Ask Nar Shaddaa Whispers in the Dark: The Final Eclipse

[The Gatekeeper]

Darmus Onn had broken stealth to run boldly, bravely, recklessly, ahead of his team to pursue the objective. He hadn't acounted for coordinated guards for an important room or a leap in any direction other than straight upward into the ceiling. Despite his blast vest the shot he took from the other had struck his heart and so, there in the hallway, Ranger Onn breathed his last.

While Bast approached the corpse Corran remained in a state of professional focus, returning fire and closing in on the remaining droid. This second shot also struck the droid and dispersed harmlessly against the nerveless metal plates as it moved around the corner. The Ranger's thrown grenade, on the other hand, worked far better.

A bang sounded to deafen them all and light flashed, the combination at close range disrupting the droid's sensors and stunning it while the Rangers were out of the blast's effective radius. While it still had motion tracking its coordination was now lacking even with whatever thing was guiding its actions. There would be a few moments where the machine was vulnerable.

The door behind it down the hall remained sealed shut and alarms continued to sound.

@TerranSteel @Eccles @Kestrel

 

[Corran Velt]

Corran chased after the deafening eruption of a concussion grenade. Every advantage must be pressed in urban combat. Hesitation meant death. He had no idea those words had already taken their toll. Switching his rifle in hand from stun to lethal mid-run, Lieutenant Velt would follow along the wall towards the droid's corner cover with intense breaths. Adrenaline ran high. Tactical training demanded a target be eliminated. Sirens wailed in the background. A warning to those who dwelled here and a threat to the Sector Ranger intruders.

Anticipating the combat droid had been disorientated by the concussion grenade, Corran would attempt to stack up on the corner were the droid had once shot from, cant at waist to provide maximum cover but a clearer view of fire, and unload two red bolts into the mechanical target. One at the sensor suite in the head and the other into the droid's arm holding the rifle. Even if he missed, a shot would still have a chance hitting the center of mass which was likely more armored. If a counter-attack followed, he would try to press against the corner wall and withdraw himself from visual sight of the Deneb bot. Bast's plea in his helmet's headset would temporarily fall on deaf ears as her partner focused entirely on destroying their enemy.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

Warm, sticky blood streaked Bast’s dark trousers. The palm of her right hand, in which she had carefully held her friend’s head, was slick. Deeper red lines formed across the creases of her hand like fate was playing the part of some twisted fortune teller. She rocked slowly in her crouch, trapped in the unbearable heat and nausea and smog. His eyes stared straight up, unfocused, and his lips had begun to part as the jaw relaxed. She wanted to close his eyes but she could not move. Only the monotonous sway. If she interrupted the pause in time it felt like she had created, he would be further gone. She would have to move on. She wasn’t ready to move on. If she moved, blinked, she might find that when the tears gathering in her eyes rolled away and everything became clear, he was dead.

The smoke cleared slowly, like a veil being lifted. The blood on her hands had begun to dry. Corran had not come. The sound of a shot hitting something at least suggested he was still alive. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see the harsh outline of a body. She forced herself to look at the chest wound. In the few moments before the tears came, she could see a charred mess of fabric fused to skin, burned tissue. It would have been an instant death. If she was supposed to find comfort in that, the comfort had yet to come. It was gruesome. In the panic to help him, she had taken her helmet off, but the bandana under it to absorb sweat was still neatly tied. Shakily, the lieutenant unknotted the piece of cloth and placed it over Darmus’s heart. Corran didn’t need to see the worst of it.

Then she waited. It had been Onn’s plan. They needed to carry on, but not yet.

@Mr. Teatime
@TerranSteel
@Eccles

 

[The Gatekeeper]

Corran moved to finish off the remaining droid, stunned by the concussion grenade. It fired blindly, relying entirely on motion sensors, at about the same time as he did. But it was blind and the shot only struck the duracrete corner he used as cover in a shower of smoke and burning wall. Ranger Velt's first shot struck true while the second missed entirely as the droid dove awkwardly off to the side.

