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Emma Three Nine

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About Emma Three Nine

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  1. Blaster bolts in all of their simulated glory tore into the heavy durasteel roof but it would take more than a hail of gunfire to bring the ceiling down. “Distract and flank. They cannot block from every direction-” Her voice cut off in a mechanical scream. As a seemingly invisible hand picked her up and hurled her against the far wall. The Neural net stayed active, for her processors had not been damaged. But she was certainly out of the fight. And the lightsaber advanced. Its owner holding a wicked grin.
  2. In one of the many old Remnant Star Destroyers that sat in refuelling and reprovisioning stations, a supercomputer began a long estimation of the simulation and tight beamed its results back to the AVATAR. Her photoreceptors flickered for a moment before she smiled at HC and his squad. “Very well done in the simulations, though losses are tragic, they are not unforeseen, and what is lost can always be rebuilt.” She motioned for them to follow. She talked as they walked towards the next training room. “Using your natural defenses to soak up the flechettes was very well done HC. Though make sure you have proper covering fire from your squad when you advance, you never know if a third surprise hides around the corner.” They arrived at another doorway, and they could see many technicians and high level officers waiting near the viewing windows. Emma blinked and looked back to the squad. “As you know the rebellion is in conflict with the Sith Lords. Many of us lost our homes and loved ones to their reign of terror. We watched Carida burn as bright as any star as their turbolasers fell.” The door opened. Revealing a large and mostly empty room. And inside a red lightsaber came to life. ((Take this slow, make your opening attacks))
  3. The human Replica Droid walked after the advancing rebel squad, most of her concentration held on keeping the neural net together. Her processors operating in an overheat cycle as she scanned every bit of data, discarded the unnecessary, and routed back critical information. There was one thing off about the strange darkness in the corners, as if they were being masked! She forced a warning through the neural net just as dark of the corner near the E-Web shifted aside. Two soldiers revealing themselves from beneath a thermal blanket and letting loose with a lechette launcher to fully douse HC’s squad in simulation featherlight ultra sharp projectiles. Though they would not do much to the hard exoskeleton they would sting and simulate a kill on his squadmates if they were not dealt with quickly!
  4. “Third squad prepare.” The Human Replica Droid held up her hand as the doors to the sim room opened up, showing nothing but a vast darkness. In the back of HC-42’s chromium head there rang a little notification. Do you wish to join the battlenet? This was no simulation device, the targets existed, battlenet or no, this was a purely Imperial Invention, now leveraged by the Rebel Alliance. The AVATAR Neural Net. It was not a slavenet, like the ones a droid should rightfully fear, but an information channel, once that was emanating from the young human replica droid who followed the squad into the Sim bay. “Neural Net going live.” Her voice echoed through the heads of those that had joined the battlenet, then the information came. An area map, showing the three possible directions of attack, squad details such as vitals and ammunition, and presumed/predicted enemy locations. HC’s squad was outnumbered, but the combatants were human, and their NVGs could not compare to the thermal images that showed in the battlenet. “Eliminate them at your leisure HC, but be wary, there are surprises that I cannot see.” And one of them was there, behind the opposing squad. A E-WEB repeating blaster cannon and crew. ((You have a lot of leeway here, make it a hard fight))
  5. “Put your explosives and valuables in here, program a code for it, and place it into your personal locker. No one should take it, thieving amongst companies is a shooting sentence.” He smiled again and nodded as the droid made his way into the training rooms. _______ Emma-Three-Nine, code named Zavalishin, looked up at the tall and imposing battle droid as he made his way into the training facility. She let a welcoming smile flicker across her face, the photoreceptors behind her eyes flashing momentarily to purple then back to the pale red. She was human Replica Droid, though a sloppily made one. One made in haste in the final days of the old Remnant. Before Carida and Kuat fell. And though her synth flesh made her look very much like a young woman, the visual joints, and lit eyes marked her as non human. A false image, a mockery of who she had once been. The Caridian Refugees, the unit she had been assigned were a lot like her, mostly human, mostly replaced flesh. And their newest member was simply an embodiment of what they had become through the long war. “HC-42…” Her voice was synthetic much like the rest of her, the voice having been given as much work as her eyes, and had an edge of metal. “Welcome, you are assigned to the third squad of our group. Please adjust yourself quickly, we are about to run a sim if you are willing.” ((This is your chance to describe your own squad and what they are armed with. Give the three other members names and backgrounds))
