Carson was his typical self, a pile of cigarras in the ashtray
indicating his lethargic 'activity' for the past several hours. He had
been poring over countless holos, searching for anything that might trip
up their operation. He was decked out in civvies for once, feeling
slightly uncomfortable in clothing that wasn't specifically designed to
be stiff and rugged. Jace had told him earlier that he would need to
make some last minute pickups for some of the components he was using to
construct the mines, and so he had decided to leave his Rebel SpecForce
outfit in the closet. Somehow, the idea of wandering an Imperial Core
planet in rebel attire just seemed counterproductive to their
operations. Despite his rather harmless appearance, though, Carson was
far from unarmed. As always, he carried his BlasTech DL-44 openly,
despite the laws against it. Most people did, anyway. And even if that
was not enough, he had the silenced Adjudicator pistol tucked away in a
small of the back holster as a hold-out. There were other things as
well, like the vibroblade stitched neatly into the seam of his jacket.
All in all, he was fairly ready for a fight. On the table next to his
holotapes was the chopped down carbine variant of the ever popular
Coruschal GGP-Z22 slugthrower, its silencer unscrewed and sitting next
to it. For inner city work, it was a fine piece, and slugthrowers didn't
raise the same eyebrows or trigger the same sensors that blasters did.
Carson snuffed out a cigarra and looked over at Jace. The time seemed
to be drawing near, and he expected he'd want to be on his way. "Bout
ready, or we gonna wait 'till morning?"
Like Carson, Jason was dressed more or less normally like a civilian.
A loose brown shirt and black weaved pants would conceal his modified
blaster, and a cap covered his eyes from view. "Morning is far too long
as you well know. We are just waiting for that agent in the corner to
leave so we are not tracked. Unless you are aching for another gunfight
and more negative media attention? I mean, your face is already the
highlight of the sector Most Wanted list."
"Yeah, yeah," Carson muttered, collapsing the stock on the
slugthrower. "Listen, if you hadn't been conveniently indisposed when we
made that spaceport hit, maybe the holotape of my face would never have
made it to the Imperials to begin with, so whose fault is it really?" Of
course, he was just giving Jace a hard time. He should have at least put
on a skimask, but he hadn't. Too many years of sitting around. He'd lost
some of his edge. Oh well, he thought. Shit happens. He made his way
over to the window of the building, peeking through the dirt stained
glass. The ISB guy was still hunting for their hideout, but he should be
around the corner in a few minutes, checking the next block. "Alright.
Let's move. You lead off, I'll follow when our resident detective here
decides to move on. Just give me the all clear when he does." Carson
motioned for Jace to pack up and get ready, and then went back to
watching out the window.
"Not my fault you all planned that debacle for a time you knew I was
off planet buying pieces. I'm off, make sure to carry the module so you
do not get caught as quick." Exiting the side door of the safe house was
easily accomplished, and tracking back to the front would give him a few
moments to harass their agent so Carson could make a discreet exit.
Fortunately, Jace had the documents to prove ownership of the building.
If Carson did his job right, the Agent would not be a problem too much
longer for them.
Carson was, if nothing else, good at his job. And to be honest,
probably nothing else. Carson watched as Jace's movements pulled the
agent away, and then made his way to the door. On the way, he stuffed
the ECM module in his pocket, along with a couple of thermal detonators.
One could never go wrong with a thermal detonator. As he reached the
door, he peeked again to make sure the agent was still tailing Jace, and
then slipped out. He came up behind the man quietly. Obviously he wasn't
a pro, since a real operator would have kept watching the door and never
left himself in this kind of situation. But alas, Imperial training
never failed. Quantity over quality, and this guy was no exception.
Silently, he pulled his knife from his pocket, a faint click as he
flicked it open. Slipping up to within a few feet, he suddenly lashed
out, his left hand coming around the man's head and covering his mouth,
his forefinger and thumb pinching his nose to keep him from yelling. As
he stabbed the man in the kidney, he kicked out the back of his knee,
letting his weight carry him down, forcing the wound cavity to widen,
essentially destroying what was left of his kidney and the major blood
vessels. There was no initial bleeding, ironically, the blade filling
the cavity, and Carson stabbed repeatedly. He wanted this to look like
an amateur job. Like some spicer who just wanted some cash. He made sure
he kept his distance enough to keep himself clean, and he wiped the
blade on the man's jacket as he laid him down. Quickly, he rifled
through the agent's pockets, taking any cash or valuables. He took
everything from his shoes to his watch, and threw them over the roof of
the huddle to his left. SOme kid would probably pick it up later. Not
like this was the best part of town. Carson drug the man back away from
the alley entrance and dumped him into the speeder. They'd have to be
quick or the blood would settle, making it look like he'd been moved. "Jace,
let's detour by the seediest part of town we can. We'll drop him off by
a cantina, make it look like he'd been robbed by a spicer. Then we'll
head off to pick up the goods."
