Leaderboard

Darth Mavanger didn't know what Inmortos had in mind, but his own objective had been accomplished. The Helvault had been breached, and Apothos had been retrieved. Anything past that was secondary to getting those who had accompanied him off the station. He pushed through, just behind the wake of the remaining Sith forces as they filed towards the hangar. Upon their arrival, he swiftly boarded, firing up the engines of the craft. "Brace yourselves." As the Helvault plummeted towards the planet, a glowing meteor hurtling towards it's inevitable demise, the shuttle rocketed out. To the naked eye, it seems no more than a piece broken loose by the forces of re-entry. Yet another pillar of the false peace of the Rebels and their government- More willing to consign the souls aboard to death than to give them a chance at freedom. The shuttle rattled violently as they escaped the vortex left behind by what was now a glorified fireball. He stood, removing his mask and moving to the passenger section of the craft. Their allies would be here soon, and there was much to be discussed. He nodded his head at the new arrivals, his eyes decades older than they had been months past. "Krath Apothos. Did you think I would let an ally rot in a cell? It seems you made an ally of your own while inside." he said, motioning to the unknown party with a gauntleted hand. "We lost much at Mon Cal, and at Nar Shaddaa. Now, we rebuild."

The umbaran mechanic nearly jumped at the sound of the metal that fell from above, even inside his protective armor. The crosswire beam echoed throughout the hangar, making the slaves who were working jump, and even their slaving masters had to pause before getting the slaves back into gear. “Well, not what i expected, but not bad” Qessax whispered into his comms, confident that what had just happened was because of his team mates. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the Force users, but he wasn’t going to admit that yet. The Umbaran mechanic, sufficiently distracted, went to investigate the fallen metal. Once he found the piece, he began to scan above, making sure there was no risk of any further potential accidents. Still, the slavers were disturbed, and more then a few slaves were taking advantage in the lull of enforcement to take a break. Some of the slavers had lost all focus on the slaves and were glancing around. Something was off. One of them was even leaving the slaves under another slaver's care to investigate the area. Nobody could pinpoint it, but something felt off to them. “Vangar, i believe you should be near the command station by now. I’m transferring some of the security codes to you. Hopefully, they can open the doors, but I can’t say anything about the men inside. My guess is their leader is getting ready to start the ship up soon.” Little did Qessax realize how true that was. Even as Tyr sipped at his drink, one of the mechanics alerted him it would only be a few more minutes before the engines were operational. “Hold on…” Qessax breathed into his comm, raising his sensors up to his eyes again. “Looks like we got some slaves making a move from their group. Tilt, they are moving in your direction. You boys better hurry up whatever you are doing. We are close and i don’t want to muck this up now. If they make too much noise,…” Qessax didn't want to even think of the consequences of failure of stealth. ____________ Tyr congratulated the mechanic nearby for a job well done. A promotion was incoming for everyone, that was for certain. Once the engines started in less then ten minutes, the ship would be maneuvered towards the planet and within their fleet of smaller craft for protection “Sir, two of our drones just went out. I’m not sure why…” Tyr furrowed his brow. The last known location of the drones were very close. Too close. No, he was not about to lose his promotion. Not when he was this close to perfect completion. “Get some men up here to check it out. And seal the bridge. I don’t want a stray mynock to get in here and muck everything up. No, not the blast doors, just seal it tight, as a precaution.”

“Bloody hell!” Chrissie hissed, nearly dropping her computer as she jerked herself forwards around a blind corner of the catwalk. A pair of softly clinking robotic insects scurried down the wall from higher up in the catacombing catwalks . Only the Wing Guard’s hostile-mobile-armaments sensors soft buzzing had tipped her off in time. Still, her hiss seemed to have drawn the droids’ attention as they paused, their sensors sweeping the area. At the entryway, Vangar watched across the darkened bay. Everyone on his team seemed to be functioning properly; a surprise to say the least. The slaver that approached their ship would beed to be dealt with. He hoped that Qessax’ agents could handle it. His shotgun at this range would be more a distraction than needed. And the. It happened. Above them, in the dark, a beam seemed to break loose. The faint bending of worn metal was all that foretold the rapidly plummeting chaos. Vangar’s eyes widened as he ducked back into the access bay. He slid the panel shut in front of his very eyes. It sealed with a hiss as if he had never even been in the hangar bay at all. It was then that he heard the faint clatter as the telltale scan of the patrolling assassin droids pinged in his ear and across his heads up display. With a pneumatic hiss, Vangar slung his scattergun. In the same motion a pair of elongated songsteel blades found their way to his hands, drawn from the back of the warrior’s waist. A red light began to flash on one of the miniature droids as it sensed the threat that the obscured Barabel presented. Meanwhile the second continued to scan, convinced it had sensed another. Springing forward, Vangar was airborne in an instant. A momentary burn of his rocket boots carried him the extra distance even as the droid raised it’s electrified tail to strike. The Barabel did not need the force, a lifetime of combat training and hunting having honed his skills. His blades flashed in tandem. His left hand lashed out in a jabbing arc to bisect the tail from the body of the droid; all the while his right plunged forward, driving straight through the insect-sized bot leaving nothing but a sparking front and back of the droid as it clattered over the railing and down into the depths. Clink. Clank. Pitter. Patter. He did not stop to admire his work, the second droid whirring about, it’s energized scorpioned tail lashing forward. The electricity arced across the elegant silvery blade as Vangar brought both blades across the second droid sending pieces of it in opposite directions. Spinning about and dropped into a predatory stance, the Barabel’s eyes and sensors looked for other threats. He did not see any, for the moment. ”Are you alright?” He hissed to Chrissie as he lowered his blades. ”Aye,” she nodded, eyes slightly widened at the surprising dissolution of the immediate threat. “Thanks boss.” She pointed up a runged ladder nearby, her finger running a path along a catwalk three stories above them until it intersected with a computer console. “Gotta get up there.” She moved towards the ladder and began to climb. Vangar moved towards the ladder as well, sheathing his blades once again. He waited until Chrissie was at the next level the he began to climb. As he reached the second level he paused, his HUD illuminating another insectoid droid a ways down the walkway. In the shadows, the Viceroy paused. He did not tense a muscle beneath his armor, as if that would do anything to hide him any further. It felt like an eternity before the droid moved onwards and out of sight. He began to climb again, not stopping until he made the desired landing shorty after Chrissie. The Wing Guard hurried forward until she reached the console. Carefully she began to examine the entire system. She ran her hands along the edges of the console where intersected with the wall. She dug her fingers into a panel that swung open at a push, fishing out a wad of wires. Standing on her tiptoes, the technician peered at the twisted wires. With a careful fingernail, she separated the third white wire from the others. Pulling a clipper from one of her numerous pockets, she cut the wire. Nothing seemed to happen. No alarms were triggered. Lowering back to her heels, Chrissie pulled her hacking equipment from her satchel and set it on a durasteel deck plate adjacent to the viewscreen. She set to work, her fingers flying from her equipment to the console and back, her eyes darting back and forth as she entered a trance-like state. Vangar stood a half dozen steps back, letting the woman work. He scanned the area cognizant for threats. It would take several minutes and then they would be on their way to their next objective. All Chrissie had to do here was input a couple strands of code that would disabled the locks across the ship. Then it was on towards the command station within the sphere. It was going to be a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG walk.