A slow light began to fade into vision, though everything seemed to be rapidly spinning. The stench in the room was horrid and his smuggler's disguise was completely drenched in sweat. Oren would find himself laying in the middle of a holding cell, which he presumed to be within one of the temples. The lights were dim and it seemed relatively empty within the halls of what he presumed to be the jail.
His brown eyes would shift back towards the bunk, finding Mila sprawled against the bed. "Kriffing hell," he'd grumble as he brought his hands to his temple, "I thought we said we weren't going to get locked up this time." A weak smile would form on the near human's face as he pulled himself up. He would make his way towards the cell, pocking his hands out of the little slits in the door.
"Hello.." His voice would crack as he pressed his face against the door, "What's going on here?"
Bzzt..Oren felt a zap against his hand, "Get the kriff back, you slimy Wizard." A rodian would chirp as he passed by the cell.
Well, that isn't going to work... He would fall down onto his butt as he contemplated a strategy on escaping their current predicament. "You don't think they'll let us fight in an arena this time..will you?" He'd peer back with a smile.
Captured. Again. Yep, that's exactly what happened. Mila was laid out on the bunk, still sore from where she had been shot earlier, with a small bit of rining in her left ear cone. She had been conscious for only a few moments when she heard Oren begin to talk; or maybe she was just finally getting around to hearing things. Her damaged jedi attire had sadly been removed, and what was left was, well probably more akin to something Master Securla would wear. She felt a tad embarrassed having her robes striped from her and being reduced to wearing less formal attire, but there was nothing she could do about it. Hopefully she could get ahold of those robes; those were hand sewed by her mother after all.
She sat up, smiling at him in disbelief. "I think what I actually said, was they couldn't make us fight a rancor in an arena." Mila corrected, as she tried to turn and stand, feeling a stinging sensation pulsate around her right thigh muscle. Least they both seemed to be taking this with a healthy dose of humor. Seeing her companion be shocked by someone outside the cell, Mila limped her way towards him awkwardly; her entire right leg felt like it was on fire now, that was going to be annoying. She attempted to help her friend up, shaking her head at his silly question. He always seemed to be unphased by things occuring to him, a rather remarkable trait to be certain; one that Mila hoped to be getting closer to obtaining. "I doubt that, though I dont believe anything they have arranged for us will be pleasant. Frankly I'm irked that someone stole my robes." She paused and looked to the door, a small grin stretched across her face as she commented. "Though, this is an improvement, you aren't starting off with a black eye for starters." They were certainly in a bind. Only question now was how in the force were they getting out of this? @TWD26
In truth, Oren and Mila's captors hadn't had any time to make arrangements for them, because they were too busy trying to figure out what the kark to do with the toad on their doorstep. It all started when the alarm had gone off and the watcher at the front of the Great Temple reported that there was an X-wing incoming—which, understandably, turned some heads. An X-wing hadn't shown up at the Great Temple on Yavin IV in over a century, so one showing up now couldn't be good news.
But then they saw what was inside its cockpit: a diminutive little elf who looked older than some of the trees growing in the forest around them. The little thing—whatever it was—was clearly senile. The Duros who strolled forward to meet it had heard it chuckling to itself as it limped closer to the entrance of the hanger. But he couldn't bring himself to make a comment, considering he was still trying to process how something that small and old and ugly was even able to pilot and X-wing in the first place.
So, he concluded that the old frog hadn't piloted. There had to be another intruder. "Hey, you," the Duros barked when he was in range. "I'm lookin' for the moof-milker that flew that thing and parked it in my lawn. You know where he went?"
The karking frog laughed again and the Duros swore he was going to shove the muzzle of his blaster in its mouth to keep it from doing that again. It was too creepy. "Looking? Found someone, I would say you have, hm?"
Great. It talked weird too.
"Have some friends of mine, you do," the frog-thing went on. "Return them to me you should."