"Right, but no entering the Cantina until after I've gone in for a
few minutes. No patterns. Couldn't you just have pulled a Tong and
vaporized him, bodies are so messy?" Climbing into the speeder was
easily accomplished as he let Carson drive this time. Once they dumped
the body, it would a short hop to the destination, and he would go in
first, handing a credit chip to Carson as if paying a fare or tip.
Carson throttled up the little speeder, heading deep into the seedy
part of town. It was not long before he found what he was looking for,
and not much longer before the street cleared enough for him to dump the
body. He pulled up next to a dumpster in a seedy looking alleyway,
stopped the speeder, and rather unceremoniously dumped the body of the
ISB agent into the trash receptacle. Without ever stopping to even check
if he'd been seen, Carson got back into the speeder as though he'd
literally just dumped off some trash. If he looked like he belonged,
nobody would notice. If he freaked out and acted suspiciously, there
might soon be witnesses. Again, he throttled up the speeder and headed
for the Cantina, and in short order they pulled in front, with Rake
stopping the vehicle to allow Jace to get out, then holding his hand out
expectantly for the proffered credit chip. "That'll be twenty five,
buddy," he said in his best 'cab driver' voice.
The credit chip was handed over, and a quick walk into the cantina
was made without too much fuss, no sign of imperials just yet. Picking a
seat in the corner, now it was time to wait for someone to contact him.
Thankfully, he had just charged the power cell in the blaster incase
this went bad.
Carson made his way around the back of the cantina, then drove
several blocks down, parking the vehicle in a busy street. He got out
and tried to look normal, making his way around the front of shops as
though he was window shopping, heading back the direction he had came.
Once he reached a cross street, he blended in with the evening crowd of
drunken spacers and smugglers, heading for the bar. As he approached, he
scanned for troopers. He spotted one, standing at the main entrance and
looking at the newcomers. Apparently, if you blow up a spaceport
somewhere, the local security gets a little antsy. Looking like he
belonged, he made his way straight past the trooper, never even looking
at him. He tried to keep his head moving, and always facing away, either
by looking at his watch or searching for something or somebody in the
opposite direction. He was npt entirely sure he was successful, but one
could only hope. Carson searched for and spotted his compatriots,
meandering around the bar before making his way to them.
Night had descended on the city of Cormond, still recovering from the
devastating effects of the terror attack on the spaceport the previous
week. The planetary docking authority had been overtaxed by the lack of
a major spaceport and smaller auxiliary docking bays had been forced to
accommodate ships that were too large for them to handle. Security had
been reduced greatly as the decentralized system was not ideal for
inspections. Criminals, smugglers, and other elements of the fringe had
taken advantage of the lax security to bring nefarious shipments to the
Commander Derek Atio stood wearing his spacer's attire consisting of
a brown, bantha hide jacket that was ripped in many places and had
served him well over a long career. His pants were soiled and covered in
grease from years of working on his damaged shuttle. His eyes darted to
his wrist chronometer as he waited for the smuggler he had contracted to
bring much needed supplies. Unfortunately, he had been much to busy with
coordinating the ambitious Rebel offensive planned for later in the
month to accommodate the supply needs of the commando team. Outsourcing
had been necessary to supplement the weapons of war that were needed to
keep a team operation in the field.
"Sprocket!" She shouted behind her. Farther back in the straight
corridor of the modified YT-2000, the R2 Astromech, aptly named
'Sprocket' because of the big, black painting of a sprocket on its
rotating dome was tweaking something else that she did not tell him to.
Such a tweak turned off the repulsorlift system that was easing their
descent into the crowded spaceport. After a warble and a wail, the
repulsors kicked back in and she cursed as she readjusted her heading "I
don't care if you were just trying to make it better, get to the hold
and make sure its secure!" Grumbling, she pulled her white hair back and
tucked it behind her pointed ears before she lowered the landing gear.
circling for just a moment, she eased her ship down to the landing pad
that had been 'reserved' for her and the clunky looking, Matte black
starship touched down like a feather. Through the polarizing cockpit
canopy, she could see a man who she assumed was her contact just from
the attire, and the fact he looked pretty gruff. Shutting down her
repulsors, the ship eased down on its hydraulic landing struts and she
unstrapped herself, passed by Sprocket as she meandered through the ship
for a moment, and when the ramp extended and lowered itself, she was
along for the ride. The Blue skinned, pointed eared, white haired girl
stood about five and a half feet tall, looked like she weighed less than
what she did, and was dressed like she was ready for anything. As far as
people in the smuggling business, she looked fairly green as she waved
at the commander.
