Leaderboard

Qessax growled slightly as he signaled back to the others still on the ship. A few hand gestures made his commands known. Stay, guard the ship, kill potential liabilities, be ready to move. Silence was key. He was almost excited to actually be in the field again like this. However, he was not fully happy. The Knights had made their move towards the slavers and the slaves. Their desires were too evident to the Imperial Agent. Hopefully, they would be effective. The slavers didn’t seem to notice the Knights yet, but with their adapted eyes, the darkness was a bright day for them. Their whips were still activated, and their focus was still on the slaves. Qessax did feel an ounce of pity for them. His own people had their own history of slavery, and these slavers were being forced to work in unsafe and unsanitory conditions that even a Bolosar would be uncomfortable. One of the slavers did stop and peer around him. Having heard something, the Umbaran peered through the shadows like it was day time, seeking a noise he may or may not have imagined. The other five slavers continued their own work, while the slaves continued on, many on the brink of falling unconscious from exhaustion. Qessax refocused himself. The Knights would do as they saw fit. If they messed up anything too badly, at least they could be a distraction. Instead, he worked himself with the clones, following their steps and guiding where he could. He eventually broke off and found himself a perch where he could see most of the hangar, and the others. He had one thing the others didn’t fully have: the schematics of the ship memorized like the back of his hand. He would be a lookout and a guide where he could. “Wing Guard…” Qessax whispered into his comm. “Be watching those corners of the walls. Umbarans have been known to use modified Millicreep droids to patrol areas they can’t post soldiers at. If you are spotted, its done for. It was then he saw the first complication of the mission. He had to adjust his night binoculars to make sure he was seeing it correctly, but his hunter senses told him more than enough. Like a hunter tracking a muumuu, he could track this target. “Team…” Qessax whispered into his comm for the whole team of clones, mercenaries, guards and Knights. “One of the power suits is moving toward the ship. Time of contact 1 minute. Need a distraction. Nothing too noisy, but something to pull the thing away”