Objective: Scourge (Butcher Mandalorians)
Post: 5
Gerul crawled desperately through the water stream, coming across more his pursuer's handiwork. His brain burned, barely able to register all the bodies. She hadn't had as much time to play with her Mandalorian opponents here...their throats had been mangled but that was about it...
Some of their weapons were intact...beyond destroying her head, he was uncertain of what else would really hurt. Hand to hand was out of the question in his state of health. His eyes spotted a wrist mounted flame thrower attached to the gauntlet of a dead Mandalorian with his innards torn open by the bank of the shallow stream he was crawling through. He had to reach it. He saw a large CIS ship fly over the increasingly narrow canyon he was still trapped in. The ship was on fire, having been dealt a fatal blow from turbolaser and missile, and falling debris from the ship hit the canyon faces.
"CHIT!" Gerul yelled as he narrowly rolled out of the way of some of it flaming wreckage, large and sharp and pointy as it skidded to a stop behind him. He was running out of the strength to crawl. He continued to crawl, because the alternative was being skinned alive.
More debris fell into the canyon, all of it large, all of it missing him by some miracle. It lit up the whole Canyon in front of him and he spotted something that gave him an idea, a jagged black piece of material the size of a bed...radiation shielding, laying curved against the stream of water flowing through the whole place. He struggled to it. It was reasonable to assume the Android had enhanced sensors...maybe it could not see through radiation shielding. It was worth a try. He had no energy left. He would not survive another encounter with it.
He crawled to it through water, barely managing to lift up the heavy plating and slide under it, getting a mouthful of water and dirt in his mouth and on his face. He let it down, the last of his strength giving out. He waited, scared and seeing only black above him as he was covered by the plating. He waited. After five minutes he genuinely wondered whether or not he actually had succeeded in killing it this time before her heard the plop plops of sprinting. He went still hardly daring to breath, his neck craned under the cover to see "above" him. He caught a flash of her gore soaked frame, the white of her dress and gloves and boots drowned out by blood and burn marks. The skin on her face twitched and shivered from the damaged shapeshifting processor. But that psychotic grin was plastered unnaturally on her face still.
"I-I-I-I-I'm g-g-g-going to
c-c-c-catch you" the Biot stuttered. The underlay could fix damn near anything, but her electronic processors were not organic...if they sustained damage she needed to find some sort of repair station. There were not any out here.
"I-I-I knnooooowww
y-y-you're here..." he heard it say, sending dread through him, especially when it chuckled. "Y-Y-You're n-n-n-not going a-a-a-anywheeeerrrrreee with that
b-b-bum leg..."
He felt ice cold terror as the twitching, jerking biot began to turn over the largest pieces of wreckage first. She hadn't gotten to him yet, but it was inevitable. He started panicking at the idea of how slow she would be with the knife...
Just then he heard, and presumably the creature intending to gut him heard it. More plop plops in the stream. Other Mandalorians, transporting their wounded by foot on stretchers to what he presumed to be Site 40. He had to warn them. He watched the Biot go into a sprint as she spotted fifteen Mandalorians carrying six on stretchers, all heavily armed.
Gerul through the shielding piece off of him. "SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!" he screamed, getting new fire into his limbs as he crawled to the flamethrower on the dead comrade's arm...
The Mandalorians traveling to the canyon opened fire upon spotting the gore-soaked killing machine sprinting towards him, with it performing an elaborate flips and bodily twirls to evade the trajectories of their fire, like a butterfly hopped up on stims, the boots having experimental speed enhancement strips. Her hands seized the weapon of her first victim, after kicking it out of his hand with an elegant flip. It turned out to be an assault blaster and she oppened fire, empty the clip as she waved it in front of her, downing another six, killing two of the patients on the stretchers also. In the meantime, Gerul's burnt, frantic self, in so much pain and exhausted part of him wanted to lay down and die, still struggled to get the flamethrower gauntlet off the corpse.
Vera having down another two in the span of a heart beat, shooting their weapons out of their hands with her targeting systems, then their visored faces, dodging sword swipes from another Mandalorian who had tried to flank her, she expertly disarmed him, breaking his ribs from punches she didn't really have to worry about holding back on, as she didn't have to worry about pain in most circumstances. She used him as a shield against their rifle bolts before snapping his neck and proceeding to the others.
When one has as many hand to hand combat techniques as Vera's database had, it wasn't a matter of whether an opponent could be dismantled it was simply a matter of how and how fast. She never stayed in one place for more than one second, methodically exploiting their weaknesses, breaking necks, stabbing them with their own knives, rolling, jumping, spinning to avoid fire. She hobbled the last survivor, ripping his helmet as he tried to crawl to a blaster, greedily sinking mechanical fangs into him, and ripping open his throat and gulping his blood down, feeling more balanced out after a few seconds as she fed on her victim in the stream, energy returning to her. She rose, her throat and chin covered in blood and human flesh. She turned to finish off Gerul...except Garul was already there, balancing on wreckage, pointing a gauntlet with a mounted flamethrower on it.