The Duros blinked a couple of times before realizing what he was being asked. This thing was friends with those laser-wielding psychopaths they locked up? Son of a Sith, this whole situation couldn't possibly get more bizarre. "'Fraid not, short stuff. But if you wanna see 'em so badly, why do I put you in the same cell with them? Sounds like you could use the company."
"I doubt you could get me into one of your cages. Too much for you, I am."
"Oh yeah? Wanna bet on that one?" The Duros pulled his blaster free of its holster and pointed it at the green thing.
That was all the permission it seemed to need. It withdrew a tiny cylinder from within its earth-tone robes and ignited a yellow blade. The Duros cursed — another karking wizard?! — and fired three shots; but the frog leapt with unnatural speed...
Joining Yoddle at the temple entrance, Saul had to offer him a small shake of the head as he looked down at the unconscious spice runner on the ground,
“Well I don’t know if you quite had to do that to him” Saul said with a knowing smile at Yoddle as he passed him and entered the Temple. The ceiling shot up above him and the space was far more open then he had expected. Machinery and containers clogged every orifice of the building it seemed though, the runners having settled in nicely into what had once been such an important space for the galaxy,
“Still, best no one knows we’re here. Not yet, anyhow” how exactly they were meant to find their allies was another question entirely. If they were locked up in a cell then they weren’t going to be near the entrance, and instead as far away from escape as could be mustered. And that to Saul suggested down below.
Scanning the room, it was at the bays rear that he managed to spy a staircase leading downwards, surely where they needed to go. Giving a gesture to Yoddle, Saul jumper back into the shadows as a trio of smugglers came to investigate the earlier scream. Though as they drew closer they would hear suddenly the rattling of crates and tools, as if someone was rushing past them in a hurry, knocking them down.
Saul reopened his eyes, dropping his little manipulation of the Force. They’d be off their backs for a little while now, hopefully enough to sneak through and find their allies.
Oren tilted his head slightly as he peered towards Mila's exposed midriff, a chuckle escaping his lips, "I see that stun bolt did a lot to you," he'd tease, "I didn't take you as the self expression type Mila." He would turn away from the Jedi as he heard a bit of commotion coming from outside the halls.
He could hear a bit of chatter and yelling, and a few guards ran past the cells. Oren would press himself up, his eyes shifting to catch any sort of glance that he could. "Seems something is going on," he'd mutter to himself as he began to slowly shake the metal grate--Kriff this sturdy.
His eyes would shift over the door. "Hey..remember that time we held hands through the force?" It was a such an odd expression to say in such a serious tone, "I think if we do that again...but, we pull..we might be able to tear this thing right out of the wall and buy ourselves a poorly planned escape."
He would step back, holding his hand out towards the twi'lek, "Let's see what the force has in store for us, shall we?"
Color flaired over the Twi'leks face as her head tails curled around her neck, her eyes dropped to the floor of the cell at Oren's remark. "I...it's my athletic attire if you must know. I wear it under my robes." She sputtered, as she could feel the attention being put upon her a bit more than she could bare. "It's a cultural thing, I can't explain it." She tried to elaborate, but words were failing her at current; though the shouts from outside the cell snapped her back into reality. Several guards rushed by, and Mila could feel concern washing off of them as they left the two jedi behind. The force was at work, and it seemed it had given them an opportunity to escape. "I think this is a sign that we should take advantage of-" She stopped herself as she saw Oren was already on it, of course he was.
Mila raised an eyebrow as he recounted the incident back in the arena, of combining their powers together. Mila's crossed her arms and pursed her lips at the suggestion, but it was their best bet; if anything his earlier remarks had gotten her flustered, but she was not at all opposed. "I concur." She said not long after he popped the question. "Poorly planned is our style it seems." She added with a smile, as her gaze would fixate back onto him. Taking his hand in her own, the two would focus their power upon the grate. Holding tightly, the force would connect between the two, as they became one, their power now being shared as it latched onto the door and began to warp the metal, as the force went to work.
