Ask You know your friends, when the chips are down...

Discussion in 'The Story' started by Sangga, May 8, 2017.

  1. Sangga

    Sangga Well, there's two schools of thought on that.

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    [​IMG]

    'Everyone should always have some level of pain in their life... that's when we know who our true friends are, what we are truly made of, and how long we can last when pain is inflicted.' - 'The Doctor', a droid that seemed to be owned by Zosma.

    Unknown to Captain Hart and for now, the crew...
    Location: Ryloth
    Co-ordinates: R-17
    Sector: Gaulus Sector
    The iron oxide was the same colour as the roasting sky. The skittering of some rocks kicked up by some nearby Blurrg, could be heard as the wind died down. Out here in the Wastes of Ryloth, everything wanted to kill you... even the daylight wanted to kill you! As the wind kicked up, the screams of some poor soul that was not as lucky as those around them rolled through a valley. Little did any would be hearer know, that the screams were not in the Wastes... they were under it.

    -=-=-=-=-=-​

    Darkness giving to glowing light, he'd been bathed in the neon glow of Nar Shadda; a brief respite from the empty plains of Arkanis. The Kid had wanted to go see a friend and he'd chauffeured her to the pustule of the galaxy. He didn't want to leave the ship at first, it was safer on the ship. But nothing beat the thrill of the Pazaak den. Cigarra's, choice Naboo Pear Wine, or keeping your skin by flying your arse; none of them came close to winning it big. But Hart had certainly lost this time. He'd taken one too many credits from one too many people that evening. Greed, was a powerful motivator; Hart's most powerful, and other's most consuming.

    -=-=-=-=-=-
    The lights shone so brightly that he suddenly went blind and sank into the darkness that he awoke into. They'd stripped him of his low-light glasses, his duster, his guns and even his hat. For however long he'd been here, Hart tried to stay together. He paced out his 'room', played pazaak in his head. He'd almost given up when the door opened. "Well, well, Mr Hart... You sleemo... How you are the different man, unshaved and all alone..." The squat, rotund, crimson Jablogian waddled into the room. Hart recoiled and hunkered into the corner of the room. "...You look terrible, well, more than normal for you human types..." His combat droids stalked in, with a large, hairy creature and a floating droid with multiple arms, and a large, red, single, glowing eye.

    [​IMG]

    "Is this the patient?" The droid began chattering internally, cogitation banks and memory were working in the brief moment the wookie grunted something. "Ah yes, Hapan, thirty-five, well fed, well bred and under significant emotional strain. Already been through intensive treatment for three weeks." At this Hart stood up straight, trying to put on a show of resilience in the face of his enemies.

    [​IMG]

    "Treatment? You got a wire loose, bolt-brain." he glanced at the stubby alien and noted with a crooked half-smile that he was annoyed. However, the wookie had as well and it charged the Captain. Grabbing his throat and hefting him up with one hand. Throwing a blow with his free hand, into the Captain's side; breaking a rib. Hart let out a yelp, then silenced as the multi-limbed droid approached.

    [​IMG]

    "Oh dear, it would appear that further treatment is required." Hart's eyes widened, staring at the single, glowing eye. His pupils reflecting the deep scarlet. His vision consumed by this threat, as the wookie struck him in the jaw. The pain of his rib being smothered by that of a dislocated jaw and then the embrace of unconsciousness.

    He awoke on a table, bathed in bright light, and nothing but the restraints providing him dignity. "So, will you tell us where my slave is? Where Kiba's money is? Where are your friends Hart?" The drill whined and the screaming sang on the wind once more.
     
  2. StarWriter

    StarWriter Member

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    Five years in the company of people with whom he'd fought beside, bled with, caroused until all hours of the night after draining casks of booze, traversed the breadth of the galaxy in one adventure after another, let himself grow close to and in one case, allowed himself to fall in love. When compared to the many years prior of lonely solitude and singular existence these had been the best time of his life, with luck there would be a great many more to come. Even as irritable and crotchety as his fellow captain could be he had come to regard Quint Hart as family, his clan away from home, A.C.E. And if there was one thing that should never be done is to threaten a Mandolorian's clan.

    It had nearly broken his heart when Alisha told them that Hart had been taken, knowing that she probably blamed herself for it even though they all knew that Hart could take care of himself more often than not. And what could anyone do when facing overwhelming odds alone? Regardless of where they were and what they were doing he called every single member of A.C.E. aboard the Double Entendre and sped towards Ryloth to meet with Alisha and spent the last three weeks scouring the planet, discreetly seeking out information on Hart's whereabouts. There was a cold calm to Kyllan's demeanor as he tactically lead the others to the coordinates he had been given by a contact of his on the planet. In the middle of the wastes, under the glaring heat of the sun the Entendre set down a few clicks away so as not to alert any early warning systems of their approach. Their landing was nearly an hour ago and as T3 came to a stop in front of them all he beeped.

    "There." A finger pointed to the ground in front of the droid, seemingly nothing more than an ordinary rock and sand.

    The robed form of their resident Jedi Knight stepped forward, hands outstretched and eyes closed. "I feel it. A false hatch and many minds below...guards...a Jablonian...Wookie...and...Hart!" Tycho's eyes snapped open suddenly and the Jedi's breathing became labored. "Karabast...what have they done to him..." Briefly able to sense his mind and the pain that had been wrought upon their comrade's mind and body caused a tremor to his voice. With a jerk of his hands the rock lifted and the subtle tearing of metal could be heard as he ripped open the facade, exposing the interface for the metal access point to the facility below the surface.

    T3 sped up to it to access the junction beside it, disabling the security protocols for the door and cutting off the alarm so that it could be opened without alerting those below. The astromech spun around and chirped at the rest of them.

    Kyllan stepped forward, anti-materiel rifle secured to the magnetic plate on the back of his armor. Heavy blasters on his thighs and rings of grenades and extra power cells in pouches along his belt. He placed a hand on T3's 'head' and glanced over his shoulder to the others, voice coming through with the electrical sound of the helmet's speaker. "Good work Teethree. Lizz, stay with Arrone and Tippy on the ship. You're on standby on the Entendre for extraction and support. Tycho leads with Teethree. Then me, Alisha, Pip, Neroka and Kat. As soon as we're in, Teethree will find a computer interface and transmit the layout to the rest of us. Find where they're keeping Quint. Pip, Alisha. You're our best techs, you're on sabotage duty. Guide us and help the rest of us make it to him. Download anything we can use and make sure no one else can ever use this place. Tycho, Kat you protect them. Teethree comes with me." The armored warrior looked to Neroka. "You've known Hart longer than any of us, you're with me. Remember your time on Tanaab, put that knife to use." Taking a step towards the ladder leading down once the hatch opened, he pulled the vibroknife from his belt. Though they had formulated a last minute plan it didn't hurt for him to remind them what everyone's tasks were.

