Private Kidnapping or Theft?

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 2, 2020

L O C A T I O N... N A B O O
M I S S I O N... E S C A P E / F I N D E L D E R S !

Naboo had been unkind to G3M in the short time she had been here, the perplexing planet of stalwart machines and vexing flora was a mystery to her, like a symphony played in a mysteriously chosen chord which she could not help but segregate from the original piece. The world however called to her, the cacophonous sounds rang in her ears to explore the world, haunting tunes beckoning her to the outsides drawing her deeper into the city life of this otherwise outstanding worlds. Though her tune was little more than a piccolo on the grand stage, drowned out by the grand basses and profound brass instruments that moved and shook the worlds cultural landscape with but a wave of their cultured hand. The small woodwind couldn't help but feel like her presence here had already made an impact, she'd been a part of something, since she was here, she'd had her solo in E, and no-one could take that away from her now.

She had met up with a small cadre, similar woodwinds such as herself who had fallen on hard times. The few of them had managed to undergo a couple of jobs together which had begun to become lucrative. Not a grand player or master musician within the group of them, however together the sounds they made were sweet, showing promise and the beginnings of something unique and fascinating. The potential beginnings of a Stokowski shift within the mercenary world as the quintet appeared to be rather effective, handing in bounties one after the other with reckless abandon. The team between them were uniquely talented at dragging in some of the most wanted scum on the planet into the authorities on their heels. A well oiled Chamber orchestra who knew their parts well and executed them with a practiced finesse, allowing the group to revel in the spoils of their labor.

Today however, G3M found herself waiting within one of the many parks of the beautiful Naboo, the rainy days of her entrance long past as her eyes of flaming violet transfixed upon a pair of golden pheasant as they courted one another in a bizarre concerto, ebbs and flows marked the males attempts to garner the females' attention which seemed to be met with little more than the critics' ire. G3M couldn't help but let out a small embarrassed giggle as the forensic scanning technology relayed voluminous information about the birds across her minds' eye, reflected in the real world only by the undulating colour of her amethyst eyes. The intrigue long blinding her to the fact that her companions had meant to be here to make contact more than 3 hours prior, the wide eyed girl struck unawares as the hecklers of their recent shows circled as the sharks within the great seas of Naboo drew closer before placing a hand on the girls' shoulder.

"Hello there kid, what are you doing out here all alone? " One of the men spoke in a soft caring voice, reminding her of her fellow, a Bassoon if ever she knew one. Turning G3M1N1 almost certain at the arrival of her comrades in arts, only to be disappointed at the well dressed and kindly faced quartet which stood before her. Each of them string-like, tall handsome and bound to attract the eye of the audience on the stage G3M1N1 slumped in their shadow as she attempted to shyly appropriate a response. Her anxiety welling up within her as she felt her hands magnetize towards one another, her fingers muddling together, coiling and unfurling as she found her voice, speaking up so not to be meek before the players who had begun to encircle her.

"I, uh, I'm not really alone, im just, kindof, w-waiting on some friends of mine. Y-yaknow?" The angel spoke, her voice in perfect pitch as the others exchanged glances, determined to have their quarry, one of them knelt before the piccolo on the paved earth, beseeching her that the crew of them knew the members of her merry band and were sent to gather her as backup for an important job, promising that they would fill her in about her part and potential solo en route to the stage of their next grand performance... If only she had known better.

Lies, as it reasoned were beyond the reading potential of her systems, while they were able to pick up on micro expressions, much of the time they had a hard time realizing the intentions behind them. While it was able to actuate guesses, those who were practiced in the art of deception were able to set up false flags to her systems, proving they they were in need of a desperate upgrade, likely in the vicinity of the AI module. So, as G3M1N1 believed the words of the cons wholesale, she found herself disabling many of her weapons systems failing to realize the threat she was in, the depth of the parapet she had found herself and the sheer scope of the weight these critics were capable of pulling. Strings of Bes'kar which would seek to drown her little orchestra within the folds of an inescapable judgement as she was led away by hand.

_______________________________________________________________________

It had been three days since G3M had been captured by the veritable mafia which it seemed her and her merry men had, unknowingly been instrumental in hunting down the members of. The Cartel was on the smaller side, but with the aid of powerful contacts had managed to become well equipped and were more than capable of handling themselves in disputes. G3M1N1 found herself in a rey shielded cage where her enemies would often throw objects in her direction to watch them be obliterated by the field which surrounded it. G3M1N1 was likely able to escape the cage at any given moment, the threat of the electrical shock was almost nothing to her, however, she had been attempting to gain information on the presence of her former comrades who had been here for as long as she had, no idea on the depths of their own fates, or the lengths of the nooses that had long since been fastened around their necks as they had been kicked off the edge of the metaphorical gallows some time hence.

Word had been talked about scrapping G3M, they were attempting to find a droid expert in order to reprogram her or strip her for parts so that she could be sold off bit by bit to the highest bidder or to chop shops around the planet. Each of them none the wiser that G3M1N1 had been sneaking out of her ray shielded cell. There were a couple of people here she had gotten to know, other slaves who had been captured and placed in similar containment, as well as a few of the captors themselves. Not all of them had mistreated G3M, while fewer still had shown a visible level of pleasantness.

Several of the gangsters were playing pazak on one of the game tables nearby, while more of them still came and go with the wind, some faces G3M1N1 had never seen before were making themselves known to her, even talking to her on occasion although she seldom had a response past a sad hello. One of the gangsters managed to catch her eyes. A balanced man, one which her forensic sensors scanned micro expressions which were antonyms with the men and women that had taken part in the construction of this hostile den. He seemed different, like a warm gust of air on a cool winters day, mysterious and intriguing, but altogether welcome.

G3M would find herself waving at the new entrant, not attempting to arouse the suspicion of others if she could at all help it, which, sadly, she failed at with a degree of misery only capable of a droid. Shaking heads and arms, G3M1N1 recoiled under the combined gaze of her captors, unsure of what to do, several blasters pointed her way without the means to truly defend herself... A squeak leaving her lips as she would retreat to the back of her cage, still attempting to gain the new person's attention one way or another. Touching the wall of the shield, to arc a small nonchalant vibes his way, or whether it were to peel a chunk of the metallic frame that was part of her body out, hurling it through the shield to hopefully bonk one of the senior looking bar staff on the head... an act even G3M1N1 seemed to appreciate in the end as she would let out a childish chuckle at the ire of the guards which surrounded her, perplexed at their inability to seemingly fathom her power to leave at will.

V Vulps

1505

Vulpesen · Nov 2, 2020

20 again. Vulpesen grinned as his cards reached that golden number, this time without him even having to expend a single piece of his meager side deck. It was almost too goo to watch his opponent stare angrily at his 17, willing the all too dangerous number to go away. Of course to have a chance at winning, he had only one choice to make. He drew and slammed his fist into the table as the new card revealed itself, an eight. "That would be a bust friend," Vulpesen purred, reaching forward for the credits. It was one of the few times in this operation he had found himself with a genuine smile. Staying in this hive of villainy was like trying to take a bubble bath in acid. He tried to look relaxed and soothed, though his very being burned with repulsion. Truth was, being having the triple title of Valde, Alphos, and CEO all meant that he didn't need the seemingly considerable sum of credits that he was scooping into his pockets. Sure upon breaking these people down, he receive everything they had anyways, but it would go into the Treasury and funds for future innovation. This way he was gaining himself a little money for his next bottle of whiskey. He would need it after so long being disguised as something besides what he was. His golden eyes, usually glowing and bright had been dimmed down to simply appear a dark hazel and brown. his tail, had been hidden deep in the simplistic robes that he kept around him. While he had his armor smuggled in some time ago, his reputation in the criminal underworld was becoming well known and thus he had to stay out of anything that my herald his usually signature look.

A sudden movement caught his eye and Vulpesen turned towards the droid in the cage along with everyone else in the room. A menagerie of pistols were drawn, his own being the only one left in the holster as he instead reached forward to shuffle the deck. "Its just a locked up clanker. Not like its one of those lightning shooting bastards. Put your guns down." Finding himself the subject of several embarrassed glares, he simply shrugged and passed out another round of cards. "What? Afraid its got a thermal det hiding in its pinky?"

With a few grunts, the attention finally died down and the game was resumed. G3M1N1's antics hadn't gone unnoticed by the agent as he continued his game. However, starting a friendly conversation with her would be more than a little daft and quite effective and injuring his cover. No, subtlety had gotten him this far and it was how he intended to proceed. Thankfully, her little childish act had once again take eyes off of him for another moment, giving just enough time for him to move his finger around the napkin before him, the digit altered by a simple albeit painful technique. By the time his opponent was faced back to him, Vulpesen had tucked the napkin up his sleeve and fixed the small protrusion of bone that had been sticking out just a moment before.