It remained still on the ground, wisps of black smoke curling from the sparking hole in its head. An attempt at speech was garbled to nonsense as its photoreceptors dimmed and went out. There was no more sign of functionality in the machine. The only remaining sounds now were the alarms and, after a few moments, a distant and metallic thump that echoed through the halls.

The Rangers had reprieve for now. But the way to their goal was now shut and the break in stealth had clearly alerted those who guarded this facility. Their rush ahead had cost them the element of surprise and a comrade's life. Time was not on the side of Corran Velt and Bast Emblai. Deep in hostile territory they would need to act quickly to determine their next course of action.

There were far worse things than lethal machines in service to the Eclipse and far worse fates than a quick and decisive end.

@Kestrel @TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

Luck proved the best trait Corran had once again as the hostile blaster bolt slammed into the duracrete wall he hid behind. The shot came so close that fragment passed over his rifle sights. In a blink, the most crucial shot ran true and slammed into the war droid's head while the other sailed afar. The robot fizzled to the ground, staticky attempts at speech fighting against its fading digital light. Just to be safe, the blond ranger fired a double-tap shot to its head. Never knew how durable those things were.

"Contacts down," Lieutenant Velt reported stoically into his commlink, "Emblai, Onn, on me." He glanced over his shoulder from down the way to see if his comrades were following. They weren't. Down the hallway, Darmus was laying down and Bast was kneeling near him. Her helmet was off and the veteran ranger's head was in her lap. "Uh-Onn?" Corran stuttered. Without awaiting a reply, he ran back towards them at a sprint, then to a jog as he neared, then to slow steps dragged by trepidation, until coming to a complete halt. A bandana sat over the older ranger's chest. Darmus Onn was dead.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. Behind a crimson red helmet, grief drowned him. Corran Velt's mentor and friend was gone. Killed in a way he had evaded for so long. A drop ran down the blond man's cheek. Corran clenched his eyes tight to blink the water away. No, not here. Darmus would be scolding them for wasting time. If they took too long to mourn his corpse, they would join it.

Lieutenant Velt knelt down and reached into his deceased friend's jacket and pulled out three datasticks. He stuffed them into his pocket before rummaging around until finding the datapad Darmus had brought as well. That too went into Corran's inner coat pocket. There was one last thing to do. The blond ranger gently closed Ranger Onn's eyes shut. Rest easy, old-timer. You deserved better.

Rising to his feet, Corran's armored hand grabbed the back of Bast's arm and tugged upward; an invitation to stand. "Bast," he said with a voice soft, friendly, and heartfelt, "We gotta go." The boy she knew was there - not the professional, monotoned Sector Ranger. Hopefully that order and the constant alarm were enough to indicate their need to continue the mission.

Knowing the window for success, and survival, was closing, Lieutenant Velt bolted down the hallway and turned the corner towards the sealed door to the server and data center. With stealth now gone, their options changed. Without Darmus, hacking into the door seemed unlikely unless they had some luck on their side. Corran didn't want to rely on luck. "Cover me," he said to Bast as he pulled Welding Putty from his pack and began applying it in enough quantities to burn through the sealed door. "I'm going to make us an entry." With enough applied, the putty would burn a hole big enough for them to step through in a crouch.

Unless Bast suggested another and better alternative, this was the quickest and safest course of action to gain entry that Corran knew how to do.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

Finally, too late, Corran too had noticed the gruff voice of Darmus Onn no longer crackled through the comms. It was their job to keep the team alive, to watch eachother’s backs. They had both failed and, just as tragically, not even noticed. The lieutenant watched her partner’s posture shift as cold realization dawned. He slowed. Stopped.

