Lights Out

[Uhtred Wardruna]

LIGHTS OUT The trip was quiet. Dead quiet, in fact. Uhtred was never really one for smuggling. It wasn't that it was beyond his skills or experience, although that too was the case, but he had never experienced the inclination toward the practice. But in strange times, the norm becomes the rarity, and the abnormal becomes that standard; for as surely as the cold froze flesh and bone, Uhtred was now in a pseudo-sealed container, riding in the back of a freighter bound for the Void Sea. Well, its outer boundaries, at least.

The Fangs of Haal Gra'avagr, a literally chaotic cult sired from the Mandalorian clans, were in the crosshairs now. Fanatical followers of a Mandalorian god whose own people even had rejected at large, the Fangs were little more than brutes that lived to sew discord wherever they went. Growing up, Uhtred hadn't heard much about the god they served, although he had heard the name before. Always whispered, always cursed. As a adult, that knowledge became more readily available to him, but it was still something Uhtred never thought of as more than a footnote.

As it turns out, when one ignored history, it had this tendency to bite one back in the arse.

"We're slowing down", Uhtred said into his helmet's comlink. Uhtred was fully equipped with his personal gear, even if he'd hoped for things to go more smoothly than outright violence. It always paid to be discrete when dealing with zealots, after all. "The ship will probably be at the docks in a few moments. We can head out then."

Uhtred was not alone; Gjun of Clan Wardruna, who was also called Gjun Greydraek, was in another container onboard the docking freighter, as was Aeron Mathis, a former gladiator that Uhtred had only just recently met, and was more or less still discovering his roots. Normally, no one would ever have considered breaking into a pirate stronghold, and honestly, Uhtred didn't even know what was so precious about what his client requested. But then, he didn't need to. He knew what cargo ID to look for, and that Fangs of Haal Gra'avagr were minimalists. Wherever the cargo was, it would be simple enough to find, provided things didn't go sideways.

@Zay @Gian Greydragon

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron quickly discovered his distaste for cramp dark spaces the moment this mission began. He was stowed away in a munitions container that was perfectly sized to double as his coffin and with his general lack of fly time every bump felt like the end... He eventually accepted that he had no control over his situation and tossed his miserable existence into fate’s sadistic grasp.

Cl-Click

Iridescent light illuminated the darkness and The Mercenary pulled out a leather bound book detailing the histories of a nomadic culture he’d become nearly obsessed with since his liberation and fell into the stories about their adventures across the stars. He eventually got comfortable with the turbulence and found himself struggling to stay awake. Sleep, as always, won out in the end.

The voice of Uhtred Wardruna snapped his eyes open. Years of gladiatorial drills and combat had taught him to sleep lightly and as soon as the com in his helm went off he was awake and ready. Their journey into the void sea was coming to a close, and the matter at hand was beginning to coalesce.

In the pit of Aeron's stomach, a small seed of anxiety began to blossom. Something was wrong. It was close to an hour after Uhtred's announcement and he was still in motion. He could tell he was off the ship, the munitions container he was in had been picked up by a hover lift and was being taken somewhere. Of course, being inside of the damn thing limited his sense of direction and he was utterly lost after the seventh turn. After what seemed like an eternity he came to a stop.

Muffled voices could be heard, but not identified. Aeron slipped his hold-out blaster from it's holster in his boot and prepared for the worst, but it never came. The voices slowly softened until they were absent altogether. The Mercenary released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He returned his blaster to it's hidden holster, did a three count and then eased open the container's hatch.

The room was dimly lit, and filled with various containers of similar shape and size of his. He scanned for anything he could use to identify his position, and eventually determined he had to be in a weapon's cache rather than the main storage facility. He looked for survailence cams or mouse droids, but the room seemed to be clear.

Opening his comm he hailed his comrades saying, "Heads up gents, I seem to be in a different storage area, lots of guns and ammo. Uhtred, what's the move?"


@Korvo @Gian Greydragon

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Uhtred felt his heartbeat quicken as the cargo container he was in rocked and shifted. It was subtle, but he could feel the difference now. No more were the shifts followed by the waning and waxing sensation of vertigo, the slight delay of the inertial dampeners kicking in to compensate for the changes in velocity and trajectory; common characteristics of flight onboard a ship. Now, everything was more static, more stable. No shifting sensation, no vertigo; were it not for the semi-stale tasting air, it would almost be like being on a planet.