It was a short game after that, with Vulpesen trouncing his opponent once again before rising from the table. "Well, its been fun Jerad, but I think its time I take my leave. After all, I don't think the boss would be too happy if you gave me a an early retirement so soon after I got on board." Walking to the bar, he took a small detour to step over to G3M's cage, fixing her with a haughty look as he approached. "I wonder what's gonna happen when we sell you off. How many bits and pieces are you gonna get torn into? I'd almost pay to watch." As he spoke, he took the napkin from his sleeve and surrounded it with a small bubble of the force. Then, shooting it forward, he simply turned and walked away with Gemini left with a wad of used cloth in her palm. Quilled in blood on the apparent trash would be one word. "Wait."

"One Corellian whiskey, and make it a double."

"Blazes Varo, don't you ever drink something different?"

"Sure I do. But only after I've had enough whiskey to not care what's in my hand."

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 3, 2020

The man who had caught G3Ms attention had surely caught hers in response, the men and women who whirled with their pistols did so with some amount of creditation, G3M and her little band of misfits had spent the last couple of weeks losing their cadre a carking lot of credits and personnel. Sadly it seemed that like all good things, it needed to come to an ubrupt and devastating end. Curtains needed to be lowered on all good times, but the melancholy washed over her as she simply hoped, likely in vain, that her new friends were OK... wherever they were. A naive thought, perhaps one that a child would have, or at least a creature with the emotional depth of one. G3M1N1 was pleased that she was certain she had gotten the attention of the man, although he seemed to play the nonchalant game, continuing to play the game of cards and keep his eyes off her, though, as G3M took a piece of her own armour plating and launched it through the Ray Shield, bouncing it off of the head of the bartender with a satisfying clank, the ensuing confusion seemed to cause enough of a distraction and turn enough heads long enough for the man to get up to something...

She had helped...

It wasn't a mission as such, but maybe she could cause little bits of trouble as an overwhelming sensation of accomplishment washed over her steel-clad form She was able to read the heat signature which in the beginning had been the same as his own, spill onto the napkin as it would begin to rapidly cool. Moisture detectors and UV sensors would light up, cascading information across her peripheral vision confirming it to be blood, not human, there was something volatile about the blood, something changing, but not quite as bad as Clawdite... nevertheless, it was scrawled in the shape of letters long before he was to hand it to her, that much she could tell, though with the rough angle of the paper she wasn't able to decipher the message until he could find a chance to hand it to her. For the first time, G3M's eyes went wide with purpose, she couldn't simply leave her cage now, without weapons, she could perhaps bring down three or four of the men in the room, but there were a dozen, if not more. With many more well on the way within their compound.

As the Pazak game came to an unforgettable end, the man came by her cage, looking directly at her and slipping something past the ray shield... wait... how could he slip something past that shield without being killed by the electrical charge!? Something was off, something was wrong, had the shield been powered down? No, its energy signature was as loud in her ears as ever, but as she read the slightly wilted paper with the message to wait scrawled upon his own blood, she found within it the safety and sanctity of a command that could be followed. She had reflexively gone to speak, affirming the command but found the mechanical logic engines which became active in case of a mission explode to life within her mind like an event horizon of knowledge and aid... She should not speak... it would reveal their relationship and cripple any attempt at an escape.

But then his words hit.

They were cruel, perhaps intentionally so, but G3M could feel them collide with her form harder than she perhaps would have expected normally, she would recoil from the front of the cage like a wounded beast, wrapping her arms around her legs as her systems would automatically begin processing that information in the case of it becoming relevant later. And in so doing, finding a gem of information, that may be able to keep her alive for a little while longer. "I would resist that course of action if I were you, I can be separated into four thousand six hundred and thirty seven separate individual parts, sold separately on the Corellian market, they hold an average market value of between 110 and 190 thousand credits. However, as a single working unit my market sale price would be within the vicinity of three hundred and forty five thousand credits on the open market, comparing myself to other models with similar functions and designs." She would hope that the realization of her value would perhaps stay the hand of their disassembly teams for the mean time, perhaps spark a debate, an additional hundred and sixty thousand credits was nothing to sneeze at, though a single
product kept together was easier to track, easier to trace and easier to identify as stolen goods.

The small article of paper in G3M's hand would be put against the energy cage, letting out little more than a huff of smoke as her eyes would narrow, inner rings spinning like a focusing lens on the features of the man who had told her to wait here. Surely there was to be a signal or something in the coming moments, maybe hours... maybe days? The fact of the mans situation now dawned on the diminutive cyborg... he's not with them... It was a simple leap in logic now that some of the pieces had fallen into place, but it would have been something she was never able to peg before without the prompt of some kind. In the mean time, what she was able to do now?

Surely she was able to help his task in some way? For now, she would break her until now attempted silence in a hope to begin to make his job a little bit easier, lighten the load. Spark up a debate about how she could be sold. She would listen to their arguments, looking up information on markets. If they would think of a currency she could be sold in like Calamari Flann, she would interject with saying things like "The Mon-Calamari Flan is down quite low at the moment, you would be selling at cost, Wupiupi would be a better choice, though Aurodium is set to eclipse the Wupiupi in the next couple of years if it continues on its current path..." Each sentence was meant to attempt to sew dissidence in the ranks, unrest, argument, agreeing with one party only to disagree with them after and stew the pot. The men weren't idiots however, it wouldn't take long for them to see what she was doing, likely delivering a shock that would normally be lethal to a humanoid through the cage. But, not yet...

1104

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 3, 2020

G3M1N1's informative response left a smile on Vulpesen's face which continued even as he took his drink and went to lounge on one of the sofa's in the room. For a criminal syndicate, these men certainly knew how to make a good lounge room. Still, even as he rested he knew that his relaxation was the profit of lives sold into slavery. He couldn't wait to make their profits turn into cost, and see their fine foods and drinks turn to ash and mud. "Looks like we should hold off on scrapping the clanker. Sure she pissed you off, but I think we'd be idiots to let that lose us that many credits."

The droid's continuance to offer information caught the Valde's attention and in his mind, he could sense a curiosity in the room. Suddenly helpful rather than quiet or mischievous, he had a feeling it wouldn't be long until they started asking questions in return. "Don't get ahead of yourself miss motherboard. I'm sure we'll find someone with a nice fat workable wallet to take you off our hands. Until then, sit quiet like the nice bit of merchandise you are." Returning his attention to his current compatriots Vulpesen set about carousing and deepening his cover. Of course, voicing his opinions about the values of keeping G3MINI in one piece would also spread the word and buy him a bit more time as the buyer pool was shifted. A part of him felt bad for leaving the captive droid(and all the other captives in the compound) out of the loop for hours on end. Still, he would find an opportunity to explain himself, or at the very least, he would make one.

"Hey Zad, I'll take watch tonight." Knocking back the rest of his current drink, Vulpesen stood and started towards the hall that led to his quarters. "I feel like I need to spend a little more time inspecting the product." He fixed his subject with a wry smile. It was a wide fellow, a devaronian with a cruel and scarred face who returned Vulpesen's smile with one of his own.

"S'bout time you let loose a little. I was starting to think I'd hired a stiff, Varo. Just try not to inspect them too roughly. We still have to sell them, even if you were pentin' yourself up," Zad grunted. One of the leaders in the syndicate, his were the eyes that Vulpesen had to be most careful about. It was to him that the character of Varo had to be sold. Sure he wasn't the highest, but as an underboss, he certainly had value, both for structure and information.

"Don't worry about that. I know how to savor the fun," The Valde said, offering a laugh an exaggerated bow before continuing on his walk. "Hope you all got your rest last night cause I'm gettin' mine now!" This time shouting to the cages around him, he continued on his way, disappearing down the hall. Opportunities for quiet were rampant if one knew where to look. Effective and dangerous as this group was, there lacked the training and discipline of a military unit. Watches were bare and most were hungover, high off spice, or simply passed out when the night was deep. Sure there were always a few guards patrolling in the late hours, but it was far from a pleasant job and few questions were ever asked when one volunteered for it.

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 4, 2020

G3M1N1 felt a little dejected when her idea was shut down by the person she was meant to be working with now at this point, slumping once again as he obliterated her scheme to aid him with the efficiency of a trained Nabooian politician. G3Ms' focus moved around the room looking for things that she might be able to use in the event of an escape, tracing the outsides of her cage and peering out into the world as she would scan it from each angle she was capable of, activating the three dimensional rendering software in her head to create a mental virtual space she was able to move freely within. The guns and equipment that were on the belts of the people around her were relatively standard. She didn't like the look of the disruptor on the belt of the man that her ally was talking to now however... a high risk weapon she would have to look out for if they were to come to blows. G3M1N1 was without an energy shield that she would be able to deflect its blasts with, thankfully such weapons seldom had a lot of ammunition... but she bet he'd be the kind that would carry more.

