Manual Labor

[Vuthari]

OOC: This thread takes place at the same time as the attacks on Corellia which take place at the same time as the Kaggath. Vu’thari is wearing a cloak with his lekku tucked within and wrapped around his neck.

Outside of LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

Nar Shaddaa. 85 Billion souls crammed on one moon. Imperial Hutta maintains a tenuous grip on the criminal capital of the galaxy, ruled in large by the Hutts. It is an area that is spread thin due to lack of manpower, lack of funding and a lack of motivation to commit what is needed to clamp down the resistant factions on the many levels of the “Smuggler’s Moon”…

To Vu’thari, a five year resident of Nar Shaddaa, all it meant to him was that rebellion was on the cusp of taking hold…it just needed a push in the right direction. To the Jedi Master and his Padawans, this was personal. It was their home. The LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp was a bastion of slave labor, where the captives were put to work to support the Imperial Republica’s war machine. Men, women and children of all species were forced onto manual labor working for the Empire, which left hidden resentment that welled in the bellies of those who were affected...and even some who weren't.

This assignment hit home and was undertaken without pause from the trio. This particular labor camp provided supplies for the Imperial Hutta soldiers. It was on the upper levels of Nar Shaddaa, away from the risk of "discontent" from the masses on the bottom level of the moon.

Geared for conflict, the Jedi Master wore his lightsaber tucked in a hidden pocket within the hip of his tunic. A DH-7 Blaster pistol was tucked in a thigh holster on his right leg, followed by his spread of grenades underneath his jacket. Beside him, Prax and Ayasha crouched down as they were about to make their way from the shadows to the rear entrance. This facility had never been under attack in any way, so absolute the rule of the Imperials…but this was a new day.

The approach was like any other Nar Shaddaa resident, walking by, as if the labor camp was “supposed” to be there, but as they passed the guardhouse and into the shadowy confines of darkness, they stayed, ensuring they were not observed…

@Wolf
@Critas

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

Daniel had taken a terrible, terrible wrong turn.

Not the best with directions at the best of times, when his datapad died and he lost his GPS to the casino he was supposed to be going to, the young man had become horribly lost. He had, somehow, ended up doubling back on himself and wandering into the less savory parts of town. Of course, nobody wanted to mess with a fully armed Mandalorian with a lightsaber hanging from his belt full of many grenades and other highly illegal weaponry so he had just kept walking.

There was so much to see!! He had taken his helmet off to get a better look at things. The lights, the sounds, the smells! Everything was so new and shiny to a young man who'd spent most of his youth on Mandalore working in a bakery. Though he had been to Nar Shaddaa once before, that had been for business and he had not had the opportunity to explore quite in the way he wanted to. Now however, alone and left to his own devices, the certain parts of him that had earned him the nickname "Dopey Badger" took over.

It was an hour before he realized just how lost he had become. He had found a big, industrial looking building that had looked like a prime place to find an exterior outlet with which to charge his datapad. He had simply walked past the guardhouse. Either they hadn't seen him or didn't want to question a Mandalorian Field Marshal who looked like he had business at the labor camp, either way he had walked right past without really realizing where he was.

Eventually, he found an access port and plugged in his datapad. While he was waiting for it to charge, he noticed a small group of people heading from the direction he had come. Just his luck! He could ask for directions and find his way to where he was supposed to be. The dark was scaring him just a little, truth be told. He approached the one at the front, a man wrapped in a dark cloak. Perhaps this would have been a sign to other people, but Daniel was oblivious to things like that at the best of times.

"Uh, excuse me, sir," He said polietly, "I seem to have become lost. Would you be able to driect me to the 'Super Jawa Squad' convention?" With his helmet off, his cheerful smile and sparkling, friendly eyes were clear as day.

@Critas
@Wolf
@Mithias

 

[Ayasha Waya]

The noise, the crowds and the pollution were all in high numbers on Nar Shaddaa. One thing conspicuously absent from the surface of the “Smuggler's Moon” were trees. Tall, gentle deciduous giants offering shade on a hot day, a reprieve to read beneath or a bark covered friend to rest one's weary body against. There was no such thing in this place. Even after months of living amongst filth of both the literal and figurative senses, Ayasha was still hungry for the arboreal friendships she had known on Galtea. Here, the only thing that towered overhead were buildings with innumerable floors, and the shadows they offered beneath were the places that Vu'thari had advised his padawan to avoid.

There were many things in the galaxy that the young woman had been ignorant of upon meeting the Jedi Master who walked beside her. She knew little of technology, of proper etiquette or of clothing. Lying was a foreign concept to her. Hate, anger, fear and aggression had been rarities in her culture. She knew nothing of greed or of something which all of those negative emotions beget: slavery. It was not until Ayasha had met Prax was she able to put a face to the topic. Until then, it was something she had stumbled across while doing research on her datapad.

The padawan's experience had been the polar opposite of many who had found themselves in the position of servitude. She had come from nothing, arrived with nothing and had nothing to offer Vu'thari. He took her in and clothed her, fed her and trained her. In return, Ayasha offered her life to the service of the Galactic Alliance, to the Jedi and to the benefit of the greater good. She had proudly accepted the mantle of bond servant to the Force, free to walk away but choosing to stay. There were millions of voiceless, defenseless victims dispersed across the expanse of the greater galaxy and together, their silent yet unified plea was for justice.

Today, justice was coming.

As the trio neared the labor camp, Ayasha ran down a mental check list of her mission responsibilities. Her objective was clear and she emptied her mind of any thought except that which she had been called to do. The lightsaber that had belonged to Vu'thari's late grandfather was tucked away out of sight beneath her tunic. The weight of it against her hip was reassuring, though she prayed its lethal potential was not needed. As she walked, her hand brushed against the blaster pistol sitting snugly within the leathery embrace of the holster upon her right thigh. Its presence was comforting and troubling at once, as she knew how to use it and she could use it well. Between her tunic and body armor sat a handful of grenades, ready for a moment such as this. It was all a matter of time now before the little beings, hungry for action, would see their day.

Within the confines of the shadows just outside of the rear entrance to the labor camp, the trio crouched down. They said nothing to one another. No glances were exchanged. They knew the mission ahead of them and they knew it well. Their eyes scanned the area around the guardhouse but saw nothing that bade them return from whence they came. Perhaps it was unmanned, perhaps there was a change in guard or a break...the trio did not care and so they slipped by unnoticed. The three hugged the shadows and passed well within the gates unobserved when suddenly, a smiling armored man approached the group.

“We look like associates...” the familiar words the padawan had used on Dunari's Rest once again silently slipped into the Jedi Master's mind. It was for this very reason that the young woman did not stop nor did she even flinch as the stranger approached Vu'thari.

Ayasha rolled her eyes and continued walking as she heard him begin to explain his plight. It appeared as though he had become lost and was looking for a gathering that she surmised was more appropriate for a teenage boy than a man. However, her most recent experiences with the opposite sex had left her wondering what, if anything, she really knew about them in the first place. The woman knew better than to completely leave the range at which the Jedi Master could help her should she encounter trouble, but she slipped around a corner out of sight and is if planted there by the Force, she was greeted by a ladder to the roof.