Við erum á stöðinni núna, ég er viss um það, Uhtred mused to himself, keeping up with the sequences of events happening around him.

Pale light flickered through the seal of the container he was in. It was much brighter than the pitch-black cargo hold of the ship, but he would have expected no less of a change to his environment.

"Ganar ogir cuyir e miit teh Korto Rau?", one of the pirates mentioned. His Mando'a was clear and crisp, and it told Uhtred that they definitely were in the right place. These were the dar'manda of Haal Gra'avagr.

"Naas. Saruta'yr drashaar bu'gar'a, dinuir Jedha tinr. Jodus Ordo cuyir bu'pahya at cuyir hiibir ke'gyce be ukaragir, a kaysh cuyir su dayn o'r gra'or be Darjetii Eskarir."

Uhtred's brow furrowed slightly as he listened to the two guards converse while shipping his container into another dark room.

Lok af línunni, er það?, he thought, feeling his container come to a complete stop and the voices fade.

Uhtred had allowed several moments to pass before he ever-so-slightly lifted the lid of his container, peeking out into the darkness. His eyes had been well adjusted; his entire trip had been practically lightless up till this point, and by the look of things, the room wasn't being monitored. At once, Uhtred quietly removed himself from the container, careful not to make any noise, and evaluated his surroundings. It was a well-stocked room, full of containers... albeit, none of the ones belonging to his comrades.

Uhtred immediately attempted to contact Gjun, his fellowman from Clan Wardruna, but there was only static. He was out of range; it was entirely possible that he wasn't even unloaded from the cargo freighter they were on. But, Gjun had been in compromising spots before. Wherever he was, he'd make it back Bandomeer.

Before Uhtred could contact Aeron, his com signaled Uhtred first.

"Yeah, I noticed", Uhtred said, confirming Aeron's assessment that they were separated. At the same time, Uhtred noticed the slight glow of a panel against the far side of the wall.

In his approach to examine it, Uhtred recognized it as a data access terminal. It was astounding luck on his part, and the Deucalian Reaver wasted no time getting on it. A small schematic appeared on the screen, detailing the inner workings of the small station. For a bunch of fanatics, the Fangs of Haal Gra'avagr were an impressively meticulous bunch. Everything was surprisingly well organized, with each of the cargo rooms and their inventories being properly labeled and categorized.

Aeron's cargo container must have been a weapon or munitions shipment, as Uhtred's ally mentioned being surrounded by such items. His cargo room was two units down, but what was more concerning were the patrol routes and stationary positions; according to it, Uhtred was effectively surrounded by eight guards, just near his position alone. There was no way he'd be able to fight that many outright, not on his own, without some other elements or factors working in his favor. For now, he'd have to rely on stealth.

"Hold tight, Aeron. I'll be on your position soon. I know the way now, so we'll move together."

Uhtred's efforts were more successful that even he could have hoped. The Deucalian Reaver moved like a shadow, exiting the cargo room from a side entrance, probably used for maintenance, considering the door was located near to the access terminal. Sticking to the gaps in the corridors, where light was scarce, Uhtred's attempts were complimented when the guards all proceeded out of the area entirely. Perhaps it was the end of their shift. Perhaps something had attracted their attention. Whatever the case, no one was around now, and Uhtred quickly made his way down to Aeron's unit.

"Coast it clear brother, at least for now", Uhtred said, slipping into the room with weapons and ammo. "Our quarry's in the next section. Couldn't find any information on how many guards are there, but if they're anything like the ones here, we've got nothing to worry about."

It was genuinely tempting to grab something, anything, but Uhtred preferred speed over being well armed. Of course, Aeron was free to grab something if he wished. But if they played their cards right, Uhtred firmly believed they could be able to get in and out without the enemy ever knowing they were there in the first place.

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Dice thread
Aeron copied Uhtred's order. He remained hidden in the dark storage room for several minutes. He'd taken the time to ready himself, checking battery packs and slipping on his mask to complete his armor. He carried his Aflmylja in his left hand and his DH-7 in his right. Aeron knew stealth was going to be their best option and was prepared to wield his hammer with deadly force.

The Mercenary's focus was shifted to the door when a silhouetted being slipped in like a shadow, Aeron remained hidden until he heard the familiar voice of his brother in arms. "Copy, let's be off then, the sooner we finish this the sooner we can make for Deucalia."