    "I know how much I want us to blow this place to hell, but not yet. Not until we get that crotchety bastard out of there. If you see someone, take them out quietly. But if the alarm sounds bring them down with everything you have." His impassioned and enraged words were meant to bolster his friends as he took a step back and dropped suddenly down the half a kilometer descent down the hole. Which was wide enough for even Pippa's walker to traverse, under the assistance of Tycho who would lower her down the passage with the guidance of the Force and set her down behind Kyllan before scrambling down the ladder himself. T3 followed suit with Kyllan, using his jets to quickly descend and stop before the Mandolorian.

    The ignition of the jetpack behind him arrested his descent just before reaching the bottom and as his boots touched the durasteel plating of the emergency exit of the facility he'd spent weeks tracking his friend to, his focus was singular. Even the approach of his companions were muffled as he stood guard, waiting. Tycho had mentioned the presence of a Jablonian, here, in this place and he hoped with every fiber of his being that it was Zosma. The knuckles of his right hand were white beneath his glove as he gripped the hilt of that blade tighter. After five years of hunting that slug would get the reckoning of his life. And he didn't even know it yet.
     
  3. Frannykins87

    Frannykins87 Member

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    The last five years of Alisha's life were remarkable to say the least. Yes there were a few close calls, and some tension every once in a while, as is normal in a group of people with different background, culture and beliefs. But overall, Alisha would smile at the good times they've had so far, and has grown even more optimistic for the future. She's never been happier, and she knew she could count on every one of them with her own life. Especially Kyllan, who she could not help falling completely for, in a relatively short amount of time. It was a great team, and Alisha was grateful for being part of it.

    However, at the moment, she was pale and nervous as she listened to Kyllan. She feels partly responsible for Hart's capture, making her stomach churn, bu she intends to do all in her power to get him out. That creepy ball of fat was going to regret laying his grubby hands on him. She barely slept the last three weeks and ate very little, to the point that Kyllan, who she now shares quarters with, had to almost force her to eat properly. But she had to steady herself for this. Hart needed them at their best. She took a deep breath as she listend to Kyllan's plan.

    "Pip, Alisha. You're our best techs, you're on sabotage duty. Guide us and help the rest of us make it to him. Download anything we can use and make sure no one else can ever use this place"

    She nodded quickly. She looks over her good friend in the metallic armour. She almost smirks, it was always a little bit funny to her. But not today. As Kyllan finished his speech, Alisha's eyes gleamed again a bit. She was so dam proud of the man, and so very happy to be by his side. Alisha followed the rest down the ladder and spoke very softly to Pippa.

    "There is probably a way of switching off the alarms for a brief period of time..If we could find an access console somewhere, I think it would be rather useful. We can always also shut off power for a short time. What you think?"
     
  4. Pippa

    Pippa The Inconsistent

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    Lizz nodded and took up position on the ship, keeping an eye on the comms ready to power up at a moments notice to cover their retreat.

    Pippa descended in her walker just above Alisha. Avoiding the ladder for fear of the damage her near half-tonne walker might do to it, she lowered herself with a grav mount and a cable. Keeping the cockpit open so she could whisper to the others instead of blaring over the walkers external speakers she replied in similar hushed tones.
    "We will need to know if this base has one or more points of power failure before we can power it down. In all likely hood there will be back ups allowing the security and safety features to remain online in the event of a power outage. This may include Alarm systems. Ideally if we can access a data port with TeeThree's assistance then we may be able to deactivate the alarms altogether, at that point shutting down the power may well have the same effect that would have happened if we had tripped an alarm, albeit with lowered lighting and greater confusion. Ideally it would be good to gather as much information from any kind of data-base they may have and for this we will need power. If we do want to attempt to shut down power to the site at large I could probably rig my walker to power a console maybe giving us the access we would need to still search their systems. However, despite my improvement with a blaster I will need assistance while the walkers systems are powered down."
    The walker touched down gently and Pippa detached the Grav clamp. As the weight of it gently settled Pippa limbered up its close combat weapon. If there were guards to be taken down quietly they would have to save the blasters for later. She engaged the fine motor controls and took a few gentle swings to re-sync her hand-eye coordination with the walkers arms. Confident that she had the controls synced at last she held the massive vibro sword at the ready.
     
    Last edited: May 16, 2017
  5. Killa Ree

    Killa Ree She's a Killa Queen

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    The sight of her home planet was a bag of mixed feelings, that was for sure.

    Guilt, for having dragged the crew into this. If she hadn't stayed, perhaps this all would have been avoided. She could be tracing her way through the Outer Rim again, and not here, in the midst of dust, wind and sun. And then the reliable anger and rage, because here they had her friend and Captain. Here, they deliberately dragged in a man that was doing his work. And for what? A fistful of creds. She hoped Zosma was in there. She wanted to put her vibroblade at his throat and let him see the terror of captivity. In response to that vicious thought, her hands clenched against both blades strapped on. But one glance at the faces around her, and she merely shrugged her shoulders once, and descended after Alisha, keeping her gait as light as possible.

    "Will do," came the reply, hushed as she clambered down the ladder to land nimbly beside Alisha. Glancing over at Tycho, her smile was a bit grim as she unsheathed two of her blades, the third still tucked within the small of her back, and the whip still secured. "Ready? If my instincts are correct, this may get a bit hairy. And.. if you see that cowardly red son-of-a-Bantha..." this was addressed to all of them, her face a mask of pure anger waiting to be used, "... Leave him to me. He and I have some unfinished business."

    Hart, you old codger, you'd better be all right, or there will be hell to pay, she vowed grimly, shrugging her shoulders to ease the knots of tension that were starting to tighten again. But I still can't help getting a bad feeling about this.
     
  6. Kaylon Neroka

    Kaylon Neroka The Storyteller

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    Five years had been a long time to get to know the people Neroka now lived with. Admittedly he reckoned his own personality had changed the most in the time he had stayed with them. Where in the first few weeks of their stay he had been wracked with nightmares, now, he took comfort in knowing he didn't have to watch his own back all the time. That is to say, as a hunter he could never bring himself to truly relax his guard, but he could fondly remember times when each of them had watched his back and saved his life a fair few times when he'd made mistakes and his guard had wavered.
    He'd still say he was rusty, physically out of practice, but then he would never be as fighting fit as when he was younger. But he had felt more at ease in spite of it, with the others alongside him.
    He could even look out for Tippy where before he had such a dislike for its kind. Alisha had been right about its behaviour, but that had been countered by the little droid's numerous contributions over the years, at least in Neroka's mind.

    The picturesque memories Kaylon had for the team had been tarnished by Zosma's actions, and the disappearance of Hart. An offense that brought back unpleasant memories of his own earlier life that drove him on to see to Hart's return, galvanizing his motivation to see the Yoania's captain returned.
    Weapon in hand, he slowly walked from the ramp of the Entendre once they had landed. Stowing his rifle aboard the ship following Kyllan's tactical briefing with a silent nod. His knife was drawn in its stead and letting the fingers of his off-hand caress the sidearm at his hip. Years had shown him just how capable these people were and he'd be loathe to say he didn't respect and appreciate each of them in their own unique ways since they had first met in the jungles of Taanab. That felt like such a distant memory now, having spent as much time with this troupe as he had fighting for his life on his own and in the wild. Had it really been that long?