The young woman climbed several rungs and peered over the top of the building which was covered in a shadow cast by the rising levels beside it. Ayasha pulled herself up and crouched as she hugged the raised lip of the roof. It gave her just enough protection that she was able to get close enough to a caged area where a number of men, women and even children stood shackled together by heavy chains. They wore rags for clothing and their emaciated bodies appeared to be dying with each passing minute. Their gaunt faces wore lifeless expressions and the light within their eyes had long since gone.

Ayasha's heart was breaking at the sight, but she knew that they would taste freedom because of her efforts. From her waist she quickly retrieved a small device with a camera on one end and a button at the base. Her hand trembled as she held it just over the top of the lip of the building and began to snap photographs of the group in rapid fire succession. Without wasting a moment's time, the padawan quietly slipped back into the shadow beside the structure that towered beside the rooftop. There were no windows, save for three just along the bottom nearly at eye level.

With a great deal of stealth, Ayasha creeped along the building's edge until she neared the first window. She slowly rose until the tops of her eyes were able to catch a glimpse within...and the sight was one she would not soon forget. There in the middle of an austere and sterile room laid a heap of bodies. This at one time had likely been a proper morgue, but with the number of slaves that the facility introduced on what was now likely a daily basis, the death toll rose as well. Clearly those working that end of the business had found themselves overwhelmed and overrun and so this was the result.

A heavy feeling of sickness churned within the young woman's stomach. She wanted to hate the people that were doing this to the innocent souls that had never had a chance to live, but she knew that such emotions were inappropriate for a Jedi. The want for hate was overcome with the want for justice and so, the woman thrust the small recording device up into the window and began clicking photos of the inside of the room. A few moments passed and she believed that there was enough evidence on the device that Commander Hugo Ion would find most valuable. As she slipped unnoticed through the shadows toward the ladder, she pressed a button on the back of the camera. Ahead of the mission, she had preprogrammed the device to send directly to the head of the Galactic Alliance instead of to her own personal data storage system as it once had.

The padawan peered over the edge of the building and she saw nothing at the bottom of the ladder and so, she swung her legs over and climbed down a few rungs before she jumped the rest of the way to land firmly upon her feet. She shoved the recording device back into its place upon her belt and slowly moved toward the edge of the building at the corner she had rounded after moving away from Vu'thari and Prax. She reached out with the Force to feel for any presence around the edge, but she could only sense the faint Force signatures of of the Jedi Master and her fellow padawan from the direction she had come.

Ayasha drew in a deep breath and she noticed her racing heart begin to slow to its usual pace. She would wait there in the safety of the alcove until the stranger was able to return to his business so that the Jedi could return to theirs.


@Mithias
@Critas
@Lucid

 

[Prax Dek]

Prax was having to work hard to keep his emotions in check for this mission. For him it was most certainly personal. Slavery was something that had touched his life quite literally for over fifteen years. It had taken the death of his father at his own hands to gain him his freedom. He still bore the brands, tattoos and physical scars of his time as a slave, along with the brand across his face which showed he had been freed. The emotional scars cut quite a bit deeper and Prax was not sure they would ever heal.

The slave trade of Nar Shaddaa was a several million credit a year business. They sold to all comers, if you had the credits, they had the stock. They didn’t discriminate by race, gender or age, all slaves were available for any number of roles. If you could think it up, there was a slave on Nar Shaddaa that could fit that bill. One of the largest purchasers of slaves was the Imperial Republica. Prax had not had a master from the Imperial Republica during his fifteen years plus of captivity.

Once he had joined the rebellion, Prax had been exposed to a great many things. He had seen things and flown to places that boggled the young man’s mind. As he looked out over the LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp, it was almost like coming home. He had not been a guest of this particular camp, but he had been in many like it. It was not like the slave pens he had spent most of his life, but the pain, misery and hopelessness were much the same across the galaxy.

Prax had dressed for what he knew would be a fight. He wore his generic Ranger Scout Armor, it had no armor functions but still offered a great deal of protection. He wore his R5R blaster rifle across his back and had an R5 blaster pistol in a leather holster strapped to his hip. A bandoleer of grenades and three vibroknives rounded out his armaments. The Scout armor was designed to maximize mobility while still offering the wearer as much protection as possible.

Kneeling in the darkness, Prax watched the sentries in the camp move about with a definite indifference. They had an air about them that they were above attack and could not even conceive of the notion of someone striking the camp. This overconfidence would be their downfall as the three rebels were here to do just that with extreme prejudice. Prax wore a digital camo poncho over his armor and he kept his helmet on. The last thing he needed was some overseer to recognize his tattoos or brands and to get suspicious.

Walking quickly, they passed the outer guardhouse without being challenged. The lackadaisical attitude of the guards was amazing even to Prax. He frowned under his helmet, he didn’t trust it. It all appeared too easy to him. It shouldn’t be this easy then again, it was always easy to get into prison or slavery, it was getting out that was the trick. Yes, they were keeping to shadows and remaining as stealthy as possible, but a lost bumpkin had seen them and that did not bode well for their chances. Seeing Vu’thari peel off to speak to the human, Prax slid into the shadows and skirted the edge of the building Ayasha had climbed.

Moving quickly between buildings, Prax made his way to a small compound where the slaves’ children were kept. It was an old slavers trick to have the children of their workers live and play in plain sight. It provided morale for their slaves while also ensuring their loyalty. The guns of the guards could just as easily be turned on their children as the slaves themselves. It had bothered Prax when he had been a slave and it bothered him now.

Keeping to the shadows, Prax came up behind a guard who was actually sleeping on duty. He recalled that guarding the children was a well gambled for shift among the guards as it was seen as light duty. Prax slid his hand down and slowly drew one of his vibroknives from its sheath at his belt. The well-oiled leather allowed the blade to slide free noiselessly. Prax raised the knife and quickly placed his hand over the guard’s mouth, the vibroblade flashed and cut a line across the throat of the guard. Arterial blood darkened the ground and front of the guard’s uniform as he died. Prax held the body tight until all life had left it and then slowly lowered it to the ground, secreting it behind some crates.

Grabbing the guards card key, he accessed the gate to the children’s work and play area and slid like a shadow into the fenced in perimeter. He made his way to the children’s barracks and opened the door to the building, again using the guards stolen card. In a flash he was inside and could hear the sounds of children sleeping. As he started to count heads a sound caught his attention. One of the children was having night terrors. Prax recalled having much the same affliction when he was young and slid over to the child's bunk. He cradled the little boy for several moments until the tremors and tears stopped and soft snoring replaced them. Looking at the boys face, he seemed to see his own for a moment in the darkness.

