The ship in orbit shattered like glass as it broke on two, shards already falling down planetward. That was before the massive hulk of a ship was pulled into the gravity well. The frame glowed a soft orange as it hit terminal velocity, hurtling down towards the ISC military below. The smoke cloud from the impact was large and fierce, as many smaller explosions rocked the hulk by whatever it crushed and any internal sources that had not erupted already. Shards of the craft flew through the air and sliced through whatever it could touch, buildings, droids, and biologicals alike. Those injured and seriously maimed would not be an uncommon sight.
That crash was rather useful, as it helped disguise the entry of several escape pods from the crashing ship. Onboard one was Caduceus Ramage, now dressed in a plain grey jumpsuit, and a heavily damaged M-3P0 beside him. The arachnid lost one of his upper arms, two eyes, and a large portion of one of his mandibles. Yet it seemed his determination was not to die with his ship. Ramage would survive on, his indomitable spirit would fight tooth an nail to return to the Sith Empire he knew and loved. He knew he was going to be punished for his actions, or more his inaction, due to that blasted turbolaser that annihilated his communication array. Let's just hope that he could get enough from what's left of Aurelian to fund his travels home...
...that droid was worth more than what he was offered, even in its damaged condition, but Ramage knew it would only slow him down and he needed the money. He moved his free hand over and checked the bandage on the stump of one of his arms, the bleeding had stopped but it probably would be good to get medical attention soon. Ramage did not care about getting a doctor here through, as the Sith Empire's doctors were certainly of a higher caliber. He flexed the mirror arm of what he lost as his multiple eyes stared down at it. He then turned to the stump. He could feel the same motion mirrored, the nerves still firing and sending the signals that motion was there to his brain. Yet he knew that limb was gone.
The insectoid managed to use his wounds to his advantage, blending into the crowd of the wounded and injured. His species was usually never seen with the Sith, though to be honest they were a rare sight in the galaxy to begin with, so none would suspect he was anything but a victim. He waddled his way into a bar, the bleeding having long-sense stopped and now he just awaited someone daring enough to take him away. He sat down in a booth in the back, settled off in a shadowed corner, as he looked as if he was awaiting someone to work.
@SlagathorTheUnknown