Commander Atio nodded to the half Arkanian, half Chiss smuggler as
she approached, hoping everything was in order. He felt very exposed in
the small docking bay and was not yet sure if he could trust the woman.
Could you ever trust anyone in this line of work? he thought silently to
himself as he walked towards the docking bay of the ship. He did not
carry a datapad with the manifest on it, as he did not want any records
of the components they were acquiring to fall into enemy hands should he
find himself captured. He wished Corporal Athol had accompanied him, as
he would be unable to tell the difference between parts for ion mines
and components for a refresher, he thought as he looked over the cargo
containers. "Did you have any trouble acquiring this stuff?" he asked
Minersha, as he dropped down onto a knee to look over the contents.
Could be for a mine, but it could also be a pile of Squib trash. "Help
me load these on to the repulsor sled," he said to her, as he struggled
to haul one of the larger crated onto the nearby sled. He was definitely
not in the right shape for this line of work.
Jane made a face at him. Obviously, she was quite young, no older
than maybe twenty standard years. Possibly twenty two, but since hybrids
of her bi-racial parents were so rare, it would be very hard to tell.
"Sprocket, open it up," she said to apparently no one in particular
before the cargo lift lowered underneath the starboard mandible. There
were eight crates of stuff, each one about one cubic meter in capacity
and rectangular with stickers on them marked 'Perishable Goods' and
'Keep Frozen' on them. "I have the bread, eggs, flour, and bandages that
I was hired to bring here. I sure do hope that they go to good use. It's
kinda hard to find fresh stuff like this for cheap anymore," she punched
a few buttons on the tiny number pad on the lid and it opened up for him
to inspect. Clearly, not any sort of foodstuffs. They were indeed the
parts that she had been told to deliver. All the parts were neatly
packaged and sorted. Among all the rest of the cargo was stolen
blasters, or bread. Thermal detonators, or eggs. Power supplies and
blaster power packs, or blankets, and the flour was the components for
the mines. She grumbled a bit at the prospect of manual labor and whined
a bit "Don't you have Droids for this sort of stuff?" she said as she
assisted him in lifting the crates onto the repulsor sled. "Yes,
Sprocket, you can make it better now," she said once again to apparently
no one in particular, which would look quite odd.
"Droids?" Derek asked in disbelief, shaking his head at her as he
struggled to get the fifth of the eight crates onto the repulsor sled.
"We could barely afford this ... let alone droids," he explained to her,
as he was now covered in sweat and beginning to emanate a particularly
foul odor. He struggled, breathing deeply as yet another cargo container
was dragged onto the sled. His heart, attached to clogged arteries from
years of overeating threatened to explode as the final cargo container
was started to lower down the ramp. "Next time I'm bringing a few
hands..." he said, as he carefully began navigator the repulsor sled
down the ramp of Minersha's vessel. "You'll need to come with me so my
guy can verify the cargo. Don't worry though, you'll get paid," he
assured her, offering a kind smile, as he was always regarded as an
affable and trustworthy fellow. Anyone in close proximity to the Tetan
male would have the unfortunate experience of picking up a particularly
unpleasant odor from his overexerted labor.
Having worked in a shop most of her life on Corellia, and than in an
orbital repair yard, Jane was more accustomed to bad smells than most
girls. Especially since one of her friends during that time was a Rodian,
and they smelled horrible. It did not take her much time at all to get
used to his odor. It was not pleasant, but tolerable. "Alright. give me
a minute before you go. I need to grab something. Maybe you should
exercise more, mister," -he gave him a wink and practically skipped back
up the ramp. The cargo ramp retracted once they and the cargo were
clear. Bounding into her little cabin on the ship, She got her
previously vacant utility belt. Pouches abounded and on her hips in
holsters was a pair of slightly modified Merr-Sonn Model 434 Blaster
pistols. The scopes had been removed and the casing was stripped down so
they were not so damn heavy. She also slid a pair of mundane knives into
twin sheathes at the small of her back underneath her vest. She also
tied her white hair back in a ponytail and sprayed herself with a mild
perfume that would make the smell of Derek more tolerable. Sliding back
down the ramp, she jogged back to the repulsor sled and beside the
commander. "I'm all set. Lets go," and after a short pause, she spoke to
apparently nobody again. "Yes, Sprocket, you can activate the security
system and play your music," another pause and she giggled like a little
girl. "Just don't have any wild parties, or you'll have to clean up
before I get back," the black ship behind them closed up and the quad
laser cannons at the dorsal and ventral gun ports began to swivel slowly
as the short range scanners of the ship switched into active mode. The
slight sound of music could be heard, it sounded very digital and odd
before the ramp finally sealed itself and no more noise was heard.
