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The catwalk that had borne It0 to the ravine had left a fingerprint behind. A short, four foot long segment of platform and the coleopteran remains of a railing organics all too often clung to was still, albeit loosely, attached to the rock in front of Cestus and Zentripoli. The bulky droid...

"Shooting is not my style. Just...just...lay down suppressive fire. It0, you too. I'll try and get within melee range." Cestus dropped to all fours, gave a synthetic, dismissive grunt like that of a great ape before he steamed forward, his powerful motors rumbling into exaggerated life as...

Cestus stared at the desolate, ruined landscape before him without emotion. Well, truth be told, it wasn't emotionless rather it was cool and reflective. He contemplated the way organics seemed to complain incessantly about their circumstances, about the way their environment was irreparably...

Cestus's footsteps acted like punctuation. Each burst of information or small-talk being sandwiched between the heavy echoing beats as his massive weight lurched on. "The Skaven...(thunk)...are a swoop gang who have been gaining some ground...(thunk)...They're well equipped but that's the...

Cestus barrelled forward (no pun intended), his sheer momentum and weight cleaving the table in two. He dropped to all fours and bellowed, a strange and unnerving sound coming from a droid vocabulator but that was the point. He aimed himself at the woman as the warning from the commando droid...

His photoreceptors dimmed left him almost blind but he could still hear. Could still sense the presence of another. The echo of their approach made his sensors all but turn in their direction. At first he thought it half imagined, simply the strange and regularly irregular noises of...

The rifle landed in Cestus's massive mitt with a soft clunk. His digits were clumsy but with a little maneuvering he was able to get the weapon into position and as importantly, pull the trigger. The blaster tore into and through the droid's head. Satisfied that its 'brain' was destroyed he tore...

,Cestus inwardly nodded at Zen's somewhat panicked suggestion. As the droid strained to raise its remaining arm, complete with the auto cannon, Cestus closed the gap. Not exactly agile he made the effort of leaping up at the droid. Swinging his flail arm down at the plastic and metal skull...

He had fought droids as big as this before but armed like this, no. His shell torn, innards exposed, he had little more to do than go for broke. He reached down for the robots face, hooking the massive digits of his left arm into its photoreceptors and pulled up. His right arm took hold of...

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. THUNK! The sound echoed along the metal lined tunnels that connected the various factory plants that littered the choking, stinking district of Coruscant's surface called The Works. The factories were all but entirely droid and AI operated as the air around...

Cestus growled. He could hide. Or he could do the thing he'd done since his second activation, fight! He ran an instantaneous calculation through his processor and dropped to all fours. In this position his long arms were no longer a hindrance, he could move faster. He let out an...

Kill them all. It was a simple request. He dropped the crate onto the raider closest, a wet, sickening crunch broke the silent stalemate. The second raider shot Cestus with his carbine, the first shot bouncing off the curve of his torso's shell. The next punched a deep dent into the heavy...

"No." Came the droid's reply. "At least, not yet. I have an idea." Cestus reached into the truck and lifted an unmarked crate from its bowels, easily bearing it on his shoulder. "I shall approach from the front. You flank them. If things go wrong, feel free to shoot them." Without...

Cestus had followed the lead of the other two silently and diligently. His thudding steps nothing more than the steady rhythmic beat to accompany that disembodied, droning voice of the streets that entombed them. He watched as countless thousands busied themselves with banal, numbing tasks...

"C3-5T. Or Cestus, as the organics dubbed me. I like the irony. That the name they gave me to draw in the credits, will be the name that they learn to run from." He nodded his apeish head. Taking the offered manipulator. His receptors dulled somewhat as though blinking. He looked at the...

"That. Is why I am coming along." The rumbling engine of bass that was Cestus's voice drowned out the sound of his massive manipulators pulling the door to Zen's laboratory closed. He moved forward then, his bulk and matt bodyshell, made so by the myriad scratches and scorch marks, cast a...