Emma Three Nine

Alarm klaxons echoed through the central barracks, driving soldiers and officers alike from their beds. Soldiers formed their companies with dark looks on unshaven or unwashed faces. Faces that were quickly covered in the expressionless ‘T’ visored helms of the Imperial Stormtroopers. Once a laughing stock of imperial ineptitude that would make a backwater world’s dictator blush, the stormtrooper corps had been hardened by a series of emperors. Starting with emperor Black and ending with the most recent empress. The soldiers had been trained into warfighters that were worthy of their lofty name. The six soldiers assigned to the Imperial Warfighter experimental squad, gathered in front of the lithe form of their commander. Who’s bright red photoreceptors glowed like the eyes of a demon. Neural Net up. Advance. Soldiers under Emma Three-Nine's Command

Advance The two soldiers and Emma walked forward, their rifles and pistol following the flying dark lord until he landed, bright red lightsaber and sword held aloft. She did not need to give the command, and thumbs switched rifles back from blue stun bolts, to the red gave way to red death. Eliminate There was no emotion in her command. If she could hear the thoughts of the stormtroopers who had just lost friends and comrades, she would have listened to pleasured cries of rage. But emotion or not, the stormtroopers did not cease pulling their triggers until the power packs were empty and the tibanna gas cylinders in the buttstocks were white with discharge frost. The winds ceased as suddenly as they had been summoned, the ice turned to water vapour, and the dead returned to their slumber. Emma sighed. A human expression, but she was a human replica droid after all. The air was thick with smoke and the cries of the wounded, but the Sith Lord of Mon Calamari, its tormenter and slave master. Had met Imperial Justice. And woe to his followers as they were hunted down around the city, the grey white of imperial armour shown as liberators to a populace who had hated the Empire for six generations. Who streamed out of shacks and buildings to hug and embrace those in white armour alongside Alliance marines in their grey flak jackets. The Alliance had won here today. But there were other pressing concerns for Emma, and she crouched down next to where HC had fallen, running a thin hand along one of the many burn lines which still arced with severed circuits and wiring. “Shut down to preserve core integrity, we will get you patched up in no time.” Soldiers, medical, and technicians were already on site. It might be a bit before the droid was repaired, but it would be done with the same imperial precision that had ended the Sith Lord.

With grimaces that reflected their disgust, the two soldiers finished their work with the reanimated remains of the dead and began to follow their commanding officer. They did not take two steps before one of the crates that had been picked up by the gale force winds dropped them both to the decking. Vitals peaked then dropped to flat lines. Another cruel sacrifice to the darkside. She was now down three soldiers. Three good men. Three good servants of the Alliance. But Emma could not divert her attention even for a moment. Because HC had done more than accomplish his orders. He had completely distracted the Sith from the threat of the three blasters at his rear. A successful flank, even if it could possibly end the droid's short existence. Still, in her neural net, Emma was thankful. Stun. The order was necessary. They were effectively within close combat range, and though the soldiers were steady in their aims, a single misplaced blaster bolt could prematurely end the career of the Battle Droid who was now locked in melee with the Sith Lord. And Stun did not hurt droids after all. Though the winds whipped at them with the strength of a hurricane, the soldiers knew what to do. They were trained for this. In unison, fingers flipped switches on blaster carbines and she did the same with her heavy blaster pistol. The two stormtroopers dropped to a crouch to better protect themselves from the winds. And then... Engage. A torrent of bright blue waves cascaded towards the Sith Lord. He was exposed, and the AVATAR with her men would take full advantage. ((3)) Actions Taken: Two Stormtroopers killed by flying debris Advance to finish flank, shoot a whole lot of stun at the Sith Lord.