Commander Derek Atio managed to get the repulsor sled through the
narrow entrance of the docking bay and onto the streets of Cormond. He
looked around cautiously, bringing up his left hand to run through his
matted hair. He could not believe that he was pushing eight crates full
of illegal equipment through the streets of a war torn city. He had a
bad feeling about this, he thought to himself as he walked with the
smuggler towards The Unlucky Star, a Cantina close to the docking bay
where he had arranged to meet Carson and Athol. They were in a low class
neighborhood of Cormond, practically the slums, where had had just as
likely a chance of getting mugged as he did getting stopped by the
Imperials. "Boy I hope they like the bread at the Unlucky Star," he said
loud another for others to hear, as he continued to push the sled. "Let
them come down here and take a turn pushing this crap," he muttered
under his breath as they neared the service entrance of the Unlucky
Star. "Here you are, my good man," he said as tossed a fifty credit chip
to the cook working in the back, so they could make use of the back of
the Cantina for their purposes. "Stay here with the stuff," he said to
Jane, as he dusted himself off and moved into the Cantina to wait for
Jane looked around at the sights and sounds of the city as they
passed through it. She was glad she was with a guy a few sizes bigger
than most of those she saw around here. People were looking at her and
her body. While she was proud of it and enjoyed people looking at her,
she did not particularly like some of the looks. When she was in the
cantina, she finally relaxed a little, and when told to stay, she gave
the commander a frown, than stuck her tongue out at him. "I don't wanna,
but fine," she huffed and leaned against the sled, looking over the
people in the cantina as she yawned and stretched.
Captain Ithan Tavers, leaned over Sergeant Goodwin's shoulder, "Are
you sure the informant recognized the main target?" Tavers, asked, an
Imperial Army Captain, as he gripped the rail.
Sergeant Leroy Goodwin took in a breath of recycled air before turning
on the external speaker inside of the skull like helmet he wore. The
helmet gave a click as the speaker kicked in. <Click>"Sir, it was
confirmed both by the officer and a paid informant inside of the
cantina. They say there is one suspect.
<Click> He replied as a heavily armed transport came to a stop before
the Unlucky Star. The back of the transport opened and Goodwin was the
first one out, with four troopers following, as the second transport
came to a stop.
"Sergeant, create a perimeter I want your best men with us." Captain
Tavers said, as he started to walk towards the entrance.
Goodwin spoke over the open comm, as he fell in line with the
Captain, shouldering a T-21 rifle. He had been reassigned to a new unit,
since the checkpoint failure, he felt his jaw grind as he gave the
order. He most assuredly did not need a babysitter on this type of
operation, and did not ask for one that would tell him how to do his
job. A few minutes later there would be three troopers on the back
entrance, and two on the front, while two remained in the transports on
Ithan Taver's thick black boots fell heavy with every step upon the
hand durcrete, as he was followed by Goodwin, and three other
stormtroopers. He placed a hand upon a control, his right hand removing
the DH-17 from his belt, and stepped inside. "Everyone please remain
calm, this is a random search, we would be most appreciative if
cooperate." Ithan was a dashing young man, who recently acquired his
rank through being a nephew to Count Isood, his dark brown eyes looking
out from beneath the black cap searched the crowd as the Imperial
Stormtroopers followed in formation in his wake.
Oh you have to be kidding. Imperials?! This was about to get messy,
very fast. A quick glance over made him suspect they had split their
forces, so to make sure nothing was reported, his left hand reached into
the jacket pocket and pressed down firmly on a concealed ECM-Jammer
remote activator. The Jammer itself had been mounted on the roof the day
before, so now no electronic signals in a 100m radius around the cantina
would go anywhere. A second press was made on his pad, sending a coded
signal to both Atio and Carson. Once he had done all this, a third press
would wipe the emergency program, and pull up a holonews report. Now, it
was time to wait.
