Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Black Sheep (Always Accepting New Players)

Kayn Balzroth, Ethan Malek, Max Pallas, Zara Yaren
Naboo wedding villa, where things are getting sticky. Literally.

Max heard a disturbance from the bar area. Kayn was there, bent over double, while Zara and Malek bent over him solicitously. Durham shot her an anxious look. She cleared her throat.

"As I said earlier, sir, there is no santris root in this dish, but if you or your colleague have any further concerns, please come down to the kitchen," she said, pitching her voice up. "But don't eat any of it," she added in an undertone. Durham looked around as a plump naval officer slipped out of his seat to the floor.

"I'm guessing this is deliberate," he said.

"Yup. Find your way to the kitchen. I think we can get out the back. But Flagg will have to figure out where the hell everyone else went. Let me go see what they're up to." She nodded and went over to her colleagues, who were creating some sort of ruckus, leaving Durham to report back to their commander. Kayn was throwing up quarts of green slime, while the remaining guests around him recoiled in disgust. She looked to the others for an explanation.

Ethan’s eyes wandered restlessly through the main hall while still helping Kayn to stand upright. With the lockdown in place their original plan had failed, Kayn wasn´t a high ranking imperial VIP so getting an exception to bring him out of the building was no option either. Thinking about a solution, his clothes were soaked more and more with the foam coming out of his squadmate’s mouth. Ignoring his growing disgust, he noticed several of his squadmates heading towards the kitchen, unsure what they sought there. Ethan knew that he needed to get Kayn out of sight and find a place to think and talk clearly with the others. "Looks like this is getting worse," he said with a nod towards Kayn´s apparent condition. "If we can´t get him out, he will suffocate." For a brief moment he exchanged a look with Kayn to assure him that his next suggestion was part of the ploy. Pulling out his commlink, he sent a message to the kitchen, he wasn't sure who was down there at the moment, but felt it was better to stay in the role and act like a normal waiter would."We have a dying entertainer up here, his throat is blocked and he will suffocate. We can´t get him treated here, so please prepare a clean table and a set of clean knives, for I need to perform a trachea cut."

Kayn momentarily gagged for real at Ethan's last words. Tracheotomy?! Who the frack said anything about a tracheotomy? I suppose he thinks that's funny. He spat to clear his throat again, and as he was dragged to the kitchen he mumbled, "Vet, your winging-it privileges are hereby revoked."

"What privileges?" Ethan muttered back at Kayn as he they made their way towards the kitchen. More loudly he asked the others around him, "Do we have any Devaronian blood in the kitchen? If I make the cut he will likely lose quite a bit of his. If not we might have to look through the ingredients there if we can created a substitute."

Max looked from Malek to Kayn in disbelief. She glanced at Zara, but her wingmate (well, technically not, but Z would always be her wing) looked a bit glassy-eyed, and smelled of...alcohol? Oh, hells, no, had she been drinking in the middle of a mission? Max cleared her throat.

"Let's get him on to the lift and get him downstairs," she said. "We can call for an ambulance from there."

Ethan looked a bit puzzled at Max's reaction to his words. Calling an ambulance? But they wouldn't be able to get through the lockdown, at least not for a nonhuman entertainer . Or was she just trying to find an excuse to accompany them downstairs? So he gave her a short nod, gesturing her to follow him and Kayn to the elevator. As they entered it, the Eriaduan helped Kayn lean himself against the wall to help him stand, before stepping closer to Max and quietly told her about their plan. "He isn't actually sick. We had hoped to use this as a trick to get out of the building but now with the lockdown we had to change our plans, maybe there is something in the kitchen we could use."

“There’s a loading dock in the back. I told Wolf, thought she’d passed it along. From there, we can call in the Valkyria for a pickup or something, but we have to take out a few Deathtroopers first. I’ve got a plan for them.” She looked at Kayn. “Will you be okay? I may need you to boost a signal for me.”

Kayn grinned through the last of the green-tinged foam dribbling into his goatee. He desperately wanted to wipe the stuff off, but better to continue the charade a little longer in case they ran into more Imps.

"Sure, I can boost a signal. My implanted transmitters are comparable to a handheld commlink, so don't expect me to be a full-scale commercial communications tower."

Max nodded. "It will be enough." The lift deposited them on the ground floor and she moved out in to the kitchen area, looking around. She grinned as she spotted her faithful astromech, right where she'd told him to wait for her. "Okay, Digs, I have a job for you."

TAG: @zark, @Sarge221, @Bardan_Jusik, Anyone

 

Kardon Durham
Sane People Section, Naboo

Save for the initial...unpleasantness that had occurred before the mission began - a few of their members deciding to present a last-minute plan that offered a million and one complications and greatly conflicting with the one that they were all focused and prepared for before it was then promptly shot down as was rightly done -, the actual infiltration, Kardon found, was mercifully simple. The invitation and paperwork he was supplied with passed through security with no problem and the uniform, other than still fitting well with the on-the-spot modifications, had offered spaces that he could hide his prescribed number of bombs without any of them noticeably sticking out.

Which meant all that he had to do upon stepping into the reception area was survey the parallel world of Imperial elite that was blissfully closed off from the rest of the galaxy. Even with his own psychological problems and repressed emotions, the Alderaanian survivor felt the odd strangeness of the fancy villa. Save for the stormtroopers and the other armed personnel - complete with the heavily armed and armored walkers that had been left outside -, the party inside was...well...a party. A mix of uniforms with high decorations, fancifully-dressed guests and attendants, the kitchen staff that possessed their own uniformity with their designated work dress, and so forth. To top it all off, there were the glittering decorations, the stage for entertainment, the dining table with its buffet, and so on. Hovering all above that was the buzz of casual conversation. Entirely normal.

Even with his foray into the Imperial ranks, this was not the kind of glimpse that Kardon had back during his time at the Academy. There was ceremony, sure, but the entrance ceremony or his stay on the pair of Destroyers during his flight training offered nothing like this. Given his time later on in the resistance cells and, afterwards, his postings aboard whatever starship or base the Rebellion managed to scrape up or had donated to the cause, this was all...unreal if he had to admit.

It did cross his mind right then. The thought of what other ceremonies like this must've been going on, with Imperials unknowing or uncaring of how a world like Alderaan and its billions were blasted into their very own asteroid field. A normal person, he supposed, would've felt outrage. Offence. Hatred. But he...

He felt nothing. His indifference did make him wonder why he even had that thought in the first place. An unconscious attempt to make himself feel something? A part of his mind recognizing that it was a normal and, most importantly, human thing to think and feel and, thus, there was an attempt to cajole a shred of what should've been completely natural?

If that was the case, it didn't seem to be working, and he didn't feel anything about that either.

"You're with me."

Flagg. It was the only person that Durham had managed to keep track of. Of the others, such as Lou, Kardon couldn't see them in the immediate vicinity and with the mass of bodies and many of them in uniforms, it was going to be a wasted effort to try and find them - at least the human crew. Knowing it was better to keep quiet, Kardon angled his head in confirmation to show that he heard before following the Commander.

They didn't go too far before Flagg was fishing for what was obviously one of the detonators. Kardon took it as his queue to hang back and casually scan the reception area. Like Flagg, he also happened to catch Vixen, and recognized the opportunity that Flagg had clearly seen to set a detonator. When the first detonator was set and Flagg stepped aside, Kardon caught his eye and made a slight shake of his head. No one had noticed. When the Commander began to move, Kardon did as well - right before the former bumped into a serving droid.

"You better take one too," Flagg advised which Kardon complied, taking a drink just as he did.

If there was one thing that Kardon felt, it was that he actually had a preference to hit the dining tables rather than the glass that he took. His heightened metabolism always gave him such troubling cravings, and even this deep in a mission he could still find it in him to crave and wish to satisfy it.

However, the droid remained, forcing Flagg to question it, and that in itself brought a brand new problem when the Commander pulled out his datapad and checked something that Kardon couldn't see, having taken this as a moment where he should be on watch to make sure no attention was being attracted with a disguised Imperial conversing with a droid.

“Eight in trouble?”

Eight. Wasn't that...? Kardon couldn't remember. Too little time had gone by with his joining and the start of this mission for him to know everyone in this squadron. He may not even know the names of as many as half the members, nonetheless which callsign belonged to whom.

The pilot actually did feel something there too. Thinking of this issue now, and the attempts of others in their party to create some other plan to undermine this one, it was all...slightly annoying. These interferences.

The annoyance was there and then gone when Kardon leaned back against a column and the thought came that a well-placed explosive here not too far from Flagg's initial one could work quite well here. While taking a sip from the glass that he had taken, his one hand disappeared beneath his uniform, seized one of the detonators, and nonchalantly reached around the column behind him and affixing it to an out of the way spot.

“Well, tell her to hurry.” Kardon glanced over at that, just in time to meet Flagg's gaze and his order of, "We need to finish up and get out of here...fast."

The Alderaanian nodded and put a bit of emphasis when he tapped his nose with a single finger, silently signalling that he had placed one of his own detonators down. His time in one of the local Alderaanian cells gave him some training in the art of subtlety at least, and it seemed Flagg understood before the Commander moved on.

He started off with four bombs, and had only one planted. With the need to get this done in a much more timely manner than anticipated, Kardon searched for another spot while Flagg temporarily split off to find another. Sadly, with the thought that he probably shouldn't stray too far - mindful of Flagg's order to stick close -, Kardon relented in setting another bomb on yet another column. Aware that Flagg had been doing the same, the pilot hoped that the following collapse and debris of so many of the pillars would make up for the rather little placement of the bombs.

It was at that moment that what he assumed was his neglected conscious tried to make another attempt at humanization. With the thought of the destruction that they wanted to achieve, Kardon stared out at the populated reception area. Focusing on where he knew his and Flagg's bombs were, he tried to imagine what would come next: when the bombs would detonate, killing the individuals that were too close in the initial blast zones before shrapnel and debris would seriously wound or ill others. He tried to create the screams in his head, of the shock and horror that would be felt, thought he made a rather successful attempt...

And again he felt nothing in response. All he thought was that people would die and that was it. That was natural to him, not any of the moral consequences that others may worry about. When he did try to think about said consequences, only one thought came: it was a waste of time to think about it simply because he couldn't emphasize with it.

This inevitably made him wonder why he was even trying in the first place. The clear evidence of his lack of sympathy aside, Kardon thought he was self-aware enough to figure this out and found that that was in fact true. He was a pilot. His raids on Imperial targets, destroying transport ships or damaging critical infrastructure, enemy fighters - there was a certain detachment to it. In his targeting sights, in his kills, all he saw were machines and objects. Now that he was out of the cockpit, in a populated environment, where he could see people and faces, he was trying to find an attachment or a hint of moral turbulence. True, he was in a rebel cell before, but he had never taken part in a mission like this, to such a degree of the damage that was expected. It was a vastly different setting than in a cramped cockpit so it was only natural that he would be examining it and sorting his thoughts and feelings about it.

