@[member="TK-5914 Shank"], @[member="Matsu Ike"]
The storm commando and the tornado conjuring Jedi Master were not alone. Finally, after a not particularly eventuful journey through the less populated streets of Atho City, Moira had found a contest and an opponent that was interesting to her. As a murderous killer droid who subscribed to a Blue and Orange morality, Moira would not judge someone for war crimes. After all, even as a human she had been what could be called a sociopath - she was the one who had directed the Republic-backed terrorist insurgency on Contruum. Moreover, in the long term she wanted to purge and process all organics.
So she could appreciate it if a Jedi had the cold-blooded ruthlessness to butcher an entire city. Same if a Jedi dropped a moon on a planet to kill everyone. Or Imperials performed a false flag op to make it look like Jedi had done that. Nonetheless it was amusing how the Jedi claimed the moral high ground and wrapped themselves in the cloak of righteousness.
So as the storm commandos were thrust through the air like ragdolls to smash into buildings the Butcher of Contruum entered the scene. Now they only needed Butcher Kerrigan to fly by and it would be a party. Of course, that woman could never hope to match her! One storm commando seemed to still combat effective as Moira came across the corner in time to see the troopers get slaughtered. The powerful wind seized her as well as she raised her boltgun and though she tried to dig into the ground with her heavy combat boots she was violently pulled into the air and thrown towards the building. However, the superior reflexes of a machine paid off and in mid-air she spun and, gripping her bolter tight, squeezed the trigger, the powerful weapon barked as in succession three explosive rounds shot out towards Matsu, while her free hand tosed an anti-force user frag grenade at the Jedi Master as she landed on the rooftop, the velocity and necessary force of the throw expertly calculated by machine processing power.
Moira spun and was thrown across the roof, rolling quickly as she impacted upon it. The machine could not feel pain, but diagnostics told her that some important parts would need repairs. A damaged hand where some skin had burst examined her belt and pouch. The special package Rave Merrill had given her was still secured. The hidden flechette pistol, the rune-covered dagger she had carried since her Artam days, both endowed with the taint of the Zerek Strain. The Terminatrix was designed to kill and forcers had become her favourite individual targets. Jedi, Sith, anything in between, their force religions did not matter to her one bit. If she were human and a few years younger, one might say she sought them in battle for the lulz, as terribly puerile as that term was. She quickly jumped to her feet and as Shank went on his death charge she advanced likewise, coming in from the flank, firing both with her bolter and the sonic pistol, expression utterly impassive, eyes merciless as she homed in on her target.