    They had each descended into the depths of the hole, an impressive entrance for a hideout but something that wasn't going to stop their team by any means. He'd descended with them into the depths by the ladder and followed at Kyllan's six o'clock.

    Readying his knife and hearing Kat's claim on Zosma, he looked to her and saw the mask of anger across her features. He nodded.

    "I'm sure you'll get your chance soon enough" He'd see to it Hart was recovered, and the least he could do was let the Twi'lek confront Zosma if they met him. He was sure a queue might form behind her.

    His eyes glanced around to the others in their party, the jedi especially. They had certainly come along way in those five years, and met a lot of strange new people. His gaze returning to Kyllan and with his hand gripping the knife with tense anticipation, he followed the Mandolorian's lead.
     
  7. Sangga

    Sangga Well, there's two schools of thought on that.

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    The high Red Dawnstar, flows in the sea of darkness, soon to join some more.
    Darkness again, how he hated the darkness. Where was the Dawnstar, even in its light he could see! He could focus and form a defence, he could muster some resolve. But this darkness was so detached, smothered in oppressive half numbness. He tried to make sense of his surroundings, but not a single landmark wa offered. No bastion of detail, no hillock of information.He tried listening and all that he could hear was the frantic repeat of his heart and the drone. The unending drone that permeated his entire body.

    He did not know how long had passed when the Dawnstar returned. At first it was such a distant light, almost dim as the darkness tried to devour it. Unintelligible sounds swam in the ear that was still submerged. Swells of tone and sharp staccatos of diction that were wasted. Still the Dawnstar loomed overhead, its sisters lighting ub and the ever expanding arms of darkness were staunchly trying to submerge them once more.

    A shrill noise followed by a pain that caused the darkness to swell, a pain that caused the re to bloom elsewhere in his vision, until the darkness came once more. Sound leaving him and finally he was embraced once more.

    Pain breaks down one's Will, showing you are not yet done, pain changes again.
    "You don't have to be like this Hart, although I can keep you here indefinitely." Hart lulled in the chair. Everything was so bright, working to contrast the confines of the 'Medical Droid'. He just relished that there was no sharp pains in his face and the back of his head. "Talk to me Hart, tell me what I want to know. Tell me of your compatriots, tell why you quit on this job, why you betrayed me. Have I not been good to you over the years?" Hart chuckled, it sounded the entire opposite of what laughter was intended for.

    "Ugh... ptoo." A globule of blood and organic matter was spat in the direction of the tubby alien. Quint looked out of his one functioning eye and glared. The stump of a being was quivering with rage. At last, something to hold onto. He knew that the Jablogian wanted something he knew. That would be held onto, that would keep him sane. But joy was stifled. The lights went out and an all too familiar star rose.

    A growl in the dark, a brightness that kills like fire, not beast but monster.
    The tunnel would beckon them to go deeper, as the last one made footfall, he pressed the remote and the hatch hushed as it sealed. The low lighting of the tunnels reminded him of the sunlight through the canopy of Kashyyk. The hunt was on, it would go one of two ways. the patient kill as they stumbled upon him, or the prey would wonder too near the Master. The growl echoed his annoyance, he hefted up the warcaster and waited.
     
  8. StarWriter

    StarWriter Member

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    There was a stillness to his body as Kyllan stood there in the corridor peering around the left side of the blast door. Then the right. Behind him he could feel the eyes of his fellow crew mates. No, that wasn't right. They had stopped being just that a while ago. After blood and hardship. Success and failure. They had become as close to the once solitary Mandolorian as family. A rare thing out in the hostile environments of the outer rim or nearly anywhere else in the galaxy. Especially doing what they did.

    As Kat's enraged voice whispered out just behind him a few meters he gave a nod, knuckles clenched around the vibrosword in his right hand and the knife in his left. "You'll get it. But I can't promise I won't hobble him a bit if I see him." They all had a stake in this, Kat most of all. What grated at the mandolorian the most was the knowledge that one of his friends was being harmed and had been likely for some time.

    T3 whistled softly and he nodded before stepping out into the next passage, the droid following suit right on his heels. "He says he located a command hub this way." With that he quickly stalked down the corridor along the right wall, a series of doors lined every twenty meters or so. At each one the astromech made a derogatory sound, wrong one. Wrong one. Wrong one. Right one, beep!

    There was a soft swish of the door next to him suddenly sliding open as a mercenary in light armor stepped out and bumped into Kyllan. The pig faced Gamorrean began to stumble back from the unexpected impact when it was suddenly grabbed by the mouth and spun around and into Kyllan's armored chest. Knife hand around its face and shoulder as his right arm suddenly shoved upwards, sending the blade of his melee weapon driving up into the disgusting creature's chest as that knife sank down into its throat. The faint squeals of pain were barely audible as he lowered it to the floor before ducking into the room itself. A small mess hall by appearance where another foul smelling Gamorrean was gnawing on a large piece of meat and nearly drowning out the conversations of the half dozen mercs that were lounging, drinking to the point of inebriation and otherwise wholly unprepared to find a very angry Mandolorian stalking them. Before any of the hired thugs even knew something was wrong two of their number had their throats slit and the Gamorrean was slumped over his food with a vibrosword protruding from his back.

    A merc that was less intoxicated than the others frantically jumped from his seat, blaster in hand only to have it ripped from his grasp for no reason, to his astonishment and the confusion of his compatriots as Tycho stepped into the room and tossed the eight men into the air like rag dolls with a single shove of his open palm. The blaster he disarmed was torn in half by the Force before clattering to the floor. The guards were so taken aback by the intrusion that what few cries of distress they made weren't overly audible beyond the doorway. A knife tossed from Kyllan slammed into one of their necks as he rushed towards them and drove his blade into the chest of another while cupping his hand over the man's mouth. T3 skidded to a halt shortly beside him and discharged an electrical current from a stunner into the remaining two who were rendered unconscious.

    Breep, boop vree!

    "Next door on this side of the hall. Three life signs inside. Go." He called out to the others as he grabbed his weapons and moved to follow. Tycho stepped out into the hallway and suddenly lost his balance, slumping against the wall and grasping his head.

    "...so much pain...they're torturing Hart...we have to hurry. I don't know how much longer...he can withstand this." The Jedi took a moment as the shared pain wracked even his strong mind. There was a tremble to his voice, a sign of just how dire things were with their friend. As emotionally open as Tycho was, even he was not so quick to let it show, a sign of just how much danger their friend was in.
     
