Log:Array Consortium: Bunker Busted

Bunker Busted

Location: Nar Shaddaa, Bunker 21 Lounge
Participants: Sion, Tamrae, Aola Ziveri, Meep

A simple girl's night out at the Bunker turns into horror as the Kandaka Blades wreak bloody revenge.

Most nights, the Bunker is a busy club - tonight it's especially hopping, with the music up loud and a shockball tourney being beamed from Corellia drawing a /lot/ of fans tonight. People are rowdy, security's tougher than usual - in the background, maybe, but palpably /there/. A good time is having had by all, and it's still very early.

Near the VIP area, Sion is assisting security as best she can. While her weapon remains at her side, she's still watching the crowds and trying to help coordinate responses. While they're trying to be low-key, they /have/ had to eject one or two people for getting disorderly.

Hopefully that isn't one about to be disorderly enough to be tossed out, over by the viewing kiosk. Hopefully.

Aola Ziveri isn't really security, she's not even a captain, so the Twi'lek herself is just relaxing herself and watching the game she couldn't really follow while her fingertip danced over the datapad in her hand. On the screen? She was cycling through the specs of several well-known fightercraft, a little sigh and lazy twitch of her lekku suggesting she was more 'window shopping' than considering a real purchase.

Meep wanders the club.... though not to no purpose! Clutched in both hands is his bright orange bouncy ball.. the one he always seems to carry about. He weaves through the crowd till he finds himself standing behind and waaay below Aola, holding up his ball towards her insistingly, "Oot!"

Tamrae is neither security or a pilot! But she does like having a relaxed place to hang out after she gets off work sometimes, and since other members of the Array are often here, well, here she is. She steps in, looking around, then gets a faint flush as she sees Aola, sighing. Well, she already saw her fall asleep the other night and drool on Navi's shoulder...no getting around that, so best not to let it bother her. She wanders over towards the VIP area, waving to Aola as she does, then smiling at Sion. "Hey Sion. On security detail today?"

Sion had only just noticed Meep and Aola... but her attention is quickly caught by Tam and her smile. "Hey, Tam! Not really, but they didn't object to me helping out," she replies, shrugging and patting her earbug comlink. "Wish I'd worn my armor, though."

She nods towards Aola and Meep. "Want to go over and join them? I'm about due for a break, really."

Aola herself looks up as she's insistantly 'ooked' at, switching off her datapad and giving a little chuckle before she bends down to take the ball. "Probably not the best place to play with this, you might get underfoot." A warm smile, she offers the ball back with a sidelong look towards Sion and Tam. The former gets a light shrug of her shoulders and a mouthed 'I have no idea what's going on', but the later? She gets a moment of hesitation and then that same warm smile. "Heya Tam."

Meep grumps, ears drooping a bit as he nods slowly in agreement. He plops down on his rump, holding his ball against his chest a moment before he sloooowly rolls to his side. He remains still for a moment, just hugging his ball before he spies Aola's boots! He waits.. glancing upwards, making sure Aola's attention is on the others before scootching over towards her boots, leaning in close to try to gnaw on her laces.

Tam looks over, faintly flushing still as she meets Aola's eyes and returns the smile. "Um, sure, we'll meetcha over there when yer off then?" she offers looking back to Sion, giving Sion a pat on the side. "Try not ta work too hard!" she adds cheerfully, then heads over to join the other pair, her pointed ears twitching back slightly, a little nervously. "Um, hi again. Sorry I fell asleep on ya last night." she admits sheepishly. "I guess I was more tired than I thought..." She'd normally be keeping an eye on Meep and what he's up to, but for the moment she's distracted by trying to make up for being a goober in front of Aola the night before, and THAT is obviously a matter of life and death that could make or break her teenage life if she doesn't deal with that first. Because Aola is cool an' stuff, and thus someone she actually worries about judging her poorly.

Meanwhile, the shockball tourney is getting rough - the Kimoglas are beating down the Savrips, the latter being the favor to win this bracket; there's a certain energy starting to build, frustration and drink...perhaps not violence, but there's pressure building, like before a summer storm. It only takes a single match to set off a tar barrel, and if the score keeps going the way it is, things are liable to get sticky.

