[center][color=wheat][h1]BD-5[/h1][/color]
[u][b]Interacting with:[/b][/u] Specifically Varan [@LetMeDoStuff]
[u][b]Location:[/b][/u] Crawler [b][i]ITC-63[/i][/b][/center]

[hr]

BD-5 had to suppress it's urge to crush the skull of this impudent, arrogant officer's skull underneath it's foot as he walked away out of the Crawler. The droid was currently in a state of charging, neither on or off, capable of hearing and seeing the things around it while uncapable to move. It was charging and it was damn annoying that the Imps found it when it was in it's most vulnerable state. Then they went and claimed that it was made by [i]their[/i] scientists?! Absolute rubbish. Like they could control an advanced, thinking Battle Droid. It was also pure luck that the guards of Tattooine were so bad at their jobs that they didn't even recognise a mercenary like it. It was almost offensive really. The nerve.

It contemplated whether or not to activate and reveal itself as a thinking, deadly Battle-Droid. Weighing up the different reasons, it decided to activate itself. What could a bunch of prisoners and their driver do to a Hyper Battle Droid? Jack shit, that's what. It couldn't escape of course, the amount of guards out there was sure to get lucky and hit it's vulnerable back. All it could do was tell the pilot that it wasn't one of their puppets. It's interest was piqued, it has heard that there were some special prisoners on this ship. It doubted that such a Crawler had any credits to speak of.

BD-5 activated with a small chime, it's plasma core humming with excitement. The droid stepped forward, making a large [i]CLANK[/i] sound, no doubt gaining the attention of everyone in the room. It's handy E-11 leaned on the wall next to it, picking it up with deliberate movement. It stalked towards the driver, some unimportant human called Mr. Roedam. It gripped the E-11 closely, pointing it to the side. It's mono bladed arm was to it's side while the blaster arm did the same. It didn't want to show hostility, just like a dull, normal Droid would do.

As soon as it was close enough to touch the driver, it stopped and looked down. It had an extremely deep voice, disconcertingly deep, but it sounded organic. Human. There were tones of fury underneath, as if the droid had feelings. "[color=wheat]I am Prototype Hyper Battle Droid Model 5, more famously known as BD-5. Mr. Roedam, I must inform you I am not the type of droid to be easily ordered around without the right credit.[/color]" It gestured towards the closed bay doors. [color=wheat]Those arrogant, infertile sacks of pus and faeces did not pay me enough for me to recognise their orders. But if you get any ideas, such as ordering me around without the right amount of credit, I will not hesitate to kill you[/color]" it pointed it's repeated blaster at him "[color=wheat]and the rest of these poor sods.[/color]" It then gestured with it's E-11 towards the crowd of prisoners and slaves.

BD-5 dropped it's weapon, proverbially glaring at the driver in front of it. It had no choice but to stay inside but it didn't mean it had to like the meat bags within it.