  9. Frannykins87

    Frannykins87 Member

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    Alisha was unusually quiet while Kyllan lead the team. She always had been quiet in moving , but right now it was almost as if she wasn't there. Not just her nimble steps, but herself as well. She felt a strong pang of heartbreak when Kat spoke with such hatred. The poor girl had been through so much shit because of that...monster.. Alisha stayed quiet, but if any of the others could have seen her look, they wouldn't have recognized her. It was far from the look she started out with.

    As Kyllan and T3 lead them through narrow corridor, Alisha worried for Hart. She knew he hated darkeness. That fat slug also probably knew that..She shivered slightly, mentally telling her friend to hold on just a little longer, then suddenly Kyllan bumped into a Gamorrean. What transpired in the next few minutes managed to put a rather proud smirk on her face. It wasn't just pride of course...Alisha always found that very Mandalorian style of combat...rather attractive. He was quick, efficient and very very deadly. She could not help but still being at awe. Ty's show (that's how she calls him) was no less impressive, but of course Alisha would always be biased towards Kyllan.

    But she shook it off quickly, and after the pigs were dealt with, Kyllan called out.

    "Next door on this side of the hall. Three life signs inside. Go."

    Alisha nodded. Then gritted her teeth

    "He will not get away with this." Her tone was so calm, that it was almost chilling. Five years were not enough to shake the anger she feels towards slavers. In fact, a lifetime wouldn't be enough. Although normally she is not one to take the lead, her shooting has improved to the point that she is confident she could handle this situation, especially with her friends by her side. But Tycho's words and reaction gave her pause. She looks to him and goes over, lowering her weapon.

    "Just hang in there, both of you...we're almost there..." She gave the jedi a friendly pat on the shoulder, and a sympathetic look, and would not move until he moved again. She also wasn't sure that Tycho could transmit her words to Hart, but she would still try.

    "Let's go. " She nods to Kyllan and looks over to the others. She still wouldn't take the lead, but was ready for anything.
     
  10. Pippa

    Pippa The Inconsistent

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    Pippa padded forth in the bulky walker. Newly installed rubber tipped foot stamps quietened each step. Well oiled joints lessened the clank and the grind. The thing was about as quiet as it could be. Pippa observed the quick and quite dispatch of the guards through the mess hall. She had a moment where her thoughts flared with concern. She pondered about the need to kill these people, were they not just working for a paycheck, was that so different from how her and her closest friends lived day to day? But it was different. Sure the crew had started this journey with a job from Zosma, but that had finished the moment it's nature became clear. These people worked for a monster, willingly and consistently. They had lost the benefit of the doubt. Pippa stood back for a run up at the door across the hall and gestured for someone to press the button so thatthe door would open at the same time as she got there. Timing the run up she pounded the massive frame forward to barrel through the door just as it's mechanisms shifted it safely out of the way.

    The first guard had been almost immediately behind the door. The force of the fully-in-motion suit carried him along the charge like so much flotsam caught in a riptide. As the suit pounded through the room Pippa engaged the the fine motor controls to swing the oversized vibroblade around in a thrumming arc. The two other guards barely able to react as the huge metallic form swept the blade through each of them like butter. Neither their padded flak vests, muscle or bone gave any real resistance to the swing and the two of them fell bloodily into crumpled heaps. As Pippa hauled the walker to a stop the first guard fell victim to inertia, gliding through the air and crunching flimsily against the hardened bunker walls. As the three guards fell still in their respective piles Pippa declared the room clear and waved the others in.

    "From the looks of the state of this control room we are still undetected. We should split into the groups as suggested before by Kyllan. With that I will start to see if I can rig one of the desks to run off of a secondary power source, Alisha, TeeThree, could you please start trying to disable the alarm protocols and see if you can download a decent plan of the base. The moment we have the plan the other team can secure a route to Hart and we can back them up through the security systems here as best we can. Kyllan, Neroka, I will leave my walker's comms on open receive set to our normal frequency should you need to contact us. Hopefully there are not separate jamming beacons in the facility that would block our communications."

    As she talked she opened up the cock pit of her walker and disengaged several hatches from the side. She strode around nimbly on the legs she'd rebuilt a few years back and her ground speed was now much more comparable to the rest of the crew, at least at a jog. Popping open a compact tool box that seemed to have more sections inside than seemed possible she pulled out a socket-jack and threw it to Alisha in case she and T3 needed it to help bypass the computer's security codes. She then pulled some cables out of the walker, spooled them beside a panel on one of the consoles and set about rooting it to the power of the walker in case they decided to shut down the building power.
     
  11. Killa Ree

    Killa Ree She's a Killa Queen

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    The swift dispatch of the mercenaries in the first opened room left little remorse. She could hardly help it; they simply chose the wrong side this time. Her lips upturned in a grim resemblance of a smile at Neroka's words, her eyes hard and her features grave as she whispered a reply. "Oh, I'll have my chance soon enough." Her hands flexed on two of the blades' hilts as if she could feel the hiss of it sliding through corpulent flesh. She still shook, though not from any sort of cold. It was rage, pure and waiting to be unleashed on any unwary soul that would dare try to lay a hand or bar their path. For an instant, she felt that morbid satisfaction that she could get her pound of flesh. But one glance at Alisha's brief stare and Tycho's obvious pain lessened her anger. However, her stance did not relax.

    "I'll follow you, Pip, if you'd need it." The whip at her side was detached and coiled tightly in her hand; she had recently shortened it for closer quarters, and trusted this thin band of vibro-charge with her life. This was her insurance and a final parting gift; it'd be a shame not to use it now. One of the blades hummed to life in her other hand, her gaze flickering to Tycho. "Is it him, in there," she gestured to the room just indicated with three beings. "Or not? If not, I can give them a peaceful dispatch." She couldn't help the words; this anger that threaded through her just wouldn't fade; it was anger that one of her new family was taken by one who would have sold her for a pile of grubby credits. Of all the creatures that fouled the trades of the galaxies, oh how she would love if it was the very one that would mean one less of them.

    Her hands tightened on her weapons, jaw clenched. No more talk. It's time.
     
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  12. Kaylon Neroka

    Kaylon Neroka The Storyteller

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    It was a fatal mistake that the Gamorrean couldn't avoid, as it fell under Kyllan's blade. The brutal efficiency of the Mandalorian's combat training made its death swift and silent, as undetectable as any of them could have hoped for.
    Moving in, each of them spread out and let the Mandalorian take point, going about clearing the room with a methodical chain of kills.
    To their credit, the few that were readily armed in the mess hall tried to bring their weapons to bear, but were thwarted when Tycho tore the weapons from their hands by the mysterious power he wielded. It wouldn't take long for Kyllan to see to silencing them, so Neroka wasted no time in moving to the next door.

    "Next door on this side of the hall. Three life signs inside. Go"

    He was beaten to it by Tycho after his work was done but in seeing the Jedi slump against the wall, he paused. Clearly, it seemed power came at a cost, as he witnessed the Jedi's empathic senses feel the pain of the main they were searching for. By the look on his face, they'd better hurry.

