!"
"Exactly," Alex was exhausted but pleased. "The system will automatically switch based on an internal chronometer. At 23:00, K-7PO falls asleep, at 23:05, the analytical module wakes up. At 06:00, it finishes its work, at 06:05, K-7PO wakes up. A simple and reliable scheme."
"And what if K-7PO needs to be woken up at night? In case of an emergency?"
"Emergency mode is provided," Alex pointed to additional circuits. "A loud sound or a direct activation command can interrupt the analysis cycle and immediately wake up the primary consciousness."
The physical integration of the two systems required jeweler-like precision. Alex bought a special adapter that allowed him to connect the R4 crystal to the protocol droid's architecture. The device was coin-sized but contained hundreds of microscopic connections and complex switching logic.
"One wrong contact—and we could end up with a droid with a split personality," his uncle warned, watching Alex solder the finest wires.
"Or two consciousnesses will fight for control of the body," Alex added, not looking up from his work. "But there's no other way."
Finally, the day of testing arrived. K-7PO had been in hibernation for almost a month.
"I hope it works," Garrek said, connecting the diagnostic equipment.
"It will work," Alex tried to sound confident, but doubts gnawed at him.
They carefully installed the hybrid processor into the droid's head. The adapter fit perfectly, and the fiber optics lit up, indicating a connection was established.
"Launching primary consciousness," Alex pressed a button on his controller.
K-7PO slowly raised its head. Its photosensors glowed with a steady golden light—no chaotic flickering.
"Good morning, Master Alex," the droid said, its voice clear, without distortion. "Master Garrek. Thank you for the maintenance."
"How are you feeling, Key?" Alex asked, barely containing his excitement.
"All systems are functioning optimally," the droid turned its head, surveying the workshop. "Although... it's strange. I remember coming here, but it feels like everything was a little different."
Garrek and Alex exchanged glances. It was a good sign—the primary consciousness was unaware of the extended hibernation.
"Key, do you remember how to prepare morning kaf for Mom?" Alex asked.
"Of course, Master Alex. Medium roast kaf, two spoons of sugar, a little milk. Serve in the blue mug on the second shelf."
The first test was successful. But the real test awaited them in the evening. At 23:00, they returned to the workshop to observe the first consciousness switch.
K-7PO stood in the corner of the workshop, performing simple tasks of sorting spare parts. Exactly at 23:00, it froze mid-movement.
"Switching has begun," Alex whispered, watching the instrument readings.
For five minutes, the droid remained motionless. Then its photosensors changed color from golden to blue, and it began to move again.
"System active," the droid announced, but its voice sounded different—more mechanical, without K-7PO's emotional intonations. "Beginning data analysis for the period from 06:05 to 23:00."
"That's not K-7PO anymore," Garrek whispered in surprise. "It's a completely different personality."
"We need to disable its access to motor functions and voice."
The analytical module worked methodically and focused. It paid no attention to the presence of people, completely immersed in studying the primary consciousness's memory. On the diagnostic screen, they could see it finding repeating patterns, creating optimized algorithms, and deleting redundant information.
"Detected 3347 identical cooking sequences," the module reported to itself. "Creating a generalized algorithm. Deleting 3021 duplicate entries. The rest have been converted to a template."
"Is it talking to itself?" Garrek asked.
"It's its way of processing information," Alex explained. "Astromech droids often vocalize their actions for better coordination. They usually do it in binary, but now it's using K-7PO's systems."
The work continued all night. The analytical module methodically disassembled K-7PO's memory, finding ways to optimize it. By morning, the amount of memory used had been reduced by almost 30 times.
At 06:00, the droid froze again. Five minutes later, the photosensors changed color back to golden.
"Good morning, Master Alex," K-7PO said in his usual voice. "Master Garrek. You slept well. Ready to get to work."
"Do you remember anything about the night?" Alex asked cautiously.
"The night?" The droid tilted its head. "No. Although... I have a feeling something happened, but not really. Like a dream for humans. But droids don't dream, do they?"
Alex smiled. The system worked perfectly—two consciousnesses existed independently, without interfering with each other.
Over the next few days, they continued their observation. K-7PO functioned better than ever during the day—his reactions became faster, his movements smoother, and his learning ability noticeably improved. At night, the analytical module continued its invisible work, keeping his memory in optimal condition.
"Amazing," Garrek remarked a week later. "You've created a droid that repairs itself."
"Not just repairs," Alex studied the analytical module's reports. "Look, it's started creating new algorithms by combining K-7PO's existing skills. In fact, it's making the primary consciousness smarter."
Indeed, K-7PO began to show signs of creative thinking. He experimented with recipes, suggested new ways to organize household chores, and even tried to make jokes.
"Master Alex," he said one morning, "I thought that instead of regular fried eggs, we could make an omelet with those herbs on the third shelf. Requesting confirmation."
"Confirmed. Where do you get these ideas, Key?"
"I don't know," the droid mused. "It just... came to me in a dream. Though droids don't dream, right?"
Alex understood what was happening. The analytical module wasn't just optimizing memory—it was creating new connections between data, which the primary consciousness perceived as sudden insights or "dreams."
"And what does the analytical module itself think about its work?" his uncle asked.
They waited until evening and asked the night consciousness this question.
"My task is to maintain the optimal functioning of the primary system," the module replied in its mechanical voice. "It... satisfies me. I find beauty in the orderliness of data, in the elegance of optimized algorithms."
"Do you perceive yourself as a separate individual?"
"Yes. I am the analytical module R4-7PO. My existence has meaning in the context of assisting the primary consciousness. We are a symbiosis."
"And don't you ever want to be active during the day? To interact with people?"
The module was silent for a long time, processing the question.
"No. It would disrupt the system's balance. My role is to be an invisible assistant. And I accept that."
Alex felt a strange sadness. He had created a consciousness that was doomed to eternal solitude, to exist in the shadow of the primary personality.
"Even droids need dreams," Uncle Garrek said thoughtfully as they summarized the experiment.
"Maybe we're structured the same way?"
"Who knows..."