For now, G3M1N1 sat, projecting the image of a board on the ground before her, listening to them talk about inspecting her, which, she didn't understand. She'd done her systems diagnostic earlier in the day, and aside from the damage from when she had been caught, which had caused a small cascading power surge when she engaged the latter of her two energy cores, she was fine. Looking up from the projected games board that was before her, monsters of alien races cast across it as she would project a decent game of Dejarik, one that she had been intending for finish for quite some time. She had customized the pieces a little with information that she had found on her travels so far. The Savrip had been replaced with that of a Krayt Dragon and a few other little mismatches which made sense in her own head... The girl pondered deeply, attempting to devise rather than compute the best strategies available to her. Her doctors had told her that stimulation of her brain was one of the best ways to hope to rekindle her memories, learning thinking games like this was one of them, and seeking creative outlets was another.

G3M thanks to her scanners now, and her 3D mapped place of the room and some of the key players in it, knowing their average weight, height, clothing equipment etcetra, didn't need to keep an eye on the room. Her other senses allowed her to update the virtual space in real time. When anyone took a step, calculations with the available data would attempt to recognize who it was and move them on her mental chessboard accordingly. There were a couple of people that she considered especially dangerous, within her map each of them had been marked red, and set an alert to inform her if any of them reached within twenty meters of her position. Likewise a less alarming signal was put in place if her would be rescuer would come within range also, allowing her to focus her conscious mind upon her game... even though it wouldn't take long for her to lose.

Some time would pass, the people around would begin to become less and less frequent as some of her assailants would begin to slowly make their way to their rooms, settling down for the long day ahead that was tomorrow. Night guards with nearby alarms to raise hell in case of an emergency but otherwise a skeleton crew. G3M1N1 wasn't sure about the location of her proposed ally who had commanded her to wait, but she had, for a frustratingly long time. No matter how many times she attempted to beat the damn game, the AI opponents that she was being forced up against were too hard. So, she had spent the better part of the last hour simply attempting to customize her board. Looking through her data banks for images of beasts that she thought looked better than the ones that were standard play for Dejarik.

G3M would await for the man to return, thinking that this inspection thing was some sort of rouse in order to allow the two of them to leave without being noticed as much. Should he return, and should no-one else be around she would look up at him, her eyes looking somehow duller than they were before, the power within them having waned slighty due to her inability to recharge while she was stationary here. She could move to the second of her powercells, but the damage that had been done to it, and the power surges it was causing within her circuitry was potentially hazardous to herself unless she could be burning a lot of energy at once to curve the edges off the spikes simply through giving it vents to flow through.

If he would return G3M1N1's voice would remain soft, partly due to power conservation, while also in part wanting to keep the volume down. "Hi, Uhm, I mean, Greetings, I'm designation Gee Three Em One En One. S-So... what's the plan?" The opening was practiced, almost robotic, something that a droid would say upon formally meeting someone for the first time in any given scenario. Leading others to likely calling her G3 rather than Gem or Gemini. Such was the nature of the ledge she sat upon deep within the chasm of the uncanny valley. G3M was eager to begin their attempted escape. "What news is there of my friends that were bought in with me? Do you know? They're a funny group, small annodat girl with 4 arms, A Zebrak Guy, big muscles, a Changeling, and Zeltron sisters..." Her eyes were full of hope, pleading for an excuse to think that everything was OK, although something seemed, off. Her eyes widened like human eyes, obviously replicating it, but the micro-expressions were there, small ticks, almost like she were made of mercury, living, moving. It remembered being alive deep within itself somehow, certainly more than any droid would and far more than a simple scientist would be able to replicate in a lab.

It wouldn't take a fool to realize the more cyborg nature, how the force still flowed through her as though she were a living thing of spirit, if not no longer flesh.

She was no droid, she was a girl.

1119

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 4, 2020

Rest was easier than most days for Vulpesen. Finally something was happening. He wasn't biding his time anymore. It was almost time to act, and for a man forged on battlefields across the galaxy, it was far better than sitting around waiting. Vulpesen's chronometer notified him of the time, urging him to start the nightshift. With a small yawn, he rose up, adjusted his clothes and went back to to where he had come from.

Upon entering the room, he walked slowly towards G3M, his eyes glancing around to ensure they were alone. Once confirmed, he complete his approach and stood before her, listening to the designation. "Long name there, miss. For now, call my Varo." A plan, that's what she wanted. Of course it was, it was their best bet for getting out of here in one piece. It was her next question tat took him by surprise and he struggled to keep himself calm. He had wondered why particular cruelties had met with a small number of the kidnapped lives. "I suggest you focus on your own safety at the moment. I'll do my best to rescue every person I can from this place. As for a plan... I have friends. All I'm here for is information. If you've picked up anything form them; names, places, haunts, operations, anything that we can use, then perhaps we can spring this cage a little early."

He took a moment to reach out with the force, spreading out his presence to survey the area, though as he passed over G3M, he paused, his brow furrowing as he sensed something he almost didn't expect. Life. Truth was, Vulpesen had never been fond of droids. They were cold husks, iron and steel masquerading as one of nature's gifts. But in the 'droid' before him, he didn't sense the void. There was a spark there that joined the flow of the force around them. "I see why you don't want to be taken apart. Don't worry, I'll be keeping you in one piece."

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 6, 2020

The footsteps of the man echoed through the empty room, sound reverberating off of the duracrete walls like stones skipping from wall to wall in G3Ms' ears. The gait as he stepped from one foot to the other, the weight distribution he placed on the outside of his strides and when his foot hit the ground, the time between when his heel and the ball of his foot struck the ground. Each of these small things were micro-transactions,learned behaviors which were just as unique as any fingerprint though when combined they were sometimes more. but with such limited samples, this set denoted the creature as one of 4 possible people whom G3M had picked out since she had activated her scanner. Three of the following were unsightly creatures, however there was a certain, surety within this particular gait, a comfort. G3M's cell would be lit up as an Amethystine tube as her eyes would be bathing the otherwise dark room in her soft ephemeral glow cascading along the walls in wavy patterns like dancing lights in a sea cavern wall due to the ray shields uneven undulation.

"Long name there, miss. For now, call me Varo." G3M would think about his opening response before letting out a soft awkward smile, she didn't really have anything better fitting than her official designation in the mean time, she hadn't thought of a name while simultaneously one had yet to be given to her, sadly she had been mistaken as a droid long enough that she seldom needed anything more simply because of the expansive alterations of her cybernetic body. Though as she rose to stand, she would silently think about the area around them before raising a hand to the Rey Shield, taking in a deep breath and pressing a palm up against it, the Ray shield would flare, white hot ion radiation would slam into her armour plating as she would wince a little at the sensation, however, she was made for this... her designer had joked that she should be able to walk into an ion reactor for a couple of minutes before really feeling anything from it. As her hand passed through, so too did the rest of her, smoke raising from the foulds as her clothing was torn apart by the electrical current leaving only the resistant armour weave pilots bodysuit she donned underneath it. Most of her other clothing had been taken... she wanted her coat back...

But now, open and bare to the world, there was no hiding what or who she was when she was like this, her arms were a dead give-away, segmented into an upper and a lower piece, a gabing line down the middle revealing some traces of her inner anatomy. Although coated in a synthetic skin that acted more as an impact padding as well as an aesthetic choice she would still resemble something like that of a doll. Fabricating a deep inhale, more muscle memory than anything as she relaxed, no longer psychologically bound by a cage surrounding her. She would listen to what the man had to say, his mission, he was here for information. She had scanned so much in the several says she had been here, papers that were on the tables they thought she couldn't see, but she could see their penstrokes, and with her virtual world that was enough to recreate their documents mentally within a 92% success rate. She had heard them talk through walls, she had seen their weapons and thought to trace them to their makers... but mostly, she had seen a tattoo on one of the leader's bodies recently after it had been gotten.

"I, uhm, I can give you, well... everything I know, would you like it now? O-or after we escape? I-uh, well, I've basically been recording since I got here, perks of being a Cyborg and all that am i right? I have almost perfect recall, well, um, when it matters. "

He would give out a list of the kinds of information he was looking for, names, places, known haunts and what's worse, operations. G3M began to recall some of the data as her eyes would glow a little brighter, a sign of her processing the information as all of the audio and video logs were separated and run through a couple of dozen filters to drain the chaff of the information into something more... pallet-able. If the man had a data-drive or personal computer or assistant of any kind she would be able to upload the information to it with relative ease. But, one of the lines from her AI assist would cross her vision as she was processing the information... ACTIVATE SURVIVAL PROTOCOL? Y/N ... ... ... It was a suggestion, more-so than an order, but she had always taken the assists' word to basically be that of god, her mental finger would hover over that button... Did the assist not trust this man? Was there decisions it wanted to make on her behalf to attempt to keep her safe? Was this a warning of some kind? G3M didn't know, but, she felt herself begin to doubt her convictions more and more by the second, her stature shrinking a little smaller, a little meeker and a little less imposing as she denied the button... no, she had to trust this one, she could always activate it later if she needed it to. 'RESPONSE: N'

"W-well... I hope you have some big friends, w-wherever they are from. Uhm, from the look of the tattoos some of t-these men have. I think they may be a small cell be associated with a group called..." Her voice would lower to that of a whispering wind as she would lean closer, aiming to utter the words into his ear, "Crymorah..." The Crymorah Syndicate would be a big name, one that G3M wouldn't say out loud lightly. None of them had ever said anything of it directly, however she had seen enough papers, tattoos and other memorabilia to more or less confirm her suspicions. One of many cells most likely, the galaxy spanning collective were powerful, more so than some entire planets. They had an almost unlimited amount of funding from spice, slavery, murder and other dastardly deeds as well as the personnel to capitalize on it. After his final statement G3M would think of their exit strategy, she needed a weapon, or something. She could do some damage with fists alone, but it wasn't enough. Then there was the matter of her friends...