@Mithias
@Lucid
@Wolf

 

[Vuthari]

Outside of LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

To the twi’lek, there was more to this operation than just the labor camp—he was attuned to the ebb and flow of the emotions at work within Prax and Ayasha. It would affect his two apprentices differently, but both would be susceptible to darkness in their own way. To the Jedi Master, he could feel the despair within the camp as it was within sight of him. While the twi’lek had been able to mitigate the effects of the sorrow, desperation and hopelessness that was rampant within Nar Shaddaa, this was a different matter altogether. Monitoring his own feelings was just as important at this juncture as it was monitoring his two padawans. This was more than just freeing slave...this was a message to the Empire that this was not their territory. He knew from his interaction with the underworld figures in Imperial Hutta that they resented the rule they were under. Rebellion was always brimming at the surface. In truth, the Hutts ruling Hutt space again was preferable to Imperial Hutta ruling Hutt space. Mainly, because the Hutts would still be doing the same thing...just they would make more credits without the oversight of Imperial Hutta...Hutts do not like to be taxed.

As they stayed within the shadows, the unmistakable silhouette of a beskar’gam rounded the corner and caught sight of the trio. Using this as an opportunity to scamper off, both of his Padawans left of their own accord to begin what needed to be accomplished here. Vu’thari would indeed use this as a distraction in the event other eyes were watching their progress. Security recorders were nowhere pointed in their direction, so the Jedi decided to speak frankly with the Mandalorian…

"Uh, excuse me, sir…”

With that, the Mandalorian asked for directions. Sensing the emotional state of the warrior, Vu’thari determined that the man was truly lost. For five years, a good portion of his customer base was from clients who wanted discretion away from the watchful eyes of Imperial Hutta. A large portion of those clients were Mando’ade. He did find when he took the time to learn their language, the Mandalorians took Vu’thari a bit more seriously. In fact, speaking that language in Imperial controlled territory these days was to invite death. It was even more brazen to wear a full kitted beskar’gam in Imperial Hutta…openly. A warm smile crept to the twi’lek’s face as he responded, “ Te convention? Bic cuyir daab te chortav bat te staabi. Ni vercopa bic doesn't ve'ganir interrupted ti te sounds be captives being freed teh ibic darjetii labor camp. De te ara, Ni doubt te darjetii be imperial hutta Ru'kel baatir too much par a Mando o'r yaihi'l beskar'gam walking daab val streets. Ni? Ni approve be te haa'taylir."

@Critas
@Lucid
@Wolf

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

Labor camp? That's what this place was? Daniel was taken aback...so caught up in his own little world he had no idea what he had--literally--stumbled into. More alarmingly, the man spoke Mando'a...it made Daniel wonder. Dio had a longtime friend on this world; he thought that this might be the guy. Certainly any friend of Dio's would be in the thick of things, freeing prisoners and being a champion of what was right.

"The lightsaber I took from a Sith's dead hand at Bilbringi generally makes them think twice," Daniel responded in the same language. He had a thousand questions. He knew Raz, Wyatt and Dio were all at Corellia doing something big with their new friends in the secretive Galactic Alliance. He wondered if this was part of the same operation, but it was far too dangerous a thing to ask in the open. Instead, Daniel slipped his helmet over his head, taking a leap of faith that he hoped wouldn't come back to bite him later.

"The convention will still be there when we're done," he said, inserting himself into the stranger's plans. "I think we may have a mutual friend who would very much approve of what is going on here. The least I can do is help you out." There was laughter in his voice coming from under the helmet. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it seems like you could use an experienced hand...your friends walked right past a Mandalorian Field Marshal without even stopping to think that maybe I had friends. They're in over their heads."

It was a stark contrast to the man of a moment before but the stranger who spoke Mando'a had hit Daniel right in his core. This is what he wanted to be doing, what he should be doing. If he was to lead the Mandalorian people down the right path of liberating those under the oppression of the Sith Empires then he had to be at the front. Reasonably certain that these people posed little thread to him, if they had a common enemy he extended an armored hand to Vu'thari.

"I am Daniel Solus. Let's not waste any more time."

With that, he turned and followed the steps of the man's group deeper into the shadows, rifle up and ready.

 

[Ayasha Waya]

The padawan sighed to herself as she leaned out from the alcove and caught sight of Vu'thari speaking with the lost man. Prax approached and walked past, clearly on a mission of his own. Ayasha could sense the emotions swirling within and around her fellow student. She could not imagine what he was facing, having been a slave himself. He now had the opportunity to give the precious gift of freedom to an entire camp full of lives that were literally hanging on a chain.

Ayasha turned into the darkness to walk back toward the Jedi Master, but instead of completing her journey to return to his side, the Force lead her into an entrance to her right. She pushed a dilapidated screen door open while searching the shadows for any sign of a threat, her hand hovering just above her blaster pistol. Just ahead, she could feel a large number of life signatures within the Force. These lives were not vibrant and glowing as was the case with Vu'thari and others she had encountered...these lives were dim and seemed to flicker as a bulb on the brink of burning out.

A lanyard with a keycard carelessly hung upon a rusty hook just outside of a second door about a meter from the entrance. The padawan retrieved it and swiped the credentials through the key reader before tucking the piece of plastic into a pouch upon her belt. There was a good deal of identifying information upon the card, something she thought had the potential of being useful later on down the road. The door swung open and as Ayasha passed through the frame, her golden eyes were met with a heart wrenching sight. She gasped and stepped backwards, her mind unable to process what she had just walked into.

Heavy chains hung from the ceiling, some were attached to the floor and more still were affixed to the walls. At the end of each chain was a naked shell of a woman, many of which appeared to be very young girls. The padawan's eyes burned with tears as she looked over the room that held somewhere between thirty and fifty female slaves used for the most vile form of bondage. Their sole purpose in this life was to indulge the carnal fantasies of those employed at this abominable facility.

As Ayasha's eyes adjusted to the darkness, the bodies before her began to come into view more clearly. Each of the women had obviously been battered. Dark bruises covered their delicate frames. The padawan gave into the tears that were pushing against the ducts keeping them at bay. As she granted them permission to fall, streams flowed down her cheeks releasing with them the physical ache within her chest. The young woman reached to her belt and grasped hold of the recording device. She quickly lifted it above her head, snapped several photos and pressed the 'send' button upon its back. The padawan shoved the device back into belt as her mind raced with her next course of action.

A pair of lifeless eyes suddenly grew wide as they fell upon Ayasha's tear streaked face. “I knew you would come,” a voice whispered from the woman's dry, cracked and bleeding lips. The padawan placed a finger up to her mouth and bade the woman silence for their safety. “Yes, tonight you will taste freedom,” the raven haired padawan said with a wide smile as she brushed the little salty droplets from her cheeks. Several of the other woman began to take notice and a ripple of hope flowed through the Force, enveloping the entire room.

The Galtean native studied the cuffs around the wrists of the woman before her and noticed the electronic function of them. This had the potential to make her work either incredibly easy, or very difficult. The slave's eyes moved to the wall behind the padawan and she nodded in the direction of a panel equipped with a switch. Ayasha briefly placed a hand upon the woman's shoulder with silent gratitude meeting her eyes.

