MZ-33 was not a nurse droid. They were not programmed to babysit dying Jedi. They were programmed for protocol procedures and of course covering fire if necessary. It has been a few times in their long tenure of working with Jedi. This was frustrating, sitting behind hoping that Commander Raynor didn't die. He was unconscious. Humans were fragile beings too.

The all-clear wasn't coming. The mission wasn't being completed. The droid factory was still pumping out enemies. Enough time had passed that it should have. Something had gone sideways. MZ-33 turned to the Commander who lay unconscious. She considered the course of action that needed to be done. The mission needed to be finished and she had been ordered to take care of the Commander by her Jedi. If she could sigh she would have.

Instead, she reached out and slapped the Commander. Commander. I need you conscious for this. We are ride or die Repulic boy. Get up. I'll carry you and you keep cover on me. We will get this mission completed."

The last thing Raynor remembered was the mine field. His old master, General Mozh, had told him to take a squad and scout ahead. He still only had the rank of Commander - he hadn't yet been promoted to the rank of General, even though he had passed his trials and became a Jedi Knight over a year ago. It bothered him, as he felt like Master Mozh was holding him back - but he pretended that it didn't. Jedi were supposed to be beyond those things. They weren't supposed to be attached - even in the heat of war, they were supposed to find strength in calm and serenity, never passion or anger. It was what he struggled with the most. Most Jedi in his lineage did - they traced back to Revan, the Prodigal Knight, the woman who brought the galaxy to its knees and came back from almost certain death.

The next thing he knew, he was being slapped awake by... a protocol droid? Raynor frowned, reaching out through the Force but feeling no one nearby. "Droid, what happened? Where's General Mozh? Or Commander Firtick?" His eyes darted around the room - he was in the medical bay. There was a bacta tank nearby that looked like it had been recently used - his mind was piecing it together. He must have been injured by the mines, placed in the tank, and... left with some protocol droid?

"Ah, well after your incident I was told to tend to you while they continued the mission. However, it is past the time when they should have completed it by almost thirty minutes. The mission must be completed." MZ-33 was like a hound dog with a scent. Determined to make sure the Republic survived. "I do not know what has happened to the General or Commander Firtick. I can only assume they have failed their mission." She didn't seem pleased with not knowing the answer.

"Do you believe you could walk? If not I shall carry you." At least Commander Raynor was awake. MZ-33 had been a little concerned that he might not wake up. The damage to him from the mines had been...extensive. Not that MZ-33 had any medical programming. Something she thought funny after all this time. Not a single Jedi she had worked with over the two-hundred odd years had bothered with it, and Avar Kriss hadn't seen the point all those years ago.

"I can walk!" Raynor protested a little too quickly, his eyes slightly wide in shock. He'd never heard a droid be so... brutal and candid like this before. They were usually programmed to be either devoid of personality or overly apologetic. He had to wonder how old the thing was. Droids tended to get a little weird if they went on too long without a memory wipe. Had this been the droid General Mozh had acquired, the one she jokingly told Raynor was his replacement went his time as a padawan concluded?

He swung his feet off of the bed, spotting a fresh set of clothes sat aside for him, as well as his comm link and lightsaber. Raynor quickly got dressed, glad to no longer be in his underwear in front of the droid, and he clipped his lightsaber onto his belt. His entire body felt incredibly sore, and his left arm hurt to move, but he didn't care. What the droid had said to him when he first woke up resonated with him - ride or die for the Republic. "What's your designation and capabilities?" Raynor asked. "No offense, but a protocol droid won't do much against battle droids."

MZ-33 watched Raynor as he walked making sure he was not lying about his capability. "I am MZ-33. I am a protocol droid. However, I do have blaster integration." MZ-33 lifted her arm and out of it popped the blaster that had been built into it. If the droid could smile it quite probably would have been as they spoke. "I was designed to work with a Jedi." This was said with a bit of old sadness. Grief long inscribed into the circuits of the droid.

MZ-33 didn't get into detail. The way her sentence clipped made it clear she didn't want to talk about it. That probably was another sign that MZ-33 was not your average droid. Desire and grief carried so clearly in her tone. "I was designed to assist in diplomatic matters...and escaping from diplomatic matters that went wrong." Again there was a grin in her voice.

"You are prepared then?" She paused giving Commander Raynor time to respond, then turned and started out of the room.