....But there was nothing. None of those thoughts and feelings. No pause or hesitation. No reluctance at all. He had bombs to place. People that would be killed by the dozens - the faces he saw soon to be vaporized or cratered or whatever horrible disfigurement that would afflict them or their bodies when the bombs went off. And that was it.

His self-awareness had him recognizing that, maybe, imagining it may not be enough. Maybe he needed to see it with his own eyes. Witness the act and the aftermath. Maybe then he would feel something.

But, deep down, Kardon doubted it.

Afterall, whenever he thought of Alderaan, he felt nothing for his home planet either. Not since its destruction.

Flagg slinked back, putting an end to any of this bothersome self-reflection. "Everyone is having a good time," Kardon voiced. "We should too."

A double meaning. One to confirm the second placement of his bomb, the other a suggestion that they should split off and find more appropriate locations to scatter the rest of their ordnance. Flagg breaking off he took as an answer, leading Kardon to go in the opposite direction.

In the process, Kardon did eventually find two more of his squadmates, but only because they were so easy to spot: the Devaronian and the Twi'lek he remembered nearly bumping into back on the Intrepid. Other than being non-humans, they were the apparent entertainment. Save for those two though, Kardon still couldn't locate the others. At least none that he could match to the limited faces he remembered.

He found a different location for his third bomb. One of the seating tables. With that glass still in hand - more than half full still, as he had only taken once sip - Kardon sat down. He took a sip, taking his time, making look as if he was just taking a break to relax and enjoy some peace while his hand dipped beneath the table cloth and affixed the third detonator. Other than being more spread out from his other bombs, the table would provide some good shrapnel when it split apart.

Trying to hold his facade and place the bomb, Kardon had ignored the buzzing of his datapad but after he set the detonator and it buzzed again, he found he couldn't ignore it. Thinking that it would just help enforce the image of an officer needing time to himself for his own matters, Kardon casually pulled out his datapad and looked it over. The first message, he saw, was an oddity. Some transmissions sent through the Sheep channel. Irrelevant as far as he could tell. The others, on the other hand...

"Standby..."

That was relevant. Following the order, Kardon set his datapad flat on the table while leaning back on his chair and slowly swiveling his head around, taking in the sights. Just an Imp officer, enjoying some peace from the more active parts of the reception. Completely natural....

Another buzz. Without looking, Kardon took hold of his datapad with his free hand, waited, and then finally turned to see the latest message.

LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN

.....Well then.

After reading the announcement - a security alert, on their frequency? -, Kardon dipped his datapad back into his uniform and pushed himself up from his seat. Forcing his footsteps to remain unhurried, Kardon crossed through the main reception area, dropping his now empty glass on a passing serving droid that wasn't either of theirs. Best option, he decided, was to find Flagg. Couldn't send messages to each other, especially not when the security for this place was apparently using it. He had to get to the Commander, obtain orders on the best way to proceed.

Thankfully, he was able to find him looking down at his datapad, no doubt going over the same message as he had just been. Approaching him, Kardon tapped his arm - and had to possess the courtesy to appear apologetic when Flagg jumped. "I got it too. Imps are transmitting on our frequency for some reason." He shrugged. "At least we know things are going to hell."

"Find Max, I have her working on a way out, see what she's come up with and let's get the frelll out of here."

Max. At least that name and face he knew. Silently nodding to Flagg, Kardon broke away, trying to think of where their squadmate would be. Not the entertainment, he knew that much. She wasn't disguised as an officer like him either. Nor was she Vixen, the only other female he knew well enough to recognize. Was she...they had people disguised as kitchen staff, right. If he looked, he was sure he'd be able to recognize her if that was indeed what her disguise was.

His memory, fortunately, was on point at that, finding her close to the doorway of the ballroom. He happened to be passing the buffet table and, thinking on his feet, he picked up a plate of food - and set his last detonator beneath the table - before continuing on, finally approaching her and extending the plate with an inquiry. "Excuse me, miss, can you tell me if there is any santris root in this dish?"

He witnessed her about to reply until she paused, doing a double take. Clearly she recognized him. “No, sir,” she said loudly, “we saw the list of ingredients, and santris root is not a component.”

Kardon nodded. With their identities safely established, he leaned closer, his voice lowering. "Boss wants to know what the escape plan is."

“I have a plan, but I don’t know where the hell anyone is.”

Kardon listened closely, nodding his head at the appropriate moments. Food was drugged? Glad he didn't try and satisfy his snack craving then. Create a panic, slip out of the back, jam communications but make sure Flagg and the others avoid getting caught in it. Possible confrontation - not the best news as they were without weapons. But...

"About as best as you can do," Kardon gave her at least that much. "So where is everyone?"

“I wish I knew.”

Well, that wasn't unexpected and he couldn't blame her as he didn't know where most of the squadron was either. Before he could say anything, Max retrieved her datapad. A quick tilt of his head and he saw that she was only now getting the same LOCKDOWN message that he and Flagg had received.

“I think my plan just went to shavit.”

Kardon hadn't seen what Max had seen, but it was proving to be only one of the many disturbances that were taking this moment to occur. The Devaronian - Kayn, right? - was making a mess of his own, who only Kardon could assume was the bride were screaming, people were being knocked out, stormtroopers coming in, and...safe to say it was time to go.

"Find your way to the kitchen. I think we can get out the back. But Flagg will have to figure out where the hell everyone else went."

"Right," was all Kardon said before he and Max went their separate ways, him returning to Flagg in a more hurried pace. With things going to hell now, there wasn't much need to be stealthy now. As soon as he got to him, he quickly said, "Max had a plan, but it meant getting down to the loading docks. Getting there may be an issue now, though."

"Ya think?"

Kardon shrugged.

"OK, where's Max?"

Kardon jerked a thumb back the way he came but, noticing that Flagg was already looking for others, said, "Back there."

"Looks like Wolf and Vixen have found an alternate route, spread the word to follow them down."

"Understood," Kardon answered, already moving as he and Flagg dispersed to spread the news. Once more, his lack of recognizable squadmates was becoming a problem and he hoped Flagg would get the ones that he missed. If any were left behind...

That was just how things were.

Eventually, once he passed on the message to those who could find in recognize, Kardon began making his way to the designated staircase. Already he saw a couple of their members going down and soon he was next in line, descending down to what he hoped was their escape out of here.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik , Whomever

 

Shoreline
Naboo lake
(Joint post with @Vehn)

Lou looked over her shoulder as Dietryk walked away up a flight of stairs.An uneasy feeling slipped across her back as she trudged forward in the sand. She wasn't out of this yet. Dietryk wouldn't let her go this easily unless he had a plan. He was vindictive that way. He also had a strange definition of love. Good riddance, for now.

A sound, unfamiliar and foreign, took her attention back to the shoreline. A figure emerged onto the beach, spit out by a massive animal, and Lou took a step back in surprise. What in the world was that?

"Hello?" Lou called out, "Can I help you?"

A blarth burst from the shallow water, growling and menacing the woman with its prehensile tail. The mysterious figure on the beach stood, his long snout and floppy ears streaming water and fish bits. "I don't think you can. I just had, uh, the most disgusting experience of my life? But...hey, you were at the party!" The Gungan noticed the blarth. "Hey Pep! PEP! You're alive! Leave the nice lady alone and come back to daddy!"

The creature's menacing growl relaxed into a stupid grin as he jiggled and bounded back into his master's arms. They fell into the sand together, the blarth happily licking regurgitated fish parts off of the Gungan.

Lou took a step back as she examined both strange creatures before her. She knew one of them was a Gungan and he looked vaguely familiar. The other one, well, she'd never seen anything frakking like it in her life. She relaxed a little bit as the creature backed away and began to lick the Gungan. Apparently it was a pet, a friend, something.

Lou had seen a gunship come in for a landing nearby and takeoff shortly after. That meant there was a landing pad and a possible chance of escape. She hoped the others were nearby, hoped that they had figured this out as well, because flying away seemed the best chance of escape at this point. The Imperial garrison's presence on Naboo and in the villa had proven that an escape on foot was pointless. This had to be their only way off planet.

"We need to get to the landing pad. My name is Lou. I don't know your name, I don't know where you're from, I don't know what you need, but if you want to survive what is about to come you need to come with me. There's a landing pad just over there. That's our only chance, that's our only hope."

Just then, the low whine of a sublight drive could be heard, and low and dark over the water came a green painted N-1 starfighter. Where an astromech usually sat behind the cockpit, there was the blue-adorned head of a pre-Clone Wars pilot battledroid. Bolo stood, collected his pet in his arms, and waved vaguely at the starfighter.

"Look," he said to Loud, "that's my ride. I don't go in for this rebellion stuff. If you guys are ever looking for supplies in the future, stop by again. Just be more discrete." He commed as the fighter drew closer and lower, nearly coming into contact with the beach. "Hey Tarpals. Did you avoid detection?"

The droid's voice whined back: "Uh...no."

"Wellp," Bolo grunted as he clambered up onto the front of the trip, the cockpit sliding back to accept him. He turned around, saluting the rebel. "Looks like you might have company." With that, Bolo did a dramatic, acrobatic flip into the pilot seat.

Lou smiled and gave a half hearted salute, "Good luck out there. Stay low and out of sight. You never who might be hunting. A pleasure to briefly meet you."

The cockpit slid closed on the fighter, and Bolo waggled the fighter in a goodbye wave. He flew low over the lake. Hopefully no one would see him.

And he hoped the nice rebel lady made it out okay, too.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
OP Charlie Foxtrot, overlooking the villa, Naboo

Taab watched as the marine next to him counted out another police gunship began settling down at the villa across the lake. "That'll be the fifth once it lands..." he started before his words were cut off by a low flying craft screaming overhead. "And that's the sixth," he said, but Taab shook his head. The sound was all wrong, as was the craft's silhouette. It was an old N-1. Perhaps not strange for this world, but not something Taab expected to see. The craft seemed to slow down, orbiting the villa at low altitude before it disappeared on the other side. Taab and the marines couldn't see what was happening over there, but it looked to them as though it had landed, or come shabla close. What was going on? He wondered, though the question was soon answered.

A few short minutes later the craft rose again into view, Taab couldn't tell who it belonged to, but it clearly wasn't the Empire. Within moments the gunship that had been headed for the villa pulled up and off it's presumed landing pattern and rolled over towards the low flying but ascending fighter. The gunship opened up with it's forward laser cannons which the fighter initially evaded before being bracketed by converging green laser fire from the gunship's pair of ball mounted turrets. The fighter staggered in midair, it's shields holding for the moment before the gunship let loose with a pair of missiles. Those tracked across the sky, reminding Taab of hunting movements of a sand viper before impacting the N-1's already battered shields. The first explosion knocked out the remaining shields of the craft while the second took out the port side engine nacelle causing the green painted N-1 to spiral gracefully down into the lake where it met with the cool dark waters in a brilliant explosion.

The Mandalorian gave a slight shake of his head, The attempted escape had clearly gone poorly for the pilot, who Taab could now see drifting down on a parachute back towards the villa. Still, it had delayed the arrival for the fifth gunship as it began tracking the drifting parachute, presumably transmitting landing co-ordinates to troopers on the ground at the villa, before coming around on it's original course, the unseen landing zone at the back of the villa.

