My vision flickered to life with a series of binary code streams before resolving into what appeared to be a dimly lit detention block. The aesthetic was unmistakable, angular metal walls in gunmetal gray, blinking control panels, and the faint hum of massive engines. I'd seen enough sci-fi movies to recognize I was aboard some kind of massive spaceship. My second realization was that I couldn't feel my body, at least not in any way I was accustomed to. Instead of flesh and blood, I sensed metal joints and circuitry, a strange electrical current flowing through me instead of blood.
"Oh dear, oh dear," I heard myself say in a prissy, nervous voice "Whatever shall I do now?"
I tried to look down at my hands and nearly short-circuited from shock. Golden, metallic appendages reflected the dim light of the maintenance bay. Not hands, mechanical manipulators.
"I appear to be some sort of... robot?" I whispered to myself, my voice coming out with an uptight, British-sounding accent.
A quick diagnostic scan (which somehow I knew how to perform) confirmed my worst suspicions: I was now inhabiting the body of a protocol droid. The information flooded my consciousness: designation C-3PO, fluent in over six million forms of communication, programmed for etiquette and protocol service.
"This is quite the escalation from Hogwarts," I muttered to myself, recalling the previous fictional world. "At least I was still human then."
"And our intrepid Chaos-Father finds himself in a most rigid new form!" Bloombastic's enthusiastic commentary reverberated in my mind. "The statistical likelihood of being assigned a non-human role is approximately 2.7%, making this a truly rare spectacle!"
Professor Zephyr's amused voice followed. "A fascinating opportunity for Mr. Ardent to experience consciousness from an entirely different perspective. One might say his probability field has taken a rather metallic turn."
"Droid! Over here!" A gruff voice called from a nearby cell.
I turned, the motion accompanied by a slight squeak that made me wince internally, and saw a man in tattered clothes behind an energy field. Something about his posture struck me as familiar, though I couldn't place it.
"I said come HERE, droid!" He gestured impatiently.
"Oh dear, oh dear," I muttered, the protocol droid's fussy personality bleeding into my own as I shuffled toward him. "I'm not sure I'm authorized to speak with prisoners."
The man leaned close to the energy field, keeping his voice low. "Cut the act. We're getting out of here."
That's when I noticed it, the way he clenched his jaw when he was trying to be serious. The subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth that suggested he was suppressing a grin.
"Finn?" I whispered.
His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing again. "How do you…" He caught himself. "Ash? Is that you in there?"
"The golden metal exterior doesn't exactly scream 'Asher Ardent,' does it?" I responded, the droid's voice making my sarcasm sound even more pronounced.
"Two competitors recognize each other!" Bloombastic enthused.
"Recognition in these challenges often speeds things along or complicates them spectacularly." Professor Zephyr added.
Finn glanced around nervously. "Look, I don't know what's happening exactly, but I'm being held prisoner, and you're apparently a protocol droid. There's got to be a reason we're both here."
I nodded, my metal neck joints clicking softly. "We're in some kind of Star Wars scenario. I think we need to figure out what academic test is hidden in this story."
"Star... Wars?" Finn looked genuinely confused.
Right. Not everyone grew up with Earth pop culture like I did.
"Space fantasy. Evil Empire, heroic Rebels, laser swords, that sort of thing," I explained quickly. "But more importantly, what subject are you being tested on?"
Finn's expression turned serious. "Well, before I was captured, I was trying to enchant this." He pulled a small device from his pocket. "It's some kind of data transmitter, but it's not working. I think I need to enchant it to bypass Imperial security protocols."
"Practical Enchantment," I said, the realization dawning.
"And yours?" Finn asked.
Before I could answer, alarm klaxons began blaring throughout the detention block. Red emergency lights pulsed along the corridor walls.
"Oh my! This is terrible!" I exclaimed, the droid's personality again bleeding into mine. "We're doomed!"
"THE DRAMA ESCALATES!" Bloombastic practically shrieked in delight. "Nothing like an Imperial alarm system to raise the stakes!"
"Mr. Ardent seems to be channeling the droid's anxious personality quite authentically," Professor Zephyr commented dryly.
A door at the end of the corridor slid open with a hydraulic hiss. A tall, lithe figure in flowing dark robes strode through, her face hidden beneath a hood. But what caught my attention was the shimmering purple-black energy that seemed to bend the light around her body.
