Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Heavy Metal Symphony





"Still as whiny as ever...." The old coot said as Deryn washed the insides of his gloves, not wanting to let the smell of blood linger inside the metal suit of armor he lived in. He gave it a thorough washing, scrubbing it with his other hand vigorously to make sure that there wasn't going to be any nasty human blood in the complex electronics he had layered inside. If the blood hadn't been enough to tic Deryn off, the old coot's constant pestering was.

"Listen, I'm not going to take any insults from some half-rotten human half-droid perverted Ripperdoc." He snapped around, pointing a snarky finger and a sarcastic expression, though unseen through his helmet. "You better watch your metal tongue before I rip it out and feed it to you!" He threatened, though with the voice he had been practicing to actually make himself seem less threatening, it was as scary as a Gizka in an electric cage.

"Its been over sixty years since I've met you and your insults still sound like an asthmatic Gundark." The old man opened up a can of fizz as he sat down back to the storefront. "Sixty years and I've still got it." He remarked about himself. Deryn had been his most complicated work, implanting several cybernetic links to him and his armor, allowing him to control armor and anything interlinked to it through his nervous system, which was why he was so fast in Power-Armor, it was why he was one of the best Bounty Hunters. Still, the problem was that Deryn's condition was and still is a secret of sorts and the only person with the skill and knowledge along with the loyalty to Darkwire to repair the Cybernetic Implants was this old Ripperdoc. Deryn's talent in machinery and engineering, all things physical, was limited by from actual cybernetics because of his lack of study on biology. More specifically, his unique biology, special even among his own race, who were difficult enough to perform on, in contrary to what one would think of a race that could heal from almost any injury.

"Keep talking and you're going to lose it." Deryn would finish with the cleaning. The amorphous blob that he called a hand would slip back into the gauntlet, taking shape inside as he twisted the piece into place, connecting the two once more. It took a moment to power-up, Deryn stretching the fingers of the hand to test the dexterity just a bit. Blood inside the armor didn't threaten the integrity of it at all, no, it was tougher and more resilient than that. It was just that if it dried up around the joints like his fingers, there'd a noise that only he and his specie could hear with their sensitive ears. "How old are you anyways?

"I'm old, kid." He would reply simply as he chugged down the juice. Their last customer wanted nerve implants to replace the ones they've lost in a fire. Scary, that one, lots of lost skin, though a rather amiable man. Of course, he thought the same of Deryn when he first saw him. A monster with no form that, if he were to gain one, would become a killing machine even the Jedi could fear. And yet here Deryn was, bantering with him in his shop. He hadn't considered in the beginning that the monster he saw before him was just a child at heart - that he grew up without ever living. "How are your receptors?"

"Good. I can feel its a bit slower than usual but that may just need some power-tweaking." Deryn had come back to his shop for repairs. His recent hunt had him board a ship from the outside. It took off and out of the atmosphere as they disabled the Warhawk before hand. When he finally got inside, they thought they could immobilize him by using a very powerful Ion Gun to shut his electronics off. His armor is naturally resistant to it but the firearm still got to him, shutting off his Power-Armor but more importantly, damaging his Cybernetics. When they had him grounded, they thought he couldn't move because of the weight. They were dead wrong.

"You know where my tools are if you want to fix it." This old man was the only one that could fix his cybernetics, at least to his knowledge. Deryn came to him and denied him repairs with a smile. Deryn was furious - what did he mean he wasn't going to fix him? Deryn was often regarded as a patient man but when it came to his armor and whatever was part of it, he was particularly on edge. However, the old coot instead offered service in exchange for service - Deryn was to be his helper for a few days. The repairs needed a few days too, anyways. With that, Deryn agreed.

It has been five days since then - Deryn was mostly repaired. The pnuematic strength actuators were working well now but he was still somewhat more sluggish when compared to his usual breakneck speed. In those five days, Deryn had been helping the old Ripperdoc with his patients, mostly on the cybernetics themselves. Deryn, though the old coot wouldn't admit it, was marginally better at him in that degree, though implanting the cybernetics were still something beyond Deryn. Now, they were waiting for their next customer.