The padawan turned and rushed to the panel. The language, though not Basic, was something she had seen in her studies. She looked back to the woman who gave a weak smile. Ayasha's eyes moved up to a numbered tag just above her head. She glanced back to the panel and noticed a key pad, assuming that typing in a particular number would correlate with the release of that particular woman. She did not have time for releasing them individually. These women were assets and the padawan had to assume that in the event of an emergency, all of them could have been released and ushered from the building at once...but how? Ayasha closed her eyes for a moment and allowed the Force to control her hands. She flicked her finger over the number '0' four times and then pulled the lever. Behind her, she could hear the sweet sound of freedom as the cuffs opened, each with a quiet hiss.

The murmur of women's voices slowly swarmed through the large cell. Ayasha used her hands to make a motion over the group indicating that they should keep their voices down. “I know you have no clothing but we have no time. You're going to walk out of that door and run to the right. Keep to the shadows,” the padawan urged in hushed tones. Several heads nodded as the women began to push towards the door. Ayasha went ahead of the group. Her eyes scanned the darkness just outside of the screen door but still, there was nothing of concern.

“Don't look back,” the padawan whispered to the women who immediately began spilling out of the door in a single file line. They did just as she had instructed and hugged the wall to the left, staying within the protection of the shadows. “Don't look back,” she urged the next set that appeared to be very young girls. Ayasha wore a strong smile, though she felt the world crashing down around her. The concept of owning someone else was despicable. Each of these women were beautiful souls with the potential to impact the galaxy with their unique talents and abilities. Instead of living out that opportunity, these priceless beings had been bought and sold for mere credits.

Wherever destiny or the Force would take each of them now, the padawan was unsure. What she did know however, was that they would carry these physical and emotional wounds with them likely for the rest of their lives. Many of them would go on to live as Prax now did, keeping much of what they had experienced and were feeling bottled up within. How Ayasha wished that she could embrace each of them and tell them the truth of their worth. She wanted to tell these women how valuable they were. She wanted to tell them that they were worthy of love and life and happiness. She wanted to tell them to dream big, even though she knew that dreams were a luxury few could afford in this ever darkening galaxy.

As each slave passed by, Ayasha smiled warmly, making eye contact with the few that would return her gaze. She touched several women on the shoulder, sending a bit of silent encouragement to them via the Force. As the line spilled out onto the streets of Nar Shaddaa, the final remaining women were now exiting the building. The padawan smiled as her heart swelled with joy for the captives that had been set free. This was what she had been born to do. The young woman stepped just inside of the screen door as she peered into the dark empty cell. Once sure that nobody remained, the padawan made a brazen move.

By the leading of the Force, the raven haired woman reached her hand within the folds of her tunic and pulled a fragmentation grenade out. She quickly turned the timer dial to allow herself thirty seconds to get away. She pressed a switch on the device's small activation panel and then launched the grenade back into the chamber. Without hesitation, the padawan turned and ran out of the building in the direction of the Jedi Master. She covered her ears while sprinting toward the twi'lek. She did not have time to be concerned with the man who she could only assume was still lost as he stood talking the lekku off of the pink skinned alien.

“Run,” she said flatly while passing the men. Suddenly a loud explosion erupted within the structure. Glass shattered and wood splintered. Debris blew out of the front and side of the building which groaned and creaked under duress. Ayasha stopped a few meters from Vu'thari and ducked as the tremor rocked the immediate area. She grinned and popped her head up while offering her Master a sheepish grin. “I thought I would announce our arrival,” she quipped between breaths. “Who's this?” she motioned toward the fully armored man.

 

[Prax Dek]

Prax sat there for a few moments, holding the child and considering if he could realistically let him go. Running steps outside the building brought him back to his senses. The children and he were not out of the woods just yet, there was still work to be done. Placing a hand over the child’s mouth, he softly woke him up. The child’s eyes popped open and he looked around the room wildly. He started to thrash and Prax brought his other hand up to his mouth and told the boy, “Shhhh I am here to get you out.” He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing to allay the boys inherent fears.

The boy continued to thrash, not trusting this figure in the dark until a flash of light illuminated Prax’s face. The boy was able to see the brands and tattoos that marked Prax as a slave. His eyes focused on the long scar across his face that announced to the world that Prax had been freed. The boy raised a hand to trace the branded scar for a moment and then he nodded. Scampering out of Prax’s grip, he quickly started to wake the other children. Very soon Prax was surrounded by in excess of fifty children, staring at him in various stages of sleepiness and hope. The hope was what overwhelmed Prax and brought a tear to one eye, he could feel the nexus of that hope and it was all centered on him.

Prax raised a hand to his lips once more and then pointed, not trusting himself to speak. The children nodded as one to his instructions which sent Prax into motion. He turned and went back to the door they had entered through. Looing out through the dark portal, Prax saw the body of the guard still lying where he had placed it. There appeared to be no alarm as, yet which was good. He caught sight of Ayasha entering the women’s quarters and frowned, being well aware of what his fellow padawan might find there.

Wiping that image from his mind, Prax got on with the business of saving the children. He knew that the entire mission was based around this as none of the other slaves would leave unless the children were free. Turning to the group behind him, he moved and arranged the line to have larger children carry or shepherd the smaller ones, so they did not fall behind. The boy he had originally awakened came up last and appeared to have taken charge. Prax started the column moving and looked out across the camp as the first few small faces started to appear.

It appeared to Prax to be taking longer than it should have. The children were definitely distracted by something. Prax turned quickly, losing focus on the compound, to regard the children. He was not sure what to make of what he saw or even how he should handle it. The children were taking turns, as they passed the body of the dead guard, kicking the body. He could feel the catharsis that was coming from the gesture, the release and also the hatred and fear from the children that spawned the act. Prax decided to allow the act to continue, he knew it was slowing them down but there were some things that just needed to be done.

After he was able to get the full column moving, he set them on the path towards where he could see Vu’thari and the stranger speaking in the darkness. He knew that Vu’thari would ensure the children got out and as they all passed him, running full tilt towards the twi’lek, Prax considered his secondary objective, the fuel assembly. But, before he could turn, he felt a weight wrap around his right leg. He looked down into the face of the young boy and saw him smile and mouth the words Thank You. Prax smoothed the boys hair and simply nodded to the genuine gesture before ushering him after the rest of the running children.

@Mithias
@Lucid
@Wolf

 

[Vuthari]

Outside of LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

As the Mandalorian was talking, Vu’thari wanted to get a sense of who he was dealing with—and saw the badger: Solus. That was good news…at least when the blaster bolts started flying. The Mandalorian continued their conversation in Mand’oa and he explained the Sith lightsaber on his hip. the lost stranger started speaking on the convention he was trying to find, but it seemed this event was far more interesting to the Mandalorian.

When he spoke of a mutual friend, Vu’thari responded back in Mand’oa, “D? Indeed I think he would approve.”

Vu’thari listened as the Mandalorian made his assessment on what was occurring. The twi’lek nodded and smirked, “Perhaps we are in over our heads. It would not be the first time…and certainly will not be the last.”