"Emzie, nice to meet you. I'm Commander Blake - but call me Raynor," he said, introducing him even though he knew without a doubt that Emzie already knew his name. He raised an eyebrow, hearing that a protocol droid could use blasters. It wasn't the weirdest thing to hear, but it was definitely strange, especially considering that all of their enemies that they thought were droids. If droids were sentient and had souls, he figured that would have been a little bit weird for Emzie. The next thing was particularly interesting - designed to work with Jedi? Designed by who? He'd never heard of a droid like that before.

"Let me recap - you're a protocol droid who can shoot blasters, rolls with the Jedi, and was designed to escape hostile situations?" he summarized. He looked more impressed than confused. "Who built you? And why aren't you, no offense, working with the clankers? I'd've thought droid engineers would be making bank with the Separatists." He rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck. Some Jedi liked to meditate before a mission. Raynor just liked to hear bones go pop in his body. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," he answered, following the droid.

MZ-33 tilted their head as Raynor introduced himself. He had called them Emzie, that was new. She liked it. Then Raynor launched into a series of questions. None of them about the mission. She tilted her head and his mention of 'making bank'. MZ-33 wasn't motivated by credits.

"Your recap is correct. I tend to keep the blaster under wraps and use it when I am most needed." In the heat of a battle sometimes one extra blaster could turn the tides. "As for working for the Separatists. I am not motivated by credits. I was built by Lothal Logistics Limited." Her answer while technically correct, was certainly not the answer he was looking for. "I was built using the RQ protocol droid frame."

Raynor was beginning to like Emzie - they had a lot of personality, for a droid. He also noticed a certain bit of candor that he appreciated. He didn't want anyone keeping secrets. He hit the button to lower the ramp of the shift, allowing him and Emzie to walk on off, hitting the planetary surface. From what he remembered, it wasn't too far to get to the location by speeder - by foot would take some more time, but they didn't really have a better option. It'd at least give him a chance to think up a plan and then relay it to the droid.

"What are you motivated by then?" Raynor asked. "In my experience, the droids with personalities tend to go a little rogue. Are you trying to save the General?" He then paused, closing his eyes and concentrating. He had a force bond with his Master, but he could not feel her. Either she was dead or his vision was being clouded by the dark side. He didn't tell the droid what he had felt - or more of, hadn't felt - as he began the long walk to their destination. "I'll come up with a plan, by the way, so no need to get your circuits going."

"I have an FV50 motivator chip. A rather state-of-the-art replacement that was made recently." MZ-33 said completely seriously, which made it extremely difficult to tell if MZ-33 was making a joke or not. As they exited the ship and stood on the planet's surface, MZ-33 was looking around. Her blaster reintegrated seamlessly into her arm. It was impossible to tell that the arm even opened.

"Saving the General would be a priority but is secondary after completing the mission." MZ-33 said in response to Raynor's second question. "This mission is critical for their success." She pointed upward, indicating the battle that must be either beginning to be waged or already started. They were already behind schedule. "As for going rogue, I assure you I will not betray you or the cause of the Republic. A hint of their age became evident in the way she said Republic. It was not the current battle they were necessarily claiming loyalty to, but a much older idea.

Raynor didn't pick up on the hint towards Emzie's age - he had never really met an ancient droid before, and it wasn't like he gave droids much thought beyond the most efficient strokes of a lightsaber to cut them into pieces. He knew that droids were an inevitable part of life, but it was still a little strange for his partner on this mission to be a droid, when they'd likely be facing Separatist droids in battle. They had to destroy the droid factory in order to keep the forces mobilizing on the station from being overrun. They didn't have much time left either - Emzie was right about that.

"Great, I feel a thousand percent better," Raynor muttered. His mind was running. He was training in the way of the Jedi Guardian - a natural fit given that the Jedi Order were heavily involved in the Clone Wars. He didn't have the infiltration skills of a Jedi Sentinel, or the negotiation knack of a Jedi Consular. "How are you with explosives?" he asked Emzie. "There's got to be a primary power source at the factory we can target, between the two of us I can clear the way, and you can rig it to blow."

"I am pleased you feel better." MZ-33 said taking Raynor's comment seriously. "I do not know how to use explosives. It is not in my programming. However, if you instruct me on what needs to be done I can follow the steps." MZ-33 said matter of factly.

A blue glow appeared showing the map of the droid facility. MZ-33 pointed to a room on it. "This is the primary power reactor room." A path lit up. "This was the planned path for the attack." There was a preganate pause and then MZ-33 said. "If we follow that path we are more likely to find resistance. It would be best to use whatever distraction the original team made to our advantage." It also would be less likely for them to find any survivors if there were ones to be found, but MZ-33 didn't say that. She wanted to see what Raynor's decision was without drawing the conclusions for him.

