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Meira
She don't mess around
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Half awake in our fake empire
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Feb 25, 2015 20:17:17 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Feb 25, 2015 20:17:17 GMT -5
"FRAKKIN HELL!"
A hydrospanner flew from the bay, colliding with a cart and sending it crashing to the ground. Tools and sundry parts scattered, adding their clatter to the curses and banging about of Ari Wayland as he ranted and raved at the unmoving bulk that sat slumped in his workspace. He kicked another pile of parts, sending them in all directions and then wiped the sweat from his brow with the shop rag he'd had stuffed in a back pocket.
"When I wake you up," he said, pointing at the basilisk droid he'd been working on, "I'm going to kill you."
He'd made several of the wardroids already. One for Mandalore, and a few for clan leaders. Those had already been tested in the crucible of battle and had proven themselves. Had proven him. The mantle that Mandalore had placed upon him had not been wasted. He felt its weight, and its honor keenly. Ari was fairly certain that this new generation of basilisks would be his magnum opus. Which was why this one was vexing him so.
The other wardroids had been mostly compiled when Ari had started working on them. They were the unearthed skeletons of Mandalorian heritage and he had restored their flesh and breathed life into them once again. This droid was one he had begun to assemble with the leftover parts of others, and specially made parts of his own creation. Old and new, past and future; a true child of his own mind. But the damn thing would not cooperate!
Ari returned to his console, bringing up the droid's schematics on the small holoprojector built into the workbench. Two images appeared: the concept design, and the current construct. By all outward appearances, the two were identical, But Ari knew that somewhere in the mess, something was off. He'd tried several alterations, and run countless diagnostics, but still the ghost eluded him. He'd made some progress, but feared that there was not much more he could do without actually awakening the droid.
This was something he did not want to do yet. Basilisk droids were not like other droids. They had more life and personality to them than was strictly wise to allow. There was a reason other cultures didn't have their own versions. Even the most finely tuned Basilisk was dangerous at the best of times. They truly were wild beasts, barely controlled by those who bonded with them. If Ari woke this one up before he was sure he could control it, they'd have no choice but to destroy the thing and he'd be back at square one. That was not an option because this droid would be his own.
Sighing, Ari looked back over to the droid, which looked very much like a giant animal sleeping on its side. He walked around the mass, hands on his hips and eyes squinted in focus. "I'm going to figure you out." he said out loud, and entirely serious. "I'm just as stubborn as you are, you'll see."
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Mar 28, 2015 22:45:19 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Mar 28, 2015 22:45:19 GMT -5
He walked much like a dignified beast, his stride controlled anc contained, but graceful and oddly natural. His front legs fell with silent power, their cervos menacing to behold, but only causing the smallest of tracks in the ground as the rest of him followed. To be certain, he was noticeable; pitch black, dark as the space among stars, with red markings both thin as hairs and bold as stars.
His new body would do. As would the black armor that walked in front of him.
His name was Kaysh'meg'miit'gaana'oyacyi. He who writes, survives. He had earned this name by the secrets he had recorded, so told the black armor. He had contained key bits and pieces; key components of Basilisk programming and records of legendary battles. These keys he had carried unlocked doors of knowledge unknown to Mando’ad for centuries, the armor had gone on.
Then the armor had shown the face of its soul. The black droid did not let him on until he had been properly and savagely tested. It was only after such a test that the droid had answered to a shorter title.
His name is Oya.
Between the information having been found in Oya and what the elders of Clan Jendri had gathered from the numerous stashes and forgotten libraries of the clan, Geronimo had been genuinely surprised by how much they had uncovered. Indeed, it seemed, his clan had far more to do with the droids than anyone had ever let on. Perhaps that was due to Twin Peaks; maybe the clan’s identity had rested in the companions, and without them they had become aimless, pointless, and even forgetful.
It mattered little these days, but even still, an old stepping stone would help support the new ones.
As such, Mandalore’s request had been clear; bring the stacks upon stacks of aged holopads, books, and data to the one man she had appointed to bring the steads back to life. Bring to the breeder that which he would use to put a saddle under every set of armor.
A herald of old tales, sent to tell them. The black helmet concealed the soul’s small smile beneath.