Corran did what Bast could not. He closed Onn’s eyes and rummaged for the data sticks they needed to continue. The practicality seemed both comforting and cruel to the woman. There was no being frozen in indecision about how to proceed, but the man lying on the ground‘s purpose was no longer sentimental- it was utilitarian. Surely Darmus would not have minded, not that it mattered anymore. Carefully, Bast drew out her friend’s badge to show Corran she had already taken it. Strange how she carried two badges, but neither was her own. The man by Bast’s shoulder gently urged her to move on.

“We can’t. I can’t leave him like the rest.” she choked out the words, a half-hearted fight to stay. She knew they could not. Time did not stop for anything in the world, for love or grief. Somehow, despite the heaviness within her, Bast rose.

Letting herself slide away from emotion and pain, Bast nodded emptily, obediently following orders. Perhaps she didn’t feel ready, but she was capable.

@Mr. Teatime
@TerranSteel

 

[The Gatekeeper]

Corran's focus was wisely on the task at hand. Time was not the Rangers' friend, their going loud having certainly drawn attention. From what had yet to be revealed but it was safe to assume it was nothing good. The welding putty was a good plan but it would take many minutes to set up and mold enough to burn through the thick metal door. But the brute force approach was the quickest and safest in this instance and the only real option they seemed to have left.

Midway through the set up there came a sudden sensation, an abrupt pressure, as of the walls closing in and the cold of black space manifesting itself, the buzzing of flies and the echoes of bootfalls on durasteel. It was gone a moment later and replaced with rapidly approaching steps from down the hall with the crossway.

But perhaps more concerning to these ordinary Rangers, with no knowledge or skill in mystical things, was the distinct sensation that something of unknown kind was growing closer. A strange and alien force, like a shadow that wasn't quite right, from a direction they could not determine. Hopefully they'd thoroughly read the reports from the attack on Coruscant.

The Eclipse did not use only ordinary methods.

@TerranSteel @Kestrel

 

[Corran Velt]

Reports, documents, archives, files; these are the things that pre-occupied Corran Velt even since he was just a rookie ranger. While others preferred to shoot first and ask questions never, he had gained a well-earned reputation over the years for being methodical with paper-trails. Even to his own detriment. During the planning stages of this raid, he had poured over the reports of the so-called 'Eclipse.' Architect of the pyre of Sector Ranger Headquarters. A Sith who relied not on lightsabers or brute strength, but misdirection, phantoms, and possession. Much like his entire base on Nar Shaddaa. A Jedi had engaged a shade capable of sword combat. Chief Hudson himself had appeared as the Sith, entirely under his control. The Eclipse would not appear to them directly, most likely, but some other nightmare.

As the sounds of old haunts returned, the buzz of flies and the stomping of boots drawing ever nearer, Corran realized a nemesis of the Sector Rangers had returned. "Bast, we've got company. Whatever comes our way, it's not what it seems," the lieutenant warned his comrade as he methodically outlined the hopeful entryway with welding putty. He'd attempt to apply the substance with increased urgency, but not if it came at a cost of not breaching the door.

Once the appropriate amount of putty was in place, Corran would spark the substance and turn away immediately. Looking into the white light as it tore through the metal could blind. He had an encased helmet on with protective slits over the eyes, but he wasn't going to risk it. Not to mention, they had to hold out against whatever came their way until the door was forced open. If time permitted, Lieutenant Velt would bring his rifle to the shoulder and take cover along the hallway corner closest to the door, bracing his foot against the wall for leverage. Sith moved fast. Shades moved faster.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

Weeks before the mission, Bast had begun reading reports on the Eclipse, Sith attacks, bases, tactics. Naturally, she did so with every mission, but not to the same extent. She had been falling asleep with datapad in hand the days before she departed, memorizing landing and personnel codes. Still, wrote memorization was very different from practical experience. Strange phenomenon attributed to metal stress had been reported, but this was no mere mental stress. This was some sort of manipulation that changed reality. Why hadn’t Darmus been affected? Oh, Darmus.