    "Just hang in there, both of you... we're almost there..." Alisha was at his side, patting his shoulder comfortingly. Neroka nodded to them both in silent agreement to her words before moving on.
    Kat and Pippa were following up behind and the bulk of Pippa's suit would mean she needed clearance to get through, yet as she picked up momentum in her stride, it was becoming increasingly clear she had no intention of stopping. Jumping for the door, Neroka opened it as fast as he could ready for her path.

    The door barely cleared her bulk as she charged into the room. With the sickening sound, Neroka knew that someone was already pulverised by Pippa's momentum. The whir of her mechanisms brought with it substantially less sound as its fine motor joints set about working. Its actuators positioning fingers around the blade she'd had mounted. Already she was readying to take on the other two that had been taken by surprise.

    Neroka blinked and the bodies dropped, alien blood spilling from a perfect line that was marked across their torsos, bisecting them in two. They didn't even have time to scream, barely containing their insides and unable to process that their lifeblood was running out of them. They had seconds to live at best. Still, it would be a waste to leave their still-usable gear and as the others started to follow up into the room, Neroka holstered his blade and took up a carbine with a few power packs just in case. It seemed his knife would be spared for now, but at least the weapons intended to defend this facility would see some use, even if it was to aid storming it.

    Pippa was already on point, detailing a plan as her analytical mind worked the numbers and evaluated the most statistically likely probabilities. Alarms, who would work best where, and finding ways to map out the layout of their environment. She got out and was already sorting her gear to go ahead with her plans.
    No doubt, if they'd stormed without stealth they would have found the place on lock-down and their chances of survival rapidly decreasing with every second; yet with the mess hall cleared and what Neroka now realised was some technical room with computers, their odds of survival so far were still panning out alright.
    As Hart would say "Lady luck's got her eye to us". He couldn't recall if he'd actually said it, mind you, but it seemed the sort of thing he'd say.

    "I'll follow you, Pip, if you'd need it" Kat spoke, she still seemed ready to move on and confront Zosma "Or not? If not, I can give them a peaceful dispatch" Neroka was never good at reading between the lines, but even he could tell which she'd probably prefer.

    "You're welcome to join us" Neroka put forward, looking to Kyllan in case the madalorian's tactical expertise suggested otherwise. He quickly followed up, putting out a few hand signals to Kyllan and hoping the mandalorian's teachings wouldn't be mutilated in another poor imitation of the battle sign. 'At your signal' and 'Take point'.
     
    Last edited: Jun 19, 2017
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  13. Sangga

    Sangga Well, there's two schools of thought on that.

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    Metal tunnels, different planet, same hunt. They walked further into the base, they all did. None wanted to embrace the Death he'd give them. The old Wookie moved, his bare pads softly spreading on the cold metal floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins, they were getting closer to the Master. The fools in the Mess Hall were being carved, and charged. The Wookie moved into an alcove where it watched the doorway, if they doubled back, he would end them.

    The rotund, stumpy one had left screeching, someone had whispered in his ear. Squawking orders for men. "Kill them, kill them now! This is what I pay you for!" Once the ten guards leave, Zosma does not return to Hart, but begins to delve deeper into the base. "Must leave..." Hart rolled his head back onto the operating table, his eyes rolling up to stare at the red light.

    "Just me and you, blinky... Mother had droid like you... 'cept the light winked when it talked.... YYYAAAARRRRRGGGGH!" Music to Zosma's ears as he began to seal the door to his escape route, to then get into a shuttle and fly away. Hart's screams heralded the team of enforcers as the doors open into the 'command room'. Such pain and anguish grapples over the shouts and cocking of blasters. The cacophony of nose is then added to by a roar, an outraged cry of a Wookie about to lose his prey. The Warcaster barks several shots as the tall, hairy beast charges.
     
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  14. StarWriter

    StarWriter Member

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    Cleaning the gore from his blade on the garb of the hog faced Gamorrean, Kyllan slipped back out into the corridor as, with no small measure of pride he watched his compatriots silently or near about, dispatch another room full of lackadaisical personnel. While not a proper Mandolorian strike team, this lot were family and in his mind far more dangerous than any of his kin. A concerned cant of his armored head is given towards their resident Jedi as Alisha consoles him, in his shared agony. The warrior could not for the life of him grasp what it was that allowed his friend to wield those marvels of technology, nor do the incredible things he's witnessed first hand. What he did know was the character and measure of the man slumped against the metal wall. And how much he was shielding the others from seeing. Teeth grating together inaudible through the helmet, he quickly moved towards the command room that Pippa and the others entered. Seeing the devastation she had wrought upon the denizens brought a slight curl to his lip.

    He was silent for the moment even as Tycho pushed off of the wall and moved up behind him a bit. Ever observant of those around him the brief snips of conversation was noted. He shared Kat's anger, while hers perhaps was more deserving his was nonetheless bountiful towards the slug that had not only tricked them, but captured his friend, comrade, brother.

    He saw the unpracticed signals from Kaylon, only being butchered slightly in their execution and stepped into the room and beside Pippa, Tycho close on his heels with a hand to his head. The eyes of his robed friend suddenly shot open and his jaw dropped in a silent scream that seemed to come from somewhere else.

    The funny thing about conflict, battle, war. Things invariably would always fall apart sooner or later. No more potent a point was driven home when those doors swooshed open and he watched as nearly a dozen armed men and a rather large Wookie burst forth from the next chamber. And then everything happened. The adrenaline began to flood through his veins, even as they shots fired from the Warcaster blasted around them, they were muddled as if his head was beneath water.

    YYYAAAARRRRRGGGGH!

    That drowned out everything else as Kyllan stared at the roaring behemoth, he knew his friend was close by. All pretense. All chances for surprise were gone. They had been made. Somehow and Hart was suffering for it, or in spite of it. Every muscle in his body tensed and moved with ingrained reflex as the enforcers readied their weapon they were suddenly taken aback as an enraged Mandolorian suddenly rocketed through them with his jetpack on full burn. The heat of which would wash back towards Pippa enough to hopefully get her to retreat to the safety of her walker. Kyllan flew like a missile right at the towering carpet charging at them, vibrosword clutched in both hands like the tip of a spear he hit the Wookie hard. Blade sinking to the hilt inside the thick hide of the snarling creature, becoming a fixture in its shoulder. The Wookie had enough sense to sidestep and rather than being dealt a killing blow it was knocked back a dozen feet with the momentum as Mandolorian and him went skidding across the floor of the next hallway, separating Kyllan from the others. In the briefest of moments as he passed it, he glimpsed Hart lying on a table and a droid hovering above him. That scream just wouldn't stop ringing his ears.

