Burc’ya Narric
Mandalorian of Iron
Burc’ya Narric
SPECIES:
Droid (BX-series Droid Commando)
AGE:
NA
SEX:
Masculine Programming
HEIGHT:
1.91 Meters
WEIGHT:
70 Kilograms
EYES:
White lights
SKIN:
Durasteel and Mandalorian Iron
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STRENGTHS
DROID ENDURANCE: Being a droid, Burc’ya is afforded the nearly unfair benefit of never tiring, though he may get bored with a task, along with never having to eat, sleep, or drink
MANDALORIAN TRAINING: Being raised as a Mandalorian, Burc'ya is trained in most forms of blaster and melee combat, though he may not relish in it as one would expect.
MIXED
KIND HEART: Honestly one of the sweetest sentient beings you could find in the galaxy, though sometimes this may come back to bite him.
WEAKNESSES
SHAKY PAST: The droid has hardly been dealt fair cards in life, and in general, has a lot he regrets. It wouldn't take much for someone to tap into those memories.
PERSONALITY QUIRKS: The programming of a BX still roars through the droid's circuits, while he doesn't like the thought, he is prone to snaps that bring out a much darker, more surrealist, murderous side of him.
APPEARANCE:
A standard fair BX series droid, made of intimidating off brown durasteel, though a section of paneling on the droid's face, shoulder, and back of hand have been replaced with slate grey Mandalorian Iron
EQUIPMENT:
Bi-polar Blaster BMC-150
SHIP:
WIP
3-Z Freighter
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The Mandalorian of Iron
[SIZE=11pt]19 BBY - Somewhere In Coruscant[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Ferrocrete, plasteel, and durasteel, that was the life of the BX-Commando droid that was deployed during the greatest push of the Confederacy during the war. The sky was raining fire, tearing the citizens of the galaxy’s capital away from their secluded lives, the war was not just a thought in the back of their heads anymore, it was something real, it was knocking to the beat of a thousand ioncannons and the rattling of boots, it was calling down with the force of arcing Vulture Droids, it was the might of the Droid General, it was the will of the CIS that came pounding on the corrupt Republic’s front door. No longer was it just the war of genetically engineered clones that Kamino shipped out, it was the war of the family that huddled in their homes as a BX-Commando squad rushed down the street, E-5’s clutched close to their chests. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Every last thing either faction held was being thrown into this conflict, the Republic almost viewing it as rage against the dying of the light, and while the Chancellor was to be taken, while Jedi Knights hollowed themselves in combat, as Padawans were forced into knighthood ages early, and the undercity exploded into a wave of unmonitored criminality, this lone squad moved through the streets of the upper levels. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Commander Fordo, ARC Trooper of the famed Muunilinst Ten, a major threat to the advancing lines of Super Battle Droids that would make their way to Sector Four. He was to be dealt with before him or his squad could make it to the sector, he was to be cut down and then the BX squad was to provide support for the extraction of troops once the primary objective had been secured. With hope, the war would be over by morning.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]This, however, was far from the thoughts of any of the BX droids, they thought in simpler concepts, far from ranting paragraphs and more akin to short quips, despite their increased intelligence opposed to the more lowly B1 series or the rather dull B2, they were commandos, but they still rarely gave time to these existential thoughts. No, as they ran, eventually stopping to secure a base as they began to scale the sheerface of a building, their thoughts were compact. Locate. Eliminate. Secure.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Every now and again, there was a fierce whipping of wind behind the squad as they moved up the building, the screams of civilian vehicles as the planet-city struggled to find some location to flee too. No doubt, just miles away, people would be watching the carnage through their windows in their high-rise apartments, sipping tea while the MP’s attempting to keep riots from breaking out on the floor below. The passage of time, while to a sentient would have felt like ages as foot was placed over foot as the squad of five ascended, was more of a blunt fact to droids. A statement that one couldn’t feel on, it was a simple idea.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]After nearly an hour, they arrived at the level they needed to be, the sky above visible, and the fighters dancing in the sky blue air twisting and bending as their reports called down to the streets below. The assailing rapid fire fire in the streets all around the droids was an easy alert to the fact that the fighting had managed to break this far away from the regional assault, or that whatever form of order there was to the city was breaking down, either way, it hardly managed to the droids. They were to cutoff Fordo and whatever he brought with him on his rush to the Sector, the entire plan was predicated on the lacking of gunships for proper troop deployment. The Republic was stretched thin, and it was nearly insulting that they had issues rallying a force to defend the capital, if it wasn’t for their navy… [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The BX that would live long past it’s prime, the BX that would lay dormant as the galaxy changed around it, was on the far right of the squad as they clanked their way down the desolate street. The endless expanse into the lower levels hanging like a reminder just a pace or two away. If he was organic, he may had been afraid. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]They happened upon Fordo earlier than they had anticipated, coming to a sudden stop as their commander pointed to a cross section of street below them, the ARC Trooper with an accompaniment of five other clones rushing directly underneath them, Fordo chattering away into his comlink, his blaster rifle slung around his shoulder as he moved. The BX-Commander glanced back at his squad, giving a momentary wave forward, and as a single mind, the droids jumped down onto sub-street underneath them, their E-5s raised and roaring out blaster bolts moments after they made land. Two of the troopers were instantly cut down by the blaster fire, but Fordo and the rest of his entourage were lucky enough to avoid the rest of the rounds. Skirting onto his knees, the rifle brought from his shoulder and the stock to his shoulder in one fluid motion as he turned on one heel, ending in a firing position as he let a slur of response shots ring out at the squad. Scorching marks along the Commanders chest, ending the sentence with a double-tap of ion directly to the droid’s head. The DC’s of the rest of the clones began to respond in turn, and the song they wrote with the droids response fire kept a high pitched tone and rapid fire pace. Our BX, however, was unlucky enough to catch the next burst from the ARC trooper, three bolts, one to the shoulder, two to the chest, struck the droid, sending him stepping back. One last round delivered by an accompanying shiny Trooper sent the droid over the edge, his body going limp as he tumbled, further, further and further into the depths of Coruscant, durasteel scraping off of walls and passing speedercars, faster and faster...[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Depths of Coruscant - 8 BBY[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]A well made droid chassis was hard to find in the Undercity, even harder would it be for the droid chassis to remain in well condition after the ruffians had their way with it. Strips of the paneling that made up the droids features were taken, sawed off and torn from the casing with little to no expertise. Random sections, a chunk from the right hand on the back face, the section scorched by blaster fire in the top left shoulder, and the entire right side of the droid’s face were peeled away. It was lucky that the scavenger's didn’t work through the eyes. Whoever made off with such fine metal indeed had a lucky day, whoever made off with it would eat well the moment they found someone to purchase it. Whatever gangster poached the E-5 and vibrosword from the body as well was destined for some form of grandeur. Even as the memory of the CIS began to fade, and Battle Droid models became illegial, and the Clone Wars Era tech became outdated, the resourceful could make the best with what they were given. The resourceful could know something good when they happened upon it. In fact, a nearly intact droid with what seemed to be fully functioning circuits could be quite useful indeed! With a little rewiring, fitted to whatever task a consumer could want! Perhaps not maybe a consumer… maybe it would be a helpful hand around the shop, these were the prevailing thoughts of the Kel Dor merchant Alloss as he came upon the sorry sight. He ran a junk droid shop just off of Imperial Avenue on level 1671, someone to help handle things would be quite useful. The Kel Dor felt as if he had made the discovery of the century as he hefted the droid into a cart, out of the rubbish and debris that he had sat in for years, lopping him into the container as if he was far from one of the most specialized combat models known to man, and began to wheel the droid away. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Clanks Without The Bank, Coruscant Level 1671 - 5 BBY[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]A human, greyed with age, sitting at about sixty-four standard years, with a smaller one in tow, looking around six or seven, wandered into the off-colored shop on the corner street. They seemed to be more well off than most on this level, their clothes were clean, pressed, their hair was trimmed and kept, even if the older gentleman looked as if he was around a week late for a shave. He removed a hat that kept a surprising amount of hair bundled up, the fading yellow lights of the shop nearly coloring it for him. It might remind one of how he could have looked in his prime.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was a long counter that dominated the room, a few chairs sitting to the walls for a waiting period if there was one, but there wasn’t another soul visible in the shop. Directly behind the counter were rows and rows of racks and racks, filled with sections and parts, endlessly scrawling into the back of the shop, it seemed as if the store was bigger on the inside. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]They approached the counter, hitting the button that read simply ‘press for service’.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Far into the back of the shop, in the back office, where a holoscreen was constantly tuned to the latest reality dramas, and empty boxes of take-out were scattered across what were workspaces for taxes and other documents, Alloss was slumped. He had passed out in a chair, his face pressed into whatever slop he had ordered from the Corellian place last night. Suddenly, the light turned on in the room, a buzzing sound qued, and the holoscreen shifted to a camera in the front room. The Kel Dor, suddenly being raised from his stupor, fell out of his chair with a loud thump, muttering and cursing as the meal from last night, cold and viscously blue, poured onto his shirt and pants. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Damnitall, uh-wait wait wait!” He spoke to himself as he brought himself to a stand, wrestling a microphone from the wall and hitting a button, his voice coming over to the speakers in the main room as he spoke, his customer service voice slurred with post-sleep reverbs.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Give us just a moment! An associate will be with you soon!” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The old man and the child looked at one another on the screen as Alloss managed to his feet, attempting to wipe the gunk from his shirt and pants, only achieving the goal of tangling his left hand with whatever the substance was. A long sight came from his methane breather, he [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]needs a place of his own[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], he didn’t have time to rush off to the public baths… unless![/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He quickly moved to the corner of the room, the torn and tattered six feet of durasteel stood in front of him, a soulless look in its eyes where the wiring didn’t splay. There was a shuddering moment before he reached behind the droid, fumbling on it’s back with unwashed hands as he attempted to find the power switch he had installed. Flicking it on, a dull white light slowly came to the droid’s eyes, second by second, wirring sounding as the power began to be restored to the droid. Alloss took a step back, attempting to wretch his left hand free again from the sticky substance it was trapped in, looking up at the droid as it’s head slowly shifted down to look at Alloss.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Hey, Buddy, we’ve got some customers and I’m-” He stretched the blue slime to accent his point. “A bit in a bind… think you could go handle it for me…?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Suddenly, all at once, the rigid stance of the BX-Commando dropped, a much looser, more natural posture being adapted by the droid, and open hands being thrown out as it began to speak, palms to the ceiling in shock that his master even had to ask for his help.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Of course! What type of service model would I be if I couldn’t help out!” The voice of the droid, low and intimidating, never mixed well with such upbeat statements, especially when lose wiring waved and hung from it’s face as it spoke.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]A smile stretched across the face of the Kel Dor as he watched the droid spring to life, best thing that could have ever happened to the little shop.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you, Bud,” Alloss said.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Don’t mention it!” Buddy was already making his way out of the door.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid, ducking and weaving as he made his way from the back of the shop, making sure not to knock anything over, this wasn’t your first week anymore, remember how angry he got the last time you did that Buddy? Right, he was extra careful not to knock anything over, but he couldn’t help the pep in his step from showing as he caught sight of the customers, taking long strides as he went, practically moving like an animated character on children’s Holovids. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Good afternoon you two, what brings you into Clanks Without The Bank today?” Buddy said, moving up to the pair, the old man nearly jumping as the droid approached, he moved fast and was eccentric despite his look, the disconnect was nearly jaring, not to mention a droid selling droids and parts…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The child, well, the child was quite the opposite, letting a yell out of “cool!’ as he rushed up to Buddy’s leg, knocking on the durasteel like one would a door, earning a reverberation of metal. The servos of the droid called as he looked down at the small child, bringing himself down onto one knee as he let a hand lay on top of the kid’s head, ruffling his hair as he looked up to the father.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Well, it’s my grandson’s birthday, and I promised him that when he turned eight I would take him out to get his first droid. Just something simple… more of a toy really... “ The last line was whispered by the old man, hoping the child wouldn’t pick up on it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Your birthday! Eight standard years? Well aren’t you just a precious little one!” The droid sounded genuinely elated, as much as he could, patting the kid’s head as he stood. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I have the perfect thing!” Continued Buddy, holding up a finger to suggest they wait. Turning, the droid walked into the rows of parts, vanishing again. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy dug through the consortium of nonsense, there was a general ‘junker’ section were many of the smaller but glitchy droid models were kept. Smaller scanner droids, automated cleaning units, an assortment such as that… including….[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He returned not five minutes later, kneeling down to the kid again, both hands held behind his back. The kid looking insanely giddy with excitement as Buddy produced a small, black, mousedroid from behind him, sitting the rectangle automation into the child’s hands.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“One black mousedroid! Small thing, they don’t do much but they can be a man’s best friend if you treat them right! Programmable for a single task once you learn to work that kinda thing…” Buddy explained.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The child sat the droid on the ground, it instantly rolling up to his feet and gliding between his legs, suddenly deciding to do circles around the child before ramping on his foot and falling on it’s side, earning a chuckle from the grandfather as he fished out some credits from his pocket as Buddy went to ring them up. The exchange was had, and the pair waved goodbye as they left the store, the child clinging the repair unit to his chest like one would a pet.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy sighed, not an actual exhaustion of air, but a simple mimic of the sound, turning around as he parted the racks, walking back to the ‘office’, swinging the door open just as Alloss was slipping a new shirt on over his head, turning to see the droid.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“How did it go?” Alloss questioned, a hint of worry in his tone.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Perfect! This nice grandpa and his lad came in, sold them that mousedroid you picked up awhile ago! Kid loved it, it was a birthday gift.” Buddy explained, nodding and gesturing with his hands as he went, as if he was dealing the story out like a deck of cards.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Again, under his mask, Alloss was smiling. He reached up and patted the droid’s shoulder. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You did good, think I’m going to have you out there helping me with customers instead of stocking today,” Alloss said.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Won’t that cause issues…?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Doesn’t matter, besides, delayed shipment.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]So they went, as a pair, working the front counter, greeting and helping customers as they came in. Rodains looking for vocabulators, Wookies for Protocol Droids, whatever the situation may had been. They paired off eachother well as they went on, the day slowly fading into night, and Alloss walking up to the front door, turning off the open sign as he walked back, starting to count off the profits for the day.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“It was a good day, a damned good day, we keep this up and we can move up a couple levels! Maybe one day we could even open up doors where we can see the sky,” Alloss dreamed aloud.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy only looked over at him, chuckling, a deep sound, decoded and shaky. “I hope, I always wanted to see starts.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“... mind if I ask you one more favor for the night…?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Nope, what would it be?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“There’s a nice Agamarian joint just down the road, mind going out and grabbing me a bite for the night?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You’ve already placed the order, haven’t you?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And with that, Alloss broke out into laughter, a full noise, one so vibrant he had to stop and grab onto the counter as he doubled over, it was shocking how much the droid knew him, and the deadpan delivery of every sentence made that last line nearly threatening, but he couldn’t help find a comedy in it as the droid gave a dismissive wave as he left the store. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]An organic would have felt the chill in the air, an organic would have shuddered at the scent of the outland that were the lower levels, and organic would have been disturbed, an organic would have missed the lovely music flowing from the window of one of the higher apartments, an organic would have been too distracted to take in the beauty of the passing crowd, the mirage of different species and ways of life, and an organic would have felt fear about their pockets and self, the droid, however, was unafraid, in fact, in the crowd, shifting down the streets of the undercity, is one of the few times the droid felt a true spark. There were others of his ilk in the crowd, not BX models, but other droids, and one was hardly looked at as different, he was another soul, going about his way. That was how he preferred it. He hardly noticed the passage of time as he zoned out, listening to the humming tune of someone in the crowd… dun-da-dun… it was melodic and lovely. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy managed his way to the restaurant, picked up the order, and made his way through the sea of people once more, moving into the store, shutting the door behind him and locking it, and when he made back to the office space, he was greeted by his owner asleep in his chair again, leaning back in it. The droid sat the meal on the table in front of him, laid out the silverware for breakfast, picked up whatever mess was settling about the room, shut out the shops lights, threw Alloss’s coat over his sleeping form so the chill of the night didn’t get to him. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy walked himself back to his corner, let out another sigh, reached back, and flicked his power switch, falling asleep just like Alloss, just like real people do.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Next Day[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy was powered on, just as he had been for the past couple years, but this time, when his vision came to Alloss, his owner had a single finger over his mouth, gently shushing the droid. It was early, too early for the shop to be open.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Some men just came in with blasters, stay quiet, I’m going to deal with this…” Alloss stated it steadily, as if the threat wasn’t real, in fact, it hardly registered to the droid that it was a serious manner at first. Before he could even manage a question the Kel Dor exited the room. The droid took note of the breakfast that had been opened but not touched.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy slowly walked over to the holoscreen, hitting the button to bring up the camera, as it flickered to life three men came into view. They wore ragged and damaged plasteel armor, scavenged by the looks of it, some of them with helmets, some without, and each of them held a blaster of some form, two with rifles and the lead with what looked like… was that a disruptor…? Those were illegal in Imperial Space, it didn’t make sense why these men were here, what they wanted, how they got what they did. These were bad men, Buddy thought, but he only thought bad things like bad men happened to bad people. Alloss and Buddy weren’t bad people, he knew that, he knew they ran a legitimate business, he knew that a lot of the credits they made were shipped back to Alloss’s family, he knew that they had a good reputation with the police, he knew that when the men in white armor stopped by they saw nothing wrong, so why… [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Listen, we know you’ve got a BX back there! Not looking to buy, looking to take, and unless you want your life on the line you’ll drag him out here!” The lead said, pointing the blaster pistol directly at Alloss, who had his hands up behind the counter. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“A BX? We don’t stock anything named BX!” He put emphasis on the letters as he said them. “You won’t get away with this. Capta-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The man fired a blaster bolt directly next to Alloss, slamming into a loose collection of protocol droid arms, sending them tumbling to the ground and Alloss to his knees, a hand wrapping around a copper plated arm just out of sight of the bad men. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Okay! Okay, put the damned blaster down! I’ll take you- Buddy run!” Alloss shouted directly at the camera as he brought himself up, throwing the arm like a spear into the face of the lead gunman, cracking his nose and sending a blood splatter as he lunged over the counter, tackling the man to the ground, the other’s with blasters using them akin to clubs in an attempt to get Alloss off their boss. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Without a moment to think, taking in the screen as quickly as he could, Buddy dived out of the window of the office, he rushed, running for his life, the gunmen sallying out of the front door and around the corner as the droid set off. Blaster rounds echoed around the droid, Ion rounds now, they wanted him for scrap, they couldn’t risk breaking too much. He skirting to the edge of the road, looking down into the next level of under city. Glancing back, the plasteel clad men were right behind him, not even fifty feet, their rounds getting closer to marking their target. There were passing swoops, the entire life that was the block of city underneath him roared with life. He looked back one more time, one of the men was leveling a rifle. Buddy jumped, just as the arc of blue flew overhead, and once again he was falling, tumbling, down into another level.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Coruscant Level 1672 - 5 BBY[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The desolate levels of Coruscant were never a place for a droid of Buddy’s make to begin with, but Alloss had a good reputation, and his business was careful to keep it’s nose clean and stay on the good side of the local police captains, but, here in the undercity, where swoop bike gangs and smegs ruled, where power was given by the barrel of a blaster, none of that mattered. The countless millions that lived on level 1672 never would have known Alloss, never have seen Buddy, it may as well be that the droid tumbled down into another world entirely, as it seemed as if he had as he brought himself out of the rubbage pile he had fallen into in one of the endless alleyways that seems to account for streets on this level. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Life varied so much on the planet, and it varied how it found it’s way to live, this floor seemed to live like rats. Buddy swore that he couldn’t even stretch his arms out in a T formation if he wanted to without touching either of the buildings next to him. As he wandered this monolithic labrinth of a living space, he came to the gleeful conclusion that he was no longer being followed by those ruffians. He couldn’t help but do his best from keeping his mind to fading back to Alloss, he couldn’t help but worry. The last he saw on the cameras was a blaster rifle pressed against the man’s head, but you didn’t hear a discharge Buddy! He had to be alive, he had to be! Why would they kill him… they were after… well they were after Buddy afterall, and the droid had left the shop by the time it appeared that the gunmen were nearing lethal force. Perhaps this was just mental gymnastics to make the current situation more bearable…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He was a good kid, Alloss too, they paid their taxes, they didn’t associate with Rebels, worked close with the local police, celebrated Empire Day every standard year by putting out the banner, closing shop for the day, and watching war footage… Alloss always talked about how he would register for the Stormtrooper Corps if they ever were willing to take non-humans. That never made much sense to Buddy… with how patriotic he was, why wasn’t he allowed to enlist…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]That, all, was just random rantings that the droid was summoning up in order to keep his mind from his current reality, which was stalking through these cramped spaces, stepping over trash and other debris, making sure not to disturb that Ithorian homeless that he was passing, one leg over the other, get close to the wall, give him space, step-step-step, and keep moving down the path, turning this way and that, it felt as if he was being led by the road more than he was deciding which way to go. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]What was that…? A noise, just a little bit behind him, it sounded like a door opening but no voice calling out to him. The droid froze, an honest fear, he knew how people in regions like this viewed things such as himself, he wasn’t going to be scrap today. Without thinking, the droid began a dead sprint, ferociously fast, faster than he knew he could actually move, faster than most sentients… he was a service droid, it only made sense for him to be speedy! If only he was aware of this little trick earlier in his days.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The lights of the street and the homes were blurring as he ran, he was certain whoever his-would-be-assailant was would be miles behind him at this rate, and just as he went to slow down, something hit into his shin, and [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]hard[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], a sharp cracking sounding as the droids momentum went over under and he tumbled, knocking his head off of the duracrete flooring, scraping his durasteel cheek as he slowly came to rest in a cross-junction of darkened alleypaths. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Noises, voices, stepping, the sound of a bottle being broken on a wall, surrounding him, utterly. Buddy brought himself to stand, shifting his form, back and forth, to each of the paths in front of him, each of them with some sounds coming from it, he was cornered, like one of the damned hive rats that Alloss was always shooing from the attic of the shop. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“This one broke my damned bat,” He saw the voice as it spoke, muffled by a bag-like gas mask, the man it belonged to ragged with worn robes and the vestments of a street bandit, a shattered wooden club sitting in his hands as he shook his head.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Think we deserve to be recompensed!” Another voice, behind him, the droid spun on his heel to find the owner, a woman, a stripped down blaster pistol held at her side, the wires and piping exposed to the world. A near-human as far as he could tell, but a slight pinked tint to her skin.