  6. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    Emma’s voicebox crackeled with static as she watched he mercenary lizard of a Mandalorian jerk some criminal officer in front of him as a meaty shield against her rounds. At the site of the man jerking with every impact like some unstrung marionette in a disastrous child's stage play Emma could not help but to smile. The smile itself was gruesome of course, all laser ablated metal, carved in the resemblance of a child’s gums and teeth by a incompetent ISB technician who had mistakenly believed any defects caused by the oxide laser would be covered up with a garnish of synthskin. Emma was not so fortunate to have gotten such an unnecessary procedure as to add skin to her metal outer casing, for the program had been cut off, and that lazy technician had paid the price that all involved under the ISB BLACK research team had paid. A hidden grave on some unknown world with no placard or memory to hold a legacy. Such was the punishment of traitors and those that deigned to play at the game of human design in the Remnant. They had known that and had taken the risk. And of course, paid the price that such men do. Though in some part of Emma’s brain that was still human she was grateful to them for giving her new life, training her in assassination and combat, and landing her here where she could die with the rest of the Empire. Stormtroopers in grey combat armour died alongside red clothed KRPS agents as the last stand around the moff council began. Moff Nimue, of Agriculture and Development, who always had her grey hair meticulously braided into coils that wrapped her head in ornate Kuati fashion was fighting for her life off to the Emma’s right flank, but that was not her concern. Her concern was right in front of her, carrying a corpse and levelling a concussion rifle at her face. All the surroundings that seemed to overwhelm her processors and brain capacity faded away in that realization. Combat was here, now, and all thoughts of Moffs and her own past fled swiftly from her mind as she sprang into action. Diving behind the bole of the Oak as a blast from the concussion rifle whizzed through the air where her head had been. An area effect weapon. Highly effective for flushing little birds out of trees. Servomotors whined as Emma coiled her legs underneath her and began to spring away as the next blast from the concussion rifle exploded at the edge of the tree. The Oak splintered with the air blast. The concussion wave sending Emma flying along with hunks of bark and hardwood. She pulled her knees to her chest as the concussion blast threw her, letting the impact of the landing flow along with her body, dispersed along her back and rear end instead of a single point of impact. If she had been made of brittle bone and organ she would have had the wind knocked from her, but since she was not and had plastoid armour that dampened the impact of both a concussive blast and smacking into the dirt, she rolled twice and came up on her feet. Blinking her eyes rapidly to reset the photoreceptors that had blurred from the impact of the concussion force. As they cleared she let the remains of her long blaster rifle fall from her hands and jumped again to the side. The powerful servomotors coiling and expanding to toss her much further than a normal girl could bound. She was trying to find both distance and height while she touched one hand to the other, fingers brushing the underside of her right wrist before she began to grab for her holstered carbine. A rapidly moving target was much harder to hit and so she moved as quick as her servos would go, as she pulled her E-11 from its holster and a frag grenade as well from the dump pouch on her side. That she primed with a three button code for a two second delay and tossed with a spinning underhand that more belonged on a shockball pitch than a battlefield and it sped to hopefully land at the trandoshan’s feet. While she brought the E-11 up and with instinctive reaction snapped its folding stock into place with a press of the detent on the side and began to fire. A string of red bolts from the E-11 aiming for the large cracks in his mandalorian armour spat out of the carbine with deadly intent. But such was her training. She wasn’t the innocent slave girl on Nal Hutta anymore, she had been remade to the designs of evil men. ((2))
  7. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    Emma’s eyes swept the approaching Black Sun regiment even as the KRPS and Imperial troops began their counter attacks against the Sith and the approaching black sun. Her eyes, red in colour, were not the normal, girl’s eyes that she had grown up with. They were no longer a pale ashen blue that teared up whenever she could see her master’s shadow. They were fierce, they were red, and distinctively not human. From a distance perhaps they could be seen as such, and the young girl whose eyes they were did look relatively human from a distance but it was a different story close up. If the girl was wearing a loose fitting tunic like she had back on Nal Hutta, the most apparent thing was that her appendages were not even trying to look human. The result of a rushed and incomplete job by the ISB, and the thin layers of phrik composite that covered the mechanical innards with their blaster and EMP resistant coatings were hastily constructed. Intended more for the underworks, to be placed under plastiskin later, but the ISB had been shut down, and the HRD programme discontinued. So the girl was incomplete but functional. Her arms and legs were metallic gunmetal grey, as was her torso and neck. The only thing that held some layer of printed skin was her face, a cute face that always held a smirk. And below all the