Carson was npt one for waiting. Very smoothly and very carefully he
eased the stock out on the GGP-Z22 slugthrower. It was not that
difficult to hide, as it was chopped down pretty short, cutting its
effective range back to a little over two hundred yards, but cutting its
'imprint' down to almost nothing. On its single point sling it hung
neatly against his body. He had never been a big fan of the single
points, but they did serve their purpose. Having gotten that ready, he
unfastened the center of the back holster of his Adjudicator,
facilitating its rapid draw if necessary. With its silencer screwed on,
the loudest sound would be the racking of the slide. Of course, that
would be next to pointless in this fight, at least after the first
couple of shots. Once he was certain that his weapons were ready, he
stuck his hands back in his pockets, gripping the thermal detonator. It
was time to move. "Gents, I do believe we should make a play. Atio, you
better get that repulsor lift ready. If you hear any shooting, meet me
in the kitchen. If not, wait five minutes and check to see if it's
clear, then make your way out of here. Don't go to the safe house. Jace,
you know what to do, so I won't waste my breath."
"You two are almost so much fun," Derek said to Rake and Jason as he
discreetly slid from the table and began to move to the back of the
cantina where he had left Jane and the goods. What were the odds that a
squad of Stormtroopers would show up as they were trying to inspect the
goods ... something was not right here. He nodded to a Twi'lek at the bar
as he moved closer towards the back, as what man would not nod to an
available Twi'lek in this seedy establishment. When he reached the back
room he looked nervously towards Jane and quickly began to power up the
repulsor sled. "So ... change of plans..." he nervously said as he reached
into the pocket and produced a 5,000 credit chip from his pocket and
tossed her. "Have an imperial warrant out on you?" he nervously asked,
as his hand went up to his hair and rubbed his head nervously, avoiding
eye contact. Little did he know that there were three Imperial
stormtroopers standing right outside the door. "Sorry about this," Derek
said to the cook, as he took the butt of his QuickSnap 36T carbine and
slammed it against the back of his head. "Just don't want this to come
back to haunt me later," he said as he kicked the man in the spleen not
once, but twice, for good measure. He had a feeling next time he came in
he should not order any soup on the menu.
"Sprocket? Sprocket." Kane said as the constant, almost subliminal hum
was no longer in her ears. The transmission was dead. As soon as her
signal to Sprocket was suddenly cut off, she knew that the Astromech
would immediately begin scanning frequencies to try to find a band that
would cut through the interference. She had 30 minutes to either
reestablish contact or Sprocket would begin to worry. Looking around,
she wondered what was going on as Derek powered up the sled she stopped
leaning on. "Imperial warrant?" she asked, genuinely puzzled as she
tilted her head and caught the credit chip, placing it into one of the
Velcro pouches on her belt after inspecting it. It was the agreed
amount. She stood back as the commander apologized to the cook, and then
almost shouted when he attacked the unarmed man! "What the hell are you
doing? What's going on!"she suspected something very strange was
happening, and so her voice was lowered to almost a whisper as she
reached for her hip holsters, unbuttoning the twin blasters, but not
drawing them. She had her money, he had his goods. That was the end of
the business transaction.
"What's going on?" Derek responded, as he started to get the cargo
containers ready. He was glad they were marked food, and hoped they
would not suspect anything. "What's going on is that we've got eight
creates of illegal arms in a Cantina crawling with Stormtroopers. In
case you weren't aware ... this is fairly against Imperial law," he
concluded, and with that he let out a loud huff and began to push the
repulsor sled out the back door of the cantina from which he had came.
Oh dear ... he thought as he spotted three Imperial Stormtroopers and his
stomach began to churn uncomfortably. "Nice evening," he said to them,
as he began pushing the crates that were clearly marked food, attempting
to pass the troopers and enter the alleyway.
One Stormtrooper at the back entrance turned towards the man pushing
the crates, as the other two raised they're E-11s from guard position.
The lead trooper began to walk towards the man with the crates,
<Click>"Sir, please return to the cantina, with your crates and have
your papers ready."<Click> He said, as the speaker cut off the rest of
Jane thought fast. Grabbing one of the aprons that was hanging up on
a wall hook she did not even tie it around her waist, instead just
wrapping the long cloth strands around herself once. the apron
effectively obscured the blasters from the front and side, but not back.
Hearing the Stormtrooper helmet filtered audio sound telling the
commander to get back inside, she quickly hopped out as if he forgot
something. "Papa, wait! Can I go to the orphanage too!" she said in as
little girlish a voice as she could muster. When she saw the troopers,
she tried to look frightened, and grabbed at the jacket of the commander
and hid herself a bit, giving a genuine performance of being frightened.
Well, while the Imperial forces were busy focusing on Carson, Jace
was making his way to the back door, ensuring the shipment made it out.