And so he had gone, with Oya unwaveringly following. The two hadn’t separated even to sleep, with both learning about one another constantly through the short journey. Even now, walking toward the workshop of an Ari Weyland, new things could be gleaned; Oya preferred to walk directly behind his partner. Oya’s interest in random distractions was notable, but not distracted. Oya’s pace was only a hair slower than his own.
And Oya was practically staring a hole in the back of his helmet, as if quietly demanding to see his face once more.
He would, but only in due time. For now, the sound of crashing metal and frustration emanated from the room. Neither the black armor nor the black droid seemed phased by it, coming around the corner and stopping, observing the other Mando’ad speak to the lifeless body before him, as if trying to coax the soul out with words rather than works…
Picking up the hydrospanner, the black armor was quiet for a moment, glancing back at the black droid before plainly commenting, “Sleeping souls often demand kindling before logs.”
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Half awake in our fake empire
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Mar 29, 2015 13:02:31 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 29, 2015 13:02:31 GMT -5
The voice behind him caused Ari to spin around abruptly. Surprised, but not necessarily startled, it took a moment for him to recognize the armor of the Jendri clan leader. In truth, he recognized the Basilisk before the man. He, of course, remembered each of the droids he'd brought back to life. At this point in time, there weren't many. Soon, they would be produced in much greater numbers. Even now, inventories were being made to prepare for their assembly. At that point, Ari would be the overseer in their production. Ari's own Basilisk would likely be the last that he could claim to know so completely.
"Alor Jendri." Ari replied, straightening up some. Ari's new title as Master of the Forge put him on equal ground as the clan leader, but the authority Ari held was of a different sort, and in many ways he still deferred to to the clan leaders in matters of authority.
After greeting the man, Ari's eyes naturally moved to the looming droid behind him. It'd been some time since Ari had seen this one. Already, it appeared to be an entirely different creature. It'd been painted, its armor now matching that of the man bonded to it. And Ari had heard its name had been determined.
Of all the mystery and ritual surrounding the Basilisks and the Mandalorian soldiers who bonded with them, the name had always fascinated Ari the most. It was the true sign of the bond, and proof that the Basilisks were more than just droids. Ari had been there when Mandalore had bonded with her Basilisk. He knew that one's name. He wanted to know this one as well, but felt it wrong to ask. It was like asking a Mandalorian to remove their helmet. Such a thing had to come from the owner, not demanded from without. Ari, for his own part, did not put as much stock in staying behind his helmet. It was impractical for his work, for one, but he also had never felt the need. He knew it showed him as something of an outsider, but that was part of who he was and he'd learned a long time ago that there was no point in trying to hide that.
"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" he asked, pushing his own thoughts to the side for a moment.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Mar 31, 2015 20:52:38 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Mar 31, 2015 20:52:38 GMT -5
“Forgemaster Vizsla.” A black fist hammered to Geronimo’s shoulder in the classic Jendri greeting, completely devoid of any sort of bow or nod. Tradition dictated that it show the greeter to be warm enough to show a sign of respect, but resolute enough to show no subservience. To be “at someone’s service” was meaningless; the Jendri were a free people (or at least, they liked to say there were; history told a very distant story), and the only thing they would show was respect, and even then, only when earned.
But surely a title like that was worth a fistful of respect. Masters of the Forge were the subjects of many stories throughout Mandalorian history; evidently there was something about masters of beskar-working that beskar’gam-wearing Mando’ad liked. Gerry had heard countless ballads, most of them about ancient Masters who had forged great and mighty works.
He was certain that there would be one about this young smith and how he breathed life back into the Basilisks, too. Perhaps he’d see about working on one on the way back to Gargon.
But Geronimo showed no pause as the greeting ended, his fist dropping back down, and the black armor turning around and looking up at the droid. The black droid, in turn, crouched ever so little, making accessible its saddlebags. Popping one open and sifting through syringes, bottles of pills, and medical tools (all perfectly organized and ready at a moment’s notice), the black armor fished out a stack of holopads that were clearly a bit dated. Closing the bag, it turned back, the droid resuming its normal posture silently, and its arm extending the pads toward the smith.
