Do I Dream of Electric Sheep?
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.
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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
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