TAG: @BobaMatt, I've mentioned numerous times I'd like for you to all escape together...

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Outskirts of the Loading Dock
Naboo Villa
Naboo


Lou crouched down and stayed low behind the durracrete barrier that made up the perimeter of the loading dock. She'd counted four Death Troopers during one of her early reconnaissance attempts and knew that more waited to carry out their deadly responsibilities from inside the villa. She knew the black armored soldiers of the Empire's darkest ranks were nothing to go toe to toe in a gunfight. They were professionals. They were several cuts above the regular stormtrooper and weren't so easily swayed as their white armored cousins. She grimaced and shook her head.

Escape wasn't going to be easy.

She felt a brief stab of regret for having left the others up in that room with their own Death Troopers knocking at the door. She'd hoped they'd follow her into the lake but it was clear now that they hadn't. She'd been alone in her decision to jump. Selfishly, alone. She hadn't heard any signs of blaster fire and apparently there hadn't been a fight, yet, because these Death Troopers seemed rather casual about their duties. Perhaps that meant that an alternative option had been discovered. Still, it bothered her that she hadn't seen signs of anyone else at the loading dock. Was she the only one who'd thought of this as her escape plan?


Unlikely, Lou, unlikely she thought as she pushed her worries away.

Lou's attention was sharply drawn to the sky as an approaching gunship aborted its final approach and pursued a streaking N-1 starfighter across the lake. She recognized the craft as having belonged to the Gungan who'd washed up on the beach. She felt a stab of panic as the gunship opened fire with cannon and missiles. The N-1 didn't stand a chance as the ship quickly succumbed to the intense firepower and dove right into the lake in a hail of debris and flame. She wasn't sure if she felt relief or fear as the gunship tracked a lone parachute making its way down toward the planet surface but either way it wasn't going to end well for the Gungan if he were caught by Imperial forces. The Empire didn't have the best policy or track record when it came to prisoners.

If they weren't already alert, which is doubtful, they most certainly are now, Lou thought as she returned her attention to the loading dock.

Somehow, someway, she needed to hitch a ride on the next gunship into the villa. She also hoped the others were nearby. Somewhere, also waiting, for their chance to escape.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik; et al

 

R2-MA16 ("Digger"); "Belgium"
Kitchen corridor, Naboo wedding villa

Mission accomplished. Digger chirped happily to himself as he found a position just outside the kitchen door, near the lift. With the security control room on lockdown and a spike deep in the controls, ready to activate, he was ready for whatever else Max would need him to do. The Rebels needed to extract quickly. There were more Deathtroopers showing up. A small group rushed past him, barreling in to the lift without paying him any heed. Digger wasn't programmed to worry, but he was ready for his pilot to show up so they could leave. He'd rather be in the socket of an X-wing, that was where an astromech belonged.

There was a lot of stuff going on, but Belgium was having a hard time concentrating. So much wealth in his chassis, all tied up in two delightfully heavy bottles of alcohol. Belgium had never known hunger, had never known what it felt like to eat. He imagined this is what organics felt like after eating. Giddy, content. Slow. He needed to snap out of it. He realized he was with a group of people. Oh right, he had compatriots now. Weren't they doing something? With bombs? Belgium's stupor instantly evaporated with the memory of bombs. If he didn't get the bottles out, they'd explode! He would too, but that somehow seemed less important?

"Rally in the kitchen!" they were ordered by someone. The tone sounded serious. Moving quickly, Belgium joined the hurried, but not too conspicuous rush to the kitchens. That was as fine a place to go as anywhere. His friend Gourmand was there.

Digger perked up as Max emerged from the service lift with several of the other Sheep. She smiled, and crouched down beside him. "Okay, Digs, I have a job for you," she said. The droid listened carefully.

"We need to jam the comms and disrupt the armor systems of all those troopers out there," she said. "You should be able to tap that transceiver you plugged into the Security comms, and you can boost down here off of Kayn's implants, which should disrupt anyone out on the landing platform. That's our exit. I need to go back upstairs and cause a disruption, to draw away as many of the troops down here as I can."

Digger squawked in protest. The Sheep had to leave together, and his pilot had to leave with them! Going up there alone was far too risky.

Max shook her head. "I've got no choice, little guy," she said. "The only way to trigger the malware is a voice command, keyed to my voice, and you can't do that."

"Keyed to my voice, and you can't do that." Belgium repeated in Max's voice.

He didn't know why he did it necessarily. He'd be putting himself in danger volunteering for this. But maybe a little down payment now could get him some consideration later. At least, that's how he rationalized it. He was still having trouble with that. He was heist drunk, he decided. Giddy with the wealth he now carried. Supposedly with organics, narrowly avoiding danger could give them the sensation they were invincible. It shouldn't be able to happen to a droid. Supposedly. Admittedly very little research into droid psychology had ever been done since both parties, organics and droids didn't care much about it.

"I can give a command I suppose." Belgium continued in Max's voice. Extrapolating an entire voice based on a sampling of previous phrases was less accurate of course than a simple recording, but Belgium had been called a show off before.

"Shall we?" he asked.

Digger growled under his breath at the interloper, but Max looked thoughtful. "All you have to do is say a phrase in Corellian," she said. <<Red Rum.>> In my voice. Can you do that?"

"I sure can lady." Belgium replied. "And if I can't, I just recorded you. So we're covered. Now, where am I going?"

Belgium looked toward Digger.

"Wanna lead the way my slightly less handsome friend?"

Digger turned his photoreceptors uncertainly towards Max. "Go on," she said. "Set off the distraction, and I'll stay down here. Make sure you come back as quickly as you can. We're not leaving you behind."

Max looked critically at the strange droid, and nodded slowly. Digger understood that. Yes. His pilot didn't trust the tagalong, and it would be his responsibility to make sure the other astromech did his part. The two droids rolled on to the lift, and were joined, a moment later, by a contingent of Deathtroopers, who paid them no attention.

The doors closed on the turbolift.

Belgium surreptitiously glanced around. These weren't stormtroopers. At least that's what he'd been told once. These guys were Deathtroopers, which meant they probably didn't carry any money either. If he could have, Belgium would have sighed. He glanced at the other droid. Miner? Excavator? Digger? Something like that. Seemed pleasant enough, if a little too attached to his Human. For right now though, Belgium was focused on the mission. Need to get out of here if he ever wanted to sell this booze. And for the moment, his only way out was with the people he came with. Even if he turned these people over to the Imps, the Imps would ask a lot of questions and he'd never get out with his stash.

The doors opened.

The droids calmly waited for the sadly destitute Deathtroopers to file out of the turbolift before rolling out themselves, Belgium flashing a quick, "After you" with his front lights in binary.

Digger rolled off the lift when the troopers had left, and after a quick scan of the area, he responded to Belgium. //THIS WAY.

They rolled up behind the bar. Even with all the troopers around, and guests slowly passing out, there was still a large, rather inebriated crew gathered around. The bartending droid, Mix-II, was busy, four electronic arms moving at speed, combining ingredients, filling glasses, opening bottles. Digger looked at Belgium. //NOW.

Belgium grabbed a lowball glass off the bar with his manipulator arm and surreptitiously threw it at the head of a bar patron, just clipping him on the side of the head. The man looked around in disbelief and threw a fist at the man sitting next to him. Chaos broke. Now, with enough noise and commotion to not be noticed, Belgium tapped on the leg of the bartender droid.

"Hey, buddy!" Belgium called out in binary.

Mix-II looked down at him, and Belgium polled his speech samples from Max, reconstructing the Corellian phrase.

<<Red Rum.>>

He considered simply replaying the recording of Max saying it, but he felt like showing off. Looking over at his partner in crime, he flashed, "Now what?"

Digger watched Mix-II carefully. They had tweaked the battle droid software that had set off poor Foodie, and if they had done it right...

For a moment, the bartending droid froze, lights flashing behind its photoreceptors as it processed the new commands streaming through its system. And then, its head swiveled, surveying the room. In a flat, mechanical voice, it spoke. "Targeting systems online," it said. "Hostiles identified. Commence firing." In a flash, the spigot which normally dispensed soda water and carbonation fluid switched on, splattering all of the Imperials clustered around the bar. "Hostiles identified, long range," it continued. With one mechanical arm, it grabbed glasses from the bar, beginning to lob them at the remaining drinkers, much as Belgium had earlier, only with even better aim. "Hostiles identified, multiple targets!" It grabbed a bottle of spirits, stuffed a paper napkin into the mouth, and set it on fire with the small flame normally used to ignite Flaming Gargleblasters and other exotic drinks before lobbing it into the center of the room.

As the bottle smashed and the alcohol spread across the floor, it ignited, burning with a blue flame before catching the hem of a glittering ball gown. Screams and shouts rang out across the room as Mix-II continued its mad rampage.

Digger eyed a bottle, and grabbed it before Mix-II could destroy it, secreting it in an inner compartment. He turned to Belgium. //RETREAT. QUICKLY.

TAG: Anyone

 

Bolo Lappie
Lake

He loved that ship.
The Empire would pay for that.
If the party didn't already know something was amiss, they sure did now. Tarpals held tightly to a terrified Pep as he floated towards the surface of the water and the Imperial gunship circled to track him. He'd seen Tarpals eject - his head would be floating somewhere on the lake. Bolo cursed and, taking a deep breath, unhooked his parachute, taking his chances on plummeting - he'd be better off in the darkness of the lake than floating lazily towards it.

With a splash, Bolo impacted the lake and watched the gunship chugchug overhead. He began to swim towards the wreckage. He called out: "Tarpals!"

He heard the buzz of the battle droid's voice: "Bolo!"

They continued like this for a while like a childrens' swimming game.
"Tarpals!"
"Bolo!"
"Tarpals!"
"Bolo!"
"Tarpals!"
"Bolo!"

Scuffed but not yet wrecked, the Gungan came upon his companion's oil slicked head, still steaming from the heat of the flames. Holding the head aloft, Bolo made his way toward the shore. Now his only way out was with the rebels. The damned rebels.

How embarrassing.

He hadn't even been in the air long enough for the human he'd spoken to on the shore to disappear from sight.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, @Vehn

 

IC: Jocelyn “Joy” Sunwalker
Imperial Wedding
Naboo

Jocelyn managed to convince Anais that the situation was under control and that there were enough people as it was. Nevertheless Fairy wanted to report that to the Baron. There was not enough time and they were going to exfiltrate soon. The issue with her ex remained, she did not want to kill or harm her. She was thinking fast, there should be a way to convince her… maybe trick her?

They were walking in silence as they reached the main area where most of the guests were. There was some commotion as she saw Kayn with foam coming from his mouth. ‘What the!?’ Jocelyn thought. It must be a trick… at least she hoped so.

Joy reached and touched Anais’ hand. “I would like to speak with you in private.” she leaned and whispered.

“I need to talk to the Baron first...”

“I am sure Zola took care of it.” that made her ex frown as it was not characteristic of Joy to ignore proper action.