Behind you. One eighty, Black, Hinderson new contacts. Priority one. The two selected riflemen with the precision of well trained stormtroopers set one foot back and pivoted themselves into a firing crouch. Their heavy barreled rifles beginning to spit crimson death onto the newly animated casualties. This was like nothing they had trained for in the months of combat sims on Nar Shaddaa, but the solution was the same. Apply blaster bolts, maneuver, apply more blaster bolts. Until the enemy was eliminated. These walking dead would eat the precise firing of two rapid burst imperial issue blaster rifles. Calla engage either side of that door. High-Ex. A second later the shaped charge of two under barrel 40 millimeter grenades were launched on either side of the makeshift shield that the Necro and Cryomancer were using for cover. If that would break their concentration enough to allow the Imperial Remnant squad to spread out enough to engage the Sith from either side, they would have a chance. Rest Advance. Fan and flank. Emma and the other three stormtroopers began to bound forward, keeping up a storm of blaster fire on the doorway and on either side of it. They were met by an icy storm, that was shocking in its intensity, and left the joints in Emma’s arms slow moving. Seeing one of the stormtroopers pitch face forward in a screaming mess from the creeping ice running up his shins, Emma extended her wrist, letting loose a galestorm of napalm that overwhelmed the storm of ice, evaporating it back into its elements, or at least for the moment. The remaining two stormtroopers and herself picked up their pace on the right side of the barricade. They would hit this from every angle they could. Hc and his man from the left flank, Emma and her two from the right. Calla and the other two holding the front. HC keep up fire, advance from the left.. The rest remained unspoken. She was down one stormtrooper and whoever was behind this door had already frozen most of the surface city, countless inhabitants, and likely soldiers. And was now raising the dead and making another icestorm. He was a priority target and He would not leave here alive. Actions Taken, Two soldiers engage zombie threat, high explosive grenades against the Sith and his Doorway barricade. Flamethrower to take care of ice. One stormtrooper down, rest suffering slowed from ice attack. ((2))

Emma’s red eyes narrowed as the lightsaber sprang to crimson life at the end of the large room. The Knights instantly reacted, drawing apart to form a defensive barrier between the Rebel Soldiers and the Sith Lord. Her voice crackled with static as she made her voice loud enough for all the troops and the Imperial Knights to hear. “Knights, if you may continue on to the objective. The shipyard is more important that all of our lives. It must take priority should the Alliance continue to exist. Please do not resist my orders, I am specialized for this kind of engagement.” The Knights exchanged a look and Berea’s young face furrowed in concern before her master nodded. Then without a word the two knights dashed off to the second entrance. A good half of their troops remained behind and Emma let the neural net extend to HC and these new soldiers. Their HUDs flared with the new information as Emma fed them the plan that the supercomputers had shuttled down the narrowband link into the sensor package in her body. She was a lower class AVATAR, not built for system wide conflict, but this was where she thrived. Her blaster came up, its long barrel jutting a screaming trio of bolts that thundered towards the Sith Lord and his entourage of death. The six soldiers that had joined her net moved as one, bounding outwards to form a simple curved firing line, a meter between each, their blasters coming up and filling the room with the smell of discharged ozone and brilliant crimson light. They were the premier soldiers of the Imperial Remnant; they had fought at Cardia and Kuat. They had seen their worlds fall, and they would live to see them retaken. As the Sith fleet in orbit above them was reduced to ruined scraps of metal, so too would the machinations of this Sith Lord be turned to ruins. He had defiled this planet, and Justice called for his destruction. Soldiers under Direct Control of Emma Three Nine Actions Taken: Blaster Bolts from both Emma and her soldiers towards Inmortos. Neural Net Setup for all Soldiers involved. ((1))

Emma’s eyelids flickered for a moment as her processing unit arraigned another packet to be sent skywards through the slackening blizzard. Within two milliseconds of sending she received an automatic response from the Misericordia’s onboard computers indicating that a medical shuttle was enroute as well as a Knight and their assault team. Another venerable U-Wing, this one heavily loaded with the mass casualties from northern assaults. Her red eyes counted the wounded and if she had still been human she would have grimaced. This was a costly mission so far and there was so far to go. “Let's get the wounded by the doorway, the blizzard is disappearing as fast as it came.” She turned and at that moment there was a flash of two white lights, they were unmistakably lightsabers, but pure white and held by what looked like a young woman and an old man. Both Humans, and the Girl broke into a wide grin when she saw HC. It was Berea and her Master. Two of the imperial offshoots of the Jedi Order. And with them came two squads of grey armoured stormtroopers. She gave HC a salute and Emma waved both of them over. “We need a last assault to take this place, HC can you manage it with the help of the knights and their troops? I will take care of the wounded.”