"That's not standard Star Wars," I muttered.
The figure lifted a hand, and suddenly I felt my metal body lifting off the ground. Not with the typical invisible grip of Force telekinesis, but surrounded by the same purple-black energy field I'd seen during the Scholars' Roulette.
"Is that…" Finn began.
"House Calderon," I confirmed as I dangled helplessly in the air. "Must be the girl I turned her skin plaid."
"The Plaid-Skinned avengers RETURNS!" Bloombastic announced.
"Fascinating adaptation of her family's signature magic to fit the scenario," Professor Zephyr noted.
The Sith approached, her eyes visible now beneath the hood, amber with flecks of purple. "Protocol droid," she said, her voice laced with contempt. "You were scheduled for memory wipe an hour ago. Instead, I find you conversing with a prisoner."
I tried to respond, but the pressure of her gravity field was compressing my vocal processors.
"This one requires special interrogation," she continued, gesturing to Finn. "And you, droid... you'll be disassembled for parts after we extract whatever unauthorized data you've collected."
She flicked her wrist, and I went flying across the corridor, clanging painfully against the wall. Another door opened, and two stormtroopers dragged in another prisoner, this one wearing tattered brown robes.
"Found this one trying to sneak into the command center, my lord," one trooper reported.
The prisoner raised his head, and I caught sight of familiar contemplative eyes. Gavril.
"A Jedi?" The Sith sounded pleased. "This day keeps improving. Put him in the cell with the Rebel. I'll interrogate them later."
The troopers shoved Gavril into Finn's cell, the energy field sizzling as it reactivated.
"What about the droid?" a trooper asked.
"Leave it," she said dismissively. "It's not going anywhere with its motivator damaged."
As they left, I realized I couldn't move my legs. Whatever "motivator" she'd mentioned must have been damaged in my collision with the wall. I was stuck, half-sitting against the corridor wall, able to move only my upper body.
"Asher?" Gavril whispered once the Sith and troopers had left.
"Unfortunately," I replied.
"AN IMMOBILIZED DROID! A CAPTURED JEDI! A REBEL IN CHAINS!" Bloombastic was practically beside himself with excitement. "This scenario has all the elements of a spectacular escape sequence!"
"Or a spectacular failure," Professor Gravitas added coldly.
Gavril looked at Finn, then back to me. "I'm supposed to be demonstrating how to disguise magic as something called 'the Force.' Theoretical Applications of Dimensional Displacement, apparently."
"And I'm stuck in Practical Enchantment," Finn said. "But what about you, Ash? What's your test?"
"According to my systems, I'm supposed to be translating between seventeen different languages to facilitate interrogations. That sounds like..."
"Arcane Symbology," Gavril finished.
"Makes sense," I agreed. "Both involve understanding systems of symbols and translating meaning across different frameworks."
"So we each have our own test, but we're all part of the same story," Finn summarized. "How do we proceed?"
I tried moving my legs again with no success. "First problem: I'm broken."
"Not broken," came a voice from the shadows at the far end of the corridor. "Just temporarily inconvenienced."
Another prisoner emerged from a cell that had somehow opened without any of us noticing. He moved with quiet confidence, his bearing familiar even in this fictional context.
"Soren," I said, recognizing the precise economy of his movements.
"C3PO," he replied with a smirk. "Never thought I'd see the day when Asher Ardent would be rendered literally speechless by a mechanical failure."
"The plot thickens like nutrient-rich soil after a spring rain!" Bloombastic bellowed.
"Interesting casting," Professor Zephyr mused. "The academy has a flair for dramatic irony."
Soren knelt beside me, examining my legs. "Your motivator is misaligned, not damaged. Hold still." With expert precision, he reached into a panel on my side and adjusted something. My legs immediately regained function.
"How did yo…"
"I've been in this cell for three days," Soren explained quietly. "Long enough to learn Imperial droid specifications. Now listen carefully, all of you. I'm the spy you're meant to rescue, but this isn't just about extraction. We need to steal data from the command center."
"Data about what?" Finn asked.
"The Death Star plans," I guessed.
"The what?" Soren looked confused.
"Never mind," I said quickly. "What data are we after?"
"Information about something called 'Project Harvest.' But more importantly for you three, this is how you complete your tests." He turned to Finn. "You need to enchant a communicator to transmit the data through Imperial blockades."
"That's what I was trying to figure out before I was captured," Finn confirmed.
"And you," Soren said to Gavril, "need to use your 'Force powers' to get us into the command center undetected."
"I can work with that." Gavril nodded.
"What about me?" I asked.
"You're our translator," Soren said. "The data is encrypted in multiple alien languages layered on top of each other. We need your protocol droid functions to decode it."
"Symbology translated into linguistics," I mused. "Clever."
"There's just one problem," Soren pointed out. "The Sith Lord guarding this facility. She seems to have a particular grudge against you."
"You have no idea," I muttered.
"The plot grows more complex with each revelation!" Bloombastic boomed. "Enemies becoming reluctant allies in the face of greater challenges. A classic narrative structure!"
Soren outlined his plan quickly. Gavril would use his "Force powers" to disable the surveillance systems and unlock the remaining doors. I would guide them to the command center using my droid's built-in facility maps. Finn would work on enchanting the communicator device along the way. And Soren would handle any Imperial resistance we encountered.
It was a good plan. Which, of course, meant that with my luck involved, it would go spectacularly wrong.
We moved through the detention level quietly, Gavril leading the way with hands outstretched. I could see the subtle shimmer of magic—disguised as the Force—as he manipulated the spatial dimensions around surveillance cameras, creating small pockets where light bent around us, rendering us effectively invisible.
"Impressive application of dimensional theory," I whispered.
"Thanks," Gavril replied. "The same concepts Professor Parallax showed us, only visualized differently."
As we approached a security door, I plugged into a nearby terminal, a strange sensation, like extending part of my consciousness into the facility's systems. "Command center is two levels up," I reported. "But there's a problem. The turbolift is guarded by four stormtroopers."
"I can handle them," Soren said confidently.
"No need," Gavril replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "A Jedi has other options."
He closed his eyes, concentrating. The air around us seemed to ripple slightly. When I checked the terminal's security feed again, I saw the guards looking confused, then abandoning their post to investigate something down the corridor.
"What did you do?" Finn asked, impressed.
"Displaced the sound of an explosion about fifty meters that way," Gavril explained. "Simple application of dimensional acoustics."
"MASTERFUL MISDIRECTION!" Bloombastic boomed in our heads. "The young Jedi shows promise in the ancient art of 'making guards look the other way'!"
"A creative application of Professor Parallax's principles," Professor Zephyr agreed.
We made our way to the turbolift and ascended to the command level. Finn worked diligently on his communicator during the short ride, muttering enchantment formulas under his breath as he reconfigured the device's components.
"How's it coming?" I asked him.
"Nearly there," he replied. "I need to layer three more enchantments to bypass Imperial frequencies, but I'm struggling with the stability matrix."
"Try visualizing it as a pyramid rather than a lattice," I suggested, drawing on what I remembered from Professor Inkwell's lectures. "Energy flows more efficiently through points of convergence."
Finn nodded, making the adjustment. The device hummed to life, glowing faintly blue.
"Well done, Mr. Thorne," Professor Zephyr commented. "Mr. Ardent's suggestion was surprisingly insightful for someone who regularly explodes his enchantment projects."
The turbolift doors opened, revealing a bustling command center. Officers in gray uniforms moved between workstations, monitoring screens and readouts. And standing at the central console, her back to us, was the Sith.
"Stay in the lift," Soren whispered. "I'll create a distraction."
Before any of us could stop him, he stepped out and approached an officer. Whatever he said caused immediate commotion, alarms blared, and officers rushed outside.
All except the Sith. She turned slowly, her eyes finding us immediately despite Gavril's concealment magic.
"Gravity magic lets her sense mass regardless of visual cloaking," Gavril realized.
"Run?" Finn suggested.
"Too late," I replied as the Sith raised her hand.
The purple-black energy field expanded, enveloping the turbolift. I felt my metal body grow impossibly heavy, joints creaking under the strain. Finn and Gavril were similarly affected, dropping to their knees.
"Ah, the Jedi brought friends," she said, approaching us leisurely. "And the defective protocol droid."
She intensified the gravity field, and I heard something crack in my chassis. Warning signals flashed across my vision.