"I am Daniel Solus. Let's not waste any more time."

As if on cue, an explosion rocked one of the nearby buildings and shortly after, streams of young slaves were sprinting away from the labor camp. Looking over at Daniel, he grinned, “Speaking of in over our heads, I am Vu’thari.”

Ayasha pulled up and breathed, “I thought I would announce our arrival. Who is this?”

Smirking at Ayasha, the Jedi pulled his blaster pistol and gestured to the Mandalorian, “So we could hear! That is Daniel. Daniel, this is Ayasha. He knows Dio…shall we?”

The trio made their way deeper into the labor camp. One of the Imperial Hutta sentries rolled around the corner, firing up in the air, “Stop, or I will gun you all down!”

The twi’lek got the sentry’s attention and quipped, “All of us?”

Spinning his head and weapon around, quickly attempting to level it, the Jedi snapped off a pair of shots, catching the guard in the chest. Still moving, the trio entered into the main structure, where more of the “VIP” prisoners were supposed to be kept. Vu'thari explained quickly, "They keep the women and children on the outskirts and on the outer levels. The males are kept in the ares where it is smoky, toxic, or dangerous in some way--that is in the northern section. In the interior, where we are headed, they keep the political prisoners, revolutionaries, and others that needed to be interrogated, including Hutts and Hutt allies working behind Imperial Hutta's back..."

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[Daniel Solus (old)]

Daniel saw the children and knew that they would need more than just luck to evacuate everyone through this area. He accepted Vu'thari's introduction with a nod, his mind elsewhere and working quickly. As something exploded Daniel was already on his comm. He opened a channel to his ship, parked in the nearby spaceport and his group of troopers. He hadn't wanted to bring them with him but they had been adamant on following him everywhere...he suspected that they thought he needed as much help as he could get doing, well, anything.

They were more right than they knew. Drucc answered his comm instantly. "What's up Danny? You get lost again?" He asked playfully.

"Yes but that's not the point," Daniel was speaking quickly his mind on the situation at hand. "I've found my way into something big. The GA are moving on Nar Shaddaa. Trace this link now, bring the Jawa Van here as quickly as you can. There's going to be a huge number of children and other people fleeing the installation. I need you to cover them."

"Tracing now...got it. We'll be there in three." Drucc didn't ask any more questions. It wasn't like Daniel to be so crisp and that meant that something was seriously wrong. As he spoke, Daniel could hear the drives of his ship humming, it was already on the move.

"Do not harm the civilians. I won't be here when you get to the location but I trust you to handle it," Daniel clicked his comm closed and followed Vu'thari deeper into the structure, listening to what the man said as they moved. It was a disgusting situation and Daniel hoped that his men would be able to organize the fleeing people well enough that nobody would get hurt.

They didn't make it very far when a group of six sentries rounded a corner on a catwalk above them that ran between the two sides of this level. He didn't wait for them to do anything, any halted progress now would be dangerous later. He swung his wrist launcher up and closed his fist around the trigger. The rocket shot upward and slammed clear into the feet of the security forces above them.

Gory bits of dismembered flesh and durasteel rained down around them. "Grenade." He called sarcastically as they group pressed deeper into the facility. As they walked he reloaded his wrist rocket, hoping that he wouldn't have to use it again...it was always so gross.

@Critas
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@Mithias

 

[Ayasha Waya]

“This is Daniel. Daniel, this is Ayasha. He knows Dio...shall we?” Vu'thari kept the introductions between the padawan and the stranger brief, but she was relieved to hear that they shared a mutual friend. The woman quickly searched the emotions of the man within the Force and she felt no deception or ill intent. This was no time to weigh how much she could trust him and so, she would have to trust herself. “Welcome to the party, Daniel. Pleasure to meet you,” Ayasha flashed a wide smile as she grasped his shoulder in display of camaraderie.

As the trio made their way deeper into the labor camp, a sentry appeared around a corner and fired his weapon into the air. “Stop, or I will gun you all down!” he shouted in a threatening manner. Ayasha's scanned the surrounding area with her eyes as well as with her mind. He was alone and was clearly at a disadvantage. “All of us?” Vu'thari said with a hint of sass. The padawan stifled a laugh as she watched the twi'lek handle the situation with a couple of blaster bolts to the man's chest.

The group had not stopped moving, even during their brief encounter with their unexpected company. They entered the main structure where Vu'thari began to quickly explain how the slaves were kept in separate areas. The place they were now headed housed those of the notorious nature: political prisoners, revolutionaries as well as Hutts and Hutt allies operating against the backs of Imperial Hutta.

The trio had not made it very far in when suddenly a group of six sentries appeared on a catwalk above them. Without a hint of hesitation, Daniel reacted to the potential threat by launching a rocket straight at the gathering. Bits of flesh and shards of durasteel rained down upon the trio. Ayasha covered her head as she was showered with organic and fabricated material. “Grenade,” Daniel called sarcastically as the group continued pressing on further into the facility. Ayasha watched the man out of the corner of her eye as he reloaded the rocket on his wrist. She frowned at the idea of another episode of bodily fluids being sprayed across her face.

The woman's thoughts were soon interrupted as the trio rounded another corner and were met by a pair of guards at a reinforced door. The two men looked at one another with incredulous expressions as they fumbled for a weapon. Without hesitation, Ayasha pulled the blaster pistol from the holster on her thigh, leveled it with the agent on the right and laid several bolts into his chest. The man fell into a heap upon the floor as the raven haired woman made a swift approach toward the other guard. He carelessly dropped his blaster rifle as the padawan closed in on his personal space. She kicked his weapon away while lifting hers to rest against the side of his head. “Open the door or I'll put a bolt in your skull,” she said in tones that resembled a growl.

The man held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender, yet he shook his head, denying her request. There was no time for diplomacy and so Ayasha continued down the path of aggressive negotiations. Without a pause, she shoved the barrel of her blaster pistol into the man's thigh and fired. He yelped in pain while grabbing for his leg. “Have you reconsidered my request?” she snarled while shifting the weapon back to a spot at the side of his head. The agent's eyes narrowed as he twisted his neck and spit directly in Ayasha's face.

A swell of true, undefiled anger welled up within the woman's chest for the first time in memory. Her jaw clenched as she drew in a deep breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. “Open the door!” she shouted at the guard before drawing her arm back and striking him in the temple with the weapon in her hand. “AYASHA! What are you doing?!” the woman's conscience admonished. Suddenly she was brought back to center. The situation had bested her, even in spite of her gentle nature. The padawan used the back of her hand to wipe the spit from her cheek as she regained her composure.

The man rubbed the side of his head with a trembling hand while looking up at Ayasha from the floor. From the angle he sat, his eyes caught sight of the shiny metallic hilt of the lightsaber beneath her tunic. With wide eyes and a look of disbelief, he shifted his gaze back to the padawan's face. He stuttered and stammered, struggling to relay the words from his mind to his lips. “A...Jedi!” he exclaimed before drawing back and hurling another gob of mucus onto the raven haired woman.