It was a test. Raynor could chose the more dangerous path that could lead to a higher chance of failure, capture or death. Or the safer path that was more likely to succeed. The harder path would also give them a chance to potentially save people. Neither was the correct answer, but MZ-33 knew which one her first master would have chosen.

"If you require other assistance let me know." It was a vague offer. Truthfully not very helpful considering how little Raynor knew about the droid's capabilities. If protocol droids blueprints were one thing someone had spilled oil over the blueprints that made MZ-33, and hadn't bothered to clean it up.

Raynor paused, before shrugging slightly. "Yeah, guess it would've been a bit alarming for a protocol droid to know how to rig a detonator," Raynor joked. He was slightly amused with himself. He never had been a huge fan of droids before, but Emzie was remarkably human. Their sense of humor was beginning to endear itself to him too. He fell silent though as Emzie brought up the map, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied it. He had been raised in the Jedi Order his entire life, taught that they must preserve the peace, that all life was sacred.

Yet for the duration of the Clone Wars, he had been a soldier in a war. He knew that the Jedi way wasn't always the way that won battles. And while other Jedi may have scoffed and chaffed at such thoughts, they were comfortable to Raynor... largely because he was already in violation of the Jedi Code. He had a wife. A lovely Twi'lek with gorgeous green skin and brilliant eyes, more stunning and radiant than anything he had ever seen in the galaxy. There were things worth defying the Jedi Council for. Sparky was one of them.

But could he give up hope that his former master, the General, was still alive? That the clones who had fought so bravely were lost? But if they failed, what about the lives of those fighting up in the skies above them? And those in the Republic who depended on the Jedi and the GAR? A sort of morose calm came over him. He could feel it through the Force. "Is there a secondary route to the core?" he asked Emzie.

Emzie saw the decision be made. It was a hard one. And they respected Raynor for it. "Yes. It was not chosen as the original path because it goes past a guard station. If they are distracted enough we should experience minimum resistance." The route on the map changed. Flicking to a new path with a red mark where the guard station was.

There was no guarantee it would work. The whole mission was a Hail Mary in a war of Hail Mary's. This wasn't unusual for Emzie. They trusted the Jedi on those types of missions more than they would trust a non-Jedi. The Force gave the Jedi an advantage.

"There is also a route that requires passing through ducting." The map changed again. "This was not chosen because Clones would not fit."

Raynor nodded, taking in the path near the guard station. His master was dead. He couldn't deny the part of him screaming to destroy every last droid and Separatist to take vengeance on her behalf. But this was bigger than either of them - and he knew his master would have consoled him that she was part of the Force now. The best way to honor her and ensure her sacrifice had not been in vain would be to complete the mission - to help turn the tides of the battle happening up on the space station orbiting the planet. "I'm not chubby, but I'm also pretty much the same size as a clone, so that way won't work," Raynor told Emzie. "Guard station seems like our best call. It's direct and any droids that come near, I can handle."

"Anything else to be aware of?" Raynor asked, hesitating for a moment. He knew that Emzie couldn't feel things through the Force as he did. "... My master and the others... They're gone," he then said quietly, his eyes shining with pain that he was struggling to allow himself to feel. The Jedi Council always preached serenity, not passion - that they could only find strength through peace and harmony, not rage and vengeance. Emotions had to be identified, understood, and then allowed to fade away.

He didn't know how to do that though. All he could do was channel his grief into the task at hand.

If Emzie believed Raynor they showed no sign either way. Though, Emzie had traveled with enough Jedi to know that Raynor was telling the truth. There were of course powerful ways to cover the Force signature of someone, but it would be nearly impossible on this scale. Emzie trusted that Raynor was correct. That left her without a master. She considered this and put it aside. The mission was to come first. Then she decide what to do.

"I do not know of anything else you should be aware of." Emzie said in response to his question. "Our time is short though." They looked up to the sky their internal chronometer telling them that even if they were successful it was very likely it was too late for it to matter. Emzie started walking.

"May the Force be with us, then," Raynor bade, walking alongside the droid. His master's legacy felt heavy upon his shoulders. If they failed, then their sacrifice would have been for nothing. They were one with the Force now, he knew that was what the Jedi taught, yet Raynor couldn't sense them anymore. He couldn't feel his old master, even in the cosmic force. Tears dropped from his eyes despite himself and Raynor didn't wipe them away. He didn't want to admit that he was struggling to remain objective and focused, to harness serenity rather than passion, calm rather than rage, acceptance rather than grief.