“Jocelyn, you know the rules. Besides there is more going on…” Anais narrowed her eyes and whispered “... is it the ISB, are they hunting Rebels here?”

“That is what I wanted to talk with you.” she whispered back. Joy could see Flagg over Anais’ shoulder.

“I will be right back, unless the Baron has orders for me.” she shrugged and walked away.

• LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN

1. This is a security alert for the Naboo garrison.
2. Reinforcements to be sent to the Villa to enforce the lockdown.
3. Arrest Orders for Commander MacKenzie Hollymander. Detain subject Hollymander and any associates for questioning.

• LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN LOCKDOWN

Came from her commlink. That was not good, but who was this Commander Hollymander? Was he their Rebel contact? What about the woman who had pointed a gun to Zola’s head? What was going on?

Joy was confused for a brief moment, but her commando training kicked in. She had to find a way to exfiltrate and to hopefully find a way to convince Anais to join her. Here she comes…

Anais came back to her and Jocelyn closed her eyes and sighed.

“What is it?” her ex asked.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t it wait? We are in a middle of a situation here. Besides are you not supposed to be with the ISB sweeping the place and arresting the Commander?”

“No… I mean yes… It is more complicated than that. There are Rebels here.” that was it, she had said it.

Anais’ eyes widened in surprise.

“We have to alert security!”

“No, no… it is all part of an ISB op. I have discussed it with my handler and he agreed for me to ask you to join me.”

“I am the XO of the Skulls now, I can’t just leave...”

“He had talked to the Baron and he agreed. You will serve the Empire better if you are with me.” that was a blatant lie, but she decided to gamble.

Joy hoped that she could sell it to the Alliance Command that having Anais could be useful. If she still believed that she was doing a job for the Empire they could feed the enemy with false intel. Surely Wellings could see the benefits of having a double agent in their midst.

She could see that Anais was considering it. “Please, there is no time...”

“I… I need to think, I can’t just pack and leave...” Anais whispered.

“Please, you will be doing the Empire a great favor.” Joy implored her.

“Alright then...” she sighed.

“Great, I will set things up.” Jocelyn looked for Flagg and as she saw him she tried to get his attention. “Wait here.”

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik , Anyone

 

IC Ianna, Cassell, Eliana and MacKenzie
Secret Tunnel


The stairs descended slowly and twisted in different directions so as to move within the building structure. As he stepped down, MacKenzie chose to remain silent in the journey. He noticed the floor lights were becoming more spasmodic and there seemed to be something growing on the steps, a mould of sorts possibly. When his foot slipped, and he had to push his arms out to the nearby wall to stop himself from falling. "Be careful, it's slippery" he stated unnecessarily, as he was sure they'd all seen him nearly fall.

How did it all end up like this?
Carefully not to make a sound, Cassell brought up the rear guard. Listening to their surroundings, for danger, with an ear behind in case the passage way is discovered and opened and another ahead. In his hand was a detonation charge wrapped up in a hand kerchief. His thumb firmly placed on the switch to prevent the charge from going off. Supposed he slipped… and fell… a tumble down the stairs… if his thumb slipped off that switch, that would end their journey really quick. As though reading his thoughts, the Commander warned how slippery things can be. He frowned and carefully deactivated the dead man's switch. They wouldn't know the difference. Safety first.

Ianna followed behind the imp, or former imp, or spy or whatever he was weapon trained on his back the whole time. Her soft shoes give her a light step on the stone floor though the ruffling of her dress echoed slightly off the walls. She didn't expect to be doing skulking around in this outfit but, given all that was going on she would have to find a way to make it work.

As she continued, she saw the man in front of her slip. Her nerves were so on edge she tightened up on the small holdout blaster in her hands. She didn't pull the trigger she had more discipline than that but, it still startled her.

"Right." Another thing this outfit wasn't meant for, traction. She reached out with her off hand to steady herself on the wall as she traversed the mould. Her other hand held onto the blaster not letting her guard down for a moment.

Eliana copied Ianna and pointed her blaster at the man. She seems to know what she's doing. She thought, not wanting to get on her bad side. I'm already on the Empire's bad side. "You know at the academy, they taught us that dark locations like this are perfect setups for getting ambushed." Eliana spoke casually. Buddy beeped behind her and she laughed. "Yeah, I remember that time on Onderon too Buddy."

I wouldn't like to run into a Lasat again that's for sure.

Eliana sighed and added, "The Empire has more security on Naboo than any other world. Next to guarding the Emperor this planet is one of the most impotent holding points. And the Imperial Academy here-" Eliana spoke of it like she knew it well. "-is one of the most ruthless. They’re train killers, not soldiers."

Cassell kept silent as he listened to the one called "Mixer" as she spoke about dark places and ambushes. Hmmm… that's a charming thought, he mused and slowed his pace a fraction to not trip over her droid.

MacKenzie rolled his eyes as the woman's words. He knew better than anyone who was planet side, and who wasn't, but he chose to remain silent. The woman holding the weapons were currently in control and that was fine with him so long as they listened to him when the time came. Rounding what his memory told him was the last corner he stopped and held his fist up to indicate them to stop. He hoped they'd had some Military training and understood. The door they needed to exit through was only a few meters ahead, but he also knew what was on the other side.

Ianna came to a halt when the man in front of her did, he made a signal like those she was taught in her basic training. She knew it meant stop but, his cessation of movement was enough for her to stop as well. The other woman talked of the academies of ambushes lying in wait at the end of dark corridors. It was this thought that led her to glance about the space tightening up on her small blaster. If this was to be an ambush, he would be the first to die.

"Are we at the end?" she asked her voice dripping with double meaning.

Just as well Cassell slowed his pace when he did as everyone came to a halt and saved himself from bumping into "Mixer". He glanced down to see what the hold up was, had something had caught the Commander's attention? He strained his ears to listened but heard Ianna's query instead.

Spinning sharply, he raised his finger to his lips, to indicate silence was needed before giving a nod. MacKenzie wasn't sure how this was going to work, he was pretty sure he'd be able to sneak a look out through a slither in the door in the wall, but not much more and that wasn't going to give them a good look at exactly how many were out there. He also knew he'd not be able to look without explaining to his 'companions' as they were about to shoot him in the back as it was! He began to subconsciously stroke his beard, for some unknown reason it helped him think but he didn't have to do it long. Without warning muffled alarms began to go off, he looked up instinctively knowing the main party was above them. His comm in his pocket had buzzed several times with messages, but he'd not looked at it, it was time. Reaching into his pocket carefully with his free hand up to show the two weapon carrying ladies he was not about to reveal blaster of his own, he carefully pulled it out and began to read quickly. So, they were on to him, that was almost expected at this stage. Frowning he read more, more troops coming in on the platform they were heading for, not good. Then the last message made him almost smile. Fire in the reception room, ship down in the lake attempting to escape, 'escape what?' he wondered. He needed to peek in with any luck all troopers would be called to control the obvious insuring insanity going on upstairs and that could be their moment. He looked back to the group and mouthed the words carefully in the most hushed breath he could. "I need to take a look. ok?"

Cassell gingerly fingered the activation switch on the charge as he waited with abated breath. Muffed sounds faintly filtered through… Alarms? They're all having a party? Swell.

Ianna wrinkled her nose at being shushed like a child. Her head did turn hearing the muffled sirens. What was going on up there? She hoped that it was a prelude to whatever escape they had planned. Her little group might have had a way out but, the others still had to make theirs. Not that they were out yet. She brought her gaze back to her uneasy ally as he was reaching for something. Again, she tightened up on her blaster ready to end him if he tried anything. Her heart was ringing in her ears they were so close to their exit but, so far away from it and putting too much trust in a man dressed in the colors of the enemy. When he made his offer, she stepped close to him pressing the barrel of her pistol into his gut while craning her neck up, so he could hear her whisper.

"I'm coming with you." She couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him, she was not about to let him leave her sight where he could summon more imps or have a change of heart.

The shorter woman stepped up close to him and stuffed her blaster into his stomach. Being so close caused him to have to look down sharply as she stood on her toes to speak to him.

"I'm coming with you." she almost hissed.

He lifted his head and turned away, once again rolling his eyes. He'd gotten them this far, what possible benefit would it be to turn on them now? Giving his head a slight shake in dismay he turned to the panel in the wall where he'd known to look earlier, the small weapon pushed hard against his ribs now. Pushing the panel, he felt with his fingertips it was spring loaded. Slowly he rested his entire hand on the hidden door and pushed slightly. The panel moved millimeters, five maybe, but it wasn't enough to see anything. Drawing in a deep long breath, he pushed again approximately the same distance giving him a bigger gap to view through. What he saw was what he'd expected, the platform was being carefully guarded by Four Death Troopers, as he’d ordered earlier in the night. Glancing up he’d hoped the above drama would cause them to abandon their posts, and he knew how wrong that was even as a thought. Holding his breath, he quietly closed the door again. They needed a distraction, something for the troopers to focus as he knew there was no way two hold out blasters were going to get them past this. "We need a distraction." He said calmly and quietly, "Something to get their attention."

There was a slither of faint light… an opening? Cassell strained his eyes to see past everyone else for a glimpse of what laid beyond. He couldn't make out much but listened in. As tempting as it was to suggest to use the charge against the trooper, the status quo has to be maintained in his favour.

"It had better be for your sake." Eliana said quietly, dangerously. Her face seemed to darken, like she knew what it was like to be betrayed.

As Eliana stood there she watched Ianna out of the corner of her eye for a moment before she raised her blaster. "We still need to get past them. I hope you’re a good shot." Eliana said with a small smile as Buddy beeped behind her. "The sooner we get out of here the better."

And then she motioned her hand to her droid in the direction of the Death Troopers.



IC: R2 Unit "Buddy"

Buddy didn't much like humans, but he trusted Eliana. She had found him when she was twelve, broken and forgotten and done her best to fix him up. He remembered the Clone Pilot that had been his companion, his friend years ago and she reminded him a little of that man. But now she was signalling him to move, her hands pointing to the Imperial Death Troopers he understood were around the corner and made a shooting motion with her hand.

Finally.

Buddy slowly made his way forward, inching closer so he could slip around them and move past them, he heard the confusion behind him before he stopped and turned around.

And then Buddy charged full speed toward the Death Troopers, screaming and waving his arms.





Tag Those involved @galactic-vagabond422 @TheSilentInfluence @Corellian_Outrider

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Passage outside the kitchen, Imperial Wedding Villa, Naboo
Do or die time

Max hadn’t arranged a signal with Digger, she really hadn’t needed to. She had been lingering in the passageway outside the kitchen, lurking in the doorway of a pantry while she monitored her datapad. Kayn, Zara, and Akiva were in one corner, pretending to… do something. Ethan was tending to Amber’s dress (sort of). Flagg and Durham were loudly questioning the cooking droid about every ingredient in the food, asking about allergens. Max was tapped into the house’s security control center, and when the alert went up about a rogue bartending droid, she knew it was go time. She caught Flagg’s eye, nodded slightly, and pulled up the jamming signal, ready to transmit it. With her heart pounding, she caught up the trash and made her way to the doorway to the loading dock, headed for the waste disposal for a second time.