The footsteps and overwhelming noice bore closer. “Don’t worry. I have your six, and I won’t shoot blindly. I’ve gotten better at mind games and I will not let the Eclipse take more than they already have.“ As if in order to support her point, she clicked the safety back on her pistol, but kept it raised as the man worked on breaching the door. The waiting game began.

@Mr. Teatime
@TerranSteel

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The first thing that came for the pair of remaining Rangers did not seem immediately mystical in nature. Instead, this time, the sound of falling footsteps was exactly that. It would take a little longer for the door to be breached, and in the meantime they needed to stay alive. And who knows what was hiding behind that door, on top of all that?

A trio of soldiers in black armour of a design the Rangers had seen before inside the Coruscant station moved into the crossway and then to the hallway that led to the Rangers. Two fired rifles down the hallway toward Bast, the closest, the last toward Corran while they moved to find cover at the start of the hallway, peeking around the corners. Once in cover only two were visible, the third full behind a wall.

Corran and Bast would need to keep from being pinned in a corner long enough to complete their objective and escape. They'd find these soldiers were very real and so were their weapons. Even so there was a strange feeling in the air like a heavy and invisible fog that steadily, slowly, increased.

@TerranSteel @Kestrel

 

[Corran Velt]

Almost as soon as sparks began to spew from the sealed door as the putty began its terrible work of turning metal into molten slag, Sith soldiers in their juggernaut-like armor came into view. For less than a blink, Corran thought these were yet again phantoms of his mind. Their leveling of blasters gave the bone-chilling instinct they were very real. The blond ranger was already darting away from the sparking doorway and would make it behind wall cover just as red bolts created their own sparks and carbon-scoring the once-pristine wall. Those troopers were real. Very real.

With the enemy down the hallway and the doorway not yet melted entirely through, that only left the survivor pair of Rangers one option: Fight. They only had to keep the Sith at bay long enough to then make it into the server room and from there their options might expand. Time just needed to be bought with blaster fire.

Lieutenant Velt would fall to one knee to make himself a smaller target then cant around the hallway corner he took cover behind. With two Sith troopers still visible, his sights would immediately train on the one most free of protection. Two quick squeezes of the trigger would send blue stun bolts down the corridor towards one of the Sith soldiers, hoping to down one and entice one of their comrades to drag them to safety. Knowing Sith, they were more likely to eat their wounded.

"Bast! I hope you've got something to turn the tide of this thing," Corran called out in their connected comm-link.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

Three figures emerged from the dusky haze. The woman didn’t flinch. She stood still, ready to dive for cover or pull the trigger. Like prey, she was frozen, and like predator, she was prepared to pounce. Observe first, act second. She could feel Corran’s presence behind her but the Lieutenant did not dare look away from the shadows. They lowered their blasters, angling them parallel to the ground.

The moment stretched until it broke, sharply, with the firing of a crimson bolt. Bast dove to the corner. Landing roughly, she attempted to pull herself behind cover. The figures were real. The true enemy had arrived unhurriedly to corner the silly little rangers who had dared break in.

The three soldiers in dark, glinting armor, cloaked by illusion, deadly, had them at arm’s reach. She needed to stall, evade the Sith’s grasp for a bit longer. In some ways, fights to the death were simple. There were no months of planning, waiting on a rooftop with a sniper rifle. The will to survive was suddenly overpowering and commanded the body. The Sith knew nothing of honor, but neither did the most base instincts of man. If it came to it, she would fight tooth and nail for time. It was Corran who had the data plague, and her job was only to protect her partner and the file. Any bolt to hit him would pass through her first. “Just keep at it. I can handle a few infantry.”

Heat emanated from the sparking, melting door. There was no telling how long it would take for the putty to create a suitable sized hole. Just as Corran ducked back behind the wall, Bast stuck the muzzle of her blaster out to fire at a chink between the closest armored figure’s breastplate and helmet. A hallway separated them from death, but only a door separated the galaxy from a the beginnings of freedom from the abuses of the force.