Taking a quick survey of the surroundings, and spotting the three
troopers near his equipment gave an excellent opportunity to create a
distraction for Carson. The modified blaster pistol came up and out, and
two shots were fired into the Troopers' backs that were clear. The
remaining trooper would be fired on and finished off a moment later.
"Alright you two, get out of here and let's get that shipment out before
more show up!"
A bolt took the lead Stormtrooper in the back of the head at the base
of the helmet. The second trooper took a blaster bolt into the middle of
his back, between the chest plate and the utility belt, and the third
trooper went down as the stun coil fired, and went off completely
opposite of Atio's location.
"Why is it every time I'm around you everyone drops dead?" Derek
yelled to Athol as he turned, his attention towards the female smuggler.
"Get back to your ship and disappear," he instructed her as his hand
moved to his pocket and handed her another 5,000 credit chip to ensure
she would keep silent. He was quickly going through the last of the
Alderaanian credits and he would have to find a new source of income or
they would all be eating bread and blue milk for the foreseeable future.
"I'll get word to you for the next shipment when they're not trying to
kill us," he said to her with one final nod of his head, as he began to
push the repulsor sled away from the scene.
"So much for my big plan..." Jane mumbled as she took the credit
chit, stuck it with the other one and gave him a big grin. "Nice doing
business with ya, but I'm gonna stick with you until I get out of
whatever signal interference I'm getting," she said as she decided that
the best course of action would be to stick around him. If anything, the
much larger man made an effective blaster shield. Setting the Death
Hammer pistols still in their holsters to kill, she kept them there, and
kept the apron on. Maybe they could still fool any other troopers they
Derek let out a tired sigh as he looked at the smuggler, and began
moving the repulsor sled as far away from the Cantina at best possible
speed. He could hear blaster fire in the Unlucky Star and wanted no part
of it. They needed to get as far away as possible before more Imperial
troops arrived. "Fine," he said to her, as they turned the corner, and
moved onto a busy street in the low class neighborhood of Cormond. "Just
keep quiet and don't kill anyone!" he warned her, as he looked over the
large crates of illicit firearms, explosives, and weapons components
that he would somehow have to hide. This had just been an awful night,
and what made it worse was that he had yet to have his dinner.
Jane grinned and kept her eyes open. "I don't wanna kill anyone
anyway pops, I'm out once this interference clears," her head was on a
turret, crimson eyes darting from left to right, above them, and her
long pointed ears were npt just for decoration. She heard the blaster
fire and explosions, and similarly wanted no part in the little battle
either. She was ready to fry a white helmet or six though, her hand was
twitching as they rest at her sides. "Do you know why the interference
is there?" she asked with a hint of irritation. It was only five minutes
or so, but she did not like being out of contact with her ship or
"The interference is what's designed to save our butts," Derek
explained as they began to move beyond the range of the jamming device.
The static on the transmitters would slowly begin to fade as
communications were once again restored to their area. "I think we're
coming out of it now," he said, as he continued to push his repulsor
sled through the busy streets of Cormond. He felt ridiculous, and by now
the poor man was covered in sweat, as he had walked further than he had
in years. He leaned hard against the controls of the sled, keeping
himself propped up as he used it for support. "You going to be able to
find the way back to your ship?" he asked, in-between desperate gasps of
air. He was trying to remember where he was, and whether or not there
was anywhere nearby he could secure the cargo. Blast, he thought ... he
was on the wrong side of town.
"Are you going to survive?" she asked, genuinely concerned for the
older mans health. He certainly was breathing heavy, and sweating more
than a tauntaun on Tatooine during mid day. "Sprocket. Tap into the
spaceport computer system and find a map of the city, than send it to my
datapad," the reply was not heard, but she retorted after a moment,
sounding angry. "Than search another place. There 'has' to be a map of
this place, its a spaceport town ... I don't care if you need to hack
the passkey, just do it discreetly. Mirror through the spaceport so it
looks like they did it," she pulled her four by four inch datapad out of
her hip pocket and flipped up the protective cover. After a moment, a
map of the city popped up ... a map that she showed Derek. "Can you use
this map to find your way to where you need to be, or call your
friends?" she asked.
"I'll be fine ... thanks," Derek said sarcastically as the woman
criticized his behavior. Truthfully, he was not in the best of shape,
but he tried not to think about it. For a Commander in the Rebel
Alliance he really did not present very well. He removed the bantha hide
jack to reveal the dark brown shirt underneath, and made use of it's
sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. Once that had been accomplished,
he turned his attention to her datapad and examined it closely. "They
must be monitoring the comm frequencies," he speculated as he wondered
how they had come into this predicament. "You'd best put that comm away
unless you want to end up on an Imperial penal colony like Berea," he
explained to her as he traced a sweaty finger over the datapad screen
until he found a condemned building in which he could hide the materials
for the time being. "Thank you," he said to her tiredly, as he handed
the datapad back to her.