Ayasha did not hesitate as she placed the blaster against the man's forehead and fired several times. His body immediately slumped over as the woman pulled from a pouch on her belt the keycard she had taken from the women's cell. She swiped it through the key reader, hoping that doing so would not set off a series of alarms or send an alert to those in authority. The door sprung open ahead of the trio and Ayasha lead them further into the depths of the facility.


@Mithias
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[Prax Dek]

Prax escorted the children to the edge of the encampment. He waved to them as a group of armored men appeared and started escorting them away and to safety. The men were dressed in the same colors and armor style as their mysterious addition to their efforts. At first Prax had been close to attacking the men as they appeared but due to their appearance he restrained himself. He reminded himself that not everyone in the galaxy was out for themselves. As he ensured that the children would be safe and there for their parents should they get out alive, he turned back to the camp.

Suddenly he realized that he was alone. He saw his trio of friends and associates enter a building and considered following them. He had almost resigned himself to heading in a different direction when he noticed a group of five guards enter the building behind his friends. They were moving with a fair amount of stealth and slid into the building. Prax had to change his plans then. He turned and started running towards the building, bringing his comm up to his mouth. “Vu’thari, there are five guards coming up behind you. They just entered the building.”

Just as Prax made it to the doorway, he noticed there were two more guards starting after the stream of women that were leaving their quarters. Prax knew Ayasha had just released those women and he would not allow them to be recaptured. Raising his R5R blaster rifle, Prax dropped to a firing stance and fired two shots at each figure. Luckily for him, the two guards were centered on the line of women retreating from the female’s quarters. It was apparent to Prax that they had hoped to ambush the women, their perverse sense of amusement worked in his favor. That had a sort of symmetry to Prax and he watched the two bodies fall.

As the guards died, the women caught sight of them and started to scream and run back towards their quarters. This was entirely the wrong direction and Prax was forced to run over there and redirect their path of retreat back out of the camp. Prax was reminded of herding small birds in the slave pens. His last master had kept the creatures to race them and trying to herd them and catch them for races had been an exercise in futility. Prax was finally able to get the column of women heading in the right direction and decided to escort them to the mysterious men on the outskirts that were assisting in extraction.

@Mithias
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[Vuthari]

Inside LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

It was a trio of death quickly moving through the hallways of the labor camp. As soon an Imperial Hutta guard turned the corner, a blaster bolt met them. Vu’thari and Daniel went through the passageways without hesitation, with Ayasha tightly behind them in the rear. The Jedi quickly tied the Mandalorian into their comlink channel as the trio moved deeper within. They were a few passageways in when Prax came over their comlink…

“Vu’thari, there are five guards coming up behind you. They just entered the building.”

Not wasting another minute, Vu’thari stopped in his tracks and turned around with Daniel and Ayasha. Readying themselves for those that would be turning the corner from behind them, the five sentries turned into their passageway unaware that the trio had stopped to wait on them—and ran into a hail of blaster fire. Turning back to their objective ahead, they came to a block of six cells ahead of them that seemed central to the complex. A pair of guards stood alert outside of the six chambers. The alarms were very loud within the complex, so their approach seemed to be masked for the moment from the pair. Looking over to Daniel, he counted down from three before the pair rolled into the main linking chamber. The pair of imperials drew on them as the blast door receded, but were not quick enough to the draw. A flurry of blaster bolts dropped the pair of guards before they could completely level their carbines.

Looking over to Daniel and Ayasha, he stated, “We need to open these cells and find out who the Empire chooses to bury in their prison system on Nar Shaddaa…”

With that, Vu’thari began quickly opening two of the six cells…

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OOC/Dice Thread

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

Daniel trusted Vu'thari to handle whatever was inside the first two cells. He seemed capable enough, as did his lady friend Ayasha.

Daniel walked gamely up to the release pad of his first door and slapped it. The door hissed open and a terrible smell wafted out from within. It seemed that the warden of the forced labour camp was a bit cagey about letting the high value prisoners out of their cells. Daniel peered in and didn't see anything at first, though he thought he heard rough breathing from the back. He wondered if it was a child and he popped off his helmet so not to scare the little guy--or girl.

"Come on! We're getting out of here!" he said happily, grinning into the darkness. He stretched out a hand into the dark. He was rewarded with a feral scream as something charged out from within and tackled him to the floor. Wild blond hair was everywhere and the being screamed in Mando'a.

"Daniel Robert Solus!" It was plain to see that it was a human woman. Daniel froze, he knew that voice. "How many times do I have to tell you not to take your kriffing helmet off in the middle of kriffing combat! You're so kriffing terrible at this! Thank you for getting me out but you should be at home! You're not cut out for combat!! Where's Archie, hunh? Don't tell me you brought him into this madness too?" Powerful waves of emotion rolled of him on one hand he was thrilled to see his sister again. She had been missing for many months, since before Daniel had decided to take a more active roll. He was so happy to see her that he grabbed her awkwardly, after they had pulled themselves up from the ground, into a massive hug.

Lyla Solus was a warrior of some reputation. Older than Daniel by five years, they had been raised together. She had exceeded at everything one thought as being traditionally mando, where Daniel had just wanted to play with his big sister. She had indulged him somewhat, but eventually her duties had called her away. She had come home from time to time, but they had slowly lost touch. When she had vanished on a mission and not returned, Daniel had grieved in silence. To have her alive and more or less well in front of him now was surreal.

"Lyla this is not the time! Archie's fine, he's with my men on the ship outside. Where you need to go. Drucc is there, he'll let you board." He handed her a blaster pistol and his knife and two of his grenades. She took them easily and looked focused. "Guide anyone you see out, ok? We don't want the other prisoners be hurt more than they already have."

"You've changed, Danny," she looked at him a moment before running off. She seemed to know where she was going. "I'm proud of you, but put your damn helmet back on!" Then she was gone, around a corner. They'd meet back up on the ship but for now, Daniel was as happy as could be. Grinning at his sister, so unchanged even by months in captivity, it warmed his heart. He placed his helmet back over his head and went to open the other door.

Around him Ayasha and Vuthari had their own cells to attend to.

 

[Ayasha Waya]

“We need to open these cells and find out who the Empire chooses to bury in their prison system on Nar Shaddaa...” Vu'thari instructed as he quickly began opening two of the six cells within the central cellblock. Ayasha watched as Daniel approached two of the other doors and opened them wide. “Come on! We're getting out of here!” he called into one of the darkened cages.

Suddenly a flurry of blond hair and arms came flailing toward the Mandalorian. The padawan's eyes grew wide as the pair shared a strange exchange, revealing that the prisoner was in fact, Daniel's sister. “What are the odds...” Ayasha thought to herself before eyeing the two remaining cells. She pulled the doors wide open and gestured to those inside to come out.