"I-I think I have the data that you're after... but it's not the kind that is going to help us get out of here any more alive. If anything it simply confirms how dead we may be... But, we need to get the others' out. We get them out, asap, and I'll give you everything."

1169

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 7, 2020

Vulpesen rose a brow as she passed through the field, stripping herself of all but the more armored pieces of her attire. With that movement, his mind started to race, not in response to a possible threat, but in future explanations. It was a further complication to his plans but not something worth bringing up. The desire for freedom was something he did understand, and if she trusted him to give her this small reprieve he wouldn't tell her no. Hearing that she had information though, sent him into more thoughts, and then the first appetizer of intel touched his ears and he couldn't help but allow a lopsided grin to touch his features. "Crymorah... I've heard of them. I'll have my men do some more digging."

She was, to put it simply, an asset. All the information he needed in one little bundle that had just saved him days, possibly even weeks of integration and undercover work. All she asked was to get out of this place, a request he would have been inclined to follow even if she hadn't asked. "We aren't dead yet. Though you'll need to wait a little bit. Be ready tomorrow morning. My men are fast and when they come in, it'll get real chaotic real fast." Turning his head for a moment, he enjoyed a loud pop as his joints started to relax a bit. "I can toss you a blaster when it starts, especially since it looks like you can get out of there without too much trouble." His eyes narrowed for a moment on the cage. "By the way, if anyone asks before the big show, this night was less than pleasant for you. If they notice that you exited the cage, then find a way to let them know that such an exit wasn't for a friendly chat. I'll get you out. And we plan on getting everyone we can out of this place."

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 11, 2020

All seemed to be said and done... but they were not ready to leave yet it seemed, the battle that stood before them still needed to be waged and allies needed time to accumulate in order to hit this stronghold with everything they had. Thankfully, assuming the lives of her friends were intact, there would be an inside force biting at the heels of the defending force as they attempted to repel an outside aggressor. One could not wage a war on two fronts after all. This man, this... spy? At the very least seemed more competent than she had would have hoped, he was smart, careful, but she had yet to see if he was strong. He barely flinched when she spoke the name of one of the larger crime syndicates in the galaxy, certainly one that had spent fortunes ensuring they had some of the most potent scum in the verse under their thumb and employ, a thought which had worried even G3M, forcing her to remain stationary for the mean time hoping to postulate an escape. No, the stalwart soldier before her didn't seem frightened at all, or even phased, almost gleeful even. G3M1N1 on the other hand felt as though she needed to stress the scenario.

"I...I'm serious, Crymorah are nothing to smile about, while they may seem a rag tag crew, many of their leaders are... stubborn. They hire from the best, absorb the highest skilled and most accomplished bounty hunters, criminals, assassins, pilots and marksmen in the galaxy. From what I've gathered this is a storage facility, though I'm not, ENTIRELY sure. But it stands to reason this place is more guarded than managed. At the helm of this place will be someone who has a proven record in that field. A veteran of a war gone bad maybe? If we are waiting, I would spend every conceivable effort in the few hours or days we have to find out EXACTLY who or what we are dealing with, and if he has a personal crew. The only person I have seen amongst the crew here fitting any description is a known former Alliance ace marksman named Goulding who went awol some years back after some sort of big event, but his profile doesn't pit him as the commander sort... you may remember him... you beat him in cards the other night rather soundly..."

G3M1N1 would hope to gauge his reaction at that information, hoping that he would at the very least get a little more serious after information like that was dropped at his feet. Some of the hallways in this complex were long choke-holds, at least the one that G3M1N1 had been dragged down when she arrived, it was obvious it was a sort of short range snipers' pit to retreat to and hold, short of charging an army down the sixty five foot long hallway through a gunners galley of no cover while they had a stationed garrison at the other end made a charging advance suicidal. If there was to be an attack from outside, that would be a kill-zone, but it was likely there wasn't only one.

It was the next words which the man spoke about her condition and the lie that was to be told over the next day which caught G3M a little unprepared. Her head cocked to the left, confused and unsure about what he was getting at. The insinuations that this conversation wasn't to have been nice held a plethora of loaded language. She would open her mouth to question the request before hesitating, instead choosing not to look through the criminal database of some of the gangsters she had seen the faces of here, as her AI prompted her to do so in order to ascertain the expectation that she was meant to uphold.

"What do you mean, less than pleasant? Is there a scenario that you have professed to others to occur? If I'm to hold true to a series of fabricated events, I should know what you intent to tell or have already told others. I mean, or else someone is bound to catch the lie. "

G3M fumbled a little towards the end, she was doing so well talking to this man, trying to put on a brave face, but the fact was these men were scary, brutal slavers and dictators who had scoured the galaxy for time imemorium with the intention of making a profit off of the suffering of others. They deserved, no, needed to be taken down here, and maybe even across the galaxy as a whole. But this could be the first blaster bolt in the foot that they needed to begin the hunt in proper!

After hearing her reply, G3M would move back into her cell, sit, and begin to meditate on what needed to be done. Once she was ready, and her friend had removed himself from the room, she began to hold her hands in the electrical shielding which surrounded her. The effect would begin to heat and char her armour, although she was highly resistant, she was not immune. Holding her arm there was enough to build up char marks which would serve to prove the struggle which she had gone through with the man form the night before. Tattered parts of her burned clothing littered the ground of her cell, insinuating more to the story as she would take a finger, and carefully with the aid of a micro repulsar push a section of her head into the shape of a dent from a blunt trauma just above the temple. The process wasn't painful, but nor was it enjoyable... though as the morning came, and the men of the day began to filter in, her state did not go unnoticed to the cheers and the jeers of the other men and woen of the ship...

What a cruel world...

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 13, 2020

Her insistence on the danger of their situation didn't go unnoticed, and while Vulpesen eased his glee for her benefit, he couldn't help but feel far more excited than scared. Finally, the Vitae's investigations had paid off and they were finally on the way of going after the bigger fish in the polluted pond. Hearing about Goulding's status as an HVT piqued the Valde's interest. It was a complication to the mission but a welcome one. If they could capture that man, then future operations would certainly find themselves a bit easier. "I've been keeping an eye on their dynamics. Jerad Goulding may be a terrible pazaak player, but I've noticed his competence... and his cruelty. The others respect him for the most part, and I think it wont be hard for him to lead me to this den's leader."

Beyond the information on their organizational structure, Vulpesen's lodging in the compound had given him plenty of opportunity to scout out such dangers as the sniper's nest that lay in G3M's mind. In truth, such things didn't worry him too much. It may slow his men down, but they had strategies for such occurrences. "As for your lie, tell them that I spent the night practicing my interrogation techniques. Feel free to be as creative as you wish. Just make it believable. I've made a reputation for discretion so we won't have too much to worry about with conflicting reports. Just keep your head down and don't get yourself shot."

With their plans at least sufficiently explained, Vulpesen moved on, continuing his rounds as he left G3M to return to her confines. Wandering the halls, Vulpesen extended his presence in the force, ensuring that no one was around as he produced his comlink and hailed what reinforcements he had. "Valde to Vixen. You there, Captain?"

"This is Vixen. Is something wrong sir? You aren't set to report yet," noted Captain Harlow, the head of Vulpesen's personal security detail and his liaison to the outside world. Sitting in Vulpesen's ship, the Twilight Vixen, Harlow was the organizer for the mission, staying in communication with the various teams and units that had been spread through the area, simply awaiting the call to action.

"Quite the opposite actually. We've found an asset. Also, we have an HVT to look out for. Name is Jerad Goulding. VIP is a female Cyborg. Short designation, G3. I'll send you the lay out in a bit. But long story short, we're gonna need a sizable force. Mobilize the nearest 5-O and pack the big guns. Move in by 1200." He could feel his pulse quickening and his senses sharpening. This was what he lived for.

A few hours later and Vulpesen would concede his watch to another before retiring to his room to complete his planning and communications. Tomorrow, the fun began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Vulpesen would be absent as most of the usual crew came down to lounge area, the obvious explanation being that he was sleeping in after his night shift. Most would be joking and discussing their coming heists and intended crimes, and for the most part, everything was as normal.