G 3 M 1 N 1 G 3 M 1 N 1



 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?

T--Wageningen_UR--divider_purple.png

... ... ... 2 7 . 5 - M I N U T E S - P R I O R ... ... ...


A speeding runway would see G3M1N1 rocketing through the air atop a speeder transport plummeting the speeder from its course into the ground below, slamming and rolling as the contents within, including 4 mercenary guards would bounce around like they were little more than cargo, riccosheting within the confines of the durasteel tomb while G3M was lucky enough to be thrown from the window only to land a couple of dozen feet away... Her hands and legs would pulse with micro repulsarlift notes flitting her through the air to right her and begin to arrest her movement in such a manner as to regain control, landing on her hands and feet like a cat as she would allow herself to slump against the ground, playing possum to see exactly who had intercepted their shipment.

It would not take long for the enigmatic creatures hounding G3M1n1 and her cargo like Vornskyr to be upon them, whatever their intention, nobility or subtlety did not seem to be part of the enigmatic equation that left two fine security officers as little more than scrambled eggs within the confines of the armoured van they had been traveling in that now served to be their coffin. Three Trandoshans would exit a vehicle some meters away from the wreckage. The Trucks' corners having collapsed in on themselves from the weight and force of the barrelling spin it had been lurched into made the speeder truck look more like a wreck one would see in a junkyard, from a once magnificent machine built to withstand blaster bolts. However, as G3M1N1 lay there, awaiting for her would be hunters to approach to investigate G3M1N1s' twisted body.

"Ha! They Popped on the insssside!" One of the Trandoshans would vocalize to the other, letting out a gurgling laugh that would be enough to curdle the blood of a living creature nearby. G3M however would simply allow her systems to operate on power saving mode while she would lay in wait, feigning death. "Keep it down sssstupid. There'ssss a droid over there... could be ssssecurity" Its partner would speak, moving a little closer, edging cautiously blaster weapon at the ready as the other had begun to enter the vehicle to gather the resources which they had committed murder for.

"The EMP would have fried itsss sssircuitsss. Chuck it in the van if it looksss intact." The anonymous reply emanated from the back of the van as G3M could hear the foul creature rummage through their belongings like a packrat, no doubt pushing aside the gore without hesitation. Evil in its truest sense, it grated on G3M, she could feel the anticipation build up within her as the other creature relaxed and moved closer and closer to G3M's scratched, sparking and motionless body. The creature would let out an excited cry, informing its ally that she seemed to be an advanced model, mostly intact and probably worth something good to their buyer. Reaching down with splayed claws to grip one of G3M's exposed legs. He was close, so close she could smell his breath through her nasal sensors. Blood, death, decay...

Gem would flare to life, the whirring sound of her powering up would roar within her like a jet engine as the Trandoshan would lurch backwards, but he was far too late. The Micro-repulsar at her foot would activate, speeding her up with such force she would kick out for the creature's nearest ankle with her right leg. Connecting and hearing a sickening snap followed by a cry so loud it began to attract the attention of others. Rounding off her spin, G3M would place a hand on the ground behind her, rounding off her spin and vaulting backwards to her feet in a graceful arc, bending her knees coiling like a snake as the Trandoshan attempted to prevent himself from falling. Gripping his blaster, fighting through the pain and attempting to aim it at the Cyborg before him, shouting for aid from his ally. TARGET IS WITHIN 2.5 METERS, MELEE ADVISABLE... G3M1N1 would rush the creature, kicking forward and reaching out for his gun with one hand the creature's face with the other, the hum of electricity blaring to life as G3M would make contact creating a circuit between the creature's arm and the far side of its head.