From the farthest one, a man with the appearance of a large rat slipped out. “What's goin' on?” he said in something akin to a hiss. “Why are you locked up here?” Ayasha demanded as she pointed her blaster pistol at the prisoner. His hands went up immediately as he looked down at her weapon and stuttered his answer. “I suppose my...business ventures were stepping on Imperial Hutta's toes...” he said with a chuckle that erupted into a coughing fit.

Ayasha raised a brow as she pushed the barrel of her weapon into the man's chest. “What kind of business?” she demanded in a gruff voice. “Geez lady, I had an entire spice empire and these kriffing bastards screwed it up for me,” he admitted with a hint of irritation in his voice. “Looks like you could use some yourself...” he added under his breath. The padawan stepped to the side of the drug lord and gave him a hard shove toward the entrance. “Get out of here,” she said before turning her attention to the second cell with the door hanging open.

Nobody had ventured out of the cage yet, and that caused concern within Ayasha's mind. She stepped in front of the door and squinted as she peered inside. Huddled in the corner were three men, cowering together. The young woman's brows furrowed in a mix of sadness and confusion. “Who are you?” she asked them gently. The trio looked at one another but would not answer the woman. “You are free to go...you just have to walk out...” she gestured toward the entrance to the central cellblock.

Suddenly one of the three men rose from his spot and rushed toward Ayasha. He covered her mouth and shoved her against the support beam of the cell across from his. “Shhh....” he whispered while his eyes wildly moved about the room. “They're looking for us...and they will find us...” he whispered before slowly removing his hand from the padawan's mouth. She suddenly caught a glimpse of an identification tag tucked just inside of his tattered shirt. He was a rebel from years before Ayasha had even known a thing about the Galactic Alliance or the Jedi. In fact, he was likely serving while she was yet a child.

It was clear that he and the others in his cell had been permanently affected by the battles they had faced. Ayasha's heart hurt for them, wondering if they would ever live something of a normal life. She stepped into the cell and gently motioned for the other two men to come out. “You can trust me, I'm a rebel too...” she said with pride in her words. The men shared a glance before rising to their feet and hurrying out of the little caged room. “Go that way and be free...” she motioned toward the entrance where the figure of the drug lord was disappearing into the faint light.

It was moments like these that brought Ayasha joy in what she had been called to do. Though their future was uncertain, the young woman was sure that she had left some positive footprint on their lives. Perhaps one day, they would think back to that very encounter and remember her face. The padawan would not soon forget theirs.


@Mithias
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[Vuthari]

Inside LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

Keying the pad, Vu’thari opened the first cell. Inside the darkened room was a white-haired female dressed, in what used be, a fine gown. She seemed to be regal in her bearing, despite her situation. She was already standing when the blast door receded. The Jedi looked at her and inquired softly, “Who are you? We need to leave…now.”

Nodding in understanding, the brown-eyed, older woman responded with an admirable dignity, “My name is Lady Lumia, I am a diplomat representing the B’omarr Order. Often the monks of this order have difficulty in negotiations with their appearance, so my services were needed. Alas, another story, for another time…”

Vu’thari nodded in silent agreement with her assessment. She pointed to the corridor leading out, “That way? I will wait for you down the corridor a bit…thank you, whoever you are.”

Not wasting anymore time, the lady trotted down the dim corridor, not wasting this opportunity for freedom.

With the second cell, the twi’lek quickly opened it, not knowing exactly what to expect. The Jedi sensed a presence within, but it was consumed by fear. As the blast door opened, a huddled figure in the corner tried to make himself even smaller when the door opened. Vu’thari said gently, “Do not fear. I have come to help you leave this place…come.”

Looking up with, the swarthy skinned human dared to hope and asked in a near whisper, “You have not come to torture me?”

A warm smile crossed Vu’thari’s face, “Far from it. Come on, we are leaving now.”

Slowly unfurling his legs, the man leaned against the wall as he came to his feet, quickly stretching his long limbs. Wearing a tattered tunic and a pair of soiled breeches, the tall human nodded to the twi’lek and volunteered, “I am Aleq. For years I covered stories in Imperial Hutta on the holonet—but I came to close to the truth and I was arrested…I pray this is not another sick form of torture…”

Not volunteering anymore, the man quickly ran out of his cell, not looking back. He ran as if he was afraid the Jedi would take away that window of freedom, so the man took the opportunity without another word. Looking back to see the Mandalorian opening another cell and Ayasha speaking with those she released, he gave Ayasha a curt nod and retreated out of the interior, following a bit behind the ones he released. Vu’thari quickly found himself traveling down the corridor alone.

As the Jedi “Master” rounded the next corner, a Sith in dark robes stood blocking his path to the T-intersection that led out. It looked as if the Sith just missed the escapees. Subtly, the Jedi began drawing in the Force, allowing it to flow thru him. Taking a quick glance behind him ensuring they were alone, he turned back to the threatening Sith. The large sith held his red-hued lightsaber in a two-handed grip. Vu’thari could feel the rage building in the man. He spat, “You must be one of the ones responsible for this mess…that I have to clean up! You will die for this inconvenience!”

With that, the Sith charged…fast. There was no time for his blaster. Vu’thari drew upon the Force that had been flowing through him as the Sith spoke. Suddenly, the flow of the river was redirected and reformed to a powerful kinetic blast. Both hands shot out at the charging Sith. The telekinetic force slammed into the chest of the Sith, snapping bones and causing the man to hurtle backwards at break-neck speed, slamming into the durasteel wall with a series of audible cracks that could be heard from the impact. A look of utter shock crossed the Sith’s face before he collapsed into a broken heap…and would not get up ever again. For good measure and to ensure an ulterior reason for his death was brought into the fold, Vu’thari cooked up a fragmentation grenade and placed it on the ground in front of the dead Sith. As the Jedi “Master” raced down the hallway, the grenade detonated. The corridors rocked from the explosion, but a fragmentation grenade would do nothing to the reinforced walls off the prison…except cause a brutal headache from the reverberating noise and shock wave.

As he rounded the next corner, the diplomat and the reporter stood next to each other, waiting on Vu’thari. Lady Lumia had acquired a blaster pistol and held it at the ready until the twi’lek came into sight.

The Jedi held his hands up and she lowered her weapon. It was apparent the reporter and the diplomat knew each other from the prison. They stood beside each other, not worried about the other. Vu’thari said, “When the others come out, we are leaving this place. Be ready…”

The camp was in utter chaos. The guards that were left were trying to organize, but between trying to contain prisoners and fight off those that found themselves armed, it was a fruitless effort. Vu’thari did not see Prax immediately, but he felt his padawan was close. The twi’lek just hoped Ayasha was right behind him…

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[Prax Dek]

DICE​

Prax had just handed off the column of women to the Mandalorians that were assisting with their extraction on the edge of the slaver encampment. He started running back into the camp when he heard a small voice from within the children's camp. He changed course and turned into the smaller camp and started looking for the source of the voice. He discovered a small girl about seven that had been separated from the group that Prax had led out earlier. Taking her by the hand he started to leave, and she yanked back at his hand. Looking down at her he noticed she was pointing to a black cloaked figure stalking in the direction of the slave pens.