phrik, complex skin, coatings, were the only parts of her that remained human. Parts of her brain, and its stem. All protected by machinery and a fluid impact resistant base. She of course wore more than a tunic, she wore a thin plastoid armour over armourweave, that accented her agility and fluid motion. And there she stood, beside her rescuer, her sponsor, the Moff Hohenlohe of Nar Shaddaa. Tasked to defend him at all costs. The flash training given to her by the Imperials and the Hutts before that instilled a loyalty to her friends and allies that could not be broken, even after her own brain had taken over from the flash training. Here I am, watching my friends die all around me with nothing to kriffing kill. But there was one, a bounty hunter by the look of it, lizardlike in his armour and he was coming for them. For the Moff, to take him into slavery, into captivity. And that was something she would not abide. So she moved up, pushing the Moff down into the underbrush behind a bole of a strong Oak and darted forward. Right behind a firing line of some KRPS agents who were busily dumping fire into the approaching enemies, and there she positioned herself beside a tree and brought the blaster rifle up. She would wait until he was close and then in the chaos of battle she would strike. It was a DLT-9 and while overlong, it would serve the purpose until she had to switch to something else, perhaps the E-11 in its black kydexian holster on her left hip, which was paired with thermals, frags, and a single blop grenade that were jostling around in the dump pouch on her rear belt. Then, when she could see his form clearly, and the Black Sun were nearly upon them, Emmaline Fieldgrey, designation Emma3-9 let loose a hail of blaster rifle bolts upon the Trandoshan. Her small form hidden partially behind the stooping oak. ((1))
  8. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    The Sith assault was awe inspiring, for the young Emma, and she watched hawkishly as her friend began his defensive battle. The KRPS agents stayed in a scattered line behind cover as they began to fire at the advancing Sith. Emma herself stayed crouched next to the Moff who had created her, keeping her metallic hand on his back as they crouched among the fallen trees to the center of the formation. But in the distance she could see black sun dropships. Kriff
  9. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    “Ambrose…” Her voice, though robotic and coming through synthesisers, carried a bit of the tremor of emotion she was feeling. She gestured to the wide expansive field around them and the fireworks display of the fleet fight above them in which the Imperials were vastly outnumbered. “...there is no where else to go.” She then walked closer to the bulky war droid that housed the memories of her only friend until her metallic hand brushed his armour plated chest. It was a soft and ginger touch but it carried the strength of her phrik alloy arms. A smile stuttered across her face and she ran her spare hand through her hair. “If I die, at least it’ll be with you. The only friend i’ve ever had.” She grabbed onto his chest armour and vaulted herself up to perch beside his head, her small form looking even smaller compared to the metal giant she now rested upon. Crouching upon the pauldron of his armor. She patted his helmet dome and grinned. “Don’t worry about me Ambrose, worry about yourself, I’ll make it if you do.” And she cradled her blaster rifle in hand, now at a better vantage point on whatever would come.
  10. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    The sixty or so KRPS were now moving in full action, joined by twenty members of the imperial garrison, with the lattice of Ysalamiri on their backs. Only four of lattices were carried by heavily armoured troopers who took up positions around the next of trees that Moff Hohenlohe and his men had taken up residence in. While the other sixteen carried heavy weaponry. The four anti force troopers were each guarded by a mixture of KRPS and Imperial agents, all heavily armed, some with blasters, sonic, flechettes, and slugthrowers. They knew that the Sith would be coming, and their training dictated their actions. Emma knew it from a flash package that had been downloaded into her core a few weeks earlier, and so would Ambrose from his years of fighting experience with the Imperial Army. POSLWJK, Protocols On Select Loadouts With Jedi Knights had once been the trainings name. Which had been shortened to Force Killer Protocols in the years since the death of Emperor Black and Deton. Useless and overlong jargon did not help a soldier in a fight, simple training and tactics did. Surround with numbers, hit with weapons a lightsabre could not block, using Ysalamiri liberally, and then overwhelm with fire. Easy enough for the grizzled veterans of the old wars, but the young KRPS and troopers still could be seen with beads of sweat on their foreheads. They had their orders. Emma kept her cybernetic eyes on the faceless face of her friend. She could not read his emotions so she kept from hugging him again. Though she did speak, her voice amplified from the robotic voicebox. “We cannot run and this grove of trees gives ample cover for now.” A flight of TIE defenders wheeled overhead, as anti aircraft guns peaked up from the distant complex. “They will have to face us on the ground or not at all. We will receive signal if the fleet can dispense with the interdictors.” But she kept her eyes on Ambrose, her lips quivering as if she wanted to say something which she kept still. Only her fingers twitching, betraying her nervousness.