As she exited, a Death Trooper held up his hand. “Halt!” he said. “This area is on lockdown. No one may enter or leave the building.”

Max blinked. Of course she knew about the lockdown because she’d been monitoring the security frequencies, but she also knew it had not been transmitted outside of the security staff. The guests and catering crew should have no idea of the heightened security status. “Um, no one’s told us anything, sir,” she said meekly. “I know there’s some sort of fracas upstairs, but I just thought some of the guests had been um, enjoying themselves too much.” Still four of them, the others must have moved inside to respond to the alarm. At the back of the platform she saw movement, but she didn’t dare look away from the trooper blocking her.

“You need to go back inside,” said the trooper. “Tell the others that no one is to leave without authorization.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she said, dropping the trash bag and backing away. Just as she got to the doorway, a droid appeared out of nowhere, an astromech, charging on to the landing platform, screeching and waving its arms around. It extended its electroprobe as it charged one of the troopers.

“Rogue droid! Another one!” shouted a trooper. He brought up his weapon, aiming at the small device. For one awful moment, Max had thought it was Digger, trying to create a distraction. But it wasn’t, and it wasn’t the interloper. This was something else. And it was what she needed. She slipped her hand into her pocket, found her datapad, and punched the TRANSMIT command. The signal hit the Deathtroopers on the platform, and she bounced it through Kayn’s transponders to the main security comm panel to broadcast through the entire complex. If it worked as it should…

…if it worked… the signal would jam all Imperial comms frequencies and send a new energy signal to the armor of the troops. Both Deathtroopers and Stormtroopers would be affected, increasing the energy output demands on the armor until there was nearly instantaneous overload. A powerful, ear-piercing sound to deafen them, a bright light through their visor displays to temporarily (or even permanently) blind them, and then all power to the suits overloaded. Microforcefields, health monitoring, targeting systems, blaster power pack recharging, all offline. In those few precious seconds, they would be vulnerable. Until their training took over, that is. An Imperial Stormtrooper didn’t rely on his armor, after all.

She watched, tense, sending up a silent prayer to Kharnath Feen, the Bandit slicer who had come up with it (may he rest in peace). They’d never had cause to use it on Sharan, and had only tried it experimentally, never in the field. Feen had said it was a lost-cause strategy, to be used only if all else failed, because once the Empire knew about these weaknesses, they would try to counter it.

But now, she could see the Troopers flinching, their knees buckling. A few reached up instinctively, trying to remove their helmets, something they were trained never to do. Max took a chance, body checking the man in front of her, hard, grabbing at his weapon and wrestling it out of his hand. With a sharp whistle, she signaled to the others who were (she hoped) waiting just on the other side of the door. Two blasts at the trooper, point blank, with his own weapon.

It is definitely time to go, she thought. Mom, if you have any influence on the other side, use it now.

TAG: @Sarge, @Anedon, @Bardan_Jusik, @Adalia-Durron, @Mitth_Fisto, @Sarge221, @Rebecca_Daniels, anyone else near the landing platform or in the kitchens

 

IC: Kayn "The Ripper" Balzroth
This Party Is Over

Kayn scanned the kitchen and quickly spotted lots of knives. Good cooks were usually picky about having good knives and keeping them razor sharp. He grabbed one of the heavy cleavers that looked like it might stand up to the abuse of combat. But slashing blades weren't very good against modern synthetic armor. Piercing weapons would more likely penetrate the joints of trooper armor. Meat skewer? Maybe, but that didn't have much of a grip. He checked the freezer and found an ice pick, long and sharp, with a solid handle. That's the ticket! And it even fits up my sleeve! I'll keep the cleaver for parrying and back up, too.

He visualized an Imp standing before him, slashed with his left hand, and stabbed with the right. Not exactly balanced for knife-fighting, but they'll do a lot better than that stupid butter knife.

An ear-splitting whine split his brain right down the middle, as if he'd started a sound system feedback through a massively amplified speaker embedded in his central neural lobe. He staggered for a moment until he managed to mute the reception in his own head, and cranked up the output to the transmitters in his horns. Mental note: Max has the capability of turning my brain to liquified jelly if she tries hard enough.

Uncrossing his eyeballs and recovering his balance, he grinned at the others in the kitchen. "Max just signaled our retreat. I feel a panic attack coming on, so you might not want to get too close." He turned and followed where Max had gone.

In moments she was in sight, face to face with a squad of troopers, and For frack's sake she's attacking them all by herself?! He ran pell-mell at them, keeping his knives tucked behind his forearms, and yelling at the highest pitch his voice could manage.

"HELP! HELP! REBELS ARE ATTACKING IN THE HALL! SAVE US! GUARDS, SAVE US!"

The nearest trooper seemed more interested in covering Kayn than protecting him. With muzzle of the blaster rifle aimed right in his face less than a meter away, Kayn swung with his left, using the heavy cleaver to knock the rifle aside, and his right hand jabbed upward, aiming the point of the ice pick up under the chin of the black-armored Imperial soldier.

TAG: @Anedon, @Mistress_Renata , @Adalia-Durron, @Mitth_Fisto, @Sarge221, @Rebecca_Daniels and anyone else stupid enough to bring knives to a blaster fight

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Loading Dock
Naboo

Lou saw the droid charge the Death Troopers. She was sure it wasn't going to end well. She was sure that it was going to light the spark that would bring their entire mission crashing to the ground. What happened next surprised her and galvanized her at the same time into action.

Max approached the Death Troopers and within minutes they were starting to writhe and buckle, reaching up for their helmets, cursing, fighting off whatever had just afflicted them. Lou watched as Max dispatched one of the Death Troopers with his own weapon. A smooth, efficient, move. The kill of someone who had taken life up close and personal before. The mark of an operative.

The other three Death Troopers were starting to react. They were starting to get organized and fight back when Kayn, that crazy Devaronian, appeared out of nowhere and unloaded what appeared to be some sort of pick into the head of an Death Trooper ending his life. Lou watched in muted satisfaction as the Death Trooper crumpled to the landing pad in a heap of wasted Imperial resources. That was that.

Then there were two.

Lou looked down and saw a rock the size of a limmie ball resting near her feet. She quickly snatched up the rock and glanced frantically up toward the battle as the third Death Trooper, the one closest to her, fought off his newfound disability and shakily raised his rifle at Max. He was getting ready to blow her away if it was the last thing he did.

Lou growled and charged the closest Death Trooper. As she did so she realized that she couldn't remember getting to know Max at all despite being her squadron mate for some time. The two were vastly different women. In fact, they didn't think alike at all. They were definitely not friends, at least, not in the same way that Lou felt towards Ianna or Jocelyn.

Differences aside, Lou, she's about to be smoked by a Death Trooper. You are no longer part of the Empire. You are a Rebel pilot. You are a woman fighting for revenge and to save your family's home. You're also a woman of honor. Do the right thing Lou thought as she closed the distance with the Death Trooper.

Lou roared and heaved the rock directly at the Death Trooper's head. The rock catapulted through the air and struck the Death Trooper squarely in helmet. He was dazed, confused, already from the attack Max had unleashed but also now because his bell had been rung by a rock that should never have gone airborne. He collapsed to the durracrete.

Lou lept on the Death Trooper and ripped off his helmet landing several blows on his clean shaven face.The humanity underneath the helmet startled her. Nearly made her hesitate. Nearly made her call off her attack. This was a living, breathing, individual. Yes, she'd killed people in starfighters before but nothing like this. Nothing so personal. Nothing so intimate.

"You foolish woman," the trooper hissed through blood stained teeth sensing Lou's hesitation, "if you're going to kill someone, mean it."

Lou landed another blow on the trooper's face as the trooper started to struggle against her. Time was running out. She had to kill him. She had to mean it. Lou reached for the rock and brought it close to her. She dished out a few more strikes to keep him preoccupied.

"Thanks for the advice," Lou hissed, "I mean it."

Lou grunted and raised the rock above her head. The trooper's eyes went wide as Lou brought the rock down again and again upon the Death Trooper's skull. Lou, drenched in the blood of her enemy, looked up at Max and Kayn and nodded. She knew they now were aware that she had their back. Thick and thin.

Deep in her soul, deep in her heart, there stirred only one emotion in Lou.

Loyalty.

To her squad.

To her friends.

To her new family.

And then there was one.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik; @Mistress_Renata; @Sarge et al...

 

This post is a joint effort between @TheSilentInfluence , @galactic-vagabond422 , @The Real Kyp Durron , and myself. Many thanks!

~IC~ Ianna Mcear, Cassell Wystari, Eliana Saeli, MacKenzie Hollymander and special guest
Location: Secret tunnel - Landing pad

"We still need to get past them. I hope you're a good shot. The sooner we get out of here the better." Mixer had said.

Cassell sized up the situation; Buddy's diversion should create an opening for them to act. If they could get in there and take them down fast and quietly, the rest of the villa will be none the wiser… except for Commander Hollymander who would witness it all. Need to keep him in check somehow...

"Agreed. However, good shots won't do if the noise brings the whole garrison here upon us." Cassell warned as Mixer gave the signal for the lil one to roll out. "If I may suggest, divert their attention for us to get in close and take them down the old fashioned way."

Glancing behind, MacKenzie stepped back to allow the droid passage, he hoped it would be as silent as was necessary as he watched it go past. A sound caught his attention and turning around again he noted the fabric on the shorter woman's gown was the kind that rustled when she walked. In normal circumstances it would be considered alluring, but not now. He leaned back to her. "You need to lose the bottom half of your gown, it's making too much noise."

Her face looked shocked at his suggestion. This dress was a gift, something she agonized over for a while, to just destroy it? She couldn't do it. Both on a practical and emotional level. The rustling of the dress reached her ears nearly echoing in the stone halls. He was right it was too loud and she needed to get close to those imps. She wanted to keep it in one piece to preserve the one happy memory she had from this whole adventure but, didn't it just put her in more danger? Just like her morals, holding on to them had only ever put her in danger, put her life at risk. Now she was freting over some piece of overpriced fabric. But, she couldn't help it...it had come to represent something else to her.

The droid was already moving into position, there was no time to sit on the fence, she had to make a choice now. She closed her eyes hard before opening them, a little teary eyed.

"Do you have a knife?"

MacKenzie bit his bottom lip, the time for hiding things was passing faster than he'd expected. Reaching down to his boot he pulled out his last resort weapon, his last hidden secret and handed the small vibroblade to the young woman. Looking over to the other man in the group he signaled with his hand to turn around so as to give the lady some privacy.

She took the knife trying to hide the shivering in her hand. Taking a few steps away she turned the blade in her hand feeling the weight of it. Why was she still hesitating they didn't have time for this, their lives were on the line. With another breath she plunged the blade into the skirt like one would slaughter a captive nerf. The knife was sharp easily cutting through the shear fabric, and nicking her just above the knee. Her face didn't show pain just a slowing building resolve, a plan coming together in her mind.