“You could receive these.” The old holopads were the last of the Jendri’s collection; another few volumes to the small library of knowledge they had recovered within the clan and without about the basilisks. They’d found bits and pieces of everything; historical battles and their strategies, building schematics, repair instructions, training methods, tactics, and even a detailed guide to decoration (more specifically, war paint, a prime example of which now adorned Oya). These last passages pertained mostly to electrical systems; specifically known passages prone to faults, repair records involving weapons systems, and even a few software glitches. They, like the rest of the collected knowledge, had mostly been figured out by piecing together the old documents.
“Another few whispers from old winds.”
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Apr 3, 2015 16:47:40 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 3, 2015 16:47:40 GMT -5
Jendri's voice replied in greeting, filtered through the comm in the helmet, but did not continue as he turned away toward the Basilisk behind him. Ari stood quietly for the few moments it took to understand what the clan leader was doing. A moment later, he was taking a stack of datapads from the man.
"Thank you." he said, as he moved to the work bench to set down the load. He laid them each on the bench top, and whistled. A moment later, a droid rolled around a partition and Ari gestured toward the datapads. "Get these uploaded." he said. The droid beeped its compliance and set about linking up to the datapads as Ari turned back toward Jendri.
"I'm sure they will be helpful."
The Jendri clan had supplied a wealth of knowledge for Ari's work, and not just on the Basilisks. As a quartermaster and a smith, there was always something he could be learning, and without a mentor, Ari had turned to old texts and files for guidance. The Jendri clan had been happy to put their records to use, and Ari had learned a great deal thanks to them.
"I was won-" Ari began, but the droid behind him whirred and chirped. Cutting himself short, Ari turned. "What is it?" he asked.
In response, the holo-projected image of Ari's Basilisk blinked away and was replaced by a wiring schematic that, to an untrained eye, looked like a maze of connected lights. Ari recognized it at once. He stepped closer to the projection, scratching at his chin with one hand while the other pulled up another schematic on a monitor. Again, to the untrained, it would appear to simply be a mess, but Ari's eyes were darting back and forth, comparing.
"Alor Jendri." he said after a few moments of heavy silence, then appeared to get lost back in his thoughts. Another few moments and then he turned away from the work bench and stepped toward Jendri and the Basilisk behind him. He looked at both of them before asking "May I approach?", meaning approach the Basilisk.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Apr 25, 2015 16:47:56 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Apr 25, 2015 16:47:56 GMT -5
The silence that absorbed the room was a familiar one; intense focus. Geronimo looked on with interest as the blacksmith studied what might as well have been Twi'leki to him; despite not knowing the schematics from a hole in a wall, it was fascinating to see that glint in the man's eyes. Mando'ad could often discount the power of eyes; one of their culture's shortcomings, Geronimo feared. But such as it was; just as eyes could glimmer and rage, so too could helmets shine and glare.
Therefore he let Ari break the silence, his own mind too comfortable in his own norm, small bits of him juggling poetic ideas of the eyes of the souls behind their armor. Worthy of a poem? Hm... perhaps a sonnet. He'd see about it later. For now, Ari approached, and his question made the Jendri shake his head once, his tone slightly instructive.
"Do not ask the skies to know the minds of mountains."
Stepping to one side, he motioned at the droid. His own pose was staunch; Oya was staring the blacksmith dead on, its black legs shifting only a micrometer. He gazed at the man intently, his head lowering ever so slightly as if to get a better view. On the one hand, it seemed a touch inquisitive, the droid clearly trying to gleam as much as he could from a simple examination. On the other hand, due to the thing's absolute silence and ever so slightly shifting panels, it almost seemed... predatory. Like a creature determining whether or not something was a threat.
When Oya did no more, however, the black armor spoke softly, folding his arms. "Approach carefully." He knew the droid well enough to know that if it was at all uncomfortable, it would make them both very aware.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
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Half awake in our fake empire
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Apr 29, 2015 18:41:06 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Apr 29, 2015 18:41:06 GMT -5
Jendri stepped aside, but that was not yet consent enough. Ari's eyes leveled on the Basilisk, not wavering from the photoreceptors; his hands were loose at his sides, relaxed. Ari had awoken and worked on enough Basilisk droids to know some generalities about their behavior. The most basic, and most important, fact being that the Basilisk were their own sort of beasts. They all had their individuality and preferences but, like kath hounds, they also related and responded to the body language of predatory animals.