  11. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    Moff Hohenlohe stood hunched over an orderly flowerbed, everything below him, neatly trimmed and with a grasp of his hand, he removed a healthy but misplaced Dragonham starflower and tossed it underhanded into the bin to his left. He brushed the dirt off his hands and wiped the sweat from his wizened brow with the back of his off duty tunic sleeve. He had no military command and would not be partaking in the fight. He dipped his hands in the artificial river that snaked through the botanical gardens that were attached to the retreat the Moffs used from time to time on Kuat. He already knew the outcome of the battle before it would begin. The Imperials would not surrender, they would never surrender and so they would die, alone in a galaxy that still despised them. There were no sympathetic jedi here, just Sith and their criminal allies. At least it had been a bright last few years. They had achieved what only a few emperors had attempted, they had made the Empire good. And so they would die for it. “A bright flame casts a long shadow of memory.” He whispered as he brought a handful of water up to splash his face. “What was that sir?” Came the voice of the human replica droid Emma. She was the last of the experiments to come out of Carida before the Empress had shut down the ISB experimental unit. Harvested flesh and memories made up her core, and the rest was phrik, servomotors, duraloid, and flash training. She was a cute but deadly piece of military hardware. She wore light armour with a shield unit and stared up with bright red eyes into the sky overhead, straining to see when the first turbolasers would begin to fly. Her small thin fingers playing over a heavy blaster pistol. And embedded in those arms he knew was a flechette launcher and a flame dispersal unit. Along with a razor wire garrote that could whip out from under her middle finger. She had the flash training to go along with the outfit of course, and he knew that though her eyes searched for a battle in the skies, her real thoughts were on the friend that had run away. “I am talking to myself as an old man does Emma. You look nervous, do you think something is coming?” Those words caused the KRPS agents all around them to perk up, some reaching for blasters, others for their flechette and sonic gear. Her voice was hesitant as she pondered, distracted by the comm units she was listening in to via the transceiver mounted behind her left ear. “I don’t think anything is coming sir, I just know that once the fleet is defeated they will come here to cut off the head of the snake.” “Do your exercises Emma, He will come back. I know it. Friends don’t run away forever.” She closed her eyes and began to spin and twirl in an assassin’s kata, striking with the edged weapons she kept in her belt as she began the diagnostics on her brain. And blood-black nothingness begins to spin a system of cells interlinked within cells interlinked within cells interlinked within one stem and dreadfully distinct against the dark a tall white fountain played Her diagnostics showed fine. But then why was she so sad?
  12. Emma Three Nine

    Kuat

    Her voice was a rasping of air against a vocalizer. Something that would need to be tuned and developed as she adjusted to her rebuilt body. Metallic fingers twitched as they tried to find something to distract themselves from the nervous sadness that was overcoming her. FInally her voice came back to her as she watched her friend disappear into the distance. “No…” Her red eyes watched him run and her moulded phrik shoulders slumped as she tried to cry. Her lungs heaved but no tears came. She brought her metallic hands up to futilly scrub at her eyes and then straightened her back, setting her shoulders as a flicker of disgust passed across her face. “Why does he hate me now?” Her voice did not falter, as if the tears were already gone, and a mix of scorn and sadness replaced it. The old Moff, now changed into his full uniform, approached and gathered her into a full hug. She hesitated a moment before returning it. “It will take time, but he doesn’t hate you. He hurt you and his guilt is filling him up.” “Oh…”
  13. Emmaline almost immediately regretted her decision to let her friend go. Her giggle ended in a pained gasp as she was hurled to the floor by the naked man. Her knee hit the metal decked ground with a frightening pop, and pain flared up her leg. She could see the kneecap at an odd angle through the red skintight pants she wore at part of her military issue medical outfit. She hissed and threw the blanket off herself and tried to stand through the pain, possibly to grab a hypo of sedative before she was yanked off her knees by Ambrose and held in front of him like a human shield. Her steel gray eyes were wide as she stared down the two barrels of the guards weapons, each aimed menacingly at her and the man behind her. Her voice was a rasp as it scraped through her closely held throat. “Please he’s ok, he just needs rest, he’s ok, just shoot at