The first hint that something was off was nigh imperceptible. A subtle clicking in the footsteps down the fall that led to the bunks, amplified by the stillness of the cages that lined it as all eyes fell to the dark figure who strode into the lounge room. It felt good to be in his old boots and as Vulpesen made his way to the gambling he cast his eyes around the room, still keeping his physical aspects disguised through by now, everyone had taken notice of his new attire. "Good morning, gentlemen," he said politely, letting the force roll off of him in a wave of calm.

The creak of a chair against the floor filled the room as Vulpesen leaned back, reaching in to remove his pazaak deck from his cloak and place it next to him. Against the back of his seat, he could feel his wings getting sandwiched between his spine and the wood. "Varo... what are you wearing?" asked one of the criminals seated near him. His hand twitched obviously closer to the edge of the table. Word had been going around in such circles of these as a man in black covered in black who arrived to remove such places as this from existence. Likely the only thing that kept everyone from opening fire was that many were stunned by his boldness, and that the face that continued to smile and act as though everything was normal, was a face that they had drank, ran, and joked with.

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 17, 2020

Night would claim G3M in a sleepless wave, shutting down her systems was still a daunting thought to her, relying on the infinitely complex machinery which would ebb and flow within her, thrumming as a thousand humming bird wings deep within her core. Knowing that there only needed to be one infinitesimally small fibrillation which could cause the system to chain react, spiraling into a discord from which she may never wake. Because as tough as the Cyborg was on the outside, machines were fragile constructs at the heart of things, truly the inverse of a human who was fragile, but far tougher than they seem on the inside. G3M missed that old dynamic, she couldn't help but feel so fragile, even despite the functional immortality she potentially now benefited from... The worst thing about the sombre darkness which imposed upon her mind, was not about the length of time that she was under, it was the suddenness of it all. Time didn't pass for her while she was unconscious, not like the ambiant time one would sleep for, where on some subconscious level you felt the time pass. No. This was like being on anesthesia, sudden, jarring and instantaneous. To be awoken after it all with the sound of systems powering up for the first time each and every morning reinforced some of that mechanical mentality.

It was just so... inhuman.

The guards that would pass G3M on the later night runs would give her sly looks, her clothing burned up and destroyed, its charred remains plastered on the ground nearby would have them believe that she was thrust against the bars. G3M would spend a little time fabricating some markings that would better reinforce the story that had been told, holding limbs within the field of the ray shield to build up burn marks on her armour plating, aesthetic damage at best on her face, hands for the most part. To indicate that she had been thrown up against the barrier. It would be a fate that would likely have killed most droids, but they knew that she was made of something special, something hardier than most. A couple of the night guards had some parting remarks to say to the girl, each of them trying to get a rise out of her, or to break her down just that little bit more... However, to be honest, it was working. She crawled further into the back of the electrified pen, wrapping her arms around her knees as the anxiety would creep in as a toxin.

Eventually, sleep took hold, a full night and morning passed which would feel little more than time between a single step. Eyes opening to a drastically lighter room, far more bodies filling it as she could once again hear the gait among the crowd of the ally from before making their way down to them. Something however, was off... different foot-wear? Well, yes but that wasn't the difference she was hearing, there was something more confident, something more verbose with the stride of her companion as he would veritably saunter into the room filled with armed gangsters. In an outfit which instantly pegged him as an enemy no less. G3M could feel the combat that was about to ensure, the tension in the air skyrocketed, thick as the blaster-gas which primed in the veins of the gangsters... this wasn't good, the man was out-numbered about a dozen to one, and seemed confident in doing it... but... that was when her sensors picked something up...

G3Ms forensic sensors detected within the chemicals and temperatures of himself and the others around him, that hostility, the adrenal reaction which occurs within the brain and subsequently can be picked up through the sweat glands of humanoids was ebbed. Suddenly, in a sort of pulse. The bizarre biochemical anomaly was unlike anything she had ever seen, to multiple entities all at once. Her systems must be glitching, reading the adrenal responses of the gangsters wrong. Having been recording, she marked that event, moving to play it out in her VR virtual space a hundred more times, looking at it from each angle. It wasn't simply the numbers that were moving, she could see micro-expressions in the men around him subtly shift at exactly the moment the numbers moved... was this a glitch? It had to be. She would scan the air for a sedative, find nothing. G3M would scan her memory banks for non chemical means to halt aggression, there was hypnosis, subtle suggestion, but a host of conflicting information on the subject. The biochemical anomaly was unlike anything she'd ever witnessed, small, but not unlike a miracle. Perhaps it was a special feature of whatever this man was... like an alternate to a Zeltron pheromone response, her scanners weren't perfect after all, so that had to be it.

Yet the tension continued to escalate, the man would need help, G3M only had two shots with her hidden weapons, which was hardly enough to deal with the dozen odd gangsters, but it was enough to perhaps plunge them all into a churning world of chaos. She'd need G3M1N1's help however, engaging the AI assistant's subsystems as well as the combat aid, G3M would feel her conscious mind be pushed aside, relegated yet again to that of a co-pilot, assessing and confirming tactics as they would cross her screen, in many cases far too fast for her to be able to answer all of them. One of them, however she was looking for, seeking, knowing that it would be there in among the preliminary combat actions under mission parameters, sub heading engagement protocols.

MISSION: PROTECT VALUABLE TARGET...
MULTIPLE HOSTILES DETECTED...
ENGAGE IN PREEMPTIVE STRIKE... YES

Having had enough of sitting down, waiting for the world to come to her, G3M1N1 would stand, brush herself off from the dust that had accumulated on her while she had slept. Her form was, taller, more confident, her stance made her appear almost another half foot taller than the nervous child-like manner of the cyborg a minute ago. Her eyes glowered as cold amethyst rings would spin to life indicating the use of the machine's processing power, analyzing the room, engaging every combat system, priming micro-repulsars and more. A couple of the bandits would spy her beginning to wind up, content that she was still behind the ray shield. While it was true that her armour had taken a beating from the handful of times that she had passed through it, she had been careful to ensure that this one last time would not cause catastrophic systems damage. However, her armour would be substantially weaker to electrical attacks until it was repaired. Something that was taken into account in the mean time.

G3M1N1 would place her hand up against the barrier, testing it for a second, and reinforcing the idea to the others that she was locked behind the cage. Electrical energy sparking at her fingertips as they drew nearer to the field, recoiling a little at the touch, it was enough to know that she was making them nervous, on guard, splitting their attention between the two threats in the room, not that she was really a threat. Only one of the men REALLY kept an eye on her after a couple of seconds, the others mentally reasoning that she was no problem at all, as long as she doesn't get free.

But with a burst of movement G3M1N1 stepped through the electrical wall, sparks flew and the room was bathed in white as the field made contact with her body. Strips of her steel frame would be heated red where her shade-steel plating had worn thin, able to retain the energy for now, showing the damage to her body. The one man who had been ready for this would flip a steel table for cover with one hand, drawing a heavy blaster pistol with the other as he would attempt to aim. Another two of the men would attempt to draw their weapons in response, rapidly upholstering, raising and swinging their blasters in a wide arc for G3M1N1 as the Cyborg would but raise her left hand. Systems would eject from the arm, blaster gas pooling at the intersections between her fingers and a hole at the base of her palm. Violet eyes would penetrate the darkness, synchronizing with the rose coloured blaster gas of her anti-personnel weapon. As it would fire.

A roar of a thousand birds chirping would tear through the area, catching the three who stood there within the conical blast, like that of a flame thrower. The dark pink rolling wave of blaster gas that was expelled in their direction made contact with the table first, absorbing it within the folds of its heat, vanishing as little more than a barrier to a sun in supernova. Washing over the man in cover behind it, followed by the man behind him until it would clip about half the body of the man to the side. The ceiling, walls and floor caught in the blast would be shaved clean, eaten away by the force as a small pool of blaster gas would linger like a mist, the only sign that the blast had occurred in recent memory. G3M1N1's arm would be smoking and an empty blaster cartridge would be expended as a scatter gun shell, hollow and used. Disruptors were terrifying weapons, and the wide angle one on her left arm was no joke. It was a shame they had taken its ammunition.

The silence that would hang for a moment was deafening, but, after a still second or two, blasters would be drawn, and battle would begin!