Some time later, they arrived at the factory. The droid construction factory. It was the key to the fight in the skies above the planet. It was the key to freeing Ringo Vinda from separatist control. Already outside of the factory, bodies of clones and droids alike littered the ground, showing clear signs of blaster fire. Raynor didn't dare try to pick out a familiar set of armor and he did everything he could to actively not look for the robes of a Jedi. "Which way?" he asked Emzie, crouching behind the rubble of what had been a droid tanker.

Emzie stood near Raynor. They pointed in the direction they needed to head. If they noticed Ryanor's tears they said nothing about it. "The door we want is that way just over 70 meters. It will be past a collection of pipes. The door is locked by an electronic keypad. I can bypass it."

There were corpses littering the ground between them and their destination. Emzie showed little reaction. But started moving. They went quickly toward the door, stopping at it and pulling a wire from themself before inserting it into a small plug on the keypad. It took a moment and during that time Emzie seemed unconcerned with anything that was happening around them. It appeared as if they completely trusted Raynor to deal with any threat.

Raynor followed Emzie's finger (finger?) in the direction they pointed, doing his best to sweep his eyes past the corpses. He couldn't do anything for them now - they were one with the Force. All he could do was honor their memory and complete this mission - to protect the Republic and the billions relying on the Jedi Order to stop the Separatist threat. "Emzie, can you scan for life signs? This place... It's clouded in the Dark Side." He wasn't too prideful to admit that his mind was disturbed here. The afterglow of death emanated into the Force, making it difficult for him to sense if there were any living beings here. He was a Jedi Guardian of course, not as skilled in the Force as say a Sentinel or a Consular, his primary talents lying in combat.

They reached the door - just past the piping as Emzie had said. And suddenly, a deep feeling of distrust and suspicion burst inside of Raynor. He paused. "There's something here, I think - not droids, but..." his voice trailed off, as Raynor closed his eyes, trying to focus on what it was that he was sensing - what was lurking around, using the darkness of this slaughter to conceal themselves from his sight.

The door then glided open with a puff of air, as Emzie successfully unlocked it. The hallway was shrouded in smoke, likely from some sort of damaged coolant or whatnot, and sparks of electricity from exposed wiring brought the occasional flashes of light. Something was at the end of the hallway - a figure, difficult to make out whether it was a droid or something alive. There was then the sound of something heavy rolling on the ground, as three destroyer droids popped up in front of them, their shields going live as they opened fire on Raynor and Emzie!

"I do not read any life signs." Emzie said as they finished opening the door. Inside the building, it seemed that someone was coming to intercept them. Emzie was certain that whoever this was they were still a droid. Dashing forward their path was blocked by the three destroyer droids. Their plan failed.

However, not one to be deterred easily, Emzie released their blaster from its hidden compartment and shot at the figure behind the destroyer droids. The shot wasn't clean, but it still hit the figure. Maybe, Emzie thought, this would give a distraction for Raynor allowing the Jedi to join the fight with an upper hand. It would only work this once. Emzie had started them.

Raynor was startled for a moment - it had to be a droid, right? But a sickening feeling in his stomach told him that something was very wrong here - that there was some grave imbalance in the Force. If it was a machine they were facing, it was somehow...

The thought vanished, as Raynor's instincts took over. His lightsaber ignited - a glowing shade of blue, the weapon of a Jedi Guardian. He spun his blade through the air, deflecting the blasts back at their source. Emzie had hit the figure from behind the droids, and the destroyer droids had their shields up, continuing to send blast after blast. While he didn't consciously think it, Raynor knew the two main weaknesses of destroyer droids - their shields did not stop stationary/extremely slow objects, and they were blind from behind.

Ordinarily when working with a Jedi, Raynor wouldn't need to tell them the plan - they would sort of feeling it, coming to work together in harmony. He didn't know if Emzie knew what he was going to do. But there was no time to stop. Whatever the thing was behind the destroyers, it was wrong. He just had to hope that Emzie had grenades or something on them, something to help them kill the destroyers.

Raynor force jumped over the destroyers, landing down behind them. He slashed his lightsaber from up high, the figure he was attacking still mostly in shadows, expecting to be able to slice the thing in half -

But instead, his blue blade met a scarlet red.

"What are you?!"