the knife, he doesn’t mean it. He’s ok. He’s o-” The black rifle barrel from the closest guard erupted in fire and she looked to Ambrose’s hand, hoping to see the charcoaled remains of his vibroscapel, but it was still there. Why was it still there? Where did the bolt go- Cold creeped in like a winter chill, starting at her feet and tips of her fingers. And also right below her left breast. Oh. That’s where it went. Her eyes flicked down and saw a faint billow of smoke and steam coming from her chest, likely from melted bone and sinew, and her heart, her lungs, and from her inability to move her legs at all, no matter how hard she tried to kick, likely her T4 vertebrae and the shockingly sensitive column within it. She saw more than felt her body smack into the guard and she gasped again for air but only managed a mouthful. Agonal breathing. Kriff. And I never got to use my heart for love, but now its all burned away. She focused all her strength to force her arm to move and push her over onto her back as she watched the retreating footsteps of Ambrose Veshok. She was frightened by the huge puddle of blood she was now lying in. Don't leave me, I love y- Her hearing was gone now, and all she could hear was the soft drip of blood that fell from her open mouth to fall on the red tunic of her medical uniform. It was black, burned to that colour by the discharge of the blaster rifle. I want to live but i’m meant to die. How kriffing ironic, now that I want to live. I had so much to give. Who was it that was able to live when their heart got punched out by a sith lord? Draygo something? Kriff I’m not a jedimastereither. Blinking took so much strength and with so little left, it was more economical to keep them open. Staring at the medical wing door, watching the lock turn from red to green as the lockdown transitioned to another section of the facility. Of course I have todiealone Everything was running together as red began to creep into her vision. She hadn’t taken a breath in forever either. I don’t want to die alone. I dontwant to diealone. I don’twanttodiealone. She couldn’t even try to breath, it was too much energy. imgoingtodiealone And so she did. Her steel grey eyes staring lifelessly at the medical wing door, her fifteen year old form crumpled on a cold durasteel floor. Bathed in black blood. ______________ Ambrose however was not hard to track at all and before he could make it a half a klick into the facility the Himdahl Defenders, or the 32nd Caridian guards as their patches read found him. Their grey armour the colour of Emmaline’s lifeless eyes as they began to advance on the Snowtrooper. Forty E-22s churned crimson bolts into the man. Burning through naked flesh as their officer screamed for them to cease fire. “Save his brain, he deserves more than death.”
  14. Emmaline’s voice was barely a whisper as she moved to grab a blanket from the folded stack next to the laundry basket. “You died in an attempt on Bespin, I don’t know all the details but the wards are filled by the recently cloned from that battle.” She grabbed the corners of the warm white blanket and gently placed it over his body, covering his nakedness from whatever prying eyes might enter the medical wing. She reached out a delicate hand up to grasp his wrist where it was chafing against the restraints. The other hand she used to run her access badge over the scanner attached to the stun cuffs and with a muffled ‘click’ the stormtrooper was free. She smiled at him and winked. “You are under preemptive arrest while the investigation finishes, just don't tell anyone that I unlocked you. And uh....don't run away.” She poked his forehead with her finger and giggled. “But you are nice and wouldn’t do that, so there you aren’t restrained. Just don’t run away ok. So we can talk” She laughed and sat down on his bedside, watching the door in case anyone came in.
  15. Emmaline put out a hand and placed it upon his shoulder, the rustling of her red nurse’s outfit the only sound in the room other than the beeping of monitors. A smile ticked at the corner of her mouth, and it carried with it a degree of sadness. “Well Ambrose, you managed to die and your DNA that had been kept on file recloned you, your personality and memories should be fully intact. At least that's what the chart on the end of your bed says. After you freed me I got sent here and with my training that I was given by Kalimore I found a position here in the Imperial MediCorps.” Her face turned into a pout. “Only because they wouldn’t let me be a stormtrooper like you though. Someday I guess.” She reached for the restraint key and paused when the door to the ward slid open, admitting Sophia and AVATAR Kali into the ward. She turned to Ambrose, “Don’t worry I’ll free you once they have been treated, I’ll be right back.” She waved a hand to the two figures and walked up a pleasant smile on her face. “Welcome to the Imperial Medical Ward Alpha, Medic Emmaline Fieldgrey EM392720, at your service, how may I be of assistance?”
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