@Mr. Teatime
@TerranSteel

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The soldier fired on by Corran was struck during his move to cover, the first stunning him enough that the second dropped him immediately even through the black armour. The other two found cover and when Bast peeked out her target managed to avoid a direct hit, the bolt skimming his left arm. With much loud cursing they drew their sidearm and popped out to fire three shots back in her direction.

The second soldier fired shot after shot toward Velt and his cover to suppress him, barely more then the rifle and part of his helmet visible. Bolt moves could easily get him shot but it also left them open to another angle of attack.

Their goal was just before them, the reinforced door quickly being burned through. They would get the feeling that something was coming from a far distance, something that knew they were there. But for now they still had enough time to complete their mission. If they were brave they could escape with their lives and still get the data access they were after.

In approximately ten seconds the door breach would be complete.

@TerranSteel @Kestrel

 

[Corran Velt]

The black-clad trooper collapsed to the ground in stunned jitters as Corran's second shot landed squarely into the side of the scurrying soldier. Routine training on the blaster range wasn't just a recommendation in the manual after all. Unfortunately this wasn't a gallery with holo-bullseyes. The enemy got their own chance at target practice. Red streaks of death roared from the barrel of a blaster on the other end of the hallway from a well-concealed shooter. Lieutenant Velt would pull back as quickly as he could, both out of training and primal recoiling from danger, and hopefully the shots would fly wide or smack into the corner the wall he was hiding behind.

With fire being exchanged between the two sides, advancing or fancy moves was a risky venture. More likely to get riddled with holes than be a hero. Gripping rifle tightly in one hand, if Bast was still in fighting shape, Corran would raise the second of his three concussion grenades and gesture for his partner to see. "Fire on the contact who is suppressing me and I'll toss the grenade to disorient them. That should give us the time we need to break into the computer room," he'd say through their secure comms.

Unless she had a better solution, Corran would prime his grenade in sync with his partner and hurl it under-hand so that it would roll along the floor after landing and allow himself to remain behind cover except for a section of his helmet and his arm. A smaller profile than his upper half. From there, if the enemy was dazed, the server room might finally be opened to them.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

The hole in the door was growing larger now, emitting a foul-smelling steam. A cry from the other end of the corridor indicated Bast had at least wounded her target, even if he had only been grazed. Muscle wounds were not debilitating, but they might prevent the soldier from aiming properly or holding his blaster steady. Perhaps in a last-ditch effort to keep the Rangers from advancing, the uninjured soldier fired downrange, one bolt after another. While there was little accuracy in the attack, it was unrelenting. If it continued for much longer, she and Corran could be cornered, trapped, as the foreboding weight of the subterranean base bore down.

As always, her partner had a plan. The woman’s heart swelled with joy and pride. He had been a rookie on their first mission together. Now they were fighting side by side in what might be their last. She would have to but him a congratulatory drink afterwards or something of the like. Kriff, she was getting softer by the hour. It was true rangers rarely retired. When they got soft, they ended up in a casket. Darmus hadn’t been soft. He was so rough around the edges the newer folk were liable to cut themselves and still…

Guilt at thinking about something so trivial as drinks washed over Bast in a hot blush. As though sensing it, Corran spoke through the comm. She would fire and he would throw the grenade to stall for time. “Copy that. I’ll fire on three. One, two, three.”

She had lined up a shot at the partially exposed soldier and sent a bolt straight at is center of mass, then ducked for cover as the grenade was thrown.

@Mr. Teatime
@TerranSteel

 

[Corran Velt]

The quick screech of blaster fire screamed from Bast’s weapon towards the Sith troopers down on the other end of the hallway. As promised, Corran threw his concussion grenade down the hallway with only a blink’s hesitation. The metal cylinder tumbled and rolled across the floor before bursting into a cacophony of light and sound. A scattered, frizzled cry of annoyance meant someone down on the other end he’d been disoriented. “Move!” Corran yelled. The window for their withdrawal was short and closing with every breath.