ZAP

When the other creature deigned to reveal itself after its friend slammed lifelessly into the ground, eyes crimson from the high voltage current, G3M would stalk the cold blooded creature, her IR vision tracking the cold blooded being as it moved to round the bend, Aiming her hand in its direction as four barbed stingers launched from G3M's fist, slamming into its face and neck as the long conductive wires would trigger and the foul creatures' world would fade to black.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
It had been a long day, but G3M1N1 was beginning to lose power, sadly the crash had done a number on her. The repulsars peppered across her body were meant to help her prevent the worst of impacts or avoid damage, but the fact of the matter was, she was still thrown from a moving vehicle and had sustained some moderate chassis damage. Nothing that would likely need replacing, but she could feel that some things had come loose and likely needed some touch up work. But that would require finding someone with the necessary tools. Fleeing the scene on one of her assailants' speeder bikes, she attempted to chart a location on their holomap to the nearest junker or scrapartist that had themselves listed for droid repair. Using her own systems to sort them by quality and it seemed that there was one that wasn't too far from her prior location... Luck seemed to be on her side for once, so with a manufactured and hollow sigh she would swerve her speeder in that direction, hoping that he would accept the walk in business.

No more than half an hour had passed since the incident when G3M would arrive at the parlor, pressing the door open and staggering in like a wounded gazelle it seemed the speeder ride hadn't exactly helped. She could feel the power from her cores not reaching the left side of her body which had begun to feel heavy. Her voice strained as she entered the room, wearing a a hooded leather jacket which hung loose, patched and rugged looking as was the rage in undercity street wear. Denim-like jeans covered her lower body, but beneath the apparel and the bracelet she wore, it could be seen that a slimmer pilots bodysuit appeared to be underneath as a form of environment protection. Her mid length synthetic hair appeared to be wet from the condensation of steam she had flown through on her way here in a rush, the blue-violet highlights at the tips of the white strands gave some personality to the synthetic fibre, while the girl had a notibly doll-like appearance even with the silicon skin stretched across her form. the mobility lines along her face and especially hands made her look like a marionette more than a droid.

"Hey, um.... if you could spare a moment..." Her voice would echo sheepishly. "I think I'm in need of a little help..."

To the learned observer, it would be apparent pretty quickly that her body, the materials she was composed of which could be seen betwixt the gaps in her skin that she was a model made for combat, but she had certainly gone through an ordeal recently. Her meek facial expressions and shyness however didn't seem to line up with the image of a killer droid. Cognitive dissonance abound, G3M didn't enjoy the action part of her existence, but, she had to right? It was what she and Alister signed on for...

It would all end someday...

She hoped...
 



The doctor had just finished his can of fizz when G3M had entered. He knew what to do by the look of her and not just from the damage. Her design suggested combat and since there were no real exterior damaged parts except for perhaps a few dents, but such damage was only possible through kinetic force. He knew that whoever or whatever damaged her, it was through ION or EMP, like Deryn's own injuries a few days ago.

"I can see that, missy." The old Ripperdoc would state as he lifted himself up from his seat. "Missy", huh? Deryn wondered if he had gotten that from him. However, rather than interrupt business with more of their banter, he'd lean back on the thick duracrete wall and let the old coot deal his business. Many came to this shop for repairs, even old veterans of wars long gone because of his experience in Military-Class Augments. Likewise, he received more combat repairs due to his knowledge on combat cybernetics and not just recovery implants. She was the third one heavily-modified customer this week, not counting Deryn, and they weren't exactly common for most other businesses.

"Well, you're in luck -" The old man said as he opened up the path to his workplace. His cybernetic arm extended out a tunneller that dug itself into the main shop desk, working about in the mechanisms of the shop, and unlocking the door to the operations room. "You've come to the best Cybernetics Surgeon on Belaruza - Kovran Rochell." At this remark, Deryn would only roll his eyes in his helmet though accompanied with a slight headbob. After the many years Kovran knew him, Kovran knew what he meant by it.
pzpfsz4t.jpg

"Are you going to contest that, scrapmetal?" He drooped slightly as he jabbed a finger towards Deryn's chest. The clink of his metal hand again the carbon-nanofilament breastplate of the armor suggested that the jab had significant force, yet both parties were still nonchalant about it. "Oh no, no! Of course you are the greatest Ripperdoc! I mean, whoever should men go to to get phallic extensions?", "Eat chit, buckethead."