She returned, the dress shortened unevenly the bottom hem jagged and sloping to the left. Her intent was to keep it just above her knee to give her better range of movement but, some parts ended up showing far more leg than her mother would think is proper. Coming forward her face was somewhat more determined than when she started. As she handed the blade back to the imp she pulled him close.

"We're moving in, I can't break armor with this blaster." She held the blaster up a little still pointing the barrel at his gut, "Need to get close enough to hit them in the joints or the neck." She cast her gaze over to Cassell and the other woman. "They're in much the same boat. Two teams, two people, you're with me." she tapped him on the hip to make her point clear. With the sound of the droid going off in the distance the young woman pushed the imp forward. "Let's go, don't try anything."

He inwardly groaned. If this woman only knew he could have broken her neck before she even pulled the trigger. Imperial training for grunts wasn't that in depth, but for officers aiming for security detail leadership, it was much more intense. "Promise, I won't." he muttered as politely as possible although he heard himself and knew the sarcasm had dripped through. He turned and waited for the droid to do its job.

"Take this," Skipper said to Ianna, handing her the charge wrapped up in the handkerchief and guided her fingers to keep the switch held. Not that she would know that it had been deactivated, no point in saying it out loud as best to keep up appearances.

"Protect the lady." He asked the Commander before turning to Mixer. "Ready to live dangerously?"

The young woman took the explosive careful not to release the trigger lest she blow herself and the rest of her team away. Her face soured when Cassell asked Flanker, or whatever his real name was to watching over her. She wasn't some helpless woman that needed protection. She could shoot straight and hit a target. She'd never fired on a living being before but, she could do it. A slight sneer grew on her face as she followed the others out. The alterations to her dress making her legs nearly shiver with the sudden cool breeze wafting off the lake and brushing against her bare skin. Though she felt exposed she was a good bit quieter now able to creep around staying low preparing herself for what she had to do. She had to kill someone, up close and personal. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her determination was slowly ebbing out of her as it came closer and closer to the time.

Watching the smaller woman take the explosive and screw her nose up as the man ordered MacKenzie to 'take care of her', he wanted to throw his hands up in frustration. 'She's holding the blaster, she's holding a bomb, what good am I right now?' he mused.

Eliana looked over at Cassell and winked. "You bet! And it looks like Buddy's having fun." She joked before motioning Cassell to move forward, crouching low as to not alert the Death Troopers. "Let's go." She whispered as she moved closer to the Death Troopers.

Through the opening, the troopers were acting strange, as though an invisible force was assailing them… at first he thought of Amber but then it became clear it was something else, to do with their equipment.

Now was the time to move fast. Everything then came to a convergence point… there was other activity on the platform. The muffled whine of a blaster going off to their side, he turned his head and witnessed a trooper going down by a shot from close quarters.

'Blast it! So much for the element of surprise.' He cursed in his head at the sound, he kept low and quickened his pace his target. He didn't see who did that but hoped whoever it was that they were on their side… or at least divert attention for another moment...

The sound of a struggle and another body crumpling, another went down… Forget about it now, get this one and if Mixer got the other- Cassell hesitated as something had struck the helm of his target and a bloodcurdling scream cried out. That was not the trooper… From out of his vision, Lou appeared and jumped the trooper and they both hit the ground. He turned to face the final trooper and witness its rifle taking aim at Lou. Cassell reached for his holster… only to remember he was unarmed. The only thing he can do was charged.

But when they started to get taken out, Eliana stopped. She wasn't expecting more Rebels to show up like that. Especially in the brutal way that the Death Troopers started getting killed. Eliana was no stranger to violence and she had taken out many Imperials herself, but blood made her a little uneasy. Taking a breath to centre herself Eliana raised her blaster and fired on the remaining Death Trooper as he raised his rifle causing him to misfire.

A bolt clipped the trooper, throwing off the aim and the shot went wide. Time slowed as Cassell watched the aim of the barrel turned to him, level at his chest as he closed the distance. Something shattered. He felt the impact before the sound registered.

~Thud!~​

He skidded to a halt. A slab of metal and stone landed before his eyes where the trooper once stood. Shattered glass rained about him. He blinked, trying to comprehend what happened. A statue? What in blazes-

A high pitch squeal interrupted his thoughts. "Ooops! My bad!" He looked up and saw Harley half leaning out a broken window. She waved to him "Oh hey! Did ya miss me? sweetie?"

He looked back to her handiwork, the statue had fallen onto the trooper. He looked up. "Of course. Get down here." His eyes lowered, surveying their surroundings all the while hearing Harley complaining. He gave an acknowledging nod to Mixer before recognising Max, Kayn, Zara and a few of the squadron mates. "Didn't we just leave this party?"

Harley dropped down from the last part and landed lightly on her feet beside Cassell. "Yeah, sure." she said as she dusted herself off. "We're just getting started. Whose up for the after party?"

Tag: Secret passage crew, stair crew, water crew at the landing platform.

 

IC: Ianna Mcear
Landing pad, Villa, Naboo

Ianna crept up blaster and bomb at the ready. She was taking a breath trying to settle her heart and calm her hand. These were Death Troopers, worse than stormtroopers not even speaking only communicating in that screechy mechanical voice. She had to do this she had to do this or they would die, her friends would die. Bringing up her pistol she went through all the training she'd gone through what her father had taught her. Bring it up to her eye, line up your target control your breathing…

A roar pulled her attention as she watched Lou charge forth and collide with a Death Trooper in a Limmie style tackle. All she could do was watch in horror as her friend, someone she cared about tore off the helm of the trooper, and smash his face in. The sound turned her stomach the muffled pained grunts stunned her. The pistol dropped from her hand the inert charge fell along with it rolling along the stone floor. Her eyes were wide her hands shaking. She could see the ribbons of blood flying off the rock turned blougeon, see the crimson flecks that stained Lou's uniform and face.

The young woman wanted to turn away, to close her eyes and not see what was going happening, but she couldn't. She didn't notice the falling statue, the return of the others in her squadron, all she saw was Lou, out of breath and stained in blood.

"Lou?" The name slipped shakingly from her lips, her face white as a sheet, a tears starting to form in the pit of her eye.

TAG: @Vehn Everyone else on the platform

 

​

IC: Commander Flagg (NPC)
So close to freedom, Naboo

Chaos erupted in the main ballroom as the bartender droid began flinging bottles (full and empty, it didn't seem to discriminate) everywhere. The Imperials trying to get a hold of the security situation were inundated by the assault and retreated from the room. The action of reestablishing themselves somewhere else would give the Black Sheep a vital few extra minutes Flagg knew, but it was still beyond time for them to get out of here. He followed Durham down the staircase to the kitchen, but not before seeing Belgium head down the lift headed for the same location. So it was the new droid that had managed to wreak havoc up there, somehow the Commander had thought such tricks bore Max's signature instead. No matter who got the credit, the deed was done. Behind him Joy followed at a quick pace, it looked like she had something to say but Flagg cut her off for the moment. "Wait one, looks like something is going on..."

---

IC: DT-770C (NPC)
Guarding the loading docks.

The Death Trooper in charge of the small security contingent on the villa's lower loading dock listened in on the security comms traffic with a fair degree of confusion. It sounded like chaos up there in the ballroom, and throughout the villa. Clearly something was up, though the Death Trooper had no idea whether it was a rebel attack, some sort of machinations between different Imperial factions or simply that good a party. Fortunately, it wasn't his job to think, just to follow orders, and his orders were to hold down the loading dock and facilitate the arrival of additional security forces. Those were landing in waves of white clad Stormtroopers on police gunships every few minutes.

The Death Trooper turned and looked skyward, even as one of his men dealt with a wayward member of the wait staff. The next transport should have arrived by now, though he was now receiving word from central that it had departed the landing pattern to take care of a lone craft, a local, attempting to flee the villa. It was back on course now and should be landing momentarily. As soon as the words came in on his scrambled freq he was greeted by the sound of approaching repulsors and the sight of the craft once again moving in, this time on final approach. Another Stormtrooper squad would be arriving momentarily.

“Rogue droid! Another one!” the excited utterance from the Death Trooper behind him caused him to break his focus on the approaching gunship and look to hard charging red and white astromech droid, rushing at them with it's head spinning and "arms" extended. The trooper who had first noted it raised his blaster rifle to fire, but DT-770C order him to stand down. It was just an astro droid, what harm could it really do? It's appearance seemed to fit the pattern he had been hearing about from the ballroom though, droids gone wild. It was possible there was some sort of virus being passed from droid to droid, if so one would need to be captured so they could try to track down the original slicer who had caused the problem. The Death Trooper glanced back up at the gunship, maybe one of the Storm Troopers it carried would have an ion blaster. He hated asking the white shells for anything, but if it meant a lead on what was happening it was worth it...

He never got the chance though as a roaring screech filled his head with white noise from his helmet's radio. The men went to their knees, tearing at their helmets which had now blinded them. Before DT-770C knew it his men had come under attack as blaster fire echoed out over the dock, and the Death Trooper could see one of his men down on the deck, a pair of smoking blaster holes in his armor. Another trooper had managed to recover, and had moved to protect the other guests who had come streaming down onto the dock. He was rewarded for his efforts with some sort of sharp implement being embedded under his chin. Like his blaster stricken comrade he too slumped to the deck, with blood pooling around him from his wound.

The guests were in on it! DT-770C raised his blaster rifle, and attempted to use his bucket's comm signal to call for help, but the signal was still being jammed. Well then it was up to he and...

He looked over to see his last remaining trooper getting his brains bashed in by a woman in a soaked Imperial uniform wielding a rock. Well, she would be the first to go he thought as he moved in behind her for the kill, switching off the safety on his blaster with a barely audible *snick* ...

A red blaster bolt clipped his armor just as he pressed the trigger, causing his own shot to go wide. Taking a moment to flick his selector to full auto DT-770C determined he would kill the blood soaked rebel first then strafe towards where the incoming blaster bolt had almost gotten him. Moving his finger back to the trigger he smiled wanly to himself just as ...

**THUD**

The trooper never saw the statue fall from above that flattened him to the duracrete decking of the loading dock.

---

​

IC: FN-451 (NPC)
Crest of hill 152, overlooking the loading dock

Their position on hill 152 was perfect FN-451 thought to himself as he looked through the scope of his E-11s sniper blaster. From here the lance of scout/snipers could watch over the entire rear of the villa, including the all important loading dock, which was their primary assignment. The position was perfect for their assigned mission, to protect the police gunships as they dropped off their troopers, and ensure that no one tried to make any sort of hasty escape from the villa via the "back door", especially now that the lock down order had been given.

"Sir, we've got some weird movement here..." came the report from his spotter. The trooper was using just the magnified view afforded him by his helmet, which gave him a wider, if less detailed view of the target area. "From the left, bunch of..."

His call was cut short by a sudden screech from the comms system and their helmets went blank with white noise. "What the hells?" FN-451 exclaimed, though his systems seemed to return to normal after a moment. It was then that he saw what his spotter was talking about, though now it was too late to do anything about it. A large contingent of people, some in uniform, some civilians, and some even alien, had assaulted the Death Troopers his unit was supposed to be protecting!