    Tycho was momentarily stunned as the pain overwhelmed him until he abruptly severed his mental link with Hart, unable to say or do anything to keep their brash captain from rushing at the Wookie. The Jedi's mind was capable enough to focus enough to call forth his lightsabers, one each to his ready palms where they ignited in unison to the pair floating through the air as he launched himself in front of Pippa, placing himself between the enforcers who had now opened fire on them all, and his friends. Those bright teal blades flashed in a brilliant whirling dervish of streaks as he became the bulwark between them and the others. Blaster fire was sent every which way as he became their primary focus once his nature was revealed. "Kyllan! Karabast! It's all I can do to deflect these....Hgnh." The strain of being linked with Hart during his torture had weakened the Jedi significantly and though he was doing well, occasionally a puff of smoke rose from his attire from near hits.

    BREEEEEEE!!!!! The astromech's warcry sounded as he zoomed laterally in the room and began firing the hidden blasters Kyllan had installed in his chassis. It was all or nothing now as the droid chirped anxiously towards Pippa signalling the detection of a shuttle readying to launch.

    "I've got the furball, get Hart!" Kyllan's panted words called out over their comm frequency.
     
  15. Frannykins87

    Frannykins87 Member

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    Alisha nodded at Pippa's plan and immediately started acting on it. The control room had several monitors. Alisha instinctively rushed to the one she immagined would be responsible for the alarm protocols. She just had enough time to disable alarms at the furthest reaches of the facility, that would at least prevent further reinforcements to barge in suddenly, when that piercing scream filled the air, shocking her into place momentarily.

    That scream...that scream made Alisha tremble from head to toe. Not just for the fear or what could be happening to Hart, who was like a brother to her at this point, but also anger. That fat slug will wish he was never born once they were through. Gulping down hard, she desperately tries to push away those thoughts. Try to remain calm and focused, Kyllan would often tell her. She always wondered how often he did that himself. Right now, she saw him fly off to the next room and chaos ensued. Instinctively, she followed him, her weapon raised. Her heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through her. She's been in this situation, or similar, enough times now that she got used to it, but when your friend was in danger, it was something else.

    Breathing in, she charged after Kyllan. Kyllan's charge was devastating, but the wookie managed to avoid him. Alisha then spotted Hart. She went pale, She rushed towards the table, but only covered half the distance before shots were flying everywhere. As agile as Alisha was, she manages to dodge the most dangerous ones, but glancing back at Kyllan quickly to make sure he was ok distracted her enough that one shot managed to hit square in the right shoulder. She grimaced and moaned in pain and stumbled backwards, falling to one knee. Fortunately, Kyllan's training was useful for something else other than shooting. Trying to ignore her pain, she rose to her feet quickly and dodged some more, approaching the table and using it as partial cover. After taking in a few breaths, and waiting for a gap, she stood up and fired quickly through gritted teeth, taking down the closest guard. She knew she'd get a lecture from Kyllan later...

    She almost smirked, despite everything, when she heard the droid charge in. "Like owner, like droid.." She thought.

    After ducking to avoid yet more shots, one of which came quite a lot closer to her head that she'd be comfortable with, she stood up briefly again and shot with enough accuracy to kill another enforcer and injure another enforcer, who stumbled briefly. She ducked again, her shoulder quite sore now. As she waited for her next opportunity, she glanced briefly back at Kyllan again to check on him, and then very quickly around the room. She was sure glad she had such an amazing team.
     
  16. Pippa

    Pippa The Inconsistent

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    As plasma bolts filled the air Pippa sprang into action. Using the cover Tycho was providing with his lightsaber technique she did what she could to stop the shuttle from taking off. She wrenched a control spike from her kit and programmed it as fast as her furious little digits would allow. The second it was ready she thrust it into the nearest open data port on a console and left it to start hacking its way into the system to shut down the base's power, hopefully sealing the hangar doors shut where ever the shuttle was planning to take off. Squeaking profusely at every spark and zap elicited by the humming blades and scattering blaster fire she scrambled up into her walker, abandoning the cable link to the console and re-initiating it's functions.

    "Get ready everyone" she warned over the walker's comms "Going dark in twenty, see if you can back up Alisha with Hart before that, I will help Ren with cover".

    As the control spike ratcheted through its sequence, each new click and clack cracking deeper into the bases defences, Pippa tore a dura-steel sheet from the wall to use as mobile protection so that the team could move without hindrance. Wading forward the sheet held out front like a shield she began to draw the fire of the guards. Bolt after bolt crashed into the heavy sheet of blaster-resistant metal, showering sparks into the hall and leaving scorching hot marks where they stuck. While she pressed forward the guards began filling out into the hallway proper taking up positions behind struts and pillars to spread out the fire and to stop them from being completely bottle-necked at the doorway. Pippa tried to angle the cover so that they could push forward and get Kyllan some help, while he had proven his mettle and grit in battle after battle she never liked it when he went off by himself, he had a tendency to come through solo jaunts by the skin of hit teeth and with serious blood loss. She was so immediately focused on getting the cover forward that she couldn't see the guards using the doorway as cover. Nor could she see them shift to the side to allow another guard space to limber up a personnel mounted Light Blaster cannon. She did see the blast light up the corridor, it was the last thing she saw before losing consciousness.

    The shot blew a hole clear through the dura-steel plate and tore open the walker's cockpit. The walker rocked back and then forward. The sheet hit the floor edge first and trapped under the leaning weight of the mech it held as an impromptu barricade. A second explosion rocked the walker as normal blaster fire began to bite into the now still parts of the diving unit, one bolt burning through the non-resistant hull plating and detonating an internal air supply. Shrapnel scattered indiscriminately outwards, showering both friend and foe with deadly metal shards. Several of the guards by the door were cut to ribbons by the raking projectiles. Pippa, still strapped to the harness, along with a chunk of the internal systems were thrown down the corridor back towards the control room. Neither looked in a good way. The carcass of the once proud walker buckled into a hep against the propped sheet providing the team with some decent cover between them and the room heart was in. Ten seconds remained until the base's power would go out.
     
  17. Killa Ree

    Killa Ree She's a Killa Queen

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    The scream that ripped through the air was the final straw. Her own answering bellow was one of pain and anger; she could feel her voice raw from that singular shout.

    "HART!"

    Kyllan seemed to be holding his own against the Wookie; the power of the blast to Pippa's walker threw her back another ten feet, skidding on the pools of blood and viscera that littered the ground. She felt no pain; all sounds drowned out from her, her ragged breathing the only thing that kept her from immediately sprinting back. She didn't feel the coldness of the shrapnel embedded in her left shoulder, only the hot throbbing, and the bitter anger that burned like gall in the back of her throat. Hold onto that anger. Hold onto it, it was her survival mechanism, her only feeling. Hart was a mere wall away, they had to make it.

    With a roar, she felt herself slip and charge forward. Twin vibroblades hummed to life as she charged, ducked. Hissed as a blaster's heat bit into her cheek, her side, and pain would bloom and be forgotten. And Neroka, Ali, Tycho... Luck had nothing to do with it now. One blade flew from her fingers, sinking into an enforcer's chest, as she grabbed the third blade, retreating behind the dura-sheet shield. The rage cleared from her head, long enough for her to realize the lack of Pippa's walker... or what remained of its' hull. She took one deep breath. Then another. Closed her eyes, and sank down low.