Starship welding puddy had exhausted itself melting through the durasteel doors with scorching intensity. A section from near the floor to just above the halfway point of the entryway had been destroyed and looked like a jagged cave entrance with faintly glowing edges. Practically crouching to his knees and bending over at the waist completely, Lieutenant Velt barely wedged through the passage. That didn’t stop a section of his shoulder armor glancing a jagged edge and hissing with heat. “Ah!” He reactively hissed from the sudden heat.

Once inside, the male ranger spun around and covered his partner as she climbed through the entryway herself. If she got hit, he’d have to drag her through anyhow. Hopefully the troopers were still too stunned and suppressed to react accurately just yet. If Bast made it through, Corran would point to the door, “Watch for trouble.” Not that he intended for them to stay long. Turning hard on his heel, Lieutenant Velt was greeted by a whole room full of technology equipment. Consoles, wall-sized data storage units, and various other boxes and shapes with blinking lights of red and green. It would’ve taken a slicer expert to truly comb through all this. But they had lost theirs. And Corran was going to get even for it.

Practically sliding to a stop to the most important looking terminal, the blond ranger set his blaster rifle down on the counter and scanned for the most obvious entry point. Blue eyes zipped back and forth like TIE fighters in a dog fight. There. An access port. With heavy breath, Corran pulled one of the datasticks from his suit pocket. “One last goodbye present from Darmus.” The datastick was plunged into the console like a vibroblade. The virus would be in. At first nothing seemed to be happening. Then the display flickered once. Then again. Then it began to warp and shift as the data-plague began its evil work.

Behind the technical outer workings, the carefully constructed farewell present from Darmus Onn began worming its way through the base, corrupting and making vulnerable its systems, shutting down defenses, making doors go haywire, and following the digital trail to whatever the Eclipse’s files connected to. Some of his personal communications would even be swiped onto Corran’s datapad.

“We gotta find a way out of here,” the blond ranger called to his partner. Out in the hallway the lights flickered on and off in a panic. As if the base was dying. “Just not out that way,” Corran said with the point of his rifle to the melted doorway.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

A loud, metallic sounding explosion temporarily deafened Bast, despite her best effort to cover her ears. She must have bitten her tongue taking cover, or perhaps simply from the stress of it all, as she tasted blood. The Lieutenant needed no instruction to move forward. She followed her partner as closely as she could without tripping over him, still facing down the hallway, her blaster pointed forward. It seemed a long time before she was close enough to feel the searing heat of the melted door. A muffled exclamation of pain came from behind her.

”You alright?” She asked over the comm, more out of habit than actual concern. Corran could likely be hit by a modestly sized starship and still be okay. He had spent almost as long as she had in the hospital when the Sith lady plunged her dagger into his flesh and come out stronger. His resilience never ceased to astonish her. Although the check in was unnecessary, it provided a line of communication Bast was holding onto with all her strength. If he were there, she wouldn’t have to think about Darmus yet.

Crouching, the Corellian stepped through the ragged-toothed maw of the control room. Once inside, she knelt to brace her arm, the muzzle of her blaster now pointing out of the make-shift entrance. Frantic steps and brief rummaging sounded from behind her, but Bast’s focus remained forward— watching, waiting, finger twitching just above the trigger. She swallowed. Nothing she could see. Still, giddy paranoia prevented the woman from even glancing away. The hazel eyes resembled those of both predator and prey: intent, ready to kill, and too afraid to look away lest she be the one killed. Even as she heard the stick being inserted rather violently into the console, Corran’s words seemed distant. Goodbye present. His goodbye to the present. She swallowed. Stressed minds made odd connections. He hadn't meant it. She needed to clear her head.

The lights began flickering spasmodically, almost hypnotizing. A sense of dread so heavy Bast could not move settled on her chest.