Just a little longer. Her eyes flicked to the hyperdrive readout, which was ticking down a long series of numbers indicating the gravity well for the watery world of Mon Calamari. No reports had yet come in that had indicated the Sith Empire had placed strategic interdictors around the system, and another longer glance at the readout implied that her initial thought had been correct. They had a very wounded Jedi apprentice on board, and their fuselage mounted rockets had already been expended. Their orders to revert to Medi-Vac were very clear. Just another few seconds. “Hold on here we go!” The viewscreen hazed from bright white to dark black of space, punctuated by the blossoms of turbolaser fire and exploding starships. But there was no time to ponder that. She pulled back on the throttle and the U-wing shot away into hyperspace. ((Picked up by Other NPCs on Nar Shaddaa Manda)) _________________________ “Well done HC. Moving to you, keep perimeter secure, and the moment another break opens in the fighting another Medical Evac will be on site.” Or at least that's what the comm controller had informed her. How long would it be? Five, Ten? Though she had not detected worry in the stoic tones of the combat droid, the implication on his last transmission was not a good prognosis. SHe stepped over some rubble and caught up to the combat droid. She gave him a fast and human-like smile then began to survey his view. “Status report, give me a full breakdown of losses. Medics will be on site ASAP.”

“Get the kriff in!” Screamed the pilot as the old model U-wing was tossed around in the growing winds. She looked back at the instrument panel and threw the radar signature display onto her HUD. This would be time to fly by instruments only and she had not done that since flight school. She said a quick prayer and looked back to the medicos who were hauling some creature in mandalorian armour aboard before they slammed the side doors shut. It was time to Evac, and as the main engines were still warm she kicked them into high gear. Pushing her throttle to its red levels as she made a dash into the whiteout, relying on the radar to keep her away from any tall skyscrapers. In the back, Medical Chief Lian d’Alençon, wearing the light blue fatigues of one of the Tapani strike teams ran a line of saline. The golden flower and double headed eagle that were stitched onto his chest rig marked him as one of the lesser nobles of the princedom of Alençon. Likely a cadet branch. But he was skilled in his trade. He cut away the jumpsuit at Alliera’s forearm, grabbed the needle and expertly placed a PICC line into the Mandalorian. He attached the Saline to the line then hung the bag from one of the hooks on the ceiling of the U-Wing. He brushed away some of the carbon scoring from her helmet then sat back to look over his work. “You doing ok little one?” _______________________ Emma winced as the growing blizzard began to white out the communications array of the Rebel Star Destroyers above. Somewhere above them, the supercomputer was now receiving only 2 out of every 5 datapackets that were being sent. That would be ok for now, she was able to autonomous for short periods of time anyway. She brought the blaster up and began to direct a hideous fire at the door guards. They needed to get inside now.

The squad of soldiers dropped down beside Emma as she landed on the decking behind HC. He was performing optimally with his squad and she let herself feel a moment of pride that she had been at least a part of his military training. Or as much as one droid could be to another. Perhaps it had been as helpful as his initial flash programming, but those were extra thoughts. Data that she could not spare as the blaster bolts began to fly. And the…. the world around her began to grow very cold. Sith magics no doubt. “Turn the ship and give us backwash from the engines. Fire up deicing protocols.” The U-Wing pilot reacted immediately, her cybernetic unit feeding her the data before Emma even spoke it through the net. THe U-wing rotated and the light repulsor engines bore down on the two squads of rebel soldiers. Enough to buffer them, but more importantly, to keep them warm enough to function. Thermal flaring from grid Echo two. The data came in from one of the linked star destroyers, an emergency flare had just popped up from the source of the sewer explosion. “Pilot pick them up, we are pushing in.” The U-Wing spun again and sped to the two downed Jedi Apprentices and Emma brought her blaster up. “Push into the tunnel. That will take us out of this storm.” She looked at HC, and motioned him to engage the coming mass of undead. They could afford to push in out of the direct cold, and if not, they would deploy their heavier weapons.

Emma made sure the drop doors were secured as the shuttles and transports began to drop towards the surface and the floating shipyards. They were going as fast as the engines could propel them in order to get close to the surface before the Sith forces could respond with accurate anti aircraft fire. Sure the shuttles could doge, this U-Wing could do very well in a combat support role, but there was no reason to risk a directly opposed landing. That always ended poorly. “Twenty seconds!” Came the cry of the pilot as he angled towards the nearest shipyard facility. Their objective was to take and hold the entrance to the facility, wait for reinforcements, then push in to seize it completely. Or at least that was the hope. “Ten seconds!” Emma ripped open the door, and the buffeting winds nearly took her off her feet, but her grip held on the frame, and the side gunner adjusted his gun. “Five Seconds.” Her red eyes took in the two squads of men and she nodded. Then her eyelids began to flutter as the net began to be cast to all of them in the dropship. “Go. Go. Go!” The smell of the sea was thick in the air, and it was time to fight.