"
For Mandalore!" he shouted in rage as he shot a stream of flame that she was not fast enough to dodge.
Inhuman screams erupted from the Biot as part of it and the dress caught fire, spreading quickly. It flailed on the ground, now completely ablaze, struggling to put it out in the water. Gerul tried to light it up again, but the fuel was dry. He spotted a shotgun from one of her recent kills lying on the ground as the biot doused the fire in the stream and he dropped to the ground, crawling for it under a night sky full of starfighters and turbolasers, titans wrestling in the heavens for Eshan's future. He barely managed to reach it before the burnt biot rose, its underlay completely destroyed, dress in tatters, innards sparking, partly close to spilling out. He couldn't even tell it had looked like a chiss once.
It advanced, and he saw its hideous grin as he struggled to reach the shotgun in the mud.
"R-R-Ready
to die?" it asked, picking up a vibro knife, shaking and stuttering as it walked slowly, for slow was all it was capable off. White blood leaked everywhere.
"I was born ready, motherfether..." Gerul gasped, fingers grasping the shotgun, he wheeled to fire, but the shotgun jammed at that instant, letting him a moment to look at the sky and wonder what he'd done to anger the Oversoul as it took a step closer. He crawled away looking for a back up plan.
"Y-Y-You willlll
s-s-scream" it growled, barely able to walk, muscles on the verge of failure. Gerul, in his desperate crawl away spotted a nearby grappling hook and launched himself with his remaining good leg, grasping it. Just as the Biot leapt onto him, knocking it out of his hand
The biot had one hand on his throat in a death grip, forcing air out, one of his hands holding its knife arm at bay, the other trying to get its arm off his throat.
The burnt android leered at him, its skull partly exposed.
"Ready to die...
motherfether?" it asked as it tightened its grip, the knife getting closer to his chest as he started to black out.
Just then, when all seemed lost, the stream they were fighting to the death in floated something glinting that caught his eye as the world started to go dark...
Shrapnel. A small piece of shrapnel from the crashing CIS ship. The
irony of it would have made him laugh if it wasn't him in this situation. He grasped the piece of shrapnel and rammed it's pointy end hard into the Biot's skull...
Its red eyes rolled up into its head, sparks emitting from the pierced temple. It twitched once then fell dead, for real this time. Gerul stabbed it in the head again for good measure, leaving the shrapnel in, now soaked in white blood.
"You...first..." he finally responded to its question...
Gerul lay on his back, looking at war torn burning skies, and for a moment, was simply happy to not be dead. He shoved the android corpse off him and began crawling...Racer 1 had been right...survival was his responsibility...
He crawled painfully to the next half kilometer...he would signal once he did so, and hoped Racer 1 was still alive to pick him up...
Twenty minutes later...
Being salvaged by: Meier (
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/130353-saotome-commando-droid-meier/)
For anyone else, it would have been the end. Vera had gambled and lost. Hard.
But Vera was not human, she was a biot. Had been anyway...and her consciousness did not come from her brain-that was a jury rigged Saotome product. Overworked. Overclocked. Stabilized with processors. Processors that did most of the work. Including that of her personality. Her memories. Her directives. Only the legal expertise had come with the brain itself.
Vera had not been alone in this canyon. She had been shadowed by another of her creator's works, directed by that creator to assess its artificial daughter's performance.
Meier's assessment was thus: impressive, but ultimately wanting.
It had shadowed her, using its own masquer skin to match the texture and color from the landscape to stay hidden. It was not to assist, no matter what.
It had let Gerul go, waiting twenty minutes to make sure he was out of the way, deeply impressed with him.
It then went back to its normal state from a boulder nearby, looking like a beautiful woman with pale skin, and dark hair, wearing a black catsuit. It went over to the Biot's burnt corpse, cutting open its scalp and using the piece of shrapnel to tear off her currently-dead sister's skull cap, checking the damage. It peeled back the membrane covering the processors mounted to the corpse's brain nearly every processor was damaged. The only ones still intact were, fortunately for Vera, or what was left of her, were the three processors that made up her personality matrix. Meier gently unhooked them from dead tissue.
"Gentlemen we can rebuild her...we can make her better, faster, stronger..." Meier joked, staring at Vera's real brain in her hand, three square processors colored black and dripping with biot blood. They would do better next time.
Meier, for the briefest of seconds, considered crushing the chips completely and killing the vile sociopath for good, having never liked her...
But Meier was not Vera, who absolutely would have done the same in her position. Meier sighed, remembering she didn't have the autonomy to disobey their mother. Besides, the idea of Vera not only being humiliated but owing her amused her.
Meier pocketed the Biot's true brain.
"You owe me, Sister..." she said, lifting the corpse of the biot up and tossing it into a fire. No need to leave too much evidence behind...
(Exit Post. Vera is being rebuilt...)
raelvasier: We can't hold out!" 