He let out a slight gasp, they were rebels! "Open fire." FN-451 commanded to his unit, though it would really be the spotters that released them to shoot. "Send it," the two men said almost in unison to FN-451 and the other trooper armed with the sniper rifles. A pair of green bolts flashed out over the water, touching two of the rebels as they advanced across the dock.

FN-451's hit a human male, a civilian by the looks of him though he was obviously a rebel, and sent the man hard to the deck. He was dead before he hit the ground. Meanwhile his companion had hit the large slug like creature, wounding it badly. It too fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

"Hey did you see that thing go down?" the other sniper asked. FN-451 was about to reply that any rifleman worth his salt could hardly have missed such a large target and they needed to re engage the other targets when suddenly their position was bracketed by dense red and yellow blaster fire from the next hill.

"Shift to..." he began to say before a yellow bolt cut through his midsection. His unit never had a chance.

​

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
OP Charlie Foxtrot, overlooking the villa, Naboo

From their own position one hill over from Hill 152, Taab and the squad of marines watched as the villa erupted into chaos. "Sir those scout troopers are getting ready to..." a marine tasked to watch over the neighboring hill managed before a pair of shots rang out. Now it was time. "Take'em," Taab ordered and just a moment later red blaster bolts from the marines rained down on the scout troopers position from the rebels. Taab himself fired in controlled yellow colored bursts while Lieutenant Diamé flipped the happy switch on her rifle and laid down full automatic fire onto the neighboring hill. The marine's red bolts bolts lit up the sky as well as their position as the enemy scoutroopers were quickly dispatched, though anyone in the area would now know where Taab and his group were.

"Shab," Taab muttered, reloading his weapon even though he'd expended just over half a magazine. "You four, take their speeder bikes and get to the Valkyria." The Marines nodded as one with a bright "Yessir", from the marine who had first spotted the problem. "Things should be chaotic enough for you to get through to the spaceport. Stay off comms unless you run into a problem." The marines rushed down the hill and into the night, a few moments later Taab could hear the resplusors of the speeder bikes coming to life and he knew the Marines were away. That left just Taab and the rest of the Black Sheep. The Mandalorian couldn't do much from here, especially with this position now compromised, so he lit off his jetpack and took to the sky...

---

IC: Commander Flagg (NPC)
so close to freedom.

Flagg and the others rushed forward to help as the Death Troopers were taken out one by one. They were going to make it he thought, and without a single casualty. He should have known better.

Two flashes of green echoed out across the lake, one hitting Sergeant Panno just below the sternum while the other hit the Woltarian, Parvil. Both went down, totally lifeless and Flagg knew without looking that they were both dead. Flagg threw himself to the ground, looking for cover from the sniper fire even as a cacophony of blaster fire echoed out over the lake. That would be Taab and his group of marines eliminating the threat he hoped. In any case, the green bolts of sniper fire had ceased, even as the noise of battle on the other side of the lake died down. With the snipers taken care of and the Death Troopers shot, stabbed,smashed or flattened things seemed to be secure here for the moment.

"Yeah, sure." Quin said after adroitly lowering herself to the dock from above. "We're just getting started. Whose up for the after party?" Her enthusiasm gave even the normally stoic Flagg reason to smile. "No time for another party, we've got to get out of here," he said as he picked himself back up. Taking a moment to look around the dock he noted several others with the Black Sheep that hadn't started the mission with them. He didn't know who they were or why they were here, but now that they were... "You're all coming with us," he commanded. They could sort it out later whether these were POWS, hostages or just civilians that were being rescued. Now they just needed a ride.

As if in response to Flagg's desire, his senses were assaulted by another sound, the high pitched whine of screaming repulsor engines. Looking out towards the end of the dock he saw a police gunship settling down. Already committed to landing, it had been unable to wave off when the rebels commenced their attack. Now it would be their ticket off the island. If they could get past the eight Stormtroopers that quickly disgorged from the craft, their blasters at the ready and pointed at the Black Sheep.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Sarge @Rebecca_Daniels @Mitth_Fisto @Mistress_Renata @zark @Anedon @GenOochy @Sarge221 @The Real Kyp Durron @galactic-vagabond422 @Corellian_Outrider @TheSilentInfluence @TheAdmiral @Vehn @BobaMatt

OOC: Going to give a brief rundown here for quick reference. Every Player Character and their droids (aside from Taab) should be out on the loading dock by now. Panno and Parvil have been hit by sniper from across the lake and are down. The police gunship has landed for the moment but is preparing to take back off to make room for the next gunship which is incoming. Eight Stormtroopers have disembarked the gunship and after the events on the loading dock, you can assume have marked you all as hostile. These are free use, so first come first served for those. As always, any questions can be PMed to me or asked in the Fanclub.

Almost out of this folks, everyone is doing great, so keep it up!

 

IC: Eliana Saeli
So Close To Freedom

Eliana halted mid stride when the Police Gunship landed and the stormtroopers filed out; giving the group a once over. Eight Stormtroopers? This isn't going to play out well for them. She glanced at the group of Rebels briefly before setting her eyes back on a stormtrooper off to their right and just as quickly at she had looked at them, Eliana raised her blaster and fired at the weak point between the stormtroopers armor and helmet, the shot echoing as he dropped to the ground. She breathed sharply and half shouted, "Find cover and take them out!"

She didn't care if they had heard her or not, she could hardly hear herself over the lasting echo of the shot, but Eliana didn't want anyone else to fall victim to the stormtroopers or the Imperials that could be their reinforcements.

Blood pounding in her ears Eliana managed to get Buddy behind some debris before firing again at the stormtroopers doing the opposite of what she had said. She was standing in the open, and seemingly unaware of the danger that stood before them. The sooner we get rid of them the sooner we can get out of here. I've had enough of Naboo for awhile.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @Adalia-Durron @Sarge @Rebecca_Daniels @Mitth_Fisto @Mistress_Renata @Anedon @GenOochy @Sarge221 @The Real Kyp Durron @galactic-vagabond422 @Corellian_Outrider @TheAdmiral @Vehn @BobaMatt

 

IC: Akiva Lurell 'Wolf'
Nearing the evac, finding conflict

It had been a child's plan from the beginning, and if not for the notion from the commander that he would shoot them if they wandered too far she would of. Instead they were being herded like screech bats into the clearing where two blaster shots had taken two of theirs in their haste to make way.

The death troopers were dead, no small feat, but so were two of their own. Once more their squadron was loosing members, and once more they were dying in the sloppiness of war. A war she didn't even believe in. She had stayed back, whether that had saved her life or not was a point she couldn't focus on, instead she focused on what she had done. Her blades hidden as braces had been freed and equipped, but too late to do any good. There was no confirmation that it was clear to go out, merely the lack of any more death upon the platform. She had heard moments later mixed in the engines of an approaching craft the blaster response on the hills, only none of them died.

It was clear, only then the ship landed and the eight disembarked. There was an erie moment where either side seemed to just take in the others presence. She raced forward, out into the open, out into the killing zone. With long blades on her arms she gracefully twirled around and down, impaling the dead man of a death trooper next to a wingmate that had bashed his head in with a rock. With precision and grace that belied the speed at which she moved she impaled him from the other side in the joint gaps of the armor, reached for his weapons before hoisting him up.

A part of her had planned to use that human shield to protect her Cudro-Ji hide and just prance right up to the shinies and kill them. Only as soon as she hefted she saw her own child-like planning as the weight of the body in full armor nearly pinned her on the spot. She shifted to move herself and him between the shell-shocked member and danger as she looked about. She saw the sight of purple moving in their group and with a whistle and word of "Lekku!" threw the Death Troopers blaster rifle toward the twi'lek member of their group. She knew it wasn't her callsign but didn't want to out the woman for whatever it was worth on a troopers helmet cam. After all a face and a species if populous enough was not in itself unique, but add a name and context to that and connections became too easy.

She kept the side arm for herself, an SE-14r. Not a bad weapon, not nearly as good as her own but it would do. Holding it sideways, swoop gang style, she let it rip with a burst. Five shots, the recoil of each moving her aim further down the line of enemies. She figured only the first bolt would likely take the far left trooper out, as for the rest, suppressive fire to make them pause. To give her flight and wings a chance.

TAG: @Everybody

 

IC MacKenzie Hollymander
Entrance to Tunnel on Platform


The woman ‘guarding’ him, clearly couldn’t take orders or stay put as she rushed past MacKenzie out of the door toward the platform centre. He was exasperated by this stage, these Rebels were un-disciplined and out of control. Pushing the door fully opened he surveyed the scene quickly and the image that caught his attention most was that of a woman on one of the troopers, her features spattered with blood. This sort of image did not shock him as his gaze found the young girl who’d just left him, standing out in the open and clearly in shock. Two shots rang out and he caught two of the Rebels going down in his peripheral vision. A transport was landing and the ramp down, this was taking seconds as Stormtroopers poured out, eight in all. The young woman was not moving, she was a sitting duck. ‘Protect the lady’ flashed across his memory, and as he knew how to take orders, he followed them. Breaking into a sprint he reached her in seconds and wrapped his arms around her waist. The statue was nearby and it was about to be cover for them. Without a second thought he spun her around, putting himself between her and the troopers, before dragging her behind the fallen statue hitting the ground under her hard. They were out of the line of fire now. He leaned down to her ear and hissed.


"Did you drop the blaster? Great, at least I'm following orders, I'm protecting you.”




Tag @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Landing Pad
Naboo

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Crimson spots fell from her hands onto the durracrete landing pad. A countdown. A reminder of death.

Lou continued to straddle her hapless victim for what seemed an eternity. An unrecognizable victim. You have to mean it, Lou remembered her victim saying. That'd triggered something inside her. Something uncontrollable. A rage that had been locked away ever since she'd joined this fight and thrown away the key. The rage was out now and the grief that fueled every second of it was very much alive and well.

Grief. Loss. Sorrow. She began to remember her fallen brother, Myn and why it was she had joined this fight after Dietryk had exiled her from Carida.

Lou dropped the rock that she still held tightly onto with one hand and stepped away from her kill for a brief moment. The colors of the world around her faded. The sounds of battle had fallen silent. She'd never felt more alone and yet so distant from her own thoughts. She'd gone into autopilot mode. She was running on fumes as her adrenaline left her.

"Lou?"

A voice. It seemed so distant. So far away. Unreachable.

Lou glanced over and found the source of the voice. It was Ianna. The look of shock and horror on Ianna's face made Lou want to run. Want to hide. Even want to try and justify what she'd done in the name of this Maker forsaken war. She wasn't perfect. She knew that. What really tore her up in this moment of cold revelation was that she'd fallen in the eyes of her friend, Ianna Mcear. She was no longer Lou from Roon. She was Lou the murderer who brained Imperial troopers with a rock to protect her squadron mates from harm.

Lou brought a shaky, crimson covered, hand up to her face to wipe a few strands of hair from her eyes. She felt the sticky, wet, crimson of the Death Trooper imprinted upon her skin. It was then that she realized she must look the part of a monster. Maybe she now acted the part as well. How could she explain anything to Ianna? How could she talk her way out of this? There was no way. There was only the muted acceptance that Lou had done what she had to do even if that meant going too far. Even if that meant losing the friendships that mattered to save the lives of those who did.