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Leave me alone! I don’t want this!” The droid yelled, sweeping it’s hands, waving them as if it would keep the men and women away.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Two voices this time, queuing from Buddy’s left and right, the same line. “It’s speaking, Ekos!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The one holding the shattered bat responded, “I know, and that means it’ll resist…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I’ll give you whatever I can! Just leave me alone!” Buddy was getting desperate, but his voice betrayed his emotions, he couldn’t express the fear that rocked his programming, he had to make it out of this, he had to, things like that didn’t happen to good people like him! Not to Alloss![/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Dropping the shards of the bat, a glint of metal was caught by the light in the gasmasked man’s left hand as he descended upon Buddy like a revenant, the droid barely had time to register the fact that it was a vibroknife. By the time he had, and he had brought his hands up to defend himself, more or less just trying to keep the blade from striking his face, the man ducked under the droid’s guard, and in a flash brought the knife into his ‘stomach’ in three hastened shivs. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy, stumbling back, a hand going to the cut, attempting to keep the wires from spilling out of his new orifice, kept his other hand held high in surrender. He came to a stop as he heard the charge of a blaster behind him, knowing he would be shot if he kept backing up. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Please… don’t do this…” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The man, once again was to come upon the droid, but this time, when he brought the knife up in a reverse grip, as if on instinct, the droid’s hand shot up and wrapped it’s finger’s around his wrist. A moment later, a sickening crushing sound with the assaulting man’s scream muffled by the mask. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Shoot the damned thing!” Ekos barely managed past his pain.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Just as the order was given, the droid pivoted around, holding the man up, limp as a shield, just as three red discharges came from the dark, each of them slamming into the back of Ekos. The man stopped squirming in any sense. His knife falling from his grip, landing into Buddy’s who let it fly with an unmistakable precision down the alley. The gunwoman taking the dagger into the shoulder, causing a yell, a spill of blood, and the blaster pistol to be dropped to the ground. She began to backpedal into the dark.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The twins, one producing a pipe and the other a more refined barbed club, let out a shout of “Boss!” and began to rush the droid from both sides. Dropping the man, Buddy stood, unmoving as they both closed in, the one on the right going to make the first swing, the club never making contact as he took a step back, the nailed head slamming into his compatriot’s shoulder. He wouldn’t of had the time to register that however, as a second later Buddy’s balled fist slammed into the side of the man’s head, sending him away from his tool in it’s new resting place, sending him stumbling hard before falling down, his head slapping against the imobile wall of a nearby home before the body began to convulse.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Turning to the still standing combatant, Buddy brought both hands down hard into the shoulder the instrument was embedded in, slamming down once, the visera sending the bandit into the dirt. Unmoving.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It was after that, did the droid take two steps back, looking across at the scene, down at both of his hands, before falling to a seat, his back pressed against the wall.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“What did I do… what did I do…” The droid began to repeat it to himself, it was as if he was powered off, as if something else took over during those moments. He never wanted to hurt anyone, that wasn’t something he did, that’s what bad men did, that’s what people got taken to jail for, what droid got memory wipes and deactivated for. They were more than hurt, they were… some were… gone, the droid didn’t want to think on it, to process it.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Suddenly, from the dark, a new voice chimed out, this one filtered through a helmet, commanding but inquisitive, suave but underwhelmingly debonair. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Good work, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]beskar'ad, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]dispatched four hostiles while unarmed and scared,”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid looked up from his shame, standing, not even ten feet away, at the entrance to the alley in front of him, stood a man clad in armor from head to toe. It wasn’t plasteel… no it appeared more like traditional metal, but also far from durasteel. Slate raw cast grey for the vast of the design, besides a deep mint shade across the accent of the T visor and various other sections of the armor. A large and intimidating blaster hung from the soldier's hip, along with a rack of thermal detonators. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Leave me alone... “ Buddy said.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I don’t think you’re in the place to be making demands, rogue battle droid breaks out of it’s shop, murders three people, injured one, leads a chase through a populated area… once the Imperials catch wind, well, you’ll only be viewed as a true [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]kyramud.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was something to the way the man spoke, sounds that didn’t make sense to Buddy, it wasn’t Basic, he couldn’t make out what it was. Battle droid…? He wasn’t a battle droid, those were illegal, he wasn’t against the law, he was an Imperial true and true![/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“... what do you want?” The droid, slowly brought himself to a stand, level with the armored warrior.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I could use your services, a good droid to help out in… rough spots.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Like service work…?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You could call it that,”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“What if I say no?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Then you say no,” The man began, turning his back to the droid, starting to swagger to the alley. “I won’t make you, but when a squad of stormtroopers haul you to the nearest compacting facility and you’re turned into next week Bantha Prods, it’s not on me. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Tayli'bac[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy sat there, watching the man, slowly, step by step vanish into the dark. The glints of his armor slowly fading away, bit by bit as he left. A specter in the night, a messenger, maybe… maybe something more, maybe this was how it was supposed to go in the story. Like the legends that Alloss would always tell him, at your lowest, help comes from the most unexpected places…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Wait!” Buddy yelled as he came to stand, the soldier stopping but not turning to face the droid. “Will I get to see the stars ...?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Life With Mandos [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Mandalorians, or [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Mando'ade [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]as they called themselves, had been his saviors. Buddy was loaded onto a 3-Z Freighter and sent to work nearly moments once he had first gotten onboard. For the most part, this involved moving various stock, of dubious legality in and out of the ship during sales and deals. The men he was traveling with, at least to his best assumption they were men, hardly seemed to register the droid as a hard factor other. While he was given orders, and while he followed them with mechanical precision, each of the Mandalorians spoke to him as if he was a thinking breathing creature. In fact, when the Mandalorian Kahtaag brought Buddy onto the ship, he introducted him by telling of the fight that he had witnessed the droid in, in Basic, and then the chatter quickly switched to their native tongue. The droid, despite all of his struggle, couldn’t grasp all of the words that were thrown. He had no sense of the grammar of the language, any of the syntax, all he had was context for the use of the words. He was eventually able to gather the fact that the word [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]beskar'ad [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]was droid, and seemed to be the default form of address they used when talking to the droid. They had yet to ask for his name, or even his make, it seemed as if it didn’t matter. Not in the sense that his name wasn’t important, but it was the fact they already possessed a form of address for the droid, and the waste of time to establish a proper name was unneeded with the current relationship. There was a stark contrast though, with each of them referring to one another as [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]vod[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], a term the droid still had to work out the meaning of. They also had an odd way of going about communication, he was used to people that would hold conversations, and they would go on and on and on, but these Mandalorians were different, they would chatter for maybe an hour straight of full conversation before going silent, and they would remain in that dead quiet state until eventually they would explode with life hours later. They spoke when they needed, said what was required, and left it at that. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid, however, did get to see the stars, all of them, each and every one that he had ever imagined. He still would stop and stare up at the night sky whenever he loaded the cargo, he would stare out the view windows as the ship would take off and scream into the sky as it tore into the heavens, and the droid was always so embellished by the moment that he never would know at least one of the crew members would catch sight of him and smile underneath their visor. It was like a child, and many of the crew came to view the droid as a mascot, and were more than willing to share a chat with it or even a game of Pazaak. The droid, surprisingly, was awful at the game.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was Kahtaag, he was the captain, marked by these odd symbols emblazoned onto the side of his helmet. He held the respect of each and every member of the ship, what he said went through, regardless of what anyone else may think. He ruled the ship like a stern father, things had to go right because he needed them to go right, because it was the best for the crew and the best for them as a whole. He was in charge of what contracts the crew would take on, where they would fly, and how long they would be gone and leave the droid in charge of the ship during their absence.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Then, there was Jandunn, the only one that Buddy had seen without his helmet, a blonde human with fair skin and bright dazzling blue eyes. He was much quieter than most of the group, and took charge of most of the piloting of the ship, but when the man did speak, it was always a joke that would end up putting the crew on the floor. The perfect punchline, well timed deadpans, well placed puns, the man had everything you could want when it came to comedy. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Rhunx, the marksmen, he specialized in long range combat, and nearly was always tinkering with his scope for the simple reason that he always swore he just ‘couldn’t get it just right’ or that something was off about how it was centered. He was all smiles, that one, it was rare to find him in any form of a solemn mood, even during the worst of situations. He liked to tell stories about his life before becoming a Mandalorian, he was originally from Agamar, he rolled with a Swoop Gang for ages before wanting a better life for himself. He still shakes every now and again from an addiction long since passed. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Then there was Gevos, he was marked by being a fairly standard sentient, he was regular with everything, when he would wake up, when he would go to sleep, when he would have his morning Blue Milk, when he would stop by to check on the droid to make sure everything was working right and how it should. He could probably fix damned near anything that could go wrong with any mechanics by simply staring at it hard enough. Things had a way of going, and he would make sure that they stayed that way.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Nadros, Nadros, Nadros… Nadros was the problem child. He would come home rather drunk after every landing, and Kahtaag had caught him more than once in his quarters with some random lady or man of the night that he had taken things a bit too far with. Every time Kahtaag would go into long winded rants about Mandalore, about the greatness we’ve lost, and if he had the choice a man like Nadros wouldn’t be a Mandalorian to begin with. This, however, was always knocked back with a laugh by Nadros. He carried an antiquated weapon, he called it a slugthrower, and claimed to be a CQC specialist. From the stories, he was.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Vactooine System - 3 BBY [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Coming out of hyperspace, the rig that the Manadlorians flew creaking as it did so, the ship had served many masters, it had dealt with many lives and worn many hats, it was sturdy though, and the shudders were less of a worry and more of a feature as the ship came to settle, the green orb hanging in the blackness outside of the cockpit. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Vactooine, an old mining colony, it’s been that for about as long as people have settled this system. Imperial space, so keep an eye out for the boys-in-white.” Jandunn pattered off as he flicked switches here and there, already starting to settle in the cordance for a landing position.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Jobs a simple one, we go in, we find this Captain Henson, we space him, we move on with our life. If we do well on this, the client said that there would be plenty more jobs and credits that could roll our way.” Kahtaag said, crossing his arms as he did.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Thought we were keeping ourselves unaffiliated in this whole scrabble, why we cozying up to that upstart Militia?” Nadros questioned.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Pay, mainly, and at the end of the day, the more chaos there is for the Empire, the more chance us Mandalorians have to reorganize. Civil Wars, strife, that damned Sith, they can only keep us all down for so long. Eventually, the era of Crusades will return, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]ned vode[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt].” Kahtaag was always speaking of the glory days, reciting long winded histories that scrawled back eons and eons in time, of Mandalore the Great, of the Death Watch, the Great Crusades, of the Jedi Civil War, histories that seemed as if they should be lost, as if they should have faded in time. For whatever reason stood, the man was akin to a walking holocron, knowing nearly everything about anything when it came to the galactic past. If you asked, he’d simply say he was well traveled. For Buddy, these stories were mainly lost, but slowly and slowly he was able to catch on the bits he could phase out, the Mandalorian language began to make more sense, ‘Ru Ori’tom’vhetine, ru tsad droten, tion’tuur Darjetii….’ [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The planet was a mess of jungels and branches, with large sections bored out to make way for massive strip mining rigs. The entire planet was slowly being torn asunder over the years, within time, one could assume that all of the woods that marked the planet would be taken away, and all that would remain would be a rotating grey rock and the firing of mining blasters. Kahtaag compared it to the Duxen moon. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Freighter, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Ca'tra, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]as the crew commonly called it, came to settle in a small clearing near the north of the planet, resting down like a bird would after a long flight, settling into the position with a long groaning of its frame and the whine of the engines powering down. The Mandalorians, prepping their blasters and loading a new mag into their slugthrower as they began to prepare for combat. A small hum coming from them as they prep, a very familiar tone to the droid, dun-da-dun, as they checked over one another’s armor, as they sighted down their weapons, making sure that everything was in proper working order. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]As the loading bay opened, and the men marched down the ramp and out of the ship, Kahtaag paused for a moment as they exited, turning to the droid, who stood directly at the top of the ramp. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Wait for me, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]vode. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Come with me.” He spoke to Buddy as he rentered the ship, leading the mechanoid to the storage area. Why would he be leading him out here? Buddy had stood guard before, kept the ship in okay condition, and cleaned while they were gone. Was something off about this assignment? Was he not permitted to wander this time? The myriad of thoughts, many of them unwarranted, puzzled the droid as the pair moved.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You ever fire a blaster before?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“No. Never even held one.” The droid replied.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Let’s hope you don’t have to then.” The Mandalorian said, turning around from the crate that his arms were delved into, producing a blaster rifle of considerable size, it looked clunky and nearly unusable, with a twin linked barrel yet a large gap between the two. The trigger itself was massive, with a section of the tubing for the barrel just exposed to the elements.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“This right here is a BMC-150, you squeeze the trigger and it’ll put down whatever it is you’re aiming at. Only pull it out if you need it.” The Mandalorian continued, pushing the weapon into the droids arms, who looked down at it as if it was a foreign object, something he had never laid eyes on before.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I… I haven’t even a clue... “ The droid began, quickly being cut off.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Let’s hope you don’t have to learn.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]And with that, the Mandalorian pushed past the droid, moving out of the ship, closing the ramp, and starting out into the jungle, and the droid was left alone with a blaster carbine and an empty ship.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Later That Day[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was a hope, misplaced as it was, that Buddy wasn’t going to have to use the carbine, he simply placed it against the wall near the ramp as he went about his daily chores. Cleaning the ship was the main one, sweeping, wiping, doing everything he could to make sure that it was nearly spotless by the time that his friends returned. Friends… that was a term he hadn’t used yet. He stopped in the dead middle of running a cloth over the cockpit window, the word knocking around the durasteel of his head. He turned his head slightly, to the side, catching his own reflection in the glass, his damaged face staring back at him, white eyes glowing. Friends, he thought that term fit them rather well. After all, what else do friends do besides explore the galaxy together, cruising in a decent ship, taking names and kicking ass! That was good enough for the droid, even if he wasn’t allowed to leave when they landed, after all, the ship was all they had! What if someone came to take it. Friends. They were his friends and this was [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]our [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]ship in the mind of Buddy. He chuckled to himself as he resumed his tasks. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Somewhere, in between rearranging the storage area and dusting the crew quarters, there was a sudden sound, three raps in quick succession. It was odd, was something going wrong, something in the engine clicking against the hull? Then it happened again, what could it be? Oh no, if they came back and something was wrong with the ship he would certainly be blamed for it, the droid panicked and set off to find a toolset, when all of the sudden, the raps came again, accompanied by a voice.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Hello? Is anyone home? Your vessel is parked in an illegal zone, submit to a search and move the ship.” It was a commanding tone, but one of undeserved respect, as if the simple act of the man speaking should be enough. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy walked himself to the ramp, looking up at the viewscreen that hung above the door. Standing in the dirt clearing of the landing zone was a man in a fine grey uniform, a cap placed on his head, holding back locks of blackened hair, he was human to be sure, and a multicolored series of buttons hung from the right side of his chest. An Imperial officer, Buddy recognized them from the war holovids, they would charge into battle with a squad of stormtroopers, resplendent, as they fired on Sep holdouts and crushed any opposition to the Order of the Empire. They were the faces of the Army as a whole. Directly behind him was a pair of two white-plasteel armored men, E-11 blasters held tight in their grips. Intimidating helms sat on their heads, giving nothing to their origin, standing tall behind the officer. At the rim of the clearing sat what looked like to be some transport, enough to fit at least a squad of troopers. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]If the droid could shake in fear, he would, his sight settled on the blaster carbine that sat not steps from the entrance of the ship. Maybe he wouldn’t have to use it. He took a step forward, hitting the button to lower the ramp, slowly, so slowly as the Officer slowly came into view, and the lights of the inside of the ship gave an otherworldly glow to the stormtroopers at his side.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Greetings! I am B-3! Servant of the Host of this vessel! What appears to be the issue!” Buddy began, putting on his best protocol droid impression.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You are parked in an illegal zone, per regulation, your ship will be searched, and should there be no issue, you will be allowed to leave.” The man explained.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Oh! Well, if you would, allow me to retrieve my master! He is resting at the moment, but I am sure he won’t mind to comply with the authorities. Hail the Emperor!” The droid didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and stepping back into the ship, hitting the button to close the ramp as he went, the protests of the Officer being drowned out by the grinding of the door. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]They couldn’t search the ship, military grade blasters, spices from all corners of the galaxy, the Milita’s communication information, all of those could spell so much trouble for his friends. More than the droid could imagine, while his mind didn’t go to it, execution would be the punishment, the ship would be taken, and the droid would be disabled, but all Buddy could imagine was some jail time. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]‘No one but us are allowed on the ship, do whatever you need to stop that’ Kahtaag’s words echoed in the droid’s head from when he was first put on this assignment ages back. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy’s eyes settled on the blaster, sitting not even a step or two away, he moved over to it and brought it into his hands. The grip, while seemingly uncomfortable for a human, fit well in the exaggerated hands of the droid, the weight even seemed to be unmentionable for the BX, and the sling that the Mandalorians had added as a fine addition, a simple bow of cloth. The droid looked down at the blaster, it was different from the rushed frenzy in the alley so long ago, this was thought out, methodical, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]premeditated.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] He was conscious, fully aware of what he was considering. That man out there was a servant of the Empire, same as him, same as the… no, not same as the Mandalorians, not the same as his friends. His friends spoke of another world, another way of life, something he didn’t fully understand through his broken Mando’a, but something he couldn’t help but find hope in with the tones they used when speaking of it. Was he an Imperial…? He wasn’t born, he was made, and that date was long lost, and this, these men, past Alloss was the closest he’s ever felt to belonging.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]This was his ship as much as theirs, and that Officer was trespassing.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid took the twin-linked blaster into his hands more confidently, the way he saw Nadros handle his SMG, aiming from down at the hip.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He sighed, turning to face the ramp, his finger going around the trigger, turning the weapon so the barrels were pointing where the door would open, reaching out with his left hand, and tapping the button. The ramp began to creak down again, rocking, shaking as it went, the Officer was looking down, pecking at something, a datapad as it came into view. It happened in an instant, the droid brought down on the trigger of the blaster, and the weapon began to roar, the top barrel firing off a bolt directly into the man’s chest, quickly followed by one from the lower barrel that slammed into the upper stomach of the Officer, the rate of fire on the weapon was absolutely stunning, it cycling two more times as Buddy brought it to bear against the stormtrooper to the left, the human’s reaction time just off enough for him to be lit up before he knew what was happening, scorch marks exploding from his armor as he was sent to the ground, the officer stumbling down after him. The other trooper raised his blaster, a round making home directly into the wall next to Buddy’s head, which sent him scouring into the doorframe for cover. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The stormtrooper yelled into his coms, the sound of his voice and retreating footsteps indicating he was moving back for cover as well. The droid leaning his head out of the doorway to catch sight of the man falling to behind the transport with around four more troopers pouring from the vehicle. Buddy leaning the carbine out and let rip, echoes of rounds catching the ground and metal of the transport as the troops piled out, the suppressive fire sending them behind the transport instead of rushing the droid’s position as they would have preferred. His shots kept going wide, the weapon felt off, he brought his stance down to one knee, keeping his blaster trained on the edge of the left side of the transport. Waiting, moment by moment, the scene was suddenly quiet besides the hum of the vehicle’s repulsors, moment by moment, he knew what he was looking for. Against the green background, the droid was able to make out the near exact moment one of the trooper’s helmets went to peek around the corner, the second the visor was in sight, the droid let three rounds burst from the blaster, two hitting the metal but the final scoring a direct shot to the dome of the trooper’s helmet, sending him to the ground as well. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It was at that point that one of the trooper’s popped from the right side, letting unaimed rounds report at the ship, sending the droid once again into cover. As Buddy sat pinned, two troopers, one from the right and one from the left, moved under the cover of suppressive fire to a random section of rock and stone closer to the droid’s position. Leaning out, their response fire nearly claimed Buddy, one of the bolts of red burning directly next to the droid’s foot. Another burst of rounds from the droid, however, brought to life more bursts of sparks from the trooper on the right. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]An awful sound qued, a long screech of mechanical movement, the droid dared to look out, and saw the blaster cannon that sat ontop of the transport swerving it’s way to aim at the ship. The droid barely managed to slam onto the ramp-button before the first round called out, a horrible screech akin to an eruption, it’s impact shaking the ship. Two more of those heavy rounds, one after another, they intended to blow the freighter up where it sat. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]This was not how he would go, the droid stood, slinging the carbine over his shoulder, and moved to the edge of the ship, pushing crates and chairs and tables out of the way as he made a direct bead for the laser cannons that marked each side of the ship, bringing to life the monitor and joysticks that controlled the one on the aft of the vessel. The screen showing a side shot of the scene, the transport firing periodically into the ship, a large explosion of spark coming with every impact, and the stormtroopers slowly backing up with blasters trained at the ship as they went, moving back to the transport. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]With a simple flick of a switch, the laser cannon came to life, rotating ever so slightly to level itself with the RTT before the droid pulled down on the trigger. The round, which was meant for space combat, intended to down starships from a good distance of a couple miles, burst into the transport, slamming into the dead center mass and causing a detonation that rocked the transport, nearly tipping it, sending bent and ruined metal flying, the troopers that were around it, that being all that remained, dropping and flying due to the concussion of the explosion, two more times would the droid fire on the RTT, melting the very material it was constructed of, leaving the vessel looking akin to a decaying breadbox by the time he took a step away from the controls.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Buddy walked his way back up to the ramp, hitting the button to open the door, the sight coming into view. The bodies, the smoke, the wreck of the vehicle. This was something else, this was his new life, he wasn’t just dealing out parts in a shop anymore, he was… he was living.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid sat down, and waited. Eventually, out of the clearing came shapes, armored silhouettes, but not the bright white of the Empire, but the dulled grey of clan Narric.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Haar'chak[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]… what happened here?” Rhunx asked, careful to make sure not to step on the pieces of trooper and transport that were littered around the entire clearing.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Looks like they beat the hell out of my ship.” Jandunn said, more bewilderment than concern. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It was one thing to hear a story about the droid shooing away some kids or random riffraff that happened upon the ship, this was something utterly different, utterly unexpected, this was something they would expect of one of their own. Trained Imperial Stormtroopers laid to waste, dropped in a firefight where they undoubtedly would have held every advantage they could have. Stepping carefully, the squad noticed Buddy simply sitting at the top of the ramp, his eyes down in his lap. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Beskar'ad![/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] What happened here?” Kahtaag interrogated as he broke into a jog, making his way to Buddy. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was a long period of silence, the droid looking down for nearly a full half-minute before shifting his gaze upwards, locking Kahtaag’s eyes, though the droid could have never told through the T slit of the man’s helm. Finally, Buddy spoke.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“They tried to get into the ship. I stopped them.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Kahtaag smiled, a wide grin, almost wishing the droid could see it as he reached out and patted the droid’s shoulder, three heavy knocks.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You did good, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]ad'ika[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], you did good…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Tanglewoods, Bellassa - 3 BBY [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Kahtaag and Buddy walked side by side, deep inside of the Tanglewoods, a large sprawling forest on the planet of Bellassa. Far from war, far from conflict, the predators would leave most things in peace. It seemed like the furthest place that a Mandlaorians and a Battle Droid should be. Thought Kahtaag had suggested they spend some time in a world such as this, and the camp they had set up needed firewood, thus, both Kahtaag and Buddy had the axes settled on their shoulders as they walked.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Take care of your squadmates, even if you don’t need warmth, they do.” Kahtaag explained, giving reason to why the droid was brought out with him.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You’re invaluable due to your disposition,” He continued. “As a droid, you don’t get tired, you don’t hunger, you don’t get cold. Use that. Don’t make the failable members of your squad do all the heavy lifting, only some. You can run a planet’s equator and fistfight a rancor in the same day, we’re a bit more susceptible to the flesh.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Use what I was made with, got it.” Buddy acknowledged. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Kahtaag slowed the pair as they approached a tree, that looked quite like every other tree that they had encountered during their venture, but for whatever his reasoning was, he stopped, looked it up and down, and with a simple statement of ‘this’ll do’, he placed his axe head at the base, brought it back, and slammed it home.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You call yourself a service droid? You do a lot of labor like this back home?” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Not really, I worked retail, sold droids and droid parts.” Buddy said as he began on his side of the tree. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“So a cozy life? Suppose that must be nice, a good nine-to-five, getting spare time. I’d go mad though if my job didn’t involve holding up Rodians at blaster point.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“It was a nice life, my owner made sure of that. I stocked a lot…” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“This owner of yours,” Kahtaag began as he neared the 2/4 mark on the tree. “He ever have anything in particular he called you? Any make or model…?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid paused for a moment, trying to recall if he had ever mentioned a model, the only thing that came to mind was what the gunmen had called him. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Never a model, but he called me Buddy.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Buddy? Basic won’t work here… how’s about… [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Burc'ya[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. A proper Mandalorian name.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Burc’ya… koor!” [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]The droid replied, he would be smiling if he could, he knew that Kahtaag would be. He knew it translated as ‘friend’ all the same, and with his new life, far from the life of a stocker, and with how divorced he became from Galactic Basic culture per day, a new name wasn’t the worst suggestion.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Mandalorians have a set of guidelines we live our life by,” He said. “The [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Resol'nare[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], some of which I think you’ve managed just from exposure. Speak the language, which you’ve managed to pick up on rather well during your time with us. Defending oneself and family, which goes without saying. Contributing to the clan's welfare, which you manage on a daily basis. Six tenants and you’ve managed three without trying. Most Mandos shun droids, but something is telling me that you’re far from a normal droid, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Burc’ya.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“What have I yet to do?” The BX asked.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Two of them, none of us here have managed yet. Raising your family as Mandalorian, none of us have family. Going to war when the Mandalore calls on you would be the second one. The tenants only apply if you are [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]capable [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]of them. A disabled veteran wouldn’t be expected to rush for his blaster for Mandalore, someone who couldn’t physically produce family or have the means to adopt wouldn’t be expected to raise a family, despite being heavily encouraged. Though, each clan takes these in stride, there’s not much organization to us anymore.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“And the final tenant?” The droid asked, his axe finishing the tree, the wind catching the monolith and swinging it to the side, crunching as it came down and collapsed into the clearing next to them.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Wear the armor of a Mandalorian. You’re pretty much all metal anyways. Besides the sections exposed there. I was talking to Gevos about getting you outfitted with some [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]beskar, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Mandalorian Iron plating to cover up those wires there.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It all seemed to settle in for the droid, all at once, exactly what this conversation was about. It was a way to become more than friends, more than a service droid, more than an ally. It was to become family.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Are you offering me to join the clan…?” The BX asked, letting his axe fall into the ground next to him.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I’m offering you the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]jatne manda [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]you’ve never had, but I won’t force you into it.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“I would want nothing more.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The Mandalorian, took a step to the droid, held out his hand, took the droid’s, pulled him close, and wrapped his arms around the durasteel frame in an embrace.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Welcome home, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]vod.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Extragalactic Space, Imperial Station L-993 - 3 BBY[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]To the newly named Burc’ya Narric, clad in a combination of durasteel and beskar, his carbine now a permanent fixture, more Mando’a coming from his vocabulator than Basic now of days, the concept of raiding an Extragalactic Research Station, taking some data, and delivering it to a General Kota seemed like an easy task. Nothing too fancy, something the squad should have been able to start and finish nearly before it started. However, now the droid and his Mando compatriots were running through the halls of the station, firing backwards periodically into the mass of pursuing Stormtroopers as they made their way to the hanger bay to find salvation. An absolute cacophony of blaster rounds followed them with every step they took, and the issues of the droid’s carbine’s pack size became more apparent with how many times he was made to reload the weapon as they went. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The squad managed to break through, their feet pounding against the hanger bay floor as Jandunn rushed ahead to open the ramp and get the engines fired. E-11’s calling over and over behind the squad as they ran, the commander shouting “go, go!” over and over as they rushed. A sudden cry of pain came from the near the back of the group as they neared the ramp, now fully lowered and the engines primed. It was Gevos, a blaster round had caught him in the back of the leg and now he was down on one knee in the middle of the hanger, a good sprint away from the rest of the group. He shifted, sitting down, firing at a breakneck pace as he shifted back. Squadlead nearly began to make a break for him before another round from the mass of white armor and black body glove marked his chest, and then one more to the T section of his helmet. The engineers body went limp.