Uhtred, Morgan, and Aeron had formed an unlikely kinship over the past few months. They seemed to naturally fall in line with one another as if they were made to work together. It was strange to have people he could trust. Aside from his trusty droid Emone, Aeron didn't have many connections and he had even fewer he trusted. To find two other beings with similar goals and desires wasn't just amazing it was a miracle. Aeron shook the mushy feelings from his mind and embraced the pragmatism of his gladiatorial training.

Aeron pulled his personav from his back pocket and pulled up the map he'd been given by the smugglers that dropped them off. The map had cost him a pretty penny, but he was glad to have it now. The schematics sprung to life between the two interlopers and it showed their current location and the location they needed to get too. Luckily, it wasn't far off. They'd need to exit their current location and head to the left. The lift they needed to get too was at the end of the hallway outside, and around a corner.

"Alright, I know where we need to go, brother. Let's move," he said stowing his personav and making his way to the door. Aeron stopped, closing his eyes and holding his breath in order to focus his hearing. He could hear the ambient noise of the ship, the hum of far off engines and the faint buzz of failing lights, but no methodical sound of guards pacing. He looked back to Uhtred and said, "It's clear, lets move."

The door opened this a harsh hiss and Aeron held for a second before moving out and to the left. He moved with practiced precision staying low, with his hammer and blaster in a ready position. They made it to the end of the hallway without a problem. The lift was straight ahead and soon they were stowed away inside.

A small smile formed on Aeron's lips and he looked over to his comrade. "How much you want to bet things are about to get exciting?"

The lift came to a stop and the doors slid open. Aeron was pressed against the wall just beside the doors and chanced a quick peek into the corridor. It was empty, but the sound of voices could be heard close by. Aeron didn't speak. He looked back to Uhtred and then signaled he'd take point. Aeron exited the lift in the same manner he'd entered. He made it to the end of the hallway and stopped at the corner to listen. The voices were to the right which of course was exactly where they needed to go. He pulled a small mirror from his pocket and used it to peek around the corner. Four guards wearing armor lounged around a table playing cards. They'd come across the break room.

The table was located in the back right corner of the room and the door they needed to get through was to the left. There was no way to avoid a conflict, but there was a chance they could catch the group by surprise. Aeron holstered his blaster and made his way into the room. He kept low and stayed to the shadows. The light in the room was dim and a haze of tobac smoke hung in the air obscuring anything outside of the top down light over the card table. Aeron closed in on the table working his way to the tables left flank, coming to a stop a mere two meters from the table. He'd taken cover behind a wet bar and was in position to strike. If they expected to maintain any semblance of stealth melee would be the way to go. The hammer in his hands seemed to hum for the violence to come.

Spoiler: dice results

With a d4 I rolled a 2 which is even meaning there was no patrol roaming the hallway outside his starting location. With a D6 I rolled a 4 which determined how many guards would act as the opposition. Finally, I checked Aeron's stealth in order to get into a good spot using a D100. I rolled a 92 meaning he vv sneaky.

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

"Right behind you, brother", Uhtred said, following Aeron's lead. Considering the fact that the station was full of fanatical Mandalorian war-zealots, things were going exceptionally smoothly. Thus far, no one had detected them. That alone was an almost priceless advantage. But better still, the area leading to the lift was devoid of security. Just like the corridor Uhtred had trespassed through, it seemed like the dar'manda warriors were leaving the area, and Uhtred hoped that was anything but a sign to be worried. Luck was seldom a faithful companion, especially when one needed it most.

"Oh, I'm counting on it", Uhtred said in response to Aeron, gently bringing his axe into his hand. Even if the worst should happen, Uhtred wanted to keep one of his hands free. If the two were able to keep themselves hidden, they might be able to take down their opposition without ever being seen, and Uhtred was ready for his hatchets if that were the case. On the other hand, his blaster was also at his side. While it was tempting to consider using his beskad in tandem with his axe, this was a space station, not a battlefield. Space was a precious commodity, and Uhtred wasn't looking to make his scarce.

