Greetings one and all, FX here!
Since my recommencement of these decryptions, it has come to my attention that one or two designations and facts might be slightly askew. I will be attending to these in due course, anything to keep my master nob01 quiet...
Today's chip provides a fascinating insight into the world of being a bodyguard, one fraught with danger you might expect. Well, read on...
03.002 - IG-100 - MagnaGuard
When I rolled off the line at Holowan Mechanicals, I knew I was built to kill, yet they hadn't held back on my logic circuits. Upon learning of my assignment to General Grievous, I knew that the trials ahead would be extreme, but I relished them.
My dark blue casing sucked the very light out of my immediate surroundings, and I used the shadows to my advantage, appearing as if made from the particles in the air themselves, to defend Master Grievous to the death.
And oh, how we trained.
My electrostaff became an extension of not only my limbs, but my programmed aggression, and the joy of repelling a Jedi's blade with its phrik coated shaft, before plunging one energy spike into their pathetic flesh, would never grow old.
After four months of field training, I was assigned to the General himself.
I wore my Kalee wraps with pride.
Most organics were easy kills. Clones were highly visible and independents lacked the coordination and resources needed for an effective battle. Still, my skills were tested, and more than once, by our Jedi opponents.
After a short time, the Jedi realized that our electrostaffs were immune to their weapons, and so attempted other techniques to incapacitate us. Their force powers gave them an advantage, but our sheer numbers and training soon overwhelmed them, and they eventually fall at the master's feet.
I remember my first Jedi kill, a Mon Cal on Cato Neimoidia during a Republic scouting raid.
When the General first heard of the scouting party, he insisted on meeting them face to face, rather than ordering a carpet bombing which would have cleaned them up in no time.
However he, and my team of six, met the party as they set up camp at the base of the mountains in the east. The clones were dispatched with ease, but the two jedi accompanying them were not so easy. I distinctly remember the General watching from the ramp of our lander, as we valiantly took on the force-users.
Two of us were cut down instantly, but the human Jedi had drained his energy, and several quick staff hits left him mortally wounded. The Mon Cal came at me with speed, but I easily deflected his blows and soon knocked the saber from his grasp. He then made his mistake. Instead of attempting to incapacitate me with his powers, he reached out for his weapon, and this was all the time I needed to plunge an energy spike through his chest.
The General finished off the human, and then admonished me for killing the Mon Cal before he could do so.
I believed his complaint was unfair, but I had no one to report it to, and I valued my head.
It had been two years since I became one of General Grievous' personal guards, and I had seen much death.
I realized that I might be decommissioned for my thoughts, but I believed that the General no longer fought for the larger cause. He seemed preoccupied with his own image, and his obsession with collecting the lightsabers of fallen Jedi led to many unnecessary terminations of my fellow IG-100's.
It appeared all we were good for was tiring out the force-wielding enemy, so that Grievous could saunter in and claim the kill, and add yet another trophy to line his cloak.
This is not what we were trained for, yet I cannot disobey my commands, and am constantly amazed that I am still in one piece.
This will be my final personal log.
When I was assigned to the 'Hand', I knew there would be trouble, especially since were holding the Chancellor. Sure enough, two Jedi attempted a rescue, and true to his form, the General decided to stand and fight, rather than make a tactical retreat and destroy the ship.
My fellow IG-100's and I fought brilliantly, but were no match for these two, and now I watch, from my head's position on the deck, as the General takes them on himself.
I think he has finally met his match.
I recorded too soon.
Who knows when I shall make my final personal log?
My batteries can only last so long, but I have no idea how long that is.
After the General made his brave escape through the viewport, I, along with my body and several other droids, was sucked out into the vacuum of space, and somehow managed to float through all of the destruction.
Now, as I watch the Invisible Hand plummet toward the surface, while the battle rages on all around, I can't help but admire the beauty of war.
Interesting, the damage doesn't seem too bad from out here....
And there you have it.
More to come!
- ► 2007 (17)
- A Trandoshan Tale
- A head for protection.
- The Truth Revealed
- Riding the Rays
- The Thin, Red, Dusty Line
- Superma..um..Battledroid Returns.
- I don't go south of the river, mate.
- An Empire marches on its belly
- Mother's Lube
- The Waiting Game
- Maul Tease Falcon
- Don't kill the messenger
- Bonk, Gonk
- The Searchers
- The Pick Up Artist
- The Pits
- Thank the maker? I think not.
- Vulture Culture
- PK Whopper
- A fiesty little one
- Rollin' rollin' rollin'
- The Comings and Goings of a Battle Droid
- The droids will be heard!
- ▼ July (23)