    Focus... she could feel it humming in her bones, and then she knew. Five seconds to power out, no time to waste. She sprinted forward again, sliding down low, one blade re sheathed when she grabbed her whip.

    Four.. she uncoiled its' length, it hummed to life. She felt her fury subside, replaced with calm.

    Three...

    Two..

    One...

    Darkness. And then three voices gave out terrified bellows of pain, and the fire resumed.
     
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  18. Kaylon Neroka

    Kaylon Neroka The Storyteller

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    Everything happened so fast when the scream came. The bone-chilling outcry itself reminded Kalyon of the one time he'd ever heard anything so raw, and unrestrained. Steadying himself as he felt a weakening in his legs. Images of his family, and suddenly hart dead or dying alongside them played across his imagination and he felt his choler rising. Was it fear of loss that was driving them all now? The expressions on their faces each showed their own fears, their hunger for revenge against the worm that saw to take the Yoania's captain from her.

    He gripped the weapon in his hands tightly, perhaps tighter than necessary. He'd hoped to follow Kyllan out, but the cold familiarity of that scream Hart was uttering had caught him off guard. Instead, he followed Tycho out into the hall as the rocket of Kyllan's propulsion fought to drown out Hart's screams. He took a knee as the glowing blades of the jedi's lightsabers came to life in his hands, casting aside any bolt that came in their direction with their continual spinning or twirling.
    Bringing the iron sights of the carbine up to his eye, he took aim and timed for the passing of Tycho's lightsaber before squeezing a shot, and another, down the corridor and impacting with sizzling scorch marks on the robot's robotic body. It bobbed and rocked as it was hit, keeping itself balanced as it steadied itself and returned its focus to Hart, the victim of its 'ministrations'. It took three repeated shots before sparking and veering uncoordinatedly and a fourth shot to make it drop like a stone to the floor, crashing with its little red light finally giving out.
    "Kyllan! Karabast! It's all I can do to deflect these....Hgnh."
    The sound of sizzling much closer to him distracted Kaylon as he was ten shots down the clip, sparing a glance up at the jedi as he took the focus of the enemy's fire with his own defensive sword-work.
    "Move up, no use us being an easy target. I'll support you"


    "Get ready everyone" Pippa's voice came up through the comms "Going dark in twenty"
    Alisha was already past them, moving with a reckless abandon that caused Kaylon to look on in surprise. He hadn't expected that of Alisha. Readying her gun and snapping a shot off into the Wookie's shoulder as Kyllan wrestled with the furball, it smouldered as the round burnt at its fur and struck at the flesh beneath it all, but it would take more than a round to put a wookie down.
    With heavy footfalls, Pippa's own walker soon joined him at the shoulder of Tycho, hoisting a large armour plate she must have pulled from somewhere, pushing past the jedi on towards the hostiles firing down the corridor towards them.
    "Come on, let's go!" Pulling up from his kneeling position, Neroka was behind Pippa in seconds, taking a few shots here and there at the edge of the armoured plate, a few steps behind.
    Killa raced past him, through the space he'd cleared near Tycho, and with her two vibroblades out, she charged into the fray. Everyone was advancing in their own way, and there was a brief second Neroka felt an awe at their combined fury, tempered with the scream and sight of Hart at the robot's mercy.
    The heavy boom of plasma punching through the armour plate was an altogether unnatural sound of perforated metal that snapped Neroka out of his split-second reverie at the broader picture. His eyes turning back to the walker as Killa, Alishia and Kyllan dealt with the enforcers and wrestled with the hairy monstrosity of the enraged wookie, the armoured plate was blown outwards, towards the walker in small places. As was the potency of such round's velocities at such close ranges, and the nature of plasma, the rounds which followed peppered the walker with what Neroka saw to be a horrifying relentlessness.
    "Pippa!" The little Chadra Fan didn't even make a noise as it happened, and as its arms seemed to sag, it's cockpit exploded, throwing her clear, strapped into a chair harness back towards him.

    CRUNCH

    Those were his ribs. The velocity of an unconscious tiny Chadra Fan hitting him in the chest, seat-first, threw him onto his back and skidding across the floor after a brief moment his feet had left the floor. The smack to his head as he hit the floor was immediately dizzying and contested the pain in his chest, but proved no competition for at least two broken ribs. She was still on his chest, in her chair unconscious, his gun jammed painfully in his abdomen, luckily flat against the back of the chair else the damage might have been a lot worse.
    He focused on his injuries, using them to ground himself past the waves of concussive delirium that briefly washed over him.
    It was an agonizing effort to pull an arm up, round and over the Chadra Fan, and press a digit to her neck.
    She was alive at least, that meagre little pulse rate the difference between a life and death crisis.
    His chest hurt, he was having trouble breathing. His throat was choking, he wasn't sure if he wanted to give his own outcry of pain, or just gasp desperately for air.

    Just focus on the positives, she'd live. He'd live. Hart'd live...

    They weren't going to make it... They were all hurt...

    The lights died simultaneously, and screams were let out.

    No, the positives. Focus on the positives. They were giving it their all. They'd come out of it, one way or another. With Hart.

    Breathe, that was the key, just try and breathe...
     
  19. Sangga

    Sangga Well, there's two schools of thought on that.

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    The pain, the ever-loving, gakking pain that streaked through his face, and into his skull. Then all was so bright, then dark, and bright again. For a third time the darkness gave way to an intense brightness. The pain had not stopped, his eyes were adjusting to the light but there was a crash of metal. The pain still burned, yet it was dispersing into an ache. He'd held himself to gether and something was going his way. The restraints on the other hand meant that there was no aiding his allies. Then again he heard a name "Pippa!" with that he almost pitied Zosma, the gang were here. The toad was royally ******.

    "Bwak! Grrrrrraaaaah!" With the ower gone, the airlock could not be opened. The highspeed escape shuttle was only half a metre away. As the lights went dark, so did the air-cycling of this sealed corridor. The red stump of an alien ran back to the door they had already moved through. By the time he got there, his thin legs were already about to buckle. He raised a fist, it could barely tap on the door.

    The wookie, shot and impaled by a flying, armoured warrior. The warcaster was dropped, and with the pain rising, the wookie breathed in deeply and let out a roar. The nails on it's hands extened and drove under and toward the armpits of the warrior. The rage caused spittle to rise as foam in the corner of the mouth. It would keep fighting until it was brought down. Such raw anger fuelled the beast, for that is what the Wookie was now, alll sense of sentience had disappeared.

    Hart struggled against the braces, was Zosma as cheap as Hart had always thought, or had he laid out for. With a roar, that was nought compared tot he Wookie, Hart strained against the braces. Tink-tink and the already warn down bolts, that had been holding him in place throughout the torture, snapped after too much strain. "Never skimp on the restraints." Hart undid the bolts on the legs and slumped off the table to his feet. Blood dripping from his left arm, his abdomen ached, and it felt like his face was sweating blood.