"Join you in a second," Sion promises Tam, giving Aola an encouraging smile over the Codru-Ji's shoulder. She doesn't either, really. She wasn't there for The Drooling.

And a glance around the room reveals that things are not heading for a good end. There are a lot of Savrips jerseys in the crowd tonight, and the score, while not an outright squash, is careening towards a painful defeat for the local favorite. <Watch those Savrips fans,> she cautions into the mic, just in case any of the security crew haven't worked game nights before. <S'not looking good for their side.>

The drooling? It hadn't really bothered the pilot, even if the blue woman had seemed...well, a little bit blue. "You don't need to apologise for falling asleep snuggled up to your girlfriend Tamrae," Aola speaks, giving a little wave of her hand while her gaze is drawn down towards Meep and his gnawing. "Quit it!" she half-hisses at the little guy, giving a half-hearted kick with her leg. "I just bought these a month ago!"

Meep gets the chewy boot removed from his mouth, "Nyah!" he chitters, rolling away with the kick so it's more of a shove really. With this source of entertainment taken, he pushes himself to his feet.. searching for something else to do. Then.. he spies Tamrae! Well, her leg. Bending slightly at the waist, his rump gives a little wiggle before he leaps! Pouncing against Tamrae's leg gently and booping his forehead against her shin.

Adding insult to injury, the Kimoglias land another goal - there's a shout that rises from among the Savrip fans, mingled disbelief and anger. The Kimoglia supporters are laughing, cheering, and seemingly unaware of the subtle divide that's going on over on the floor. People are starting to separate, going into camps, on their feet as they stare at the giant monitor. That tar barrel is starting to fill...

Tamrae flushes. "Well...friend, yes, I'm not sure if we're girlfriends or...what. I mean, she already has one, so at least friend that I don't mind being...snuggly with." the Codru-Ji offers, babbling a bit. "I mean...when I was freaking out she was trying to calm me down and touching...really helps, you know? Just...I don't know why." she admits, kicking a toe at the floor a bit. "But, um, you were....you seemed kinda down, though? An' I wanted to see if ya were okay today."

Tam oofs as Meep grabs her leg, then smiles down at him, relaxing a little bit as she pauses to scritch him. "Hey buddy, been a while since I've seen you off the ship..."

The accelerant is pouring... and there's a match there someplace. Sion begins making her way around the room, patting a lot of Savrip-colored shoulders as she goes. "Hey... just a game, ya know? If it doesn't turn around, you know The Bunker offers a Consolation Round on game nights, right? On the house." She gives the little gathering of her friends a concerned glance, trying not to get too far away. But it's a /big/ room, and there are a lot of shoulders to rub.

Meep beams as he is scritched, looking across and up at Aola all smug-like. See? This is how to appease the Meep. Still clinging to Tam's leg, he sort of leans to the side to peer round, looking over at Sion as she approaches the group. With a worried chitter, he tugs on Tam's pantleg a bit and then points over towards Sion. (reposes)

Well, seems Aola has a bit to lean in understanding her 'Meep-fu', but her head isn't quite in the right place for it at the moment. Instead she blinks at Tamrae's words and opens her mouth for a moment before closing it again. "I'm okay. I will be...I think. I just need some time to go flying and clear my head."

Aola's reaction causes Tamrae to look a bit more unsure of herself. "Are...are ya sure? I mean...I'm a pretty good listener. If ya wanted. I can not talk at all an' just let you talk and...stuff like that?" she says, inwardly wincing at herself as she devolves towards babbling again around the Twi'lek pilot. "Um, if...huh?" The last comes when Meep tugs on her trousers, causing her to look down, then over where he's pointing, blinking a bit at Sion's expression. "What's wrong?" she says uncertainly, belatedly taking in the tension in the room near the game."

Sion's efforts seem to work miracles on the attitudes of the Savrips - though still surly, the smoky-eyed Socorran is apparently just what the doctor ordered to settle the angry sports fans a little bit. She gets pulled into the throng, however, and she's being plied with beer and other things in 'gratitude' for her services. The occasional feel might get copped when she's not looking, too. Jerks.