Quietly, softly, the color and sound of the beautiful world of Naboo began to return. It wasn't immediate. It wasn't sudden. Before long the physical world that Lou inhabitated returned to normal. As normal as a war zone could get. Lou turned as the sound of a police gunship landing caught her attention. She watched as eight Stormtroopers disebarked from the hold with their weapons at the ready.

The battle resumed.

A woman, Lou vaguely recognized her from the party, opened up and took one of the Stormtroopers out. He clattered to the ground in a heap of ozone and white armor. A flash, a blur, a four armed alien, raced by Lou and took another Stormtrooper out. More chaos. More carnage.

Lou looked down at her own kill and her eyes rested on the blaster rifle he'd carried into battle. Blaser bolts zipped and zinged all around her. The worries in her life faded away. The stresses, the emotions, the concerns. She had resigned herself to the war and to the notion that she was already dead. It wasn't a good way to view life but it was a good way to survive what was to come.

She knelt down and picked up the blaster and checked the energy cell. It was fully loaded having never discharged. Lou raised the blaster rifle and aimed it at the nearest stormtrooper. It was a ridiculously easy shot even for a Y-Wing pilot. She quietly pulled the trigger and watched with impassive satisfaction as the shot went wide of her intended target.

Not good.

Tag: @galactic-vagabond422, et al.

 

IC: Zara Yaren
Back in business

Two shots rang out over the docks, and Zara whipped her head around to trace her eyes to their origin, putting aside the two Sheep lit up by those shots. No time for that now. Snipers, set up where she'd much rather be right about now. The rebel backup lit up the hills further, and she squeezed her fingers tight, itching for the weight of a blaster-- any blaster-- right about now, to do some real damage back at them. Some of their crew were armed now, but it was little compared to the now-dying Deathtroopers' kit and the ships circling this place. Then again, if their haphazard attack could take four of them down, maybe they might make it-- or more likely gunned down by the gunships, dragged to an Imperial prison, executed as Rebel traitors. Something appropriately terrible and Imperial.

Quin, the Zeltron, dropped from above. "We're just getting started. Whose up for the after party?" Zara nodded at the other woman, her headtails twitching with some amusement. "I got some Zeltron wine with your name on it back on the big ship... if you think you can handle it." But Flagg was quick to bring them back on track. "No time for another party, we've got to get out of here."

The Codru-Ji, Wolf, caught her attention, a call of "Lekku!" just before Zara nearly missed the thrown blaster rifle. The weapon danced in her hands a moment, caught off-guard by the quick reaction and her slowed reflexes. Not that slowed, she determined as she made a quick examination of the weapon, fitting her hands to the grips intended for an armoured wielder. The quick glance as they entered this party hadn't done it justice-- this was some good equipment, far better made than the junk the stormies usually carried. She nodded her thanks in the direction of Wolf and sighted at the oncoming white armour.

Time to take out some trash.

TAG: All

 

IC: Belgium
Location: Landing Pad Naboo

Belgium was shocked. He'd agreed to go on a mission into Imperial territory, planting bombs under the noses of armed combatants, but he'd never expected a firefight! Who knew that subterfuge in war could go so wrong? This is what happened when a droid didn't plan things. Organics always gummed up the works. These thoughts occurred to him as a background process, casually running on the one processing core that wasn't desperately trying to avoid incoming blaster fire.

Directly in front of him, one of the meatbags went down. Belgium froze. He had never seen one gunned down before. Even in his stint working with a smuggler, he'd never seen one shot. I mean, a couple of stormtroopers once, but they had armor and it was hard to think of Imperials as living beings. The shape on the ground didn't even stir. But something did. Belgium felt something stir in his processor. That wasn't just another meatbag. That was his meatbag. He didn't know when in the mission he'd adopted these meatbags as pets in his mind, but he had. And now another kriffing Imperial had shot one of his pets.

Belgium knew his cover as an "innocent astromech" was blown. He'd heard screams of "rogue droid" throughout the halls several times. No one would hesitate to shoot him. And while ion blasters were far more dangerous to a droid than standard plasma, either could kill him. He knew he should just hide behind things until a way out presented itself. He knew he had a fortune in booze in his cavity. He knew he wanted to kill an Imperial.

He ejected his shock prod. Not lethal, but used enough... maybe. He started wheeling toward the stormtroopers.

TAG: Anyone

 

Bolo Lappie
The beach...

The Gungan stereotype for broad comedy notwithstanding, Bolo couldn't help but allow his jaw to hang wide open, his eye stalks to stretch to full length, lids wide open. Tarpals' head hung limply from his hands. Soaking wet, Bolo tried to regain composure.

These rebels were incredibly violent, even by a soldiers' standards.

He collected himself, nodding, trying to raise his voice above the din. "Uh...Lou? I'm uh. I'm back."

He bent low and picked up one of the blasters from one of the Deathtroopers - more like "deadtroopers," he snorted to himself - and tried to figure out how to use it.

"Maybe I can help? You guys get me back to the Otoh Gunga and I think I can help you get out of the system."

Tag: @Vehn, ALL

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Loading dock, Naboo wedding villa

In a combat situation, the world ran in slow motion, or so it had always seemed to Max. As she watched the Deathtrooper she’d shot fall away, she felt a rush of air beside her as Kayn charged forward, shouting, and took down the trooper to her right. Behind him, the motion she’d spotted from the corner of her eye resolved itself into Lou, soaking wet, taking out one of the Deathtroopers by smashing a massive rock against his head until the man was pulp. Max blinked, a bit surprised by the bloody, violent attack, but then Lou wasn’t really trained in hand-to-hand combat, was she?

The third trooper, to her left, raised his blastrifle to fire at Lou, but a shot came from the far left. Max couldn’t see who had fired it. The shot missed, but knocked the man’s aim off and his aim missed Lou. A massive chunk of rock dropped from above, crushing him underneath it.

"Ooops! My bad! Oh hey! Did ya miss me, sweetie?" Harley, the new Zeltron Sheep, waving from the window. She’d pushed one of the statues off the ledge to crush the Deathtrooper. Max had to admire her ingenuity, although the woman was still clearly insane.

The rest of the crew from the kitchen moved past her to the platform; Flagg, the worm guy, the new guy who she hadn’t met yet, and the other new guy, Derwin? No, Durham. She heard a sound just inside the doorway, and saw Amber, bent over, retching while Ethan hovered over her, solicitously. And to her left, a soft sound… “Lou?”

She looked. A group of Sheep were emerging from…from the wall? A hidden door? Ianna was standing at the front. Her gown was ruined, her face was a mask of horror and tragedy. Tears were streaming down her face, and the idiot girl had dropped her blaster! They were in the middle of a mission, ready to take fire again at any minute, and Ianna had thrown away her weapon. If Max had been closer, she would have slapped her. The Kid and the Princess needed to go home, that was all there was to it. They had no stomach for combat, and while they might be good shots in a starfighter, they thought it was a sort of holovid game. Run up a high score and congratulate yourself. They didn’t realize they were taking real lives.

Max knew this. She preferred starfighter duty, but she’d done plenty of ground missions with the Bandits. She’d taken lives. She’d learned seven different ways to kill someone with her bare hands and had used three of them. She didn’t enjoy it, she didn’t feel the need to brag about it. She did it to protect herself and her teammates, to carry out the mission. And she’d only ever killed soldiers, like herself. The Sheep weren’t safe right now, and this was no time to fall apart. Even as this thought raced through her brain, shots spewed from across the water. Instinctively, she pressed her back into the archway of the door as the Woltarian and the new guy she didn’t know fell to the ground, dead. Snipers!

She looked across the lake, but there were flashes of red, Rebel fire. The Mandalorian must be there with the Marines, engaging them. At any rate, no further fire came down on them. Max pulled off the loose skirt she’d worn serving, revealing the dark blue, multi-pocketed pants she’d worn underneath. Now she felt like a proper Bandit again, in her own mission clothes. Best of all, she could finally reach the pockets with her gear. She moved to the two fallen Sheep. She patted down the man, wishing she'd learned his name. He was clean. One pocket had the fake ID they'd all been issued at the start of the mission, a few creds, nothing out of the ordinary. He'd planted all of his explosives. A check of the pouches in the Woltarian's harness showed that he, too, had completed the mission. Max took their IDs, pocketing them, and took one of the two explosive charges she hadn't used, armed it, and slipped it into the human's belt pouch. There wouldn't be enough genetic material left for the Imperial investigators to identify, and his loved ones, if he had any, might be safe. She shuddered to think of what would happen on Sharan, throughout the Galaxy, if the Empire identified all of the dead on Hoth. A lot of innocent people would suffer for what their familes had done.

Max glanced around, counting noses. All the Sheep were there, a few strangers…what the hell was the Imperial Security Chief doing there? Had the others captured him? Why was no one guarding him? Before she could begin to move towards him, since Ianna was still staring off into space like a spice-addicted mooncalf, she heard an unwelcome sound.

A loud, angry whine, and Max grimaced as a gunship dropped to the loading dock’s landing pad, disgorging eight Stormtroopers. Lovely. She turned her head to look for Zara, but Wolf was rushing past her. The four-armed woman speared the dead trooper, picking him up to use as a shield, and tossed his blast rifle to Zara, who fumbled for a moment, then dropped to one knee, looking for a target. The glassy, dozy look in her eyes was gone, replaced by the sharp, clear gaze of a hunter looking for her prey.

"Find cover and take them out!" Max turned in confusion as the catering manager ran out into the open, ignoring her own advice, and started shooting with a blaster she’d drawn from somewhere. Who the hell does she think she is, and why would she think any of us would take orders from her? And of course, how had she smuggled the blaster past the guards? She saw a droid roll towards the guards, shock prod extended. The green and white interloper. Max gave him credit, he was loyal.

Beside her, Flagg and the other new guy crouched low, glaring at the newcomers. Max tossed Durham the rifle she’d gotten off the Deathtrooper. She had a smaller, holdout blaster, and she had a better way to take out the Stormies. Digger had his shock prod extended, and was about to follow the new droid. “Digs,” she called. He turned at her voice, and came to her, whistling a query.

“Seal this door,” she said. “I don’t want anyone coming in from behind. Lock it down, trash the lock if you have to.” He chirped happily and went to work, proud to have an assignment. Max pulled her datapad out of her pocket, and looked over at Kayn, who had retrieved the rifle of the trooper he’d taken. She whistled softly, a few notes of a silly song B-flight had invented, and he looked in her direction. Catching his eye, she brandished the datapad and tapped her headscarf, in the spot where her horns would be if she were Devaronian. He nodded, forewarned. Pressing herself into the archway of the door for cover (the shots were flying thick and fast), she pulled up the jamming signal and punched it to transmit a three-minute blast. As she did so, a green bolt got too close, grazing her hip. <<Ah, kriffin’ tryas!>> she swore loudly. <<I am SO not getting paid enough for this!>>

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, @Sarge, @Sarge221, anyone