Jane grinned and took the datapad back, wiping the screen off with a
small rag in a zipper pouch on the cover of the pad. "The comlink
signals piggyback off of other transmissions in a spaceport. I doubt
they'll pick it up." she looked at the map herself, and than patted him
on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, and contact me again if you
need another shipment of foodstuffs, I know a place in Coronet to get
some delicious Corellian apples. They're to die for." she said with a
wink, and she ducked into an alley. A small little chip came flying from
the shadows of that alley, and *thunk*ed Derek in the forehead before
falling onto the sled controls. It was the second credit chip he'd given
her. The agreed amount was five thousand, not ten, and she would not
take a single credit more. Giggling, she quickly and discreetly made her
way back to her ship. When the ramp lowered, a loud, blaring digital
barrage of music came blasting out. "Sprocket!" she shouted above the
din, and ran inside. by the time the black ship took off, the music had
Ithan's eyes came to settle on Rake in the distance, he pointed him
out of everyone, "You, sir, could you please place both hands onto the
table, and be prepared to present your identification." Ithan said, with
a nod to the two troopers, that started to approach his table.
Goodwin did not like this Captain at all, he felt as if he was
attempting to make a name for himself, jumping almost at every chance
that night to go out into the field, and prove himself. Leroy had worked
hard for this position, and it allowed him to feed his family with a
Carson began to comply, his hands slowly working their way out of his
pockets. He smiled compliantly, and took in his surroundings as he
thumbed the frag grenade to life in his pocket. His right hand was
working its way around the pistol grip of the GGP-Z22 carbine, its
safety already thumbed to auto. As his left hand came out of the pocket
from beneath the table, he spoke to try to distract the officer from his
actions. Not that it would matter, of course. "Absolutely, sir. I have
every intention of cooperation, Captain. It appears you have me at a
disadvantage." And with that, Carson rolled the fragmentation grenade
out under the table, then flipped up the durasteel table to act as a
barrier. Even as he ducked behind it he was bringing up the GGP,
gripping it tightly into his shoulder as he prepared for the ensuing
chaos. Mentally, he began counting, and wondered just how long the
officer would take to respond. Normally it took about a half a second to
process information and react. That'd be ample time to get himself down
behind the cover and to roll the grenade out, but would it be enough to
catch the officer and the sergeant in the blast? Who knew. He supposed
he'd find out.
Ithan was near the entrance of the cantina, far away from the
explosion. He flipped over a durasteel table, as he yelled towards the
man that just through the grenade. "Surrender!" he yelled towards him,
as he covered his eyes, because he knew what was coming next.
The two troopers who were closing in on Rake were knocked onto their
backs from the explosion and were barely able to get on their feet as
they scrambled for their E-11s.
Goodwin, had already taken cover beside Ithan, and had a flash bang
grenade out, he pulled the pin, and cooked the grenade before tossing it
oer the durasteel table, and letting it's arch land a few feet away from
Carson watched as the flash bang sailed over and bounced of the wall,
coming to a stop a few feet out of his reach. He scrambled to put on his
polarized goggles. He'd honestly never thought he'd have to use the damn
things, but there's a time for everything. He would still have to deal
with his hearing being off, but so would the imperials. He covered his
ears tightly, hunching low until the blast passed. Carson popped up from
behind his cover immediately, as he knew the Stormtroopers on the other
side would as well. In essence, it was a race to see who would act
first. The first one up would have the advantage, and Carson always
aimed to be first. The major threat was the two Stormtroopers recovering
from his frag. Carson immediately put two rounds into each of their
chests, the silenced slugthrower rifle making its telltale report. They
were not ever truly 'silenced,' anyway. More or less, it was like
slamming a book down on the ground. Once he had dealt with that threat,
he shifted to the table, where the remaining two troopers, the Captain
and the Sergeant, were hunkered down. He let loose several bursts,
trying to keep them pinned. All he had to do was buy time for his
buddies to get out of there, in order to keep them from being identified
The two troopers that were getting up had barely gotten their
bearings as the flash bang went off. Without the aid of the MFTAS, the
sealed helmets were useless, and they were stunned. A few seconds later,
Carson's shots rang out, taking one trooper in a spot between his chest,
the slug collapsing a lung. Since the helmet was sealed to the bodyglove,
the blood that sprayed forth covered the interior of the helmet. The
second trooper took a shot that pierced his chest plate and turned his
stomach to bantha meat.