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 22, 2020

"Oh I just slipped into something a bit more comfortable. I'll be honest, for being without uniforms, you slavers have such little regard for comfort when it comes to your everyday wear." About at that moment, G3M would rise up, catching the attention of several goons, though Vulpesen's eyes only darted to her for a moment. "Though to be hoenst, its probably all the dirt and grime of living in the underbelly. But I don't remember being this miserable when I lived on Nar Shadaa and that was a hell hole," he continued on, monopolizing the attention of room while G3m worked on exiting her cage. "Maybe I'm just spoiled now, what with being the head of the Vitae." His partner at the table stiffened at the name and Vulpesen's eyes moved towards the man's hand as it slowly moved towards his blaster and he had a fairly strong feeling that quite a few around the room were doing the same until G3M finally broke through her barrier, catching the attention of the goons. "Oh, by the way, you're all under arrest." There was a brief pause in the room. A still silence so tense that one could bounce a ship off of it. It was retreat of the ocean just before the wave of a tsunami. Then, as quick as the tension had risen... it broke.

Vulpesen lifted his hands, one being used to call his blaster into his palm while the other caught the nearest blaster bolts, absorbing them with the force while metallic wings sprang up from his back covered in deflector shields to protect him from what criminals around him decided to take their chances on their former friend. His ears rang as the roar of the Cyborg's cannon tore through the room and he grit his teeth as he used the distraction to put three holes in his enemy's chest. Unlike a blaster, the Fennec had a very loud and noticeable bang, especially in a closed room and the Valde was certain his deafness would last probably a good few seconds. Of course, all the noise also made a for a perfect signal for his men on the outside. G3M's scorched hole was soon joined by another as a portion of the wall was blown apart, revealing the squads of men that had stalked their way up to the building.

Slavers were men with plans. They prepared and thought about their moves, striking when opportunity arose and everything fell into place. They were creatures of habit. Subjugation was order. They needed things to be planned, orderly, and peaceful. But with two explosions, a platoon of soldiers, a pissed off cyborg, and a master of the force loose in their living room, chaos reigned. "G-3!" Vulpesen shouted as he flung his blaster towards G3M1N1. He hoped she knew how to use the weapon if she caught it. She only had about a dozen shots until he could get her more and he wasn't sure how many more of those terrifying beams she could muster. For his own weaponry, two distinctive snap-hisses would sound as he ignited his saber staff. While his wings protected his back, his whirling blades fought off the onslaught on his front, sending blaster bolts back at the slavers who had dived behind cover before beginning to defend their base.

"Terris, Groleon, protect the VIP!" Captain Harlow shouted over the din as his repeating blaster sent even more foes diving for cover while he and his men pushed into the room. In response, two men would quickly run towards G3M, their rifles firing at any that would turn towards themselves or their target. Given her information, the Vitae had taken special care during their planning to ensure that G3M1N1 would be well protected during the mission and extraction.

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 23, 2020

G3M1N1 didn't expect the wall to detonate, whirling on her heel she would see the faces of several men charge the place, blasters at the ready as the charge would begin, however, it was the power of the man whom she had dealt with before which surprised her further. As they opened fire on his form, he would sprout wings, shielded and glorious which would protect him from multiple angles, the deflector shields upon them seeing the shots ricocheting across the room at non dangerous angles as he skillfully manipulated the wings to defend him at the back and sides. However, yet again, as blasters came from the front, he would extend a hand, G3M1N1's scanners would see the energy signature of the heat of the plasma decrease significantly, dulling before being extinguished entirely leaving the man before the blasts unharmed. Unlike the mood tampering from before, all signs concluded that the blasters at that frequency, considering his density and muscle mass should have penetrated seventy eight percent of the way through his torso. Killing him instantly.

This would prove yet again the need to record the spacial anomaly, defying the laws of physics as there appeared to be no machinery on his person showing the power to pull off that kind of effect. If there were, he would have absorbed a heat signature comparable to that of the multiple blaster bolts that were fired in his direction. He'd be hot, burned and maybe more from the impacts, but there was time to dwell on such things another time. For now, there were men and women in the room, blasters at the ready and even more spilling in.

With a quick dash, G3 would be upon the enemy, a single burst from one of her micro-repulsars would have her dashing in a direction faster than an Olympic sprinter off the opening line. Her arm coiled backwards and lashing outward with speed enough to cave in the wall that surrounded them yet alone a human chest on impact with her forward force. Gem however had other ideas, realizing there were others here, watching and witnessing what was going on, even with her limited knowledge of social cues, she doubted that using her cyborg strength to bathe the room in the blood of the people who had imprisoned her as well as her compatriots would be a good look. With hasted speed she would pen a digital order to halt the kill order in melee and restrict lethal force to ranged weapon fire... However, she felt the resistance of the Droid AI, confirmation after confirmation scrolled by the screen in moments, alerts warning of the danger of the action to hold back when their chassis armour had been damaged, not to mention the risk of being captured again as well as the tactical disadvantageous nature of the task. Each worded in a way that she could not simply answer yes multiple times. 'Yes, No, Yes, Yes, No, No, Yes, No.'

G3's eyes would process the commands as she would launch towards one of the slavers, reversing the push from one of the repulsars to a pull as she would drag herself to the ground, crouching as she would plant her left foot and swinging out with the right. Catching the entity by the ankles as the shattering of bone and snapping of tissue would echo with his cry of anguish, unlikely to ever walk on that leg again without advanced medical intervention. G3 would reach out a hand mindlessly, her scanners picking up Vulpessen throwing a steel object towards her yelling her way. Looking its way she would process it as a Fannec Heavy blaster pistol. From its structure and the energy readout of the blaster gas canister it would have approximately 12 shots at full power before requiring a reload. Excellent. Though, as her scanners would reach out for the presence of the people in the room, she would see more coming down the hallway. Two sides, ten... no fifteen men and women from the building, each of them heavily armoured and far more heavily armed than the ones that had been taken by surprise. G3 would fire up her repulsars again, rolling behind a tipped table, coming up in a spring like stance as she would bound for another of the men, grabbing his wrist with a spare hand as her shoulder would slam into his abdomen.

The cyborg could feel his chest deflate forcefully, the flexible bones bending to merely 1/3 of their size on that side, the sound of hairline fractures on her forensic sensors picked up as her body would spin, rolling around him so that his body would interpose itself between her and the entrance which their new friends were not long from breaching. G3M1N1 had one more of her 'big' shots left before she was relegated to melee, and the use of the pistol which had been thrown into her hands. But, giving these men a moment to hesitate, as well as the squad a moment to gather themselves and prepare seemed too key here to not take the shot. Priming the continual beam weapon in her opposite arm from the disruptor blast, she would plant her hand on the chest of the humanoid, aiming through his body, through the opposing duracrete wall and to where the armoured soldiers on the other side were standing...

F I R E

A blue wave of charric energy would launch from the continual beam maser, both burning and burrowing through everything it touched with a level of armour piercing not normally seen in small arms fire. Sadly, due to the thickness of the wall, she would not be able to swing it in a wide angle cut. However, the maser would trench itself through the wall and through one of the targets as they approached like a tripwire held at chest height. Two pieces of a creature fell down as the others abruptly stopped. Gem would then drag the continual beam five meters across to catch a second and a third in the continual beam. Dropping one. However, as the weapon ran out after a moment. The third hit target did not seem to drop, likely protected by their armour as the beam did not have enough time at the end of its arc to bore through it like it had the others. A second charred and spent compressed blaster gas cartridge would eject forcefully from her arm slamming into the ground.

"My integrated weapon systems are spent, we have fourteen heavily armed and at least moderately armed hostiles preparing to breach our position. I've given them something to think about... But that's all."

Her voice would be calm, monotonous, far more like a droids now with none of the emotion or the animation that was behind it when they were talking. However, she could not help but watch the whirring energy beams of the mans' light saber. Was attempting to get energy readings from it, however, the only thing which even came close to those kinds of energy readings were a... no... it was highly doubtful that this creature had gotten a hold of one of the most precious resources in the galaxy. Kyber was not something some random commando or bounty hunter could just attain, although, it was dawning on even the droid now that this man was not exactly what he seemed to be. Her memory banks would rake their data storage for word on the organization he mentioned earlier, with a hope of gaining some knowledge of him. But such would only be the kind publicly known by civilian populations.

He had questions to answer when this was done, even Gem didn't argue with that command prompt.

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 26, 2020

"Mother of-" One of Vulpesen's men took to cover as the beam launched out, bisecting several of the enemy, his eyes wild with a mix of fear and amazement. "Where'd you find that one, boss? I like her!" he shouted, coming back form his cover to fire his grenade launcher down a hall, where purple clouds would rise up, sending any caught within into a hysterical panic as hallucinations took hold of their minds.

"That's our VIP Garlan! Keep your focus!" Vulpesen shouted back. In terms of his personal guard, Corranthus Garlan had been one his most enduring faces and what the man lacked in professionalism, the Valde had to admit, he made up for with competence. For his own part, Vulpesen was whirling through any who dared come near him, his sabers removing limbs from bodies at an alarming rate while his wings fluttered and lashed out, slashing through those that came from behind with bladed feathers while the shields warded off their bolts. "Alright men, push forward!"