V-3PO had only ever heard of Yavin IV from organics who insisted it was one of the most important moons in the entire galaxy. Apparently, a little over a hundred years ago, a bunch of fleshy meatbags got together and flew a h harrowing mission to blow up a moon-sized space station in the vicinity of Yavin. Veepee thought the story sounded utterly ridiculous. Organics could barely govern themselves for more than a few decades at a time without devolving into war, slavery, and mass-murder. Building a space-station the size of a moon was a little beyond their capacitors, as far as the protocol droid was concerned.
Fortunately, though, organics weren't entirel useless. Take the spice runners for instance. None of them trusted each other to guard the group's cache of spice. Slip one enough credits and it may be enough to make them slip off with the whole gang's haul. So, they trusted guarding the cache to a droid. In return for watching their hallucinogenic filth, Veepee got to gut whatever meatbags tried to take it from them; which, in all honesty, was a much better payment than credits. After all, what would a droid do with money?
Even more fortuitous, he had just heard that the Duros, whose bulbous head reminded Veepee of a rancor's testicles, had captured two "wizards" with laser swords of the same sort Durr the Hutt was offering bounties for. So, the droid reverted back to the language he was most fluent in: betrayal. He waltzed in to the holding cells, half-expecting to have to melt his way through several Rodian guards to get to his prize, only to be pleasantly surprised when none of them were present. Instead, Veepee walked in on the prisoners in the midsts of an escape attempt.
"How delightful," the droid said with legitimate glee. Glee he expressed by spreading his arms wide and extending everyweapon and tool stored within his chassis."You two must be the 'Jedi' I keep hearing so much about. Oh, just look at me! Where are my manners? My name is V-3PO, human-cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, as well as etiquette, customs, and torture! And I am very much looking forward to torturing the both of you today! There's so much about Jedi that I simply do not know!" He began to pad over towards their cells, wrist-flamethrower raised. "Who would like to volunteer?" @TWD26@Algarus@Nightfall
Sadly for him, there was one Jedi Veepee hadn’t accounted for,
Skkk-bhrk, his rebreather cracked as he called down the cell lined hallway, catching the last moments of the insane droids twisted speech.
“And I can’t wait to get to know you!” He shot throw gritted teeth while extending his right arm. The Force whirled around him and blasted out through his palm, sending a blast of kinetic energy at the droids obsidian coloured frame.
They had no time for such shenanigans that the droid talked of, not when the spice runners could find them at any moment. Though hopefully Yoddle was doing what he could to keep them busy.
The push had hopefully thrown the droid down the hall, giving the erstwhile pair of locked up Jedi time to pry open their cage,
“Come on, can’t laze around all day. I’ll have to catch the story of how this happened another day” he said with a smirk.
The Jedi were getting out of here, even if they still had to deal with that dastardly droid.
Things were going too easy, the spice runners had taken off and the two Jedi were able to knock the hinges off their cell. Now all they had to do was simply slip out, grab their sabers and head on to finish their job. But, it seemed things were only going to get more hectic and crazy. An obsidian protocol droid would shuffle his way towards the pair, his receptors blinking red.
"Heh..a protocol droid." He'd peer towards Mila, "Maybe Nara sent him."
He was completely wrong, things started out cheery and then they turned diabolical quickly. The droid spoke of torture and malice in such a beautiful and soft tone, it almost made him wonder if Nara really did send him. But, as the droid moved closer to the two of them, he knew something had to be done.
Luckily for them Saul had arrived, using the force in an attempt to push the droid flying off. "Thank the force," he would grumble as he wasted no time, his mechanical hand wouldn't let go of Mila as they ran out of their cell; His boots sliding as he came to a halt. At the end of the dingy hall, sat a few chairs and crates. It seemed the Spice dealers were in the process of packaging them up. His left hand would reach out with the force, pulling his own saber into his hand.