Aeron went on ahead, signaling such to Uhtred. He might have been a gladiator proper, but Aeron reminded Uhtred of the stories of the ᛋᚺᚨᛞᛟᚹᚹᚨᛚᚴᛖᚱ, the famed stealth Deucalian warriors during the Hothian Civil War. Well, at least until one saw the far-from-subtle hammer in Aeron's hand. Nasty weapon, that one.

Trailing behind Aeron, he and Uhtred came to a break room, within which were several dar'manda. Uhtred traded his larger axe for a hatchet in both hands. Smaller, lighter, thinner, and deadly as throwing weapons, if their stealth attack were successful, they could potentially take out all opposition within mere moments.

ᛋᚨᛚᛞᛟᛖᛗ, ᛋᛖᛖ ᛗᛖ ᚾᛟᚹ, Uhtred thought to himself, closing his eyes as he inhaled and exhaled intently.

Two of the guards sitting at the table were marked by Uhtred's sight with deadly intent, and the Deucalian warrior quickly turned the corner and hurled the two hatchets in his hands. Perhaps the spirits beyond had blessed him, for both of Uhtred's weapons hit the mark, with the hatchet blades planting themselves deeply into the heads of two guards, killing them instantly. Quick, clean, and above all, quiet.

"Things exciting yet?", Uhtred said to Aeron, grinning as he grabbed his thermal axe, preparing to charge into the fray, supposing Aeron didn't take them down first.

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Aeron was close enough to the guards to hear their muttering complaints about their game. His body was tensed like a spring ready to release his pent up energy at a moments notice. He looked back to Uhtred's location and awaited his bother's move. Aeron knew his companion would get them off to a good start and if he wanted to utilize his proximity apprpriatly then waiting for the confusion to set in was his best bet.

Uhtred didn't disappoint. The Battlemaster burst forth from around the corner with hatchets poised to fly, and fly they did. As if guided by the force themselfes both weapons found deadly purpose in their mark and bit deeply into their targets. Gore splattered the two remaining guards and before the shock could settle in Aeron was upon them.

The Gladiator was acustomed to the gore of battle in an intimate capacity. He'd seen more terrors in one life than most would in ten and the axes pertruding from the heads of the guards did nothing to dissuade his attack. He hit the tables left flank drawing back and smoting the nearest Mandalorian with a single sickening blow. The blunt force of the attack ruined the beings unprotected face, killing him instantly. Aeron whirled using the momentum of his initial attack to hurl his hammer into the chest of the final guard. The hit sent the man backward in his chair collapsing his clavicle as the chair fell backward.

Aeron rose to his full height and stepped toward the man whose breath came is desperate sucking gasps. His eyes pleaded for life, for mercy, but they found none. Aeron picked his hammer up off the ground and put the man out of his misery. He brushed the gore off of his hammer with the fallen man's shirt and turned to face Uhtred.

"Almost," he said with a grin.

"I'm following your lead brother, take us to our prize." His grin turned into a feral smile as the bloodlust of battle began to settle over him.

Spoiler: Dice

I rolled a 78 on my attack of the final two guards, the result can be found [here]

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

The battle was, for all intents and purposes, over before it had ever begun. New pools of fresh, warm blood spilled onto the cold, metallic floors, not the least of which was the handiwork of Aeron. Uhtred liked the hammer, but axes were more his style. Still, he could very much appreciate a skillful artist at work. So too a pragmatic one. Uhtred had fought alongside soldiers in the Galactic Alliance, even some Jedi at times, and the mercy they habitually displayed was damning to the concept of logic. Any place where two warriors of conflicting sides met, without an armistice to halt them, was a battlefield, and a battlefield was no place for mercy.

"Then we go forth", Uhtred said triumphantly. "It's not much further."

The way ahead was largely empty corridors, and suspiciously again, the duo had yet to come across a true and legitimate patrol force. Either this station was considerably undermanned, woefully ill-patrolled, or they had the luck of gods with them. Examining his datapad as they walked, Uhtred examined the schematics with the layout of the station until they finally came to the correct door. It was basic in appearance, unassuming from any other. Without pause, Uhtred accessed the door panel and opened the door at once. Inside was a collection of lockboxes and standard cases, but without anyone in sight. But sight, or rather the lackthereof, was the demon of the details.

Uhtred had managed to just hear the metallic clomp-as a dar'manda took a step forward to stab his blade into Uhtred's lower abdomen. A slight delay would have lasted should the attack connect, with Uhtred staring at the the all-too-familiar Mandalorian iron that was sticking out of the other side of his belly.

