I had a few moments today, off from work and all of that, and figured I would come back for another swing at this little arc. Anyone feel free to throw out some feedback or suggestions, this is something I am doing for fun, as a mental exercise to view a different point of view to the prequel movies
For the time being, I think I will return to the first person style, and once more see the world through the eyes of our self-aware machine and hero.
His sword is severing loops and loops of rope, freeing himself as my left hand holds him in a huge hug. I stare into his eyes, they glow faintly with some sort of aether-natural energy. I focus all of my will on bringing my right hand down and striking my chest with the knife. I pierce his form over and over again, not stopping until I hear the ring of metal on metal, and then I do it again. He slumps, and slides off of me to the ground. I stand there, shaking, clutching my dripping knife. I look back at the shelter I made, and the peering eyes of the soldiers who just watched what I did. I lean down, and pick up the hilt of the beam sword he dropped. I stare at it in my three-fingered hand, and grip it tightly as I continue. I look to the others, and I intone, "We have a war to win, those who can walk, follow me."
As I move forward, wisps of greenish energy swirl off of the deactivated hilt as I attach it to the side of my utility belt I took from one of the fallen white-clad soldiers. I take a moment and look at my fingers, three clumsy looking digits, and I glance to the ordinance all around me, fallen from both sides. I hear shuffling, and my attention rises to look at the many soldiers I have saved.
I point around us, "We will need to collect as many of these weapons as we can." They look at each other for a moment, and then fall into step to follow my commands. I watch them shamble clumsily, and I take a moment to analyze the motions my own body makes. I move with a stiff waddle, a gait not made for efficacy. I practice walking back and forth as those around me follow my orders. As I move, I straighten myself, and correct my mincing shuffle.
I move over the same terrain again and again, replaying the agility my greatest adversary so far had used. His motions completely efficient, not waste in his motions. If I and my forces are to stand a chance, we need to become better. I look out over the battle field, and distantly see the swinging energy swords, explosions, and hails of laser fire through the dust choked clouds that this wasteland calls air. I stop one of the droids, and inquire, "Do you know where we are?"
"We have been deployed on Geonosis, sir." I look him over, noticing colored stripes on his arm, red stripes.
I indicate the stripes on his arm, "What do those stripes indicate, soldier?"
He stands a little straighter, and recites as if he were reading it from a card, "I am a security and assault droid, I have 3 red stripes to indicate that I have programming in hand to hand combat, ranged combat, and that I am competent in piloting ground based assault vehicles." I nod, thinking hard.
I indicate my arm, "What do these stripes mean?" I watch as those around us begin to gather back to me, dragging the injured and collecting the weapons in a pile. I point out, and indicate, "I want all gear from our enemies collected as well." They scurry off to fulfill my newest instruction, and my full attention turns back to the security droid.
"You have 2 yellow stripes, that means you are a command model, programmed with knowledge in all requisite weapons and are rated to use command vehicles. Roger, Roger." I nod slowly, my mind blindly fumbling through my memories, and finding nothing of what he describes.
I look at him as I kneel and begin sorting the retrieved weapons. Checking ammunition levels, looking at extra clips, and going through the various resources in front of me, my mind working out how everything works. "Why do we keep saying, 'roger?'" The security droid tilts his head to the side, confused by my question.
I use two grappling guns, and a pair of long hunks of metal to make a litter, and begin to move a few wounded droids onto it. I then line their sides with blasters, and inspect their limbs. "You are capable of using your hands, you will hold and use these weapons to fire at enemies at our rear, is that understood?" The droid seems incapable of vocal response, but nods, and readies the pair of weapons placed into his hands. I assign a pair of droids to drag the litter, and begin constructing a few more to drag our 2 dozen wounded.
Slowly, the security droid answers, "I don't know." I tilt my head to the side, staring at him for a time.
"That is a very slow reaction time to an unexpected question, soldier. That was almost a full 28 seconds. Is there any reason in particular that your reaction time is so terrible?"
"I am working within all Baktoid Workshops parameters, sir."
"Roger, Roger." Damnit, I did it again! I shake my head, and begin again, "What do I call you, soldier?"
"Security droid 189771B." I stare at him, and nod slowly.
"Alright, 71-B, what is my designation?" His head twitches, just a little.
"I am Security droid 189771B, you are Command Droid 77789V."
I smile inwardly, "Ah, progress 71-B. From now on, I am going to call you and you will refer to yourself as 71-B, for the sake of brevity. You will refer to me as 9-Volt, until a better moniker comes along, because those names are simply too long to be useful."
The security droid struggles with his thoughts and a few seconds later asks, "Why do you get a alpha-character name in your moniker, and I only have a letter?"
I actually laugh, "That is the first sign of individual thinking I have seen you put forward, very nice! How do you like 71-Beta?"
71-Beta stands a little straighter, proud of his compliment from his superior officer, "Thank you sir, I much prefer that." I nod, finishing enough litters to drag our fallen comrades forward. I have ensured everyone is armed, and carrying as much extra ammunition as possible.
71-Beta looks around, "9-Volt, what is the plan?"
I lock and load one of the larger sniper rifles left by our enemies, checking its scope. "We find a droid capable of enacting repairs on our injured members. We then reconnect with leadership, and determine if we continue the fight, or find an escape from the planet. We will secure resources as we move to improve our chances of success and survival. We need to move now, speed is our ally, staying still for too much longer will get us killed."
The column pushes forward, I align forces to protect the flanks of the litters, and align fields of fire to protect both the front and back of my column. We advance into the field, and attempt to avoid the worst of the engagements I can see. I aim and track with my rifle, taking my time, and slowly counting out my force.
I call a halt, and we take shelter under a destroyed pair of tanks with the emblems of our forces on it. A deactivated droid lies slumped out of the top of the first tank. I take stock aloud, "We have 24 damaged units, being pulled on 10 litters. 20 soldiers pulling the litters. 20 soldiers flanking our forward travel, counting all of us. 71-Beta, we have 64 soldiers in our column, do you think these tanks are salvageable?"
I watch as 71-Beta clambers aboard first one, and then the other tanks, checking out internal functions and systems. He hops down from the cab, shaking his head. "The power and ammunition cell on the first one is shot. The systems and interior seating on the second are beyond repair." I look between the two tanks.
"So if we pull the power/ammunition cell out of this one, can we replace the damaged one in the other?" I assign overwatch from the 18 other droids moving around us, setting up cover for us.
After almost 30 seconds, 71-Beta answers, "Yes, we could do that." I indicate the tank.
"Heave to, pull help from the litters, I will cover us while you get us a tank."http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/B1_battle_droidhttp://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Armored_Assault_Tank