So, Ari stood tall and squarely toward the Basilisk. He did not look away, but he maintained a relaxed composure. I am the man, was what he told the droid, you are no threat to me, and I am no threat to you.
Jendri sensed the Basilisk's response and spoke his advice. In acknowledgment, Ari took a deliberate step toward the droid, bringing one hand up to see if the Basilisk would lower its head to him. "I remember you well." he said, eyes still focused on the droid. And he did. When this one awoke, it was not with the clang and clatter of some of the others. From its first stirrings, the Basilisk was stoic. Ari had momentarily thought it had a malfunctioning audio matrix. That doubt had been dismissed when the droid emitted a most impressive growl as he'd approached. Requiring very little fine tuning after its first awakening, the Basilisk had gone with Jendri and that had been the end of their time together.
Ari gestured behind him to the soon-to-be Basilisk on the floor of the bay. "This one is almost ready. Will you help me wake him?"
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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May 18, 2015 11:44:35 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on May 18, 2015 11:44:35 GMT -5
The droid’s on response to its armor’s movement was a slight lowering of its head, its eyes inching nearer to the encroaching newcomer. Another set of armor… though this one strangely beheaded, its top replaced with something far pinker and softer than beskar. Odd. He was calm, however, and so far as the beast could tell, harbored no ill will. No fists, no weapons, no bad attitude.
The beheaded armor took a step toward him, and the beast remained completely still, his eyes studying the gloved hand that was offered to him. It remembered him… yes, that was right. This had been the soul that had roused it, that had ended its sleep. It remembered that day well; it had been the first thing the beast had seen, the first thing to evoke a noise from it in ages. He hadn’t been a threat then, and he didn’t appear to be one now. Good.
But it wanted something. It eyes traced the armor’s gesture toward one of its kin. Lifeless. Sleeping. He wanted to awake it, as he had to the others, to it. He was bold, certainly. Brave, discovering the ways of eras Oya remembered well.
The beast simply wouldn’t tell him of those even back in ancient times who had died waking his kin. It was an art few had mastered.
But this one seemed capable. He would help him, if only to see if he should have done more than growled when he himself had awoken.
The beast gave the tiniest of nods, raising his head back up to his usual stance and shifting his gaze from the beheaded armor to his sleeping kin, very clearly scanning, trying to remember. Geronimo knew that look well, giving Ari a nod, making sure their mutual intention was clear. Oya took a few steps forward, putting himself within lunging distance of the table, his gaze still glued to its host.
Geronimo offered a little clarification. “His aid is yours, though I would rely on his instinct.” A polite way of saying “Whatever happens, give him room.” After all, few knew the minds of beasts better than the beasts themselves.
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Half awake in our fake empire
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May 22, 2015 17:07:33 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 22, 2015 17:07:33 GMT -5
The Basilisk took its time. Ari could feel it thinking, considering. It was the strangest thing he could ever think of experiencing. And to think that the Mandalorians of old had done this thousands of years before him. With all that their people knew now... to understand that so much more had been done with so much less; Ari was humbled by the thought.
In its time, the Basilisk made its decision. Ari stepped aside as it positioned itself closer to the near complete droid in the bay. Jendri gave voice to the droid's actions and Ari smiled at the suggestion. If only he'd had an assistant like this one when he'd awoken Skira. But he took the warning to heart as he moved toward the inactive droid. It lay on its side, its head between the front legs like some giant sleeping hound. Ari circled around to where the top of the head connected to the body and opened a panel there. Within, there was an array of wires and ports, all converging at one point.
This was the main processor, the brain. But it was more than that. Within the programming and the code, there was life. Ari still didn't quite understand it all, but there were things here he knew better than to meddle with. Somewhere in here, there was a soul. His dilemma was trying to fix what he needed to fix, without disturbing that. But to do this, he needed to make a comparison. From his workbench, he retrieved a long stretch of cable and connected one end to the inactive droid. Taking the other, he moved back to his new assistant and held it up for the droid to see.