After their exchange, they both moved through the door frame towards the operations room to get G3M looked at. Deryn would stop by the entrance as Kovran would delve deeper for his tools. "Let me guess - Mercenary? Bounty Hunter?" He wasn't put off by her innocent appearance. Appearances could be deceiving and he familiarity with it came from self-experience. "Stop annoying the customer with your questions, scrapmetal!" Kovran yelled from deeper inside the room, within a closet apparently. "Hey, hey, its basic protection? Aren't you just a bit curious and or cautious when a combat model waltz into your shop?"

"Its called courtesy and customer discretion, Deryn. Since you sell weapons on the side I thought you'd know of it by now." Deryn would only grunt in response as Kovran would come out with the tools needed. Full-Body Cybernetics were a tricky little thing that needed more advanced tricks and doodads for the job. "Forgive my assistant, missy. Come on up and get on the table so we can get a look at ya'."

G 3 M 1 N 1 G 3 M 1 N 1


 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?

T--Wageningen_UR--divider_purple.png

When G3M1N1 heard she was in the right place, she could feel her power-core stutter a fraction as the excitement and relief briefly overwhelmed her, sighing mechanically once again as more an act of sheer muscle memory than an attempt to outwardly portray her emotion, staggering into the repair shop and leaning up against whatever she could for support, whether it be the assistant or otherwise. The elderly gentleman seemed to be polite... to her for the most part, but the assistant seemed to cop the worst of his jabs. Whatever this relationship, it seemed to be strained. G3M's forensic scanner would mull about the room, looking for DNA and the like through a UV spectrum to see if this place was safe, be it if there was a mess or if it was scrubbed eerily clean. She had, had to learn that both could be a sign of foul play or something sinister afoot.

"I'm glad, I'm Custom Designation: Gee, Three, Em, One, En, One. Its a pleasure to meet you, Not to self diagnose, but I took a pretty nasty hit, power down my left side is draining and not reaching where its meant to be going and my auxillary core doesn't seem to be helping with the matter. We took an Ion hit, but... with my composition im pretty sure i can walk into an ion reactor and be fine, haha. "

She let out a light hearted giggle at that, though she would never really try it, a bit of hyperbole and a joke to hopefully lighten the mood and attract attention more on her than the two of them going to town on one another verbally. The conflict made her feel a little awkward to be honest, and it would reveal itself in her posture as she attempted to shy away from the barbed words they would aim at one another.

"Its fine, please, don't get angry on my account. I'm a Mercenary by trade, but I'm not on any jobs, just finished... if you can call it that... a protection job, but it went south. Ssathar brothers. But ending those two is probably worth more than the transport job i was on. Just have to get to a station that has their chips."

Following the exhange she would follow directions, looking between the two of them a little on guard in case anything bad were to happen, she'd have to trust the two of them, but she was interested in the assistant, he seemed a little. Odd? Using her forensic scanners and giving him a side glance, violet lines would light up in her cybernetic eyes followed by miniscule streams of binary code rushing past along the corners of what would normally be her Sclera. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, droids developed their own personalities if they weren't reset every now and then. Something about the rogue data accumulating to form anomalies or something of the like, maybe he just hadn't been scrubbed clean in a really long time? It was usually what gave birth to assassin droids, at least from the information she recorded. She remembered an R-Unit on the bounty lists that was a particularly nasty customer.

"So, how long have the two of you been down here doing this? Also, I hope Calamari Flan will do for payment, it's all i have on me right now."

The look of strain turned to one of pain crept up as there was a small power surge down her left hand side, causing her systems to twitch and the weaponized hand on her left arm to crack a little with electricity. Seeing the danger of having that weapon on standby and ready to activate, she mentally shut down the left hand electro-grip augmentation so that it wouldn't fire near the good doctor. As much as his assistant may find humor in the accident of seeing the old man knocked unconscious by a stray bolt, it would no doubt inhibit the healing process.