The heavy gunners renewed their fire, corralling their enemies towards the hall while the men wile the riflemen moved to the front. Rather than laying down their own base of fire however, each one hit a switch on their rifle, causing a shield to sprout from the front. locked together in a phalanx, they would then moved down, sweeping through the hall as those behind them fired over their shoulders to take out any visible targets. By now, a platoon of men had come to their aid and while pushing down hallways for such a large force would normally be a nightmare, previous planning and training had helped to mitigate such chaos on their end. "G-3, think you can point us towards where Goulding will be holed up?"

G 3 M 1 N 1

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 28, 2020

The men would oogle the blasts, which made Gem watching from the sidelines chuckle a little within her private 3D digital space, it would have been funnier if she had any more ammunition and could actually reload the weapons. Though the men who breached the walls of the room in exemplary fashion didn't seem phased in the slightest by the laws of physics and motion being shattered by this man on a moment by moment basis. His movements seemed too fast, too acute and too practiced for a human of his age, as he reacted to events as fast as she did with her AI assisted combat program. It was like this man was a combat supercomputer! G3 would steel herself, watching the grenade launcher fire into the room as the ironclad men down the hall began to react to the effects. G3 would charge the wall, microrepulsars flaring with the movement jetting her across the room faster than most humanoids could fathom, firing a single blast at the wall with the pistol she was given as she coiled a fist. Aiming the devastating blow at the duracrete wall directly at the point she had struck she would launch a punch propelled by the violent force of a repulsar-lift burst in her elbow. Her fist sheering through the surface, leaving a perfect hole, as through the ajar doorway opposite G3, magnesium white flashes lit up the hallway followed by a gurgling scream to accompany them.

Pulling back her hand, electrical eels danced between her fingertips as she looked at them admiringly. "Sadly, ammunition is at an all time low, my charric and disruptor wave are basically useless now, I only get one shot with each of them." She would watch as the men would form up into rows, powered shields erecting as they would begin to stalk down the corridor, stepping over the bodies of the fallen, G3 would hoster the pistol she had been given, pilllaging a modular repeating blaster rifle from the men who had fallen in the hallway, combined with one of their armoured vests in order to protect her compromised chest. Slapping it around herself and checking it for the additional blaster ammunition, she seemed content with the few hundred rounds she now had at her disposal. Even though emerald blaster gas conflicted with her intended colour scheme. The call came to look for the sniper amongst them, G3 would attempt to scan the corridoors, but unlike the peaceful downtime where ambiance amplified the few sounds and movements of the air in the area, everything now was abuzz with movement, the air was too disturbed, the myriad footsteps thunderous. There was no way to focus on her more subtle forensic technology at the moment. Hightened adrenaline levels in the men as they ran about also disturbed their sitting body temperatures and heart rates making the man difficult to find by her usual tracking methods.

"I don't have eyes on him, he could be down any corridoor. It would be most advantagious for him to setup in a killzone." Her words were flat, matter of fact and left no room for doubt as they moved through the hallways. Only to whirl around another corridor. Light resistance, Crymorah mercenaries holed up around crates and boxes for cover, opening up with their blaster rifles as the shots would crack against the shields of the allies who would return fire with extreme prejudice. However, as G3 returned fire with them, becoming part of the spears which hung over the shields, her scanners picked up something different on the opposing wall behind them. A small black dot which she had not seen before... but it had depth to it. She would check the thermals behind the wall seeing the outline of a man holding a long barreled weapon, and her eyes would open wide in surprise. "Gouldi--!!!"

No sooner than she tried to let out a warning, the weapon fired with a spark and a crack-boom. Launching a high calibur verpine shatter rifle with an explosive tipped round. Illegal in almost 40% of the galaxy even for military use due to the shrapnel caused by the rounds. G3 would attempt to dive for cover as the bullet would cascade for the barrier of their phalanx. It wasn't often that shields were effective against that many types of damage, G3 knew people were about to get hurt. This was Goulding, this was his killzone and he was setup with a weapon that could punch a hole in a light armoured vehicle with relative ease. Once the damage was done or resisted, G3 would pull back behind the corner they had been in before. Listening to the reload of the weapon. Whatever it was, it was single fire, taking about taking about 5 seconds for him to unload and load another shot. It wasn't a long amount of time, but G3 could probably hit the wall that fast if given a straight shot... he would need to fire again though, and he wasn't the kind to miss based on his profile.

"It's two foot thick duracrete, reinforced this time. If we can draw out another shot I can get to the wall and end it, but, I have nothing that would allow me to take that kind of impact... or evade it...I don't suppose you can wield that anomaly in order to prevent a blast? "

Still unknown to the nature of the force, she would question. Eyes processing his reaction as well as the reaction of those around him. He had prevented blaster bolts before with the effects, but this was something else entirely. thousands of tonnes of kinetic energy barreling towards a person at supersonic speeds. G3 also posed the question in order to test the power of this weapon the man wielded. She would ensure that would he be up to the task, she would be recording every moment of this transgression... Ball was in his court.

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Nov 29, 2020

Continuing down the pathway, Vulpesen stayed behind his men, focusing his senses through the force as he attempted to seek out his prey through the force.

G 3 M 1 N 1 had impressed him and his men with her ruthless efficiency, though Vulpesen couldn't help but wince as he felt the lives around him wink out after sudden spikes of panic and fear. He could tell that they had the Crymorah on the run. Even as their numbers were bolstered by reinforcements, the surprise still hadn't worn off due to the Vitae's extensive bag of tricks.

It was the panic which tipped him off, or rather, the lack of it. As G3 mentioned her inability to find their target, Vulpesen found an oddity in the presences around them. Whereas most in the area were on some form of elevation, there was one area of calm within the opposition like a stone in a rushing river. It was the feel of a man who had seen battle. It was someone who had been trained to lower their heartrate for that critical moment. A sniper.

"Foun- Get down!" The force rushed through him, warning of the impending shot. Hitting the ground, Vulpesen growled as several of his men went down, one claimed by the initial round and a few more injured by the shrapnel. Being designed for blaster wielding enemies, the shields did little to ward against physical projectiles. "Verpines are difficult! I'm not sure if I can form a barrier large enough for all of us and strong enough to stop it!" Even as he spoke, he watched as several more men went down, sparking a pit of rage within his stomach. "Make it fast, I'll draw his fire!" Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Vulpesen launched over the heads of his men, his claws extending and hardening as he slammed his hand into the wall, sinking them through the metal to stick to the surface. Opening his mouth, he filled the room with a concussive howl, sending what men weren't in cover fling back before leaping to the other wall. Flicking out his wings to slash at those he came nearby and sending out shocks of lightning as he danced back and forth, he did his best to distract the sniper and convince him of Vulpesen's level of threat. A commander in the open wreaking havoc amongst the troops, Vulpesen would be a golden target.

'Don't get shot! Don't get shot! Don't get shot!' He thought to himself a rounds blasted apart the wall inches from his tail. It seemed his acrobatics were certainly an effective tactic, but it was taking all his concentration to follow the force and avoid the sniper's steady aim. Thankfully, his armor and wings seemed effective enough in absorbing the blasters of the common foes around him.

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Nov 30, 2020

All hell broke lose, the formation shattered, their chances of conquering this hallway dwindled as the mercenaries behind cover would move to attempt to pick off the stragglers, wounding the soldiers in their heavy armour, but, enough shots would down them all eventually in this shooting gallery. However, G3 didn't like the idea that the man capable of throwing around others with waves of gravitational force or spontaneous kinetic energy wasn't able to stop a bullet like that, though, the force per square inch of a bullet was very different than a big wide wave. Perhaps it was a matter of limitations, which was good to know for future reference. Bullets had mass, blaster bolts did also, just far less of it than a bullet. Though not even G3 could have predicted the actions of the man as he would break into the corridor. With a call for her to be quick he would leap out, letting a eagle like cry down the center of the complex which would cause even G3 to close her ears for briefly due to how close she was to him. Then he would charge!

G3 would watch in horror as the man would begin to charge the hallway, moving left to right, ensuring that he was never in one place for too long. Diving into the sniper as he did so, the man on the end of the long gun was having a hard time honing in on his enemy. He wasn't used to being predicted like this, but he had heard the scream, insulated by the barrel of his weapon and the two foot thick wall which buffered the scream. He was a force user. So he would do like all people would do against an enemy like that, he would quickly, violently swing the barrel of the rifle down at the ground, and fire a shot which would slam into the ground at the foot of the Jedi... if that's what he was. A shrapnel blast to the legs would be enough to slow the man down, a second shot afterwards could finish him for all the sniper cared.