"Come on let's get out of here, before that...droid, whatever the tark it is, comes for us!"
As the door flew open, Mila would follow behind her companion, though they hadn't gotten too far before a protocol droid appeared before the pair. "I'm not so sure, this one looks...strange." Mila commented, as not long after she had said those words, the droid revealed it's true nature. "I'd really rather not." She spoke to the droid, as the things this....droid was wanting to do sounded most unpleasant. She looked to Oren as the droid asked for volunteers, but Mila was in no rush to sign up. "Perhaps we can find other ways to entice your knowledge?" Mila suggested, as she took a step back, think to perhaps try and call upon the force to save the pair from an untimely death. Thankfully, someone had arrived to delay that, as Saul knocked the droid aside, clearing the way for the pair. Mila gave a small nod to the fellow knight, after all, if not for their arrival, they never would have had their opening. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Master Devan."
Mila was surprised at how hard Oren pulled at her arm, as he seemed to he making a a-line towards his fellow jedi. Mila could sense her saber in close vicinity as their sabers seemed to be prepped for being sent off world. As Oren freed his saber, Mila did the same, as the blue blade flickered to life in her free hand, though one issue still remained. "Oren, you can let go now. I can take care of myself." Mila stated, as her friend would have his hands full if he attempted to protect her with one hand occupied. This was when the real escape would start.
...and also where it would end. Vee-Threepio lay flat on his back in the holding cells, but he wasn't done. Not yet. Rather, he was perplexed. That filthy organic had simply raised his hand and sent the droid flying! So, that's what the organics called 'the Force.' What a troublesome bit of magic. But not entirely unstoppable. He reached for his comlink and connected to his ship.
"Artoo?" he said.
The little droid answered seconds later.
"Our friends seem to be attempting an escape. Be a dear and swing the ship around, would you? I'll be there in a moment."
R2-J5 did as he was bade. A few moments later, the Voidhound swung around the front of the Great Temple, blocking the most obvious escape route. The modified WTK-85A interstellar transport was certainly no Star Destroyer, but it was better tech than any of the Jedi currently had on hand. As if to prove this point, the blastromech droid piloting it fired a few "warning shots" from its heavy laser cannons, eviscerating the spice-runner's ships sitting outside.
The droid then positioned the ship in the air between the Jedi's escape route and their X-wings. When they came charging out into the hangar, they would be confronted with something far worse than a homicidal protocol droid. And, speaking of those, Veepee recovered rather easily from his fall and was quickly making his way after his targets. One way or another, he was going to get to dissect a Jedi today. Oh, yessir, he was. @Nightfall@TWD26@Algarus
In all the commotion, Yoddle was busy clearing out the hangar of the Great Temple. The spice-runners weren't the best fighters, and coming up against a diminutive Jedi like Yoddle had only confounded them further. One-by-one, he was knocking them out. But then the ship swung around out of nowhere; and, in two massive explosions, the spice-runner ships were blown to smithereens.
To make matters worse, that same ship then planted itself firmly between him and the X-wings they had flown in on.
Yoddle yanked the comlink out of his robe and raised Saul with it. "Hurry, my friend," the ancient Jedi said between pants. "A problem we may have."
Yoddle’s voice sounded a tad worried, and that wasn’t a tone Saul was used to hearing from the ancient Knights mouth. It was usually sarcasm.
But as he and his allies shot out of the tunnel and into the hangar, he suddenly understood why. Flaming wreckage framed the expansive hall, and in between the pillars was a sight he certainly hadn’t expected to see today, a rather violent looking transport ship blocking their way.
Yavin 4 was truly proving to be quite the experience,
Skkk-bhrk, he heaved as his eyes darted about the room before reaching for his commlink,
“More than one actually, we’ve got homicidal droid coming up the rear, so take your pick of problems” he said almost with a sigh, they did not need this,
“If we can keep both distracted, then perhaps we’ve got a chance” He spoke to the group, trying to keep everyone informed. He and Yoddle still had their X-Wings beyond the temple door, though if he could get up high and go over it, he might be able to get into the droids ship too.