"I need to compare your mind to his. I need to see what's moving, what makes you alive so that I can try to avoid those parts while I fix what's broken."
Ari waited, and when the droid consented, he opened its panel and connected the cord. With that in place, Ari moved back to the computer terminal on his workbench and booted up the diagnostics program. The holo images shifted, allowing a third image to appear. Ari gestured toward the new cluster of like and looked to the droid. "That's you." he said.
Unlike the other two images, this one was alive with light and movement. Projected before them was the living synapse of the Jendri's Basilisk War Droid. With this live feed, of sorts, Ari was now able to examine how processes flowed through the processor. The other two images reflected a static "snapshot" of an ancient recording of a Basilisk processor, and the processor of the "sleeping" droid in the bay. A trained eye could see the subtle shifts between the two and deduct which areas were more alive than others. He dove into work, quickly noting and highlighting the "no fly zones" of the near complete droid's mind. After some time, he'd narrowed down his target and set to work on reformatting. When he was done, he approached the Jendri Basilisk and removed the cable.
"Thank you." Ari said. "Now lets see if that worked."
Disconnecting the cable from the sleeping droid, Ari closed the panel and returned to the workbench. The protocol was keyed up on the console; all that was needed was to push the button. . . . . . . At first, nothing happened. Ari waited, his breath held for a moment before he realized it and relaxed. Give it a moment, he thought to himself. When the moment passed as there was still no sign of movement, Ari glanced toward Jendri and the other Basilisk, gave a shrug, and stepped closer. That was when the droid sprang to life with a deafening shriek, lashing out indiscriminately in all directions.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
1,616 posts
628 likes
...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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May 31, 2015 22:33:11 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on May 31, 2015 22:33:11 GMT -5
Oya only watched the Mando’ad’s movements and actions from the corner of its eyes, its “pupils” resting solely on its sleeping brethren. Its mind, if it was indeed a mind, retained the bulk of its focus on being alert and observant of the soon-to-be-woken droid, the other allocations to its memories and its databanks, trying to remember this particular soul.
Had they met before? If not, their initial encounter would be far more than interesting.
The Mando’ad asked if it might peek into the basilisk’s brain, and without a moment’s hesitation, the beast again nodded, its partner watching from afar, giving ample space to the red armor, the black basilisk, and the sleeping beast all huddled together. The functioning droid gave of its secrets and workings freely, actually breaking its gaze from the husk before it to observe its own inner workings for a moment.
Geronimo could see the look on Oya’s face. That curious setting that seemed to be just a bit more than mere observation. Just as the droid tried to relearn its life every day, he was trying to learn just how much of a soul could find harbor in mechanical parts.
Thus far? Far more than he’d found in some organic parts.
That was when the sleeping soul awoke with a shriek, a lashing arm, and what could only be surmised as its pent-up fighting spirit.
Oya sprang to action immediately, black legs immediately getting between Ari and the lashing new-born. The roused droid flailed in a panic, legs kicking, eyes scanning frantically, mental processes running left and right in a sudden crash of worldly information. One such front leg lashed out at the black basilisk, aiming square for its joint as the panicking beast scrambled to get up.
It would find itself quickly being put back down. A black leg batted the assaulting appendage aside, wasting no time in charging the stumbling body, sliding its head under its belly and rearing in a quick jerk. The wild droid found another moment’s panic in mid-air, landing with a hard bang of beskar-on-floor as it landed belly-up, its legs flailing ever harder to deter a continued assault.
It would not flail hard enough. Without a single sound, Oya launched a calculated leap, all of his legs smashing down on its bewildered little brother with dominant intent. Every leg found its identical and force it down to the floor, the servos of both beasts straining against one another, but the elder droid simply in a better position physically.
The only leg that wasn’t matched to a pair was one of Oya’s massive black forelegs. It, with its blade protracted just enough to be seen, aimed its point at the underside of the waking beast’s head, making it clear that its brain was forfeit if it didn’t start using it. The pinned droid continued to struggle, but found its pinned limbs and the blade to its figurative throat to both be ample reasons to at least be a bit more careful.
Both Oya and Geronimo exuded absolute silence and stillness. Whatever was to be done, Ari had his opportunity for it now.