At least the fuse is snuffed for the moment... though Sion's not sure if the alternative's much better. She's managed to refuse most of the offered drinks, though her clothes are a bit mussed from the crowd. And from a few unwanted hands in places she'd prefer they weren't. "Thank you, no... I'm on duty," she says to yet another fan, waving away a tankard.

The Twi'lek opens her mouth again, then closes it once mroe before biting her lip. "Sure, that'd be nice. Maybe later? When we're not in a bar full of angry sports fans and..." she trails off, spotting Sion's plight and cracking a smile. "Our friend doesn't need our help." Maybe she'd seen Meep's pointing. Leaning over the couch she'd been resting near, the woman gives a light whistle. "Hands to yourselves folks! Her boyfriend is as big as a wookie and and angry as a Rancor!"

Alright, so that -might- be stretching the truth.

"I'd just enjoy the game if I were you."

Meep watches Sion getting pulled into the group of ragamuffins! His tugging takes on a more alarmed rapidity, as if saying, 'DO SOMETHING!'. Buuuut, it seems Sion's all right in the end. Meep, still a little worried, clasps his hands together and just frets, leaning against Tam's leg a little... for moral support.

Oh, Tam is well aware of the 'accidental' hands...it's happened to her, and seeing it happen to Sion, causes her ears to perk forward and a low growl coming from her throat as her dark eyes follow Sion extricating herself. She relaxes slightly when she's out, going back to scritching Meep with one of her lower hands as he leans against her as she relaxes slightly. But still seems on edge now, watching alertly as Sion pulls free. She does finally shake it off and turn back to Aola. "Um, sure...yeah, when we can find someplace quiet." Tam says, smiling shyly, perking up a bit at the response. She grins a bit at the assertion of Sion having a wookie Rancor boyfriend, giggling a bit as her ears tilt back to a more neutral position.

Somehow...it happens. Somehow. Amid the crowd, someone rises - a human man, thin, sallow, anonymous. He looks around the group of sports supporters, draws back his lips, baring teeth filed to razor points. He lifts his hand, something silver in his grip. His thumb twitches.

He disappears in a cloud of blood, and a wall of flames, concussion, and razor-sharp fragments follow.

When the world explodes, a wall of force and shattered metal throws you all to the ground amid the cacaphony of destruction. Moments pass - or minutes, or hours, who can tell? - as your senses buzz and shudder in active protest against reality's carpet being pulled out from beneath you. Dazed at the very least, you begin to come back to yourselves as the explosion passes. The first sound you hear is the shrill sound of a fire alarm, and next the first groans of pain of someone else in the club, then another. Someone gasps, then dies wetly not far from Aola's sprawled body. Sion awakens in a sea of gore and corpses, covered with the remnants of the Savrip supporters who took the blast in her stead. Meep, blessedly, is just blown under an upended table, entirely safe, if with a serious headache.

As for poor Tamrae, she was close enough - or perhaps just tall enough - to suffer some of the explosion's wrath. She is roused by a brilliant, white-hot surge of pain in her side, as a six-inch sliver of durasteel blossoms there. Blood soaks her shirt, and agony spreads through her torso like ripples from a stone in a lake. Still others may survive, but the smell of smoke and blood and burning flesh is heavy in the air.

Sion slowly pushes the shredded body of one of the fans off of her, wincing at some residual pains from her hard landing. And several hard landings on top of her. At least she's alive!

She slowly looks around, rising as far as a kneeling position.

Gods... what happened in here? "Aola? Tam? Meep? Anybody?" she asks, keying her mic just in case someone's alive to answer.

Aola groans, climbing to her knees. She ached, she hurt, but she wasn't -really- hurt. "What happened?" she asks in the daze, explosion still ringing in her ears before she attempts to get to her feet. She can hear Sion...sort of, it takes her a moment to really register what she was hearing. "I'm here!" she call's back. "I'm alright I-..." the Twi'lek trails off with a gasp as her eyes fall on Tamrae and immediately she's moving, skidding through the chaos around the club to come to the woman's side. "Medic!" she calls franticly, more out of habbit while she tries to search for something to stop the bleeding or to help. She was a fighter pilot, not one of the doctors!

There's