Emma grinned and nodded. "Stay close, at least for this first mission. I do not think I am powerful enough to give you Net support from kilometers away. Otherwise, stay safe, and sound." She would have continued, but the Empress was speaking.

Emma stood beside the rest of the commanders and HC in the briefing room buried within the bowels of the Misericordia. When there was at last quiet, she looked around, catching each eye and photoreceptor in the crowded chamber before she walked up to the holomap that spread out across the room. Her eyelids flickered for a moment as she downloaded the tactical battle plan then spread her hands across the star map. The galaxy focused down to the outer rim, focusing even further into a small star system with large and developed shipyards. The Planet itself, which sat comfortably beside the shipyards, was a waterworld. Largely ocean, with a few scattered floating cities. It was a familiar system, one that had seen very recent conflict. Mon Calamari “Unsurprisingly and as many of you have guessed, we are beginning an assault of liberation on the world of Mon Calamari. Outside of the strategic resources of the shipyards, High Command has decided that they can no longer tolerate the enslavement of so many innocents. As such we have two main objectives: seizing the Shipyards and Planetary Infrastructure.” Her pale red eyes focused on HC. “The Shipyards are in two sections. The Assembly Yards, which are under water and along the planetary equator. And the Testing and fitting yards which are in geostationary orbit above the yards themselves. Not quite the great yards of Kuat but still plenty of danger to planetary populations if you accidentally destroy either of these installations. Command sees that as an unacceptable outcome. HC you and our team will head planetside to assist in the capture of the yards. We are to be relieving ground assets that are prepositioned for this invasion. The rest of the teams will be engaging the yards and Golans.”

“Either way I am proud of you.” said Emma Three Nine. Her voice was strained, as if the blow had done her a bit more harm than she had let on. She reflected on the frailty of the body she inhabited then reflected again on the wise choice the old imperial techs had made in putting a strong AI into a weak body. Easy top dispose of in case of rogue activity…. “This round of simulations is over and I think it is time that we went on a proper mission. We will be reporting to kessel as soon as possible, then from there the mission objectives have not yet been revealed to me.” She shook her blonde head and then nodded. “Board the Star Destroyer Misericordia. It is in orbit on station three. It departs in two hours. See me in the briefing room there.” ((Go ahead an post you and your squad boarding the allied destroyer and reporting for duty))

The lightsaber whirred in crimson arcs of light as lowpower blaster bolts were sent a hundred different directions by the Sith. Then the beacon of the darkside coolly and carelessly strode forward and ran his saber up to the hilts into the doubled up arms of Gwal. Spearing straight into where his head was protected. A millisecond later the saber was out of the Rebel soldier and up to deflect but it was too late. One of the bolts from HC caught the Sith in the back of the hood. The lights came on in the room with a flash and Emma Three Nine pulled herself to her feet, dusting off her BDU as she twisted her neck back into position. The lightsaber snapped off and the Sith pulled back their hood to reveal a young woman still in her middle teens who was grinning and shaking her head towards the observation window. “Sorry Master, I let myself get distracted.” The girl rubbed at the burn on the back of her neck at the edge of her black hair and grinned back to HC. “Very well shot by the way, very precise for an elimination.” She shrugged off her black cloak and tossed it onto a table, revealing a set of light armour emblazoned with the rebel phoenix crosshatched by the old Imperial coat of arms. Indicating that she was an Imperial Squire, an apprentice to one of the Imperial Knights that still served their old empress. “I would applaud the sacrifice to secure a kill, but maybe a different type of distraction would have saved the life of your squadmate.” She nodded to Gwal and grimaced at the small burnmark on the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "Sorry about that by the way." She blinked then laughed before extending her hand to the battle droid. "I am Berea, Imperial Squire, at your service."

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.

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))

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!

“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))

“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))

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))

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))

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

“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.

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.

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?