"Par kote be Haal Gra'avagr...", the outcast Mandalorian would say, calming and without any malice, forcefully pulling his Mandalorian beskad-out of Uhtred's body the way it went in as Uhtred himself fell to the ground, halfway curled as he seethed in pain. "Cti'ne paravetr, gar cuyir...", he'd say in conclusion, turning his attention to Aeron next.

Spoiler: Dice

Uhtred rolled a 1! So yeah, he got shanked lol

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Uhtred led the way, victory was in their grasp, but Aeron's bloodlust demanded to be satiated. His sense were on high alert as they methodically moved through the corridors. They were shadows in the night slipping into the final room with no real opposition to their cause. At least that's what the two Decalians believed...

The sudden clang of a metal boot on the durasteel floor snapped his attention toward the shadows before them, but he was too late. Uhtred gasped and froze in place, the Mandalorian spoke in it's bastardized language with all the smug condescension of every slave owner on Loovria. Aeron's eyes went wide with fury as he watched the Mandalorian roughly remove his blade from Uhtred.

ᚺᛟᛚᛞ ᚠᚨᛋᛏ ᛒᚱᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ, ᛞᛖᚨᛏᚺ ᚲᛟᛗᛖᛋ ᚠᛟᚱ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚨᛞᚡᛖᚱᛋᚨᚱᚤ said Aeron as he sank into a defensive stance. His hammer was drawn back and ready to strike, feral smile upon his lips and bloodlust in his eyes. It would be a lie to say he wasn't excited for the challenge, but time was of the essence and he knew this fight would be to the death. It would be determined in two or three moves. The moment one of them made a mistake it would be over and Aeron was confident that his hammer would strike true.

The Mandalorian took his fighting stance and the deadly dance began. Aeron started to circle to his left and his adversary mirrored it. They sized one another up in only the way two warriors who've fought to the death can. There were no jeers or wisecracks only two wills pitted against one another seeking any fault in their opponent. Aeron glanced down to Uhtred and the Mandalorian lunged, and with deadly purpose, Aeron swung his hammer.

A muted Pwong reverberated off the side of the bastard's helmet. A sickening dent was immediately visible as the being spun a 360 before crashing to the ground. His knife skittered across the ground and his body lay motionless, but Aeron wasn't done. He loomed over the being and with both hands grasping the pommel of his hammer he delivered two blows to the Mandalorian's head ensuring his adversaries death.

Satisfied with the utter defeat of his enemy, Aeron returned his hammer to his belt and stepped to Uhtred. The man held his stomach and he was bleeding. Aeron had seen plenty of gut wounds in his time on the sands and was apprehensive to investigate further.

"ᛒᚱᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ, ᚲᚨᚾ ᚤᛟᚢ ᛗᛟᚡᛖ? ᚹᛖ ᚺᚨᚡᛖ ᛏᛟ ᛋᛖᚲᚢᚱᛖ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚲᚨᚱᚷᛟ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛗᚨᚴᛖ ᛟᚢᚱ ᛖᛋᚲᚨᛈᛖ!"

Spoiler: Dice

Attack Roll was a success.

@Korvo

 

[Uhtred Wardruna]

Careless and stupid

That was the thought that ran though Uhtred's mind. He knew better. He was raised better, he'd been trained better than this. His parents argued frequently, but the one thing they always had in common was their words whenever Uhtred had done something due to his complacency or hubris. His mother gave that stern, disappointed look more often, and it was Uhtred's father that typically said it aloud.

That was careless, son. Careless and stupid.

"ᚹᛖ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ, ᛁ ᚲᚨᚾ ᛗᛟᚡᛖ. ᛒᚢᛏ...", Uhtred said, turning red as he straed in pain from the stab wound, forcing himself to stand up as he clutched his injury. "...ᚠᛁᚱᛋᛏ ᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷᛋ ᚠᛁᚱᛋᛏ."

Uhtred stumbled over to the dead dar'manda. The manner of his demise was savagely brutal, to say the least, and Uhtred would be lying if he didn't feel a smug and vindictive sense of satisfaction with it. This man might have been a dar'manda, but Uhtred was hoping he was still Mandalorian enough to have some of the basic necessities that would have otherwise been mandatory of him. A sigh of relief came as Uhtred saw that it was indeed the case. A medpack, concealed behind a sash, unused and fully stocked. Uhtred ripped it off the dead dar'manda's corpse and spat on him.