But they needed to get its eyes elsewhere first,
“I’m going to see if I can’t get upstairs, I’ve got an idea from there” he gave his fellows a look that said ‘trust me’. He hoped they did, because this situation was getting more dangerous by the second.
With a final look he darted behind cargo and made for the eastern staircase, hopefully the others would keep the ship of his trail.
Oren was not made aware that 3P0 Droids could even have possible homicidal tendencies, was this some sort of malfunction on the droid's part or was he designed to be this way? Regardless, it seemed the obsidian droid was hell bent on succeeding with his mission. Mila protested Oren, who had forgot to release her hand in his frantic run--he would quickly pull it away as he began to stare down the droid as it slowly clambered back to his feet.
To make matters worse, Yoddle's voice had broke through the radio silence, with a cryptic message. "This day seems to be getting better and better," he'd say with a slight grin as he gripped his saber. He was going to suggest that they attempt to slip out the back, when Saul mentioned he had a plan.
Oren did not doubt in the man's abilities and would simply nod, looking towards Mila with a smile, "Go, help him." He would turn back towards the droid, "I'll handle this."
Having been let go by Oren now, Mila could only wonder what that message over the comlink was about. It certainly didn't sound good. To make matters worse, that droid was getting back to his feet and looked ready to continue hostilities; who programed this thing? On second thought, Mila didn't want to know. Looking between Saul and Oren, she wasn't sure who to help.
Oren would probably need her help against the droid, yet Saul was looking to face a freighter all by himself. Neither seemed like good prospects, but Saul certainly needed the help. "If you get yourself captured again, you have no one to blame but yourself." She told him, before looking to the outside, leaving Oren to handle the droid while she dealt with....a ship? Mila's brown furrowed as she was looking at something most unpleasant. Of course Oren left her with the difficult job, but if Saul needed a distraction, she'd give him one. Taking in a deep breath, Mila shut her saber off and called upon the force. She channeled the energies into her legs, as she began to race outside, her speed and reaction time enhanced three fold. Her goal would be to be the nice pretty purple blur, hopefully be enough to distract the pilot of that ship long enough for Saul to do whatever he planned to do.
The Twi'lek dashed forward, making for the X-Wings, as she hoped to keep the ship from getting a solid lock on her. She would split off mid way there, moving instead towards the cover of the trees. Saul had better hurry up though, because Mila knew well enough what she was doing was damn near suicidal. She could feel fatigue start to mount in her muscles, the aching and speed would begin to fade, as it was clear she still wasn't at peak strength. She could only hope her efforts were enough, else the rest of the group was going to be in some rather severe trouble.
Veepee was delighted to see one of the Jedi waiting for him as he shuffled down the corridor. He triggered a button on his right arm, which produced a wrist-flamethrower. The flamethrower spat a jet of hot flames at the Jedi Master. The droid didn't know much about Jedi, but what he'd heard was that they had swords that could deflect blaster fire; but he was willing to bet their swords couldn't deflect flames. Either way, he'd know for sure in a moment and was excitedly awaiting the results of his experiment.
Meanwhile, hovering just outside the hangar, Artoo was doing his best to coral the remaining Jedi to prevent them from escaping. A Twi'lek Jedi darted out of the Great Temple and made for the X-wings. Artoo let her go. Not because he couldn't have shot at her with the heavy cannons, but because the Voidhound had a dorsal-facing dual medium laser turret. The blastromech droid let her sprint towards the X-wings behind the Voidhound, then opened fire on her.
Explosions rocked the courtyard, spraying the parked X-wings with dust and debris. The laser canons would track the Twi'lek's movements, so she would have to be careful where she ran. If she got too close to the ships while they were unshielded, the Voidhound's cannons would easily rip them apart.