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Jun 1, 2015 19:58:43 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jun 1, 2015 19:58:43 GMT -5
It did not come to being slowly, with each piece developing and shaping over time. It came to being all at once. Where there was nothing a moment ago, now it was there. It did not come to know itself slowly, but instantly. Legs and arms and thrusters and head were things... pieces, but no longer. The basilisk had not been, and then was. In a crash of visual stimuli and memory bank downloads, all that it meant to be a basilisk war droid flooded the circuitry of its mind, creating a sensation -if that were the correct term- of time smashing together, both having always been, and only just becoming. Nothing, not even darkness, and then everything.
It was too much. It was an attack. And in this moment of life beginning, it could not end. Not now. But this body, this existence was new, and though the memory of battle -never fought, but always known- was there, the process was still far too new. It flailed, at anything close to it's... body. From the depths of memory, it called forth sound. An ancient, powerful creature. A Krayt Dragon's scream. But it was being thwarted. Movements it had not commanded propelled it. It screamed again, lashing, but it was not positioned correctly. It was trapped. What held it? What...
This one. Black armor, same shape. This one was like itself. This one was old. It knew this. This one was in its memory banks. This one had slept for so long, but had been awoken. This one had a name. Kaysh'meg'miit'gaana'oyacyi... Oya. This was a brother. But it was being held down. It was trapped. It was still not safe. Two parts of its mind were at odds, war and peace. It twitched and started, unable to bridge the divide.
Ari had fallen back as the basilisk came to life. When it flailed, the elder droid had moved so quickly, Ari hadn't registered what had happened until after he'd been shoved and landed on the ground. And even then, he was still sitting there when the new droid had been flipped and pinned. It was the silence that finally stirred Ari to action. He glanced at Jendri, then jumped to his feet and retrieved his helmet from the work bench before sprinting over to where the two droids had come to rest in a sort of stand-off.
The new droid caught his approach and flinched under its larger brother, but was unable to free itself. Ari moved cautiously, trying to avoid the droid's one free leg. He neared the head, placing his form in front of the droid's visual sensors. "Look at me." he said, his calm voice filtering with a mechanical tone. "You know me." The basilisk had, like its brethren, been programmed with files on most of the high ranking Mandalorians. And while Ari still didn't consider himself one of such, as the one responsible for bringing the droids to life, he figured it might be good that they know him as well.
It took a moment, but the droid issued a grunting tone that might have translated to confirmation. Ari looked up at the older basilisk, then let out a heavy breath. "I need to hard link to the saddle." he said. "Please let it up."
After a moment, the elder droid obliged and methodically stepped away from the newborn. Ari could see the tension in the elder droid's stance and knew that it remained ready. The newborn took a moment to right itself, then stood to its full height. It drew up, then bellowed another Krayt Dragon cry and turned. It fired its thrusters and shot across the mechanical bay, smashing through the doors and out into the night.
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Fromikeable
Keeper Of The Techxts
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...and I'm comin'! *guitar riff*
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Jul 1, 2015 14:51:56 GMT -5
Post by Fromikeable on Jul 1, 2015 14:51:56 GMT -5
Even after being asked to do so, Oya was skeptical. The new one was still not ready to be unrestrained, still not right of mind. The world was yet too new; it needed minutes, hours even to process it all, to allow all of the data to sink in, to find the elements of its life and organize them accordingly.
At least, in its experience.
Alas, it acquiesced, slowly and methodically removing itself from his tactical position, leg by leg. Its blade retracted into its arm, and as it finally came to stand just off to the newborn’s side, it would find its fellow walking up beside it, arms crossed and sight deadset. The two of them looked identical, save for the different kinds of bodies; two striking sets of beskar, black as the night, red as blood, resolute and focused. Neither yet willed to abandon their mistrust or their caution, neither placated.
Their skepticism was rewarded as the newborn righted itself, took a moment to take them all in, and then rammed through the doors and out into the wilderness.
Oya glanced down at his partner. Geronimo gave a slight nod at the door. And with that, the elder droid was in hot pursuit, his profile low and his legs a blur.
