Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Brandon Barnes, Josh Barton, Andrew J. Fowler, Christopher Levy, Stephen Lewis, and Shawn Lovelett.
Zero years after the Battle of Yavin (35:4:35) in the Brentaal system: Brentaal IV (Cormond: Dagon Tong' safe house, Spaceport, and The Unlucky Star) and Heretic's Avenger.
Corporal Jason Athol, Commander Derek Atio, Sergeant Major Rake Carson, Sergeant Leroy Goodwin, Jane Minersha, Captain Ithan Tavers, and Corporal Vek.

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 surface.

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 Carson.

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 the cannons.

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 his speech.

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 came across!

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 Sprocket.

"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 stopped.

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 decent income.

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 Rake.

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 as Rebels.

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 Carson's direction.

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 aside.

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.

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