Ithan looked like he felt his moment of glory was fleeting,
everything had gone horribly wrong, he could not believe it. He heard
the fall of his two troopers, and cursed beneath his breath. "Sergeant
Goodwin do something!" He said, as he fired off a random shot at
Sergeant Goodwin, removed a glop grenade from his belt, this time he
waited a few seconds cooking the grenade in his hand, before tossing it
over the durasteel table, towards the kitchen.
Carson did not stick around for this one. With a final burst, he
bolted for the back door, running lateral to the two men behind the
table and away from the kitchen. He wasn't about to get stuck in this
Cantina, a living doll for the empire's evil intentions. He ran with
everything he had, firing the weapon on auto across his body as he did,
doing his level bet to keep the two pinned so he didn't get shot in the
back. With the cook off, he would probably have two, maybe three seconds
to close the distance and clear the radius, but with the obstructions
and people in the bar, that'd be drastically reduced in size. He hit the
back door running, literally crashing into the durasteel with his
shoulder, and tumbled outside.
The blast impacted around the entrance covering the entire doorway.
Ithan, stood up, and turned towards the Sergeant. "You fool, you've just
assisted in they're escape!" He yelled at the Sergeant, and went to use
his comm unit, getting only static, he cursed loudly, and tossed it
Goodwin was already on the move, making his way through the upturned
tables towards the entrance he made it half way up the steps, before
stopping to use it as cover.
Speeding into the area at the back at the cantina would have been the
huge furred Yuzzem, Vek. He was pissed and it could be told but he was
sticking to orders. The heavy weapon specialist had it floored until he
saw the door. Luckily, this was prearranged seems they thought of
everything. What exactly did he pull up in? The A-A5 speeder truck.
Being heavily plated with armor and even having a gun mounted on the top
to defend itself if need be. Vek was in a hurry to get out of there. He
didn't want to have to rage out on a whole crow and start ripping
smaller beings limb from limb. He was waiting for someone to get in and
take the wheel, he called out to them. "Hurry!" Said deeply and beast
like as he simply waited for someone to take control. He was not the
brains of any operation by far.
Carson stumbled to the speeder, literally falling into it. His
shoulder was killing him from the impact with the door, and he thought
he might have taken a grazing shot from that damned sergeant. As soon as
he hit the bed, he slammed the back of the cab with the butt of his
weapon. "Drive, damn it! And let's not get seen if you can manage it!"
This whole thing had fallen apart. He knew he should have insisted on
better OpSec, but Atio had been reluctant to drop the supplies into the
middle of nowhere, what with the increased monitoring of air traffic
these days. Regardless, they should have just had him leave the supplies
somewhere, sit on the pilot, and wait for them to check it out in a day
or so, just to be safe. Instead, they had insisted on this happy bantha
poodoo, and now he was paying the price. He would be sure to redress the
parties involved later, but for now, they would make do. Hell, it was
his fault anyway. As the NCOIC, he should have put his foot down. He had
to get used to this whole command thing again.
He heard the order and simple nodded. Looks like he was driving.
Carson appeared hurt and Vek was not the most skilled driver but he
would try. He would simply pick up a moderate speed with the truck and
turn the corner. Those eyes of his locked on the area in front of him,
but his voice rang out. "You look pretty banged up..." Now if it had
been him that had nailed the door he would of took it off the hinges
anyway the Yuzzem kept it steady and tried to be discreet.
The two transports turned their turrets towards the direction of A-A5
and started firing volley after volley after the fleeing craft.
Vek actually turned as they emerged from the alleyway to the left coming
out into the street it was long before he turned and began heading back
towards the cantina then a right turn would allow them to hit another
back alleyway. He kept a pretty steady route. Back alleys, narrow roads.
This was the perfect get away. Vek would keep his thoughts to himself.
The heavy weapons trained Yuzzem tended to keep most things to himself,
though when the time came to it, he'd always try to pull it off.
Goodwin got up as the shots from the Imperial transports miss over
and over again. He looked to one of the men that was standing guard
outside. <Click>"We better do a head count. I'm sure I'm not going to
hear the end of this."<Click> he said, glad that the helmet masked the
sour look on his face.
Ithan's right boot crushed a shot glass, beneath the heel, as he
righted himself and holstered the DH-17. He calmly walked outside and
could see in the distance the Rebel transport making it's way through
the streets and with it he could feel his hope of glory and holo news
feeds vanishing. He also could feel a lump being pushed down through his
throat after his Uncle got wind of what exactly happened.