“We gotta find a way out of here.“

She stood, eyes fixed on the melted door. “I’ll start searching. Maybe a maintenance shaft? Surely we can’t be trapped.“ Adrenaline had begun to wear off and the confidence she had intended to be behind her assessment was slightly undermined by the shaking of her voice. She could not die on this godforsaken planet. She couldn’t leave her partner alone. But would she? Very few who died were ready to do so, but that didn’t stop death. And death was so close it could have been breathing down the back of her neck.

@TerranSteel
@Mr. Teatime

 

[Corran Velt]

Various servers and all assortment of lights in the room the two Sector Rangers found themselves began to flicker, power down and roar back on in increasingly erratic patterns. Even outside the partially melted door, the base's warning sirens slowed down to a total malaise, then ramping up as if to make up the lost time. Shutting off and then a shrill buzzing. Giant metal doors could be heard slamming shut with incredible force. The Ranger Virus was tearing the hidden base apart and growing in its tantrums.

Bringing his rifle back to the shoulder, Corran began scouring the room for an exit of any kind. The constant flickering of the ceiling lights out of sync was warfare on his vision, though his helmet helped adjust. A duct on the upper part of the wall. Too small. A shaft there? No. Just a trick of the shadows and flashing vision. “Find anything?” He asked over comms to Bast. So far only false hope for him.

Lieutenant Velt glanced back towards the half-melted door. “We could go…” he started. Blaster fire cut him off, slamming into the entryway in flurried bursts. One stray bolt actually passed through the molten gap in the frame and pinged off the wall into the ceiling, causing sparks to twinkle down. Corran instinctively raised his armored forearm to shield himself but it proved unnecessary. “….anywhere but that way.” The Sith Troopers had recovered from their disorientation and virus rampaging the base. Their sporadic firing proved they were closing in.

The search became more concerted. Frantic. They had come too far to be gunned down in a metal box so deep under the corrupting surface of Nar Shaddaa. Making one final pass, the blond ranger stopped in front of a section of wall between two server racks he was certain he passed before. There was no exit then. Only the way they came. It made sense. Why have multiple entryways to such a vulnerable location? Without any warning, Bast would hear the uncharacteristic frustration of her partner venting through both in his helmet and their comm-link. “DAMN IT!” He kicked his armored boot against the wall in primal anger.

Suddenly, a small hiss and a buff of dust responded from the wall between the two server racks. Corran took a step back and raised his weapon. The wall opened up with metal plates sliding away diagonally. What lay beyond was no cleanly lit hallway or extension to yet another Sith bunker. No, it was older. Much older.

Vines, both young and decayed, clung to what looked like tan stone but was actually just ancient, forgotten metal. Water or some sort of liquid dripped from somewhere above. Corran’s kick hadn’t opened the door. The dataplague had. Did the Sith even know this was here?

Not one to look a gift bantha in the snout, Lieutenant Velt composed himself in the blink of an eye and raised his weapon to face down the dank tunnel. “Emblai! We found our ticket out of here. Let’s move!” He waited for her by the entrance knowing that it could close up any moment as the data plague tore asunder system after system in the facility. No matter where this went, it was better than here.

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime

 

[Bast Emblai]

At first Bast didn’t respond. “I…” The flickering lights and irregular alarms made it nearly impossible for the woman to concentrate enough to string together a response, especially as she still felt paralyzed and sluggish. What had he said? Find anything? She had to find something. Look. What was she looking for? Her head hurt.

A screaming bolt and flying sparks shook Bast out of her stupor. Escape. Footsteps closed in. The Lieutenant ground her teeth and forced herself to stand once more. Beginning slowly and methodically in an attempt to clear her head, the woman‘s search became increasingly haphazard. How much time had she wasted? “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.“ She floundered for words. Hopefully he wouldn’t tell command. “It’s this place, Velt. I tried but—“

”DAMN IT!”

Bast spun around to face her partner. He had been in stabbed, stuck on a dead ship, been hurt so badly he had not reached out for months, but she had rarely, if ever, heard him speak with unbridled anger. The force with which he kicked the wall made Bast hope his boots had Durasteel tips. If not, she might be holding up a man with several broken toes.

