TH-07 loved numbers—though the very concept of feelings was alien to him. After all, he was a droid. A T-series tactical droid, to be precise.
TH-07 was convinced that droids were the ideal soldiers. They possessed endurance beyond that of any living creature—so long as they had sufficient energy. Droids shot more accurately, their aiming speed, reaction time, and firing precision extraordinary, limited only by the mechanical parameters of their design. Droids did not question orders; they carried them out. The only thing that diminished the already low combat potential of these machines was the fact that the main battle unit, the B-1, was impossibly primitive. Yet this flaw was more than compensated for by sheer numbers.
Since the days of Naboo, the B-1s had undergone certain modifications—minimal intelligence, vocabulators, and limited autonomy—but they still lagged far behind the clone army in many ways.
However, through countless calculations, TH-07 had reached a conclusion: organic officers without real combat experience were inadequate to command an army of droids. The view of the CIS command fully coincided with his own analysis.
Naturally, vast armies of soulless machines required a vast number of commanders. The experience of Naboo had demonstrated that control stations were no panacea, and the B-1 OOM-series command droids, created to direct troops but lacking the ability to operate autonomously, were doomed to fail.
Moreover, while the CIS encompassed countless planets, few of them possessed genuine military traditions. Not every planet or system could boast a trained army or a competent officer corps. Of course, there were talented military leaders—and a modest number of experienced (and not so experienced) flesh-and-blood officers—among the Separatists, but they were too few to meet demand.
The logical solution for the CIS was clear: to create a specialized droid officer. Fortunately, engineers loyal to the Separatist movement already had extensive experience in developing and deploying such technology. It had been Bactoid, more than a decade earlier, that created the OOM series for the Trade Federation—droids with limited artificial intelligence, specialized programming, and the ability to act as junior officers on the battlefield. Yet for all its merits, the OOM line was unsuitable for the role of a true tactical commander. It could follow orders, but it lacked creative reasoning and the capacity for independent judgment.
Even before the war began, fully aware of the officer shortage, the CIS placed an order with Bactoid to develop a new line of tactical droids. The TX-07 belonged to the first experimental batch, released two years ago. The customer's requirements were clear: powerful heuristic processors with modern cognitive modules capable of processing massive volumes of data from multiple sources. Combined with advanced artificial intelligence, the T-series droids were, in essence, self-propelled analytical computers—capable of self-learning and autonomous decision-making based on the information available to them within the framework of their combat directives.
The military and political leadership wanted these droid officers to be independent and capable of acting on their own initiative. In their view, a high degree of autonomy would allow the droid to respond more flexibly to changes in battle conditions.
When the war broke out, the production lines went active, and tactical droids began arriving in units within the first week. But due to shortages, the experimental batch—nine units remaining at the time—was also sent to the front.
TH-07 had been waiting for this moment. All two years, three months, six days, three hours, seven minutes, and fifty-seven seconds of operation—according to Standard Galactic Time—Zero-Seven, as one of the engineers had called him, had devoted himself entirely to data analysis and virtual tactical simulations. The tests had been designed to measure the new model's capacity for self-learning.
Now the tactical droid was finally being deployed for its intended purpose. He was placed in command of one of the newly formed Confederacy fleets.
The mission assigned to TX-07 was straightforward: the planet Togoria had pledged allegiance to the CIS. The fleet was to enter orbit, provide cover for the landing of garrison troops to aid the loyal government, and prevent any Republic forces from breaking through to the planet.
At the same time, dozens of other fleets across the galaxy were receiving their own objectives.
***
Sartorius Dittmar was a hereditary aristocrat from the planet Yulant. As the son of the head of one of the planet's largest agricultural enterprises, Sartorius had developed a certain disdain for ordinary people from an early age—a trait not uncommon among the offspring of noble families. With time, it only deepened.
After consulting with his father, young Sartorius chose a path of "service" to the Republic, enrolling in the Academy of the Justice Department. Upon graduation—not among the best, but comfortably mid-ranked—Dittmar hoped to ascend the corridors of power. Yet for seven long years, opportunity refused to present itself. The work was monotonous and dull: duty aboard a small corvette, endless patrols, the occasional chase after smugglers, and the company of tiresome, narrow-minded colleagues…
However, the war that had erupted brought Ditmar to the top, though not quite. Dittmar had hoped for a post at Sector Headquarters, but that position went to someone more deserving (or, more likely, wealthier and better connected). Still, he did not despair. The command of a dozen ships—half of them genuine warships rather than the pitiful tubs of the Justice Department—was more than satisfactory. It promised both prestige and prospects.
Yet one detail did not make the ambitious officer happy: his ships' crews, aside from a few captains, consisted entirely of clones. What were these "meat droids" to him! They performed their duties, and that was fine, although he personally would have preferred to have a crew of non-clones. But there was nothing he could do about it - the Republic didn't have enough trained specialists to fill the rather large crews of the new ships..
Reports from earlier battles (Dittmar had read them, though his squadron had yet to see combat) suggested that the Separatists were commanded by mediocre officers. Dittmar, naturally, considered himself an exceptional strategist—and how could it be otherwise? He was Sartorius Dittmar, after all, a man destined for admiration and glory.
Upon receiving his orders from Sector Command, Dittmar immediately signaled his fleet to advance to the designated coordinates.
I won't let that upstart Rinaun steal my glory! Before he even arrives, I'll crush the Separatist fleet and seal off the system. All the honors will be mine—and Sector Command will finally recognize my brilliance!
"Commander, estimated time of arrival—twenty minutes," reported the clone captain.
"Excellent! Ready all ships for battle! We'll blast those Separatists into dust!" Dittmar declared with a sweeping motion of his hand.