Gem wondered if the droid here was another combat model, she heard that the guy sold weapons, so she doubted he wouldn't outfit the Droid as combat able to protect his shop. When it came to droid repairs, and someone with the credentials that she had read of this guy, the likelihood that he would be serving higher end customers was rather significant. She wondered how different he was than her, systems, did he have the same kind of powercore she had? It was likely he would be shielded from such a casual probe, whats more she wasn't exactly being as subtle as she could have been about it, curiosity overwhelmed her. Because like he said, shouldn't she at least be a little bit cautious or curious about the kind of droid who hangs out with a doc like this?


Deryn Kaaldos Deryn Kaaldos
 



"Figured she was a merc." Deryn said pridefully as he kept his back on the wall. "Not like there were a lot of other professions illegal augments could be found on, Smart-Ass." The doctor replied harshly once more. "Did you think something like her would be working tables at a cantina on the off chance?"; "Yeah, yeah, just don't cop a feel on her while you work, Mr. Professional."; "Stop being a critic and ready the operation table."

Deryn would comply, though likely not joyfully. With a few presses of a button, the table would lit up. In these sparing moments, Gem's diagnostics on him would come to reveal that he wasn't a droid. Inside the suit of cybernetic armor was a man of unknown race. There was no heart-beat, no breathing. Within records, the suit was designed first as a Life-Supporting suit but a variety of systems were inputted to turn it into a highly-effective Power-Armor. The organism inside was alive, non-droid, but within that organism was a skeletal machine that gave him structure. Most would infer from this information was that he was barely alive. Records of the person available would further support this as legally, Deryn is a war-veteran discharged due to injuries.

"I've run this shop for over sixty years now." That statement would be rather hard to believe for most, as the old man looked to be in his mid-40s. Granted, this was Belaruza, where age-reducing sciences were at their best. "The bag of bolts with me here is just helping my old bones get about for repairing him. As great a hand he gives me, I could do with more respect."

"This is a transactional ordeal. Respect is not a part of the equatio-" The moment her arm began to twitch, Deryn would reach to and grab her wrist, preventing further movement by holding it against the table. His own scanners told him of a weapon within and he would've gone farther than grabbing her wrist if he had not realized through scanners that it was a malfunction. "Are you okay?"

"Deryn, I think you better let go. Your hand is going to get in they way of Mr. Professional's work." He stated as he would pry his complying grip for her wrist. "Besides, we all know how uncomfortable your handshakes are."


 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?

T--Wageningen_UR--divider_purple.png
The creature that she found within the suit before her was something G3M could safely assume that she had never seen before, part of her wanted a DNA sample from the being, it was stabilized internally with a synthetic frame and then on a form of life support. It was like the creature in side was surviving... no... like it was growing within it, like a form of incubation chamber with precious cargo within allowing it to act upon the world in a meaningful way in the mean time. But no sooner than she got the feeling that she was seeing something, more private than not, she immediately shut off her forensic sensors moving back to standard vision as the violet blue in her eyes would balance out, replicating a form of more natural eye, in its own odd bio-luminescent way.

At the comment insinuating being grabbed and him keeping his hands to himself, G3M would look between the two, a confused look plastered upon her face, she wasn't sure what they meant by such a comment... was that a problem they had in the past? Was that something she had to be careful about? Now that she had a cyborg frame, was that even something she really had to care about? Lots of thoughts swirled through her head about the nature of her being and what constituted privacy, although there was a Dr about to have his hands inside her messing with her circuits and she didn't even need to adapt her stance or state of consciousness to be able to do that. So, in place of an objection G3M kind of wriggled nervously on the table, seeming a little antsy and uncomfortable at the general tone of the statement. Wondering how these two have not managed to kill one another yet.

But then came the jarring shock, and a mechanical hand was upon her in an instant. coiling around her wrist like a viper and tightening in such a manner that with the power shortage in that side she wasn't able to move. She could see the calculations running through his eye in the stern look and the haste to action. But the fact of the matter was G3M1N1 was vulnerable right now, attempting to resist with only the far side of her body would have been... impossible, she could have attempted to roll off the table, but it would have involved bowling the Dr over in the mean time, so, rather she simply allowed it to occur, looking up at the man with a concerned look plastered across her face.