Broken toes, however, were the least of their concerns. A cloud of disturbed dust rose as something grated within the wall. Immediately, Bast looked up to check if whatever has happened had compromised the structural soundness of the base. While they might survive a Sith attack, tonnes of duracrete crumbling above them had decidedly lower rates of survival. Oddly enough, no cracks appeared nor did any dust sift down.

The thing had come open. A small slab of wall— small, but not too small— had slid away. Baffled at the fact that Corran’s kick had seemingly caused the passage to appear, Bast nonetheless regained her composure. Nodding at Corran‘s orders, she jumped in.

The floor, feeling like stone of some sort, was rough, eroded away in some areas by water. The place echoed but there was little airflow, indicating the walls were close. Bast had an uncomfortable image of Bantha being squeezed into a chute to be caught as she squeezed into the tunnel. Still, they had better be quick as the jaws into the passage could snap shut at any time. “Copy that.” Despite the dire circumstances, Bast could not hold back a smile. They had a way out yet.

@TerranSteel
@Mr. Teatime

 

[Corran Velt]

As both rangers entered into the forgotten passageway, a creaking and whining of old machines began to tick and sputter. Nothing happened yet but Corran knew that the Sith troopers would eventually breach the door into the server room - or worse, whatever created that pressure - and chase them into this discovered realm. With obedient rifle leading the way, the blond lieutenant advanced through dangling vines and hanging wires. Only the clarity provided by his night-vision allowed him to step over a protruding pipe. Still machines and gears turned somewhere. Then the “doorway” the pair had entered into grinded shut. Their diagonal form interconnecting with a hiss. Now the hallway was nearly pitch black.

The digital and literal chaos behind them faded behind the venerable barrier. Compared to the engagement before, the pair of officers suddenly felt very much alone. Yet still machines worked their cycles; heard but not seen. “I guess the only way is forward,” Lieutenant Velt said in the comms, gesturing with his weapon to the path before them. The hallway didn’t offer up any alternate paths. Just straight ahead with some slight deviations caused by rust and time. Corran’s breathing became less harried with each step. Adrenaline drained from his veins. Even his armored shoulders visibly seemed less tense. They had escaped from the Sith clutches - at least for now.

Vines, moss, and fungal shrooms of every kind intermingled with the lifeless machinery as Corran advanced deeper down the path. Nature and industry coexisted here. But how? Ahead there was a rushing sound and the dark hallway opened up a little more. The blond ranger actually turned back to look at Bast and said aloud, “Is that…? It can’t be.”

Childlike energy, as so common with him, gripped Corran and he hustled forward at a fierce jog. He would have sprinted but armor and the terrain made that less than ideal. Heavy boots stomped against dusty floor until they came to a sudden halt. The hallway had ended and a great circular room yawned before them. Scores of hallways or tunnels just like this one emptied into the circular room. Some were sealed off by blast doors. Others merely sat empty. But one poured forth. Gushing immense gallons of… “Water!” Corran exclaimed.

The clear blue liquid dumped from an upper tunnel onto a pool below, carved out from the metal by years or even decades of erosion. Plant life of all kinds had seeded here and formed a private garden deep within the bowels of Nar Shaddaa. Bioluminescent mushrooms provided light where previously there was none. An oasis in the darkness. Corran let his rifle hang loosely in one hand and carefully removed his battle-worn helmet. Mist tickled his face. “Bast, can you believe this?” He said quietly, turning to look at her.

Suddenly the hallway they had taken shuddered. The ticking of machines and cogs had finally summoned their task. The two walls on either side of their path began to close. Slowly, but determined. Ah, so that’s how it remained undiscovered. The walls closed together to form a barrier of stone, metal, and vine. Few sensors could penetrate that. With little urgency, Lieutenant Velt stepped off the edge of the hallway onto a moss-covered step below. Shouldering his blaster, he extended a hand to his partner. “I think it’s safe.”

@Kestrel @Mr. Teatime