The meatbag, or supreme meatbag, was taking his time, as usual, with small talk. HK considered vaporizing him, but realized that wouldn't help, nor would it serve much of a purpose. Musing as to whether or not he could dispose of the chancellors body using only what was in the Office, he spoke...
The droid complied without resistance, as the package which would enhance its protocol function was installed, thereby allowing it to communicate more fluidly, and to interpret orders without having to massacre everything in sight.
All in all, everyone's a winner. Taking the ship into land, the...
OOC - As agreed, this thread takes place roughly a week before the current PvP Thread 'The Oligarchy'.
He had been here for hours, tapping around the office like some sort of low grade clerking droid. The HK unit, had he had lungs, would have sighed. Curse the maker for his damnable protocol...
As he took the controls, the HK-51 unit mimicked the behavior and skill of his trainer, calculating as he did so, whether or not this ship would meet his requirements. Piloting the vessel into a rough orbit around the planet beneath them, he excused himself, claiming that he had a bug in his...
To be stuck with a dancing droid, in a war zone, really summed up his luck. HK-51 calculated the odds of him not replacing the dancers motor core with glue, as minimal. The assassin droids surprise only grew when he saw the dancing protocol unit drop a Supernova grenade down one of the vents, as...
Planned Update: Adding in Republic Sanctioned firearms, in addition to updating backstory to bring it up to date with recent affairs. Further updates will include current, and past assignments.
The RSS 'Glory of Mandalore' (ironically named given the state of the Republics relations with the Warrior World) touched down on the Military Facility Landing Pad with all the grace and panache of a Bantha on heat. Around it milled dozens of landing attendants, eager to see their charge...
Juddering slightly as the ship punctured the atmosphere, the HK Unit resisted the urge to inform his pilot as to the statistical probability of death, apparently humans did not like being informed of 'the odds'. Mapping what the man was doing, in comparison to his own subroutines however, showed...
"Correction: Meatbags, we call you meatbags." he added, following the sentient into the room and taking a seat in the copilots chair. Painfully, he had to admit that he had never obtained or trained himself in the full arts of piloting and combat, indeed his only real abilities in that area...
Statement: I am always in a state of constant readiness for the immediacy of combat.'' replied the HK Unit almost immediately, flabbergasted by the sheer audacity of the man to think that he was not ready for what was to come! Was the sapient not aware of his superior processing? Was the...
This was most likely massively illegally, however HK-51 didn't really care, the concept of morality being something of a grey area for his kind. Skulking through the shadows, a Nova-67 rifle in his hands, Sonic Blaster at his hip, he was being super stealthy, almost cat like.
Well, as cat like...
"Definition: 'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometres away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope."
"Statement: This definition, I am told, is subject to interpretation. Obviously, 'love' is a matter of odds. Not many meatbags could make such a shot, and...
Another meatbags gets away, sighed HK, as he acknowledged the instructions of his Master and followed his party toward their meeting place. There was only one door leading up to the overlook, and HK dismissed the one Organic Guard standing there, taking out a Nova-67 Rifle from a compartment...
Organics!, cursed the HK Droid, as he watched more flirtatious exchanges between just about anything and anyone with a pulse in the room. Unable to control themselves it seems, he thought to himself as he ignored the Mandalores odd attempt at sabotage. Was he not aware that mere fluid could not...
456.7 million methods calculated the Droid, with each second that passed, he became ever more endeared to the tray in hands, which had it seemed, developed a myriad of uses.
Smashing the Mandalore to the Ground, his glorious rustic sheen glinting beneath the lights of the chandelier as he...
Turning away from the Chancellor, a moderately pragmatic meatbag, HK-51 made his way through the hubbub of the crowd, expertly balancing the tray of drinks on his hand as he did so. Approaching the Mandalore, he blended in perfectly with the other serving Droids, and whilst it was tempting to...