"U-Oh! Ss-sorry! Uh, yeah I'm fine, Just a power-surge... the safety wasn't on, it is now. It should be fine. Like i said, power isn't flowing into that side very well at the moment. You don't have to worry."

She would look to the Dr and make sure that he was fine, the man seemed to be nice, professional, in his own kind of way. As he would pry into her systems and perform a full diagnostic he would quickly come to the conclusion that a heavy blunt force impact to her chest had rattled and torn several of the connective circuitry and one of the converters had a nice looking crack along it which would likely need to be fixed. A routine problem with small droid models if they get jostled around a little. But it didn't help making G3M feel like she was suffering a stroke.

"So, if you're only part time, uhm, what do you do? "

She would ask meekly, not trying to guess too much into the nature of the droid, or more accurately the creature within. Was it merely an attendant repair artist? Or... something more?

Deryn Kaaldos Deryn Kaaldos
 



The doctor laughed when she asked who Deryn was. Deryn, on the other hand, was regretting not putting a bit more force into that grab of his. "I'm guessing you weren't as famous as you thought, eh, Scarbrand?" Deryn "Scarbrand" Kaaldos was one of best Bounty Hunters around the corporate dominate spacescape that Darkwire thrived on. Many remarked him indestructible in his armor, and those that met him in person would realize that the stories were essentially true as their blasters and slugthrowers did negligible damage. However, he was best known for the fact that he has likely the worse record in gambling in just about any casino he has ever went to. "Maybe you would've gotten more traction if you picked a different alias. Scarbrand sounds like the most pretentious Bounty Hunter on the market!", "Shut UP, it's COOL"

He would furiously cross his arms as he turned away. He had let out some of his real voice - the dark, deep, growly one. Kovran knew that he hit a nerve - the name was special to him. It was an identity he had lived in for over sixty. He went back to working on Gem, beginning to use a scanner to detect cracks in the circuitry by detecting rogue energy signatures before replacing the lines or welding them back together using a miniature pressurized hydrogen-acetylene torch. "Alright, it's pretty cool." He said to Deryn as he worked. Sometimes he forgets that in spite of everything, Deryn was still a kid that never got to live childhood. Deryn would show reaction.

"You took quite a hit here." He tried to reconnect the circuitry back to the converted, which had first cut off to prevent overload and electrocution. However, the dexterity in his cybernetic hand would prove to be insufficient. "Hey, Deryn, give me a hand here." Begrudgingly, he complied. Walking on over he came down over the G3M. In spite of the beefy looking fingers, had he enough finesse to do the job Kovran was incapable of within just a few moments. He would redirect the power back into the converter, powering it back up.

"Mariah could've made quick work of this." He remarked as he finished up on the task. "The lady friend of yours? You seem to have a lot of faith in her abilities.", "She can fix my armor." Fixing his armor wasn't a task that Deryn gave out lightly. "Sounds like you like her.", "No, not in the way you're thinking.", "Probably not." In all his years, Deryn's never been the one for romance. Was it something about his race or the fact that he was essentially a manchild? He felt rather disappointed about it, really. Kovran played alone a lot when he was a kid, and Deryn has been alone in the dark for several centuries. He was familiar with loneliness and most people who were steeped in it like Deryn would grasp at straws to get out of it, but Deryn's always been the type to actually want to play alone, unlike Kovran.

Deryn would now open up that arm of hers for Kovran after they were finished with her chest. They had to make sure that the sudden malfunction earlier didn't damage the arm further. "So what about you?" He asked Gem. "How do droids feel about this mushy pleasures of the flesh and heart stuff that these Normies feel."

G 3 M 1 N 1 G 3 M 1 N 1

 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?


T--Wageningen_UR--divider_purple.png

G3M1N1 was mortified that she had seemed to touch upon yet another subject upon which the two of them seemed to wield against one another as a blunt instrument the friendly ribbing seemed to escalate to the point of a severe level of discomfort. To the point that G3M reflexively moved to sit up in order to protest before visibly arresting her own motion. Cybernetic eyes darted between the two of them as she found herself struggling to find the words in order to better describer her position, her attempted explanation about her ignorance about such matters. How do you tell two people that you've never met before that you're an amnesiac Cyborg!? It defied reason, not to mention put her in a very precarious position where she would be handing a degree of power over to the pair. Instead she thought it better to keep things simple.