    He saw the tustle at the door. Kyllan and the Wookie. Something snapped inside the Hapan, revenge, fear, concern for the other Captain's wellbeing. He took a few steps forward, raised his arm and his fist swung into the Wookie's temple. Off kilter, the wookie began to tilt. Another heavy fist hit the Wookie's head again, it went down, the meat of Hart's form propelling the fiist and Wookie to the floor, Hart had to shove into Kyllan as they went down. Again, and again. Hart slammed his fist into the Wookie's head. His left arm was limp and each withdrawal was weaker. Somehow the punches still fell heavy. The well-built Hapan was known for his hardiness, but this was ridiculous. He was being propeeled by something other than his own constitution.

    The oddest thing was his face, small streams of blood in his cheeks, brow, and other areas of his face streamed vital fluid. His face was a dull, neutral mask. His fist pounding the severely crunched cranium of the Wookie, long silent; only twitching as Hart's hand slammed down, visibly weaker and busted. He swayed at the apex of the ascent of the last few punches and as his hand rose he heard something. It caused him to turn and se some of his crewmates. The gore still pulsed out of the small holes and his eyes closed. He took his tired right arm and tried to wipe his blood from his eyes, only smearing the Wookie's in with his own. No broad smile, no witty remark. Hart slumped, straddling the dead Wookie.
     
  20. StarWriter

    StarWriter Member

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    Fervent panic. The kind that could only be instilled when someone you cared about was threatened or being harmed. That pure, intense rage that came from wanting to protect them, to hurt the ones hurting them. Emotion. Despite all of his training, even Tycho was not completely devoid of it. And Jedi were known above all else for their restraint. Though he had not an iota of the sensitivity to touch the Force, Kyllan was possessed of a lifetime of Mandolorian training and the calm composure under fire that it brought. And yet, there was little but raw emotion and adrenaline pumping through his veins as he did something no sane person would dare do. Go head to head in close combat with a Wookie. Yet his sanity was not in question. Kyllan was protecting his family, with meant he would throw himself to the hazard without hesitation no matter the danger to himself.

    Battle waged behind him he could detect the distinct sounds of various blasters being fired. The mercs trying to do the job they'd been paid to do. Blasters, the kind he'd given Alisha, he knew she was alright as long as he heard them go off.

    The rapid drone of those remarkably elegant blades twirling through the air and the hiss and pop as it caught and redirected the deadly energy away from his friends. The powerful singular blast of a rifle, he knew would be aimed with precision from the steady hands of Neroka. The frantic chirping accompanied by motorized motion as even T3 rallied to the defense of Hart. Somewhere in there he knew that someone felt the cold penetration of one or more of Killa's deadly blades sheathed in their flesh.

    A heavy round went off, something none of them had, a light blaster cannon by the harsh shriek and then he heard it hit something. "Pippa!" The urgency in that cry told him all he needed to know as he struggled to keep the ferocious hairy behemoth from yanking his arms from their sockets. Unable to remove the blade from the Wookie's body he violently kicked and punched wherever he could. Yet the walking carpet grabbed his arms restricting his ability to land blows and even when he ignited his jetpack the immensely strong creature was able to hold him in place.

    "Kyllan! Karabast! It's all I can do to deflect these....Hgnh." Even their mystical friend wasn't impervious to harm and as the seconds ticked by he focused on keeping himself alive, he couldn't fall, he was their protector.

    "Ahhhhh!" Kyllan's bestial scream came as everything went dark. The only illumination came from the vibrant glow of numerous lightsabers streaking in a dervish through the air. Casting the few shots that still fired in their direction aside.


    The death knells of the droid he'd seen beside Hart as he flew by echoed in the hall as it was brought down and he glanced into the room. "Get up...you old bastard.." The Mandolorian slammed both boots into the Wookie's chest for leverage to keep the beast on him while he struggled to activate the flamethrower on his right wrist. He never had a chance to use it as Hart suddenly rushed out like a madman and began pummeling the Wookie with his fists. He felt the grip on his arms go lax and quickly backed away. Watching for a moment in the illumination of his helmet's night vision as his friend and fellow captain unleashed more rage than he'd ever seen from the man before.

    T3 came rolling up to him chirping madly. Breeet deep boop bip!

    "Zosma.." Kyllan muttered as he heard his droid tell him of the slug's whereabouts in the shuttle hangar at the end of the corridor. "Ren!! Hart needs you. Killa, I'm going after the slug!" He called out with a brief look at his tortured friend, until they had that slug in their grasp and safely back aboard the Entendre he wasn't going to waste any time. They were done chasing that fat disgusting blob. With a furious warcry he ran down the next corridor a few meters then ignited his jetpack, his vibrosword still protruding from the shoulder of the dead Wookie.

    T3 sped off after his owner and friend, quickly jacking in to the data port on the panel beside the door. Kyllan barely made out the soft tapping of something against the opposite side of the door.

    Tycho's blades continued to form a defensive barrier for several moments after the lights went out until he could no longer sense any hostility being directed at those closest to him. The blades all cut off at once save for one that hovered in the air above him as he rushed back to where he'd heard Neroka and Pippa land. Concern worn across his face he quickly fell to his knees beside them and gingerly used the Force to raise the chadra fan and the chair she was secured to off the marksman. He gently set her down on the floor plating and with a flick of his hand the restraints all popped open, freeing her so the Jedi could administer a bit of healing Force. Though already taxed mentally from both sharing Hart's pain and the battle, he had enough left in him to stabilize the small mechanic.

    "Ren!! Hart needs you. Killa, I'm going after the slug!" Tycho's head whipped in that direction only to snap back to examine Neroka, once he was sure of his well being the robed monk broke into a inhumanly fast sprint that had him at Hart's side in moments. "Quint..don't move." The Jedi's soft words came as he held out his hands, one placed on Hart's forehead, the other on his shoulder. Tycho poured nearly every ounce of strength he had left into mending his friend's grievous wounds. By the time he slumped to the floor, labored in his breathing, sabers clattering to the floor as he no longer had the energy to keep them aloft, T3 unsealed the door.

    It slide open with a hiss and the sudden loud rush of air filling a void. Kyllan watched as the source of so much of their misery flopped to the floor in front of him. "You..." His fists clenched and he couldn't stop himself from slamming a boot hard into the worm's back. How he wanted to blast this bastard apart, but this was not his kill. With every ounce of restraint he had, the Mandolorian grabbed the barely breathing body by the throat and dragged him back down the corridor until he could toss the mostly limp slug at Hart's feet. "No more running you piece of gak." He easily slipped his heavy blasters from their magnetic plates on his thighs and held both pointed down at Zosma. Kyllan would not let him escape again.
     
    Kaylon Neroka, Pippa, Sangga and 2 others like this.