The following silence in the bay afterward was palpable as Geronimo took in the sight of the damage. The doors thoroughly smashed, the floor marked with deep and sweeping impressions, the tools scattered, the table overturned…
… and in the middle of it all, a giant imprint where one metal beast had been held down by another. The scene of two souls testing one another, one panicked and fresh, the other calm and weathered.
He made a mental note to write about it later.
“You’ve borne an untempered soul.” He waved for Ari to follow, leading him quickly out of the rammed doors and toward the nearest exit. They would be greeted by mighty, lumbering forest that the facility had been tucked into, both for secrecy and safety. Awaiting them would be a few speeders, one of which the black armor mounted without hesitation. Firing up its repulsors and quickly linking his and Ari’s helmets with Oya’s tracker and a radio uplink, he would only add, “The only way to match a wildfire is with another, however.”
If Ari’s strategy to reign in his new partner was with calmness and sweetness, Geronimo couldn’t help but suspect that he was mistaken.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Jul 1, 2015 19:44:50 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jul 1, 2015 19:44:50 GMT -5
The old basilisks had been difficult creatures upon awakening. They'd raged or resisted in their own ways. Each had been a test of not only Ari's skill and determination, but of those Mandalorian brethren that bonded with the droids. But what Ari had never seen was outright opposition. However long they had slept, they remembered, and those memories were their own. They had lived, in their own way, with the Mandalorians; they had fought together and found victory or perished. But this one had never done those things. It had the memories, but the memories were not its own. A part of this became apparent to Ari as the newborn basilisk let out another ear piercing cry and stormed away. For a few moments, Ari did not move. A part of him wondered if it was best to let the droid go free. What real difference did it have from the wild beasts of this planet... of any planet? But the better part of his mind reminded that this droid was his own and he could not let it go so easily.
Ari moved into step with Jendri rushing quick as he could as the older basilisk gave chase to its new kin. Outside the hangar, a nearly full moon hung low in the sky, barely cresting over the tops of the colossal trees. Beneath the canopy, the moon's glow was lost into the pitch black of full night. From within the depths of the forest, the crashing sounds of boughs breaking and thrusters flaring echoed like a storm. Ari jumped onto the speeder next to Jendri and cranked the throttle, bringing the bike to life. In a moment, he was hurtling toward the darkness. His HUD flashed, showing the signal to linked with Jendri and Oya. Their comms were a garble in his ear for a moment before the link optimized. His HUD then switched to night vision as he moved into the trees.
It could not feel the air as it rushed past. It could not taste the dew and the humidity. It could not feel the warmth of the soil. But it could feel the freedom these things brought. Its clawed feet dug into the soil for traction as its thrusters fired in uneven bursts. Then, once its servos were primed and its engines warmed, it throttled up and took flight into the trees. Here, it could feel the branches as they broke against its armored body. Here it could process the information that still bombarded its mind. Memories that were not its own flooded its processors; data that had no context to it. It was unsure how to process it all, or what it meant. But it knew that captivity was no option. Better to flee than be captured. But... why?
The question gave it pause and, in that moment of confusion, it forgot to steer and collided with the massive trunk of a tree. It spun through the blow, coming back to the ground with a quaking thud. It shook its head, a programmed response to right the gyroscopic processors after sudden impact. Its engines were stalled as a result of the collision, leaving the basilisk droid momentarily stunned.
"Set a perimeter!" Ari called through the comms as he noted the droid's sudden stop. He downshifted through the gears of his speeder bike, slowing down in his approach toward the droid. He brought it to a stop a few meters away from the stunned basilisk and dismounted. He recognized the droid's movements as attempts to correct malfunction and could guess -by the spray of bark and branches around the droid, if nothing else- that it'd all be caused by a collision. Ari knew there was a short window here before the systems righted themselves and the droid was functional again.
He moved in, one arm outstretched toward the basilisk, the other held slightly up and in view to show it was empty and no thread to the droid. "Easy now." he said as he took careful step after careful step forward. The droid growled, but it was the sound of a dazed animal, not a cornered one. "That's it." he continued. "You're alright." He stepped sideways now, moving to position himself to mount into the droid's saddle. Once he was up there, the hardlink established between the droid and his suit would allow him more control to reign the basilisk in and give it the connection it needed to make sense of this new life it had so suddenly found itself in.
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