"I-I didn't mean it like that, honest! I haven't been in the game very long at all. I honestly barely know anyone outside of a very small group of people I've personally worked with, many of them are probably nobodies compared to you. "

As they would move to operating on her arm, she didn't protest, rather laying there and tentatively listening in on their conversation, but when they had mentioned that she had taken quite a hit, she couldn't help but think of the other big hits she'd taken since she had awoken in that surgery room. "Yeah, being thrown from a speeder will do that to you i guess... it wasn't ideal. Had no idea that those slizzards were on our tails. They really blindsided us." She would ruminate for the most part, hoping that she would be able to pull their conversation away from one another and perhaps back onto a subject matter that they would be able to agree on.

Thankfully for the Drs keen mind, he would find that there was some wiring damage due to the power surge down that arm, likely in need of replacing the wiring and some of the surge protectors in the area, thankfully they were nothing particularly advanced or hard to come by, high performance, sure, but nothing a man of his repute wouldn't have in droves.

But as the conversation transitioned into something far more personal, G3M couldn't help but feel that awkward sensation beginning to overload once again, from what she could tell there was some woman that her unformed friend her might fancy, or it may not be reciprocated. That was a tough spot to be in, G3M couldn't help but think about her own prospects now, her life before she could remember. Maybe something awful had happened? Could it have been a relationship that drove her to undo herself like she had? There was no way to know, but the thought drove her emotions to a dark place. Then the questions were pose to her about her take on the matter, snapping her out of her introspection and into something she most certainly wasn't prepared for, so, deeply flustered she began her reply.

"I-oh! Uhm, well uhh firstly I think I should point out, that I'm not a droid, so, I wouldn't know how droids feel. Post organic Cyborg is the technical term, apologies if you feel i have misled you. B-but, as far as what I think about the whole matter... well... as long as its not hurting anyone. I think people should do what makes them happy. right?"

Only after her words left her mouth did she really notice what she was saying in light of her being a mercenary. She did attempt to only take protection jobs and jobs in which would alleviate suffering rather than exacerbate the suffering in the universe. Kidnapping, murder, assassinations were never within her scope of practice and her code of conduct, although she had apprehended the occasional object from a thief or merchant... But that was the lowest she was willing to sink for the most part...

As the Dr would finish up with her arm, G3M would attempt to find a way to sit up at the table, waiting for the clear to begin her own internal diagnostics and begin properly attempting to reboot systems. Her arm hanging from her side like a dislocated shoulder while her left hand flopped lifelessly with the motion of her body. She would look at the limp hand as a faux smile would creep across her lips, an amusement at the dangling limb she could feel no pain from. In the early days she had a severe case of phantom limb syndrome, except across her whole body. That sensation only seemed to occur now when she was in an altered state of mind, but she could still remember it. Conjure it a little even if she focused hard enough, as silly as it was.

But she supposed even that'd have to end eventually as the machine sunk in.


 



"Oh, really?" The doctor said as he delved further down into her. He was readying his torch once more to remove the damaged surge protectors but paused. His eyes, glowed blue and pulsated with purple strokes that danced outwardly before fizzling out, indicating that his scanners were activated. He looked at her up and down, the shine of his his eyes reflecting off of her form. Once he was done, the pulsating lavender strokes turned into an inward spiral before culminating back into the form of his irises. "You're one of them Conscience Dataloaded types, huh?" He asked. though it wasn't really a question. "Most I've seen of them are those that had gotten crippled beyond repair - and have the money to move to a different body."

"She isn't organic?" Deryn gave his inquiry as he rummaged through the spare parts they had to help in replacement. Several wires and surge protectors with energy modulators to fit were procured from the depths of the shop's inventory. "Not according to my scanners." He was answered back. The wires were now being replaced, the cutters slicing through the damaged once. After accurately yet instinctively measuring them by sight, Deryn would cut them up at perfect measurement for Kovran. Kovran, now taking the fitted wires, would replace the wires neatly, tying them up firmly before applying some electrical adhesives on the ends of the newly attached wire to make it not only stick, but prevent any sudden discharges. Afterwards, he would take a putty like substance before applying it around the adhesive, hardening into a stretchy but firm material made to hold the wires in place.