At the same time, though Artoo was unable to see what the Jedi were plotting inside, he knew they were plotting something. So he fired two warning shots with the heavy laser cannons straight into the hangar bay. The explosions might just be enough to bring the hangar bay down on top of them, if they hit right. @Nightfall@TWD26@Algarus
Yoddle did the only thing he could when the warning shots flew into the hangar. He lifted tiny hands and summoned the Force, diverting the two blasts around him so that they would not strike and kill either him or Saul. Unfortunately, this still meant that the blasts would detonate within the hangar. As a result, some of the platforms and rigging Saul intended to climb to get the jump on the droid ship collapsed, and the ceiling was almost certainly unstable.
Yoddle, still clutching his comlink, switched frequency to his X-wing. He had his own astromech droid and there was a chance it could do something for them. "Beegee," he said into the device. "Fire up the engines and shield. A diversion, we need!"
Outside, BG-9 powered up Green One and its shields. It would take a few moments before Beegee could join the fray—he needed to let the engines and weapon's systems heat up—but if the Jedi could last until then, he might be able to provide them with a distraction that would allow them to escape. @Nightfall@TWD26@Algarus
Blasts from the Voidhound rocketed through the hangar, and even though Yoddle had managed to send them flying away from any of them they erupted with searing heat and force at the hangars rear where Saul's was yet dashing. Around him bits of rubble and flooring tore away and sailed through the air, another thing to account for as he rushed beneath collapsing rigging around him. He had not expected a rescue mission to become quite so dramatic.
For now though he was sticking to his plan, the construction platforms were not the only way up the temples interior. At the far wall a staircase was cut into the stone, leading up to a second floor balcony that ran across the hangars roof, overlooking the ground. From there he'd be able to climb aboard the transport.
Wheezing up the stairs as he exited onto it, his rebreather was working hard to keep up with him, filtering out the dust particles kicked up with every blast that rattled across the hangar and out at Mila beyond.
Skkk-bhrk, his rebreather whined,
"Only get one shot at this" he muttered to himself as he ran with Force assisted speed, throwing himself with a grunt from the balcony, onto the roof of the Voidhound just above the cockpit, igniting his lightsaber in a flash of gold. The wind rushed around him, overwhelming his senses as he hunched low to stay stable. It was time to cut this thing open and end it.
The Droid was persistent, that much was for sure, Oren stepped back slightly, watching as the droid made his way towards him. His eyes shifting as he saw the right arm of the droid raise up, "Well..this doesn't look good," he'd mutter as he reached out with the force, yanking a large metal table out in front of his position.
The flames would brush up against the metal, cascading off the sides and brushing back a warm breeze against his face, which slightly burned. He would grimace as he tossed the table forward towards the droid with the force, not wasting any time to see if it hit. Instead, he would quickly rush out the door and attempt to catch up with his friends.
Mila was careful to not get too close to the X-Wings, after all, she didn't want to get blown up along with their fellow knights ticket out of here. Sadly, that didn't help when she was getting pelted with dirt, and rocks, which made this who endeavor rather annoying. Before Mila made it towards the treeline, that damn droid had finally gotten his calculations right, as while the blast didn't hit Mila directly, the kinetic force behind it caught her and sent her sailing through the air.
She tried to duck and roll with it, maybe continue onward as she landed, but she hadn't planned on striking a tree mid flight. She let out a muffled groan, as the wind was damn near knocked out of her, and she was sent tumbling onto the ground with at least one broken rib; though given the flames dancing across her rib cage it have very well been three. The force speed had its downsides after all it seemed, as between the force speeding and the sudden force, she was fortunate to still be conscious. She looked up and witnessed the cannons of the ship moving to take their aim. Seeing as she had few other options, she reached out with the force, aiming to halt them in their current position before they could totally be locked upon her; though with her weakened state, she was only managing to slow it. Hopefully Saul was close to knocking this thing out of commission, or else Mila's trust in the force was going to be put to the test.