No sooner than the muzzle flash could be seen by G3, she would dart out from behind her cover, repulsarlift generators in her limbs in overdrive as they would propel her faster and faster. Each of her steps accelerating her to extremes as sparks would explode across her arms, legs and one along the side of her chest. The shell of the sniper's shatter rifle would eject, a trained hand moving to his side to grab another of the 10 inch long shells. Deathly fast, G3 would charge through the killzone, what stray blaster bolts that were flying in the area where she tred. Expecting for her ally or the men around her to deal with the problem as she ran, two survivors took aim at the dashing woman who would dutifully ignore them with the intention of beginning to fire. G3 wouldn't be able to take the shots and perform her duty, it was up to her allies for now, they better do their job. Don't get shot, don't get shot, don't get shot. Gem would beg within the inside of the virtual space in G3's mind.

Should her allies rise up to the occasion and protect her, she could hear the sound of a shell being loaded into the chamber, being locked into its position as her fist would coil. Final stretch as she would dedicate all non essential power into the repulsars on her legs and her arms. The shell would lock into place, his finger on the trigger as G3 would throw a blow towards the hole in the wall, the very hole which the sniper rested the barrel of his weapon. She could see the heat signature of the wall behind aiming down the iron sights of the weapon as her fist would come crashing down before colliding with the wall and the barrel itself. Coming down on it like a hammer and diving to a side as the wall would literally explode. The bent barrel and collapsed rubble enough to trigger the detonation tip of the exploside round as shrapnel would blast into G3's upper torso and shoulder, stripping away armor plating and leaving her left arm dangling on connective mechanics.

She would look back to the room, cradling the arm, seeing the heat signatures plastered across the room and dimming quickly. A central mass however was still moving, writing, but crawling along the area leaving a small streak of fading heat from it. "He's alive, but wounded, maybe badly, be careful~" She would slide down against the wall, while Gem would rapidly perform diagnostics on the wound, left arm was inoperable, power cores were thankfully intact, but the armour plating was shredded and in need of replacement. Wearing that armour had likely saved her life... for now. It wasn't over yet...

Vulpesen

Vulpesen · Dec 1, 2020

Vulpesen continued to hop from wall to wall, his claws sending him zigzagging down the path while his mean laid down covering fire for himself and the cyborg. Those who lifted their weapons in her direction would find such limbs in significantly less working order as a Verpine round shattered through meat and bone. Vulpesen was trusted to keep himself alive, especially considering that it was his entire focus at the moment. Still, luck and the force could only get so far and eventually his opponent would start to read his pattern. The trick to shooting a moving target wasn't to shoot where they were. It was to shoot where they'd be. Vulpesen's senses through the force lit up as the round left the barrel, aimed not at the wall that he had been clinging to, but at the ground which he was about to bounce off of. "Oh Cru-" the curse was cut off by the sound of the blast and he barely managed to point his hands down in time to send a burst of force energy to deflect some of the shrapnel.

His vision went white with pain as bits of metal tore into his leg. Balance, lost, he faltered and collapsed against the durasteel floor, using his momentum to skid towards some boxes for cover. "I'm good!" He shouted through the pain and blasterfire, ensuring that his men kept their focus on the real objective, keeping

G 3 M 1 N 1 safe.

Letting the adrenaline course through him, Vulpesen turned it into focus, sinking into his mind as he called forth the image of a creature. As G3 absorbed the round, Vulpesen would finally emerge from his hiding spot, though in a far smaller form. As far as Veran creatures go, the Pythros was one of the most adorable, and easily among the most horrifying. So long as he was unbothered, Vulpesen would fly swiftly to his compatriot, but an example would be made of the first unfortunate soul to fire on him. Swiftly puffing up, the furry creature would expel a cloud of green gas into the man's face. Within seconds the effects would be apparent as the victim began to gurgle and clasp at his through, all the while red began to pour from his eyes, mouth, nose and ears. It was a gruesome death, but one that sent a message... don't mess with the fluffball.

Upon reaching G3's side, the pair of beady eyes would look her up and down, assessing the damage with what passed for a wince before motioning with his tail for his men to advance forth. Their commander down, it seemed most of the Crymorah had begun to surrender. They were outgunned and now, without someone to push them into the fight, there was little reason to throw their lives away against the number of soldiers that continued to fill their hall.

G 3 M 1 N 1 · Dec 2, 2020

The world became chaotic after the boom, muffled voices as people charged, taking the position and the last few remaining bandits down the killspot. Diadnostics discovered that part of her hearing systems had been knocked about while her body was losing power at an alarming rate. She would route power away from the wounded arm and shoulder, turning of those systems as live wires would seek to drain her power core ever more. Though she would notice through all the turmoil that there was a small creature keeping close. G3 attempted to recount the past few moments, but it seemed the blast had done a number on more than she had expected to. Was this shell shock? Was she capable of feeling shell-shock? It was new, and she didn't like it in the slightest. Reaching out a hand for the little fuzzball she would give it a tickle, not knowing what else to do about it.

It took Gem a second to realize that the G3 was no longer in the pilot seat, her body was basically non-combat operational now, so she had handed back possession to the child like creature within. Her features softened, micro expressions began to cross her face again as she would smile and twitch like a normal person once again. Her posture worsened, slouching rather than standing perfectly upright as muscle memory would kick back in. When she noticed it was a little jarring, flicking from a virtual replica of the same space she was able to move freely in rather than the real world. Taking a quick moment as she appeared disoriented she would giggle at the little creature before her,

"Heya little cutie, what are you doing here? Sorry, I don't really have much for you right now, but im sure that after all this is done we can play some."

Her face twisting a little in concern at the damage that had been dealt her hearing wasn't seeming to come back gradually like feinting or concussions which others tended to have, though, she was more machine now than person... she basically was a machine now, and when machines had problems, they didn't often fix themselves. Her mind ran with the events that had led up until now, but when she saw the soldier's storm the positions of the Crymorah criminals, they would finally begin to cave. Throwing their blasters to the ground as their last ditch effort came to an abrupt end with all else having failed. The sniper may not have been their boss-boss, but he was the authority they had in the field. Without him, the chain of command was destroyed and there was nothing else to fight for.

Gems mind through all of this came to the idea of her friends, her eyes widening in shock as she would stand abruptly, cradling her arm in hopes that it wouldn't fall off or something worse. She wasn't sure which way she could go, so instead she moved to the soldiers, looking for the one who had talked to her earlier. Finding nothing, no steel wings, tall stranger or unstable physics to call for, only the men and the strange animal who had seemingly come out of nowhere. Gem couldn't recall any animals of that kind held here, nor the men speaking about them as she looked through her memory banks... but stranger things have happened in her line of work . So she would move to one of the other soldiers in the mean time.

"I uh, I came here with... like... three or four others. I haven't seen them since i've been here. D-do you know where they'd be?"

Her voice was shaky, far less confident and full of uncertainty and even fear, like night and day as she would attempt to gain directions to her lost companions. The small team of mercenaries who had attempted to form a stable on naboo... which felt all so long ago. Depending on the reaction, she would begin stalking the corridors for the location or she would turn, looking towards the blown out wall for the sniper. Heading his way to begin an interrogation. G3 prompting her to give over control for enhanced interrogation methods, but she refused. G3 would request again to hand over control for enhanced interrogation methods. Denied. And this process would continue cyclically for the deeds entirety.

[div]

Vulpesen · Dec 7, 2020

Vulpesen trilled a response to G3 as she apologized to him, apparently unaware of his transformation. Still, he rmained in form as his men cought up to them. This shape was undamaged, and unhurt. More than he could say for his normal body.

"You look adorable, boss," Garlan offered with his approach, a lopsided smile gracing his cheerful face as he rested his grenade launcher upon his shoulders. However, the cyborg's question brought him back to the more somber present, causing his expression to turn more serious, especially as he fixated on her injured state. "Don't worry miss, we're doing all we can to find them. We'll have this placed searched before you know it. Now wheres the medics! We got inured over here!"

As if on cue, a trio of men came forward, two of whom held obvious medical supplies, though the other held gear more suited for an engineer who spoke to G3. "Sorry ma'am. The Valde told us about you, but we're not really trained to take care of your kind. We'll do our best though." With himself and oine of the medics attending to her, the third rose a brow at the pythros that had by now, perched on her shoulder. "Sir, you know we can't work on you like that. I've got the nysillin ready."

With an unhappy mewl, Vulpesen fluttered down and started to expand, his small winged body glowing with a golden light as it burst into black cloth and furless flesh. Instantly, pain blossomed in his legs and he reached down to grip the wounded appendage. "Crux that hurts!" Thankfully, the medic worked fast, hitting the ground with a tourniquet at the ready to staunch his bleeding, and a dose of anesthetic to numb the pain before starting on the mangled flesh.

"I bet it does, sir. The damage isn't as bad as it looks. Mostly flesh wounds. Take it easy and we should be able to get you through the rest of the operation. That means no more jumping on walls. Also sir, as your personal medic, I must advise you to never do that again. Convincing an experienced sniper to shoot at you is very hazardous to your health."

"Thank you Ylaren. But it worked on Geonosis."

"Sir, you lost your ear on geonosis. And we airlifted you from the battle."

G 3 M 1 N 1

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