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Chakaaryce![/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]” Burc’ya yelled, his BMC rolling rounds across the general lines of troopers, the only thing stopping him from rushing their position was a hand on his shoulder, tugging him inside of the ship as he fought against it with every fibre of his being, clawing at the grip, he nearly managed out of the ship before being yanked back as the ramp shut. The ship exploding into hyperspace out of the hanger not a moment later. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It all happened so fast.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“What in Hell’s name was that!” Rhunx was screaming, he took his helmet off, showing off the blue skin and red eyes of a Chiss, his black hair wild and untamed.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You saw what happened! The Operation went bad!” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“You call that bad? Gevos is dead, damnit!” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“What did he just say?” Came the yell from the cockpit, utter disbelief. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“We at least got the data,” Nadros stated.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“To Hell with the data!” Rhunx again.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“He died as a Mandalorian should, blaster in hand!” This time, it was the droid, turning to the group from the door. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Do I think each of those Imperials deserve the same fate for what they did? Of course, but yelling and tearing at one another won’t fix anything. He passed, he passed as we all should hope to.” It was an odd thing to have a droid lecturing you on death and fate.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Suddenly, the ship rocked, not a steady or well thought out movement, but several times, stopping and going, over and over, until suddenly everything went quiet, dangerously quiet. Each of the Mandalorians glanced at one another before suddenly rushing to the cockpit, Jandunn sitting in the cockpit, his face in his hands, helmet also off, he was staring into the utter blackness of the void, the galaxy in view. No hyperspace distortion.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Jan… what’s going on?” Nadros asked.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]As an answer, Jandunn reached over, flicked a switch once, twice, three times, nothing. He turned his chair around, to face the group. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“We’re dead in the water.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Another group would have assailed him with questions, such as why, can we fix it, what do you mean, but Mandalorians, instead, were a very accepting group, the first question being a simple one.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“How many provisions do we have?” Rhunx asked.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Answering for the pilot, Kahtaag said “About two months worth, if we ration, three.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“How long until we get back to habited space?” Rhunx asked.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“With just our base engines, a couple hundred standard years…” Jandunn said.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was a long dull silence that overtook the group, a settling in of the inevitable, and the droid, left to realize he would still be standing when the ship managed to return home.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“So! Who wants to play a couple hundred games of Pazaak?” Jandunn asked, tapping his cards against the consol, looking up at everyone with a genuinely curious face. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Lost, Adrift[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]There was an uncomfortable acceptance that fell into the crew, especially once they began to pass into the afterlife, none by the blaster or blade, but mainly to starvation, though they refused to show signs of it during their final moments. They would be walking about the ship, normal the night before, and then the next morning they would be sitting there, unmoving inside of their armor. The captain would do the honors of sending them out the airlock with a few soft words reserved for the passing, Burc’ya electing to stay out of the room, he felt like the only one who felt the weight of it as they passed. First Nadros, then Jandunn, and finally Rhunx. After what felt like ages of months, two and a half is as long as the rations lasted, the droid and Kahtaag sat at a table, playing Pazaak as if nothing could ever go wrong in the world. As if they weren’t the only ones left on the ship. Denial and ignorance became a way of life, and the lack of note of anything during the passing, nor the note of the passing themselves, was just another mark of Mandalorian life, death was natural. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Burc’ya, would you mind… telling me a story, I’m certain you’ve got plenty locked up in there…” He said, his breathing betraying his strength.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Kahtaag, I’ve got nothing that would int-”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Nonsense! I’m certain you’ve got something.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“... alright, well, this was a tale that my owner told me, Alloss, he said it was the same story his father would tell him when he asked,” The droid began.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Ages ago, in a place that time forgot, away from the Jedi, the Empire, away from the Sith and the wars, where no Rancors dared to tread and the weather was fair, was a King. This King ruled a Realm that was eons old, and the crown had been passed down from generation to generation of his family, however, the weight of it grew heavier and heavier with each passing year, with each heir. Eventually, the weight grew too much for the King to bear, it would compound his skull and ache his mind, the worries of his citizens grew distant, the concerns of his people no longer a worry, his wife’s wishes another world away. And thus, his world began to fall to ruin, things broke and were left unfixed, the army fell disorganized, and the local Barons took what they wanted from the people. Why, he would ask, is my nation such a wreck? He sought out the wisest of men, that lived in a cave guarded by a fire-breathing beast, with his steed and blade, the king left the castle to face the challenge, alas, but his crown weighed him down far too much, and time and time again he was defeated by the beast, but the king, determined to meet the wiseman, kept his quest! He raged over and over, until the dragon grew tired and fell asleep, the king much too a bother to keep up with the worry. He pressed on, and found the wise man, and when he asked why his realm suffered so much, the wise man said ‘a realm is reflected by the state of it’s owner, are you happy?’ and the king began to weep. The king never wanted to rule, he told the wiseman, but it was forced on him, that his father was king, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father, ever since the planet had been spawned. The wiseman smiled, and asked the king if anyone else would wish to hold the title, there was, a duke in the south, his people prospered and lived happy existences, and he enjoyed ruling, but the crown was not of the duke’s family. The wiseman told the king ‘no one care’s who your father was, but rather who you are’, and left the king to his thoughts. The Duke, given the crown, brought prosperity back to the people, and the king, he settled down in a nice home on a lake with his wife, spending his days walking the fields and reading his books…”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]By the time the droid had finished, pulling himself from the tale, he noticed that the Mandalorian had slumped onto the table, unmoving. The droid reached over, cautiously, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder and pushing him ever so slightly, he didn’t stir.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Lugging his captain onto his shoulder, the droid took him to the airlock, laying him down onto the floor, crossing the man’s arms. The droid knelt down, leaning close to the man, before clicking the durasteel of his head against the Mandalorians helmet. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]buir, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]thank you…” He stood, taking a few steps back, before shutting the door and pressing the button, the collapsing of air letting the droid know that the deed had been done.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The droid turned, walking over to the cockpit, acceptance as a virtue, he took a seat, staring out into the blackness, all of the stars he could ever want now, for as long as he could want them, and as he communed with the great void, he recited.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum, Jandunn, Rhunx, Gevos, Nadros, Kahtaag, Alloss, nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Rentering Galactic Space - 858 ABY [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]A lone freighter, drifting in the vast ocean of stars, an antiquated droid at it’s helm, carrying the stories of ages long gone, carrying the souls of those long dead, derelict, slowly called out, a distress signal bouncing into the sector, over, and over, and over…[/SIZE]
KILLS:
NA
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
NA
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ROLE-PLAYS:
THE LAST OF US
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OOC: This is still, in a way, a WIP article, I would like to flesh out the formatting more, but for the most part, this is him. He stands as my favorite OC I have ever designed, hoping he can find a nice place to call home in this new and wondrous galaxy.
--- wendigo kid