"ᚠᚢᚲᚴ ᚤᛟᚢᚱ ᚺᚨᚨᛚ ᚷᚱᚨ'ᚨᚡᚨᚷᚱ", Uhtred said spitefully, before dropping to the ground. Opening the medkit, Uhtred pulled out the necessary tools and chemical agents as he applied them to his wounds. A clotting agent first, to stop the bleeding, then a cleaning agent to cleanse the area of the wounds. Next, a disinfectant, and finally, the sealing the open wounds fully through kolto, and gelatinous patches to close over the sites.

Uhtred was out of danger, and he could still fight effectively, but he would need proper medical treatment later to ensure his health and recovery. Walking over to the cargo in the room, Uhtred opened up the container and his eyes shined in approval. Such a small thing, and yet so valuable. Nodding, Uhtred closed the small container and stored in along his waist before turning back to Aeron.

"ᛒᚱᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ, ᛚᛖᛏ'ᛋ ᚷᛖᛏ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚠᚢᚲᚴ ᛟᚢᛏ ᛟᚠ ᚺᛖᚱᛖ", Uhtred said in exasperation. He'd had enough of this space station, and the bloody Mandalorian cultists.

Leading the way, Uhtred followed the map he'd acquired previously to navigate them back to the hangar bay. There were a number of shuttles within it, and that was how the duo were planning to make their escape. As they neared it, Uhtred played things much more cautiously, carefully moving toward the large hangar doorway instead of simply going in without pause. He was not keen on getting stabbed again.

To his great surprise, the hanger once again seemed devoid of any presence. Uhtred couldn't help but burrow his brow in perplexity. How the hell were these dar'manda so effective at terrorizing others when they barely had enough of a presence to keep themselves secured? A new thought then trickled into Uhtred's mind, which rendered a somewhat grim revelation as to what might have been the case.

ᚺᚨᚱᛞᛚᚤ ᚨᚾᚤᛟᚾᛖ ᚺᛖᚱᛖ... ᛒᛖᚲᚨᚢᛋᛖ ᛏᚺᛖᚤ'ᚱᛖ ᚨᛚᛚ ᛒᚢᛋᚤ ᚱᚨᛗᛈᚨᚷᛁᚾᚷ ᛏᚺᚱᛟᚢᚷᚺᛟᚢᛏ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛟᚢᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛁᛗ

"ᚨᛚᛚ ᚲᛚᛖᚨᚱ! ᛚᛖᛏ'ᛋ ᚷᛟ, ᛒᚱᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ!", Uhtred said, eager to leave.

Pushing himself through the pain, Uhtred sprinted toward a shuttle, one of several in the hanger bay, and rushed inside and to the cockpit. Uhtred preferred flying more agile ships, particularly fighters, but at this point, he didn't feel like casually complaining.

@Zay

 

[Aeron Mathis]

Pragmatic as always, Aeron moved to the door keeping watch for any lingering patrols. Uhtred treated his wound using the medkit from the fallen Mandalorian. Smart, he thought as he glanced back at the sound of the Kolto injector. Once he was patched up, Uhtred moved toward the cargo and grabbed the item they'd come to obtain. Success was finally within their reach. All they had to do was steal away with the prize. A small smile split his lips as he bobbed his head in agreement with Uhtred.

ᛚᛖᚨᛞ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚹᚨᚤ he said gesturing for the battle master to take the lead.

Aeron fell in behind Uhtred and the two moved with practiced stealth as they picked their way to the hanger. When they arrived they found it empty and they both looked at one another confusion apparent. This felt like a trap it was so easy. Apparently, these fallen Mandalorians had allowed themselves to fall out of practice. Wasting no time the pair rushed for the nearest shuttle and began prepping it for take-off. Aeron took the pilots seat. Uhtred was still hurt and even though he put up a strong front, the sweat beading at his brow belied the pain he felt.

In a matter of minutes, the ship was up and out into wild space. Their mission complete. Aeron turned to Uhtred and said, "Don't get used to me flying you around."

They prepped the ship for hyperspace and watched the starscape before them elongate and then burst into the mottled undulating blue hues of hyperspace.

Mission Complete​

@Korvo