For the surge protectors, after having been removed through the torch, they were replaced neatly by newer ones though a different model, requiring the new energy modulator to govern them. After placing them, Kovran would use another tool that applied heat but in short and precise bursts as to not burn the hardware but to essentially weld it without damage. Deryn handed over the new energy modulator and Kovran would gently extract the one already inside before attaching it. "I'm guessing that you weren't exactly a woman of good repute before you took this sheet of metal as a body - given it is a Combat Chassis."

"Deryn...."; "What?; "I just told you not to ask questions like that, you hunk of scrapmetal!" The repairs were put on pause again as they began to bicker. "What? You let your Barber interview you."; "My Barber doesn't repair illegal hairs?"; "Wait, some hairs are illegal?"
G 3 M 1 N 1 G 3 M 1 N 1

 
Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?

T--Wageningen_UR--divider_purple.png

As he delved in deeper, she could feel her circuits shutting off, her arm fell entirely dead once the pieces were beginning to be repaired. The words he said, they landed upon her ears as her mind suddenly went vacuous. Her stare became blanc, her eyes no longer focusing for a moment like that of a camera lens, the luminescent purple Iris' expanding outwards as she would think about the implications of what he was saying... 'I'm guessing that you weren't exactly a woman of good repute before you took this sheet of metal as a body - given it is a Combat Chassis' ... Was that really the case? Was she someone that others would not have wanted to be? Had her life been fraught with not only danger but anger, hate, sorrow and the like? Was it something the wanted to remember? She'd been so focused on recalling everything that she had never for a moment thought of the possibility that she may not want to remember her past.

"I... I don't know, the procedure damaged my brain or something... I don't remember anything prior to the operation. Doctors said it was a kind of miracle that I didn't end up as anything more than a simple droid. But it was still a lot of rehabilitation. Learning how to speak again, walk, talk... Everything. I've still got a long way to go until I'm... Normal? " That last word hung like a blaster bolt, charged with implications of intent more than anything, likely ones that would not and could not come to pass for a creature with this model of body without heavy modifications. "However, I'm not totally inorganic." She would say tapping on her head with her free hand as smile would grace the face of the girl, faux, fake and fabricated, a replication of a smile that was being computed through her myriad systems.

"I'm pretty sure that my brain is something not entirely like a large bio-chip, its a little more modification than normal brain, but i've been told the core of it is at least based on my biology. So I guess I'm a little like a brain in a... well... very very very very expensive Jar."

While the Dr complained about the questions that her person had been asking, G3M had enjoyed the opportunity to vent a little that she had going on in the mean time. Although she had scanned the other seeming droid in the room, she figured it was time for a little quid pro quo. She'd given out a lot of information about herself, enough that she was beginning to feel numb about the subject. Wanting to change the subject she would look to Daryn, not allowing herself to subconsciously activate her scanners she would ask, "I wouldn't have thought you would have been surprised, you don't seem to different from me yourself... am I correct? I could scan the biomass within you." Her inquiry was innocent enough, but she said it with a slight edge, hoping that it would illicit some humor from the Dr that was working on her, she figured he would be more than ready to back up her attempt at some insight into the mysterious questioneer.

If only they'd know, holovids from the scene of the crime had gone live, G3M taking down the trandoshan brothers had reached some of their friends. It hadn't taken them long for some of their friends, those they had been working for to track the location of available repair shops within the area to where they were. G3M had no idea who they had been hired by, she had no idea that she was within the cross-hairs of two hired goons of the black hand. But as squads of thugs began to make their way down the street, their time within the repair shop seemed limited. No less than six marks, each stated for between one and five thousand credits. Larceny, connection to murder, spice and piracy among their portfolio... The hounds were closing in, Keeping out of sensor range and clearing the streets as they aimed to move themselves into position...

 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom