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Rafma stood by one of the many droid assembly lines surrounding him in the factory. He watched as the mechanical fighters gradually took shape, first the legs, then the arms, then finally the head. B1 battle droids were cheaply produced in the millions by the Separatist Alliance in the hopes the droids would overwhelm the Republic's clone army. Rafma was not convinced. The droids may have out-numbered the clones 10 to 1, but the droids were weak and stupid, lacking the higher thought clones possessed which would allow them to identify traps, make split second decisions and more. 

Next to Rafma stood a super tactical droid. The droid had been charged with marshalling the freshly produced droids against the impending Republic invasion, the droid was able to calculate the odds of winning a battle in seconds and devise competent battle plans in no time, but it lacked the ability to think beyond it's programming or to plan with creativity. Rafma turned to the tactical droid "I hope you have prepared a strategy. The Republic is advancing on our position even as we speak." he said to the droid. The droid stared at the Sith for a split second as it calculated a response "Do not fear commander. Our forces out-number the enemy by 10-1. The factories are producing soldiers at maximum speed. They will be overwhelmed by our forces with ease, I predict we have a 95.6% chance of victory." the droid replied in the flat, mechanical voice all droids spoke in. Rafma nodded at the droid "Very well. Make sure your prediction is correct, losing these factories would be a major blow to the war effort." After speaking, the Sith dismissed the super tactical droid to continue marshalling his forces as he searched through the force for any lifeforms in the factory.