Prax ducked back into the shadows with the little girl, he could feel the dark side of the Force as it positively oozed from this black cloaked figure. He had seen Sith many times in the past and he knew this was definitely one of them. Prax gently pushed the little girl behind some crates in the hut and pulled his two vibro knives from their sheathes at his waist. He ducked behind the side of the door and waited for the Sith to appear in the room. In the darkness, Prax was just another shadow. The padawan allowed his emotions to flow out of him, emptying his mind.

The Sith stepped through the doorway and Prax immediately reacted, activating his ambush. Prax had been crouching there and his first strike cut the Sith just behind the knee. Prax continued to rise, his second vibro blade rose and stabbed hard between the ribs of the Sith on the same side. Prax heard the shock and then resulting cough as the blade punctured the Sith’s lung. The cut behind the Sith’s knee drove the Sith to the ground, no longer able to support his body weight. Prax spun and rode the Sith to the floor, putting his weight on top of the man and holding him down as he choked to death on his own bodily fluids.

Prax held the Sith there for a few moments to ensure the man was dead. Prax had felt the Force leave the body of the Sith and had seen the light fade from his crimson tinted irises. Once sure the Sith was dead, he searched the body and discovered the Sith’s twin light sabers and his commlink. Prax slid all of this into his bandoleer and stood. He held out his hand to the little girl who had seen the entire exchange from her hiding position. Prax noticed the girl was crying but that she had made no sound. So young and already a veteran of the slave pens where crying brought punishment, swift and violent. Prax picked up the girl and started running towards the ex-filtration, he knew it was time to go.

//Exit Thread

@Mithias
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[Ayasha Waya]

Ayasha began to follow Vu'thari out of the central cell block when she was suddenly separated from the group. Alarms began to blare and various security blast doors fell across exits to primary corridors within the complex. The padawan slowly backed away from the durasteel wall ahead of her as her eyes darted around, looking for another way out. She pushed the natural tendency to panic aside, setting her mind to work out a solution instead of worrying about things that had yet to happen.

The raven haired woman took off down the hall to her left. She did not stop to look over anything along the way as she made a sprint into the unknown. “Where do you think you're going?” a sinister voice dripping with malice rang out from the shadows just then. It stopped Ayasha dead in her tracks as her hand immediately moved to her blaster pistol.

An eerie sensation crawled across the woman's skin as she slowly turned to look toward the source of the voice. Ayasha's golden eyes searched the shadows for a face but she saw nothing until a red blade came to life with a sickening hum. The woman drew her blaster pistol and leveled it, firing off several rounds at the armed Sith. He reacted swiftly, deflecting the bolts back in her direction. The woman attempted to dive out of the way but she was unsuccessful and two of the hot bolts tore across her left thigh. She clenched her jaw and pushed herself up from the floor.

Ayasha did not think that pulling out her own lightsaber to engage this being in melee would yield the desired outcome in the limited time she now had to get out of the complex. The padawan was always thinking on her feet so instead of reaching for her blade, she took a fragmentation grenade from the back of her belt. The Sith's eyes widened as the woman pressed a small button near the top of the device before throwing it directly at him. She took off in a sprint in the likely direction of the nearest exit. Just as the woman rounded a corner, a heavy blast shook the building all around her. Dust rained down on top of her head as she ducked and covered her eyes.

As the particles slowly settled, Ayasha rose up and noticed she was now standing at a wide doorway that exited into the center of the labor camp. In the clearing was a landing pad with a beautiful ship sitting upon it. Though the craft was clearly equipped with laser cannons, it appeared to be something built for pleasure rather than battle. The padawan creeped forward as her eyes scanned the surrounding area for any threat. Just then, she noticed an older man of husky build running from the craft, flanked on both sides by heavily armed guards. “The warden...” Ayasha thought to herself as the trio hurried into the building adjacent to where she was standing.

The raven haired woman was always formulating plans within her mind as situations unfolded before her eyes and this was a prime example. As the trio disappeared, she rushed toward the back of the ship where the ramp sat lowered, awaiting the return of the men. Ayasha placed her hand upon her blaster pistol as she scurried up the heavy piece of durasteel and slipped into the luxurious embrace of the craft. She had never seen anything quite like it, but this was not the time or the place to admire the craftsmanship. A quick look around gave the woman the piece of mind that the craft was completely unguarded...and free for the taking.

“I found another way out, Vu'thari. You'll probably see me in just a minute...look up....” the woman said to the Jedi Master via her comlink. Ayasha hurried to the cockpit and slipped into the plush pilot's chair. Her eyes grew wide as she scanned the switches and levers, each of which seemed linked to one of several indicator lights. Thankfully she had sat beside Vu'thari long enough to know the basics of flight. The woman flicked a switch and raised the ramp at the back of the craft before pushing a series of buttons that prepped the engines for flight. The craft began to hum as the engines came to life. The caramel skinned woman grinned as she placed her hands upon a pair of levers which she gently pushed up on the panel.

The Nightsweeper responded on command and slowly began to lift off of the ground. Ayasha cheered as she looked down from the viewport and watched the craft rise above the buildings. Just then, the padawan noticed the warden run out of the door he had slipped through with his body guards. He threw his fists into the air and screamed while scurrying around beneath the ship. The two men that had been at his side soon joined the man, though there was nothing they could do to help him. The warden fell to his knees and grabbed his hair as he cried out after the ship. The raven haired woman shrugged and smiled as she pushed up on the controls a little harder and the craft zipped off into the distance and out of sight.


//EXIT THREAD


@Mithias
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@Critas

 

[Vuthari]

Inside LC-47X Imperial Labor Camp
Corellia Sector
Nar Shaddaa

“I found another way out, Vu'thari. You'll probably see me in just a minute...look up....”

"Be safe....May the Force be with you."

There was no questioning the communique. The area was too dangerous to remain still and ponder the specifics. He trusted Ayasha implicitly, so for Vu’thari, it simply meant it was time to go. Looking over at the disheveled diplomat and the reporter, he commanded, “Keep your heads down and follow me…”

He saw the Mandalorian known as Daniel off to his right and shouted over to him above the cacophony of alarms, shouts, screams, blaster fire, etc. Vu’thari said quickly in Mand’oa, “Dio knows how to find me, keep in touch, Daniel…and thank you for your assistance this night. May the Force be with you…”

With a wink and a smirk, the Jedi Master sprinted across the open courtyard to a ragged opening in the walled courtyard that was made by some of the escapees. The reporter and diplomat moved swiftly behind him as they made their way into the vast streets of Nar Shaddaa and away from the labor camp.

Reaching out to Prax across the camp, the Jedi projected a quick thought…

***Time to leave***

He trusted the former assassin to make his way out without problems—he was in his element right now.

Looking above, he watched as an Imperial yacht made its way from a landing pad on the far side of the camp. The twi’lek couldn’t help but grin…

From village girl to starship thief—who would have thought...

/EXIT THREAD

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