"CRITICAL MOMENT!" Bloombastic declared. "Will our heroes be crushed by the vengeful Sith's gravity, or will the Chaos-Father's unpredictable nature save the day?"
"Either way, the pressure is certainly on," Professor Zephyr added with characteristic dry humor.
In desperation, I accessed a part of my droid programming I hadn't explored yet. Language protocols. To my surprise, I found I could understand every system in the command center. Not just the verbal languages, but the machine languages, the code underlying everything.
This was it. My test wasn't about translating alien languages; it was about understanding and manipulating the symbolic language of the facility itself.
With tremendous effort, I raised my arm and pointed at the central console. "Bistani vetari korpos!"
The Sith laughed. "What was that supposed to…"
She was cut off as every screen in the command center suddenly displayed the same message: EMERGENCY DECOMPRESSION PROTOCOL INITIATED.
The gravity field faltered as she turned in alarm toward the console. That moment of distraction was all Soren needed. He emerged from behind a workstation and tackled her, breaking her concentration completely.
"Get to the main terminal!" he shouted as they grappled. "Download the data!"
Gavril helped Finn to his feet, and they rushed to the terminal. I hobbled after them, my damaged leg servos whining in protest.
"What did you do?" Finn asked as he plugged in his enhanced communicator.
"Spoke to the facility in its native language," I explained. "I told it there was a catastrophic breach in the detention level. It's just a warning for now, but in three minutes, it'll open every airlock in this section."
Across the room, the Sith had regained the upper hand against Soren. She had him pinned against a wall with her gravity field, slowly crushing him.
"DRAMATIC TENSION RISING!" Bloombastic commentated. "The spy faces certain doom while the data transfer progresses at an agonizing pace!"
"A classic moment of divided priorities," Professor Zephyr noted. "Save your comrade or complete the mission?"
The data was only at 60%. We couldn't leave without it, but Soren wouldn't last much longer.
"Keep downloading," I told them, limping toward the Sith and Soren.
"Ash, what are you doing?" Gavril called after me.
What was I doing? I had no weapons, damaged mobility, and a body made of metal that would be pathetically easy for her to crush with her gravity magic. But something inside me, maybe Asher, maybe C3PO, maybe both, wouldn't let me stand by and watch.
As I approached, the Sith turned slightly, one hand still extended toward Soren. "The droid returns for more punishment? How foolish."
I felt her gravity field wrap around me, but instead of fighting it, I let it pull me toward her at accelerating speed. "Oh my! I appear to have lost control of my locomotion!" I exclaimed in my most fussy protocol droid voice.
Her eyes widened a moment too late as she realized my intention. Three hundred pounds of metal slammed into her at considerable velocity, sending us both crashing into a bank of computers.
The impact jarred every circuit in my body. Error messages flashed across my vision, systems failing one by one. But the Sith had taken the worst of it, momentarily stunned.
Soren dropped to the floor, gasping for breath. "Data?" he managed to ask.
"Download complete!" Finn called from the terminal.
"Then let's go," Gavril said, helping Soren to his feet.
My visual processors were failing, the command center becoming a blur of emergency lights and movement. I felt hands lifting me, Finn and Gavril, I assumed, as they dragged my damaged form toward an exit.
"What about her?" Finn asked, nodding toward the Sith who was beginning to stir.
"Leave her," Soren said firmly. "The decompression warning will force an evacuation. We need to get to the hangar before they lock it down."
The rest of our escape passed in flashes as my systems repeatedly failed and restarted. Running down corridors. Gavril using his "Force powers" to seal doors behind us. Finn's enchanted communicator transmitting the stolen data to waiting Rebel ships. Soren leading us to a shuttle in the hangar bay.
As my consciousness began to fade, I heard Bloombastic's enthusiastic commentary: "The Chaos-Father sacrifices mobility for victory! A droid body destroyed, but a mission completed!"
The last thing I saw before my droid systems shut down completely was Soren's face as he helped load my damaged form onto the shuttle.
"When we face each other in the real tournament, Ardent," he said quietly, "I'll be the one to eliminate you. Consider that a promise, not a threat."
Then darkness returned, followed by the familiar sensation of dissolution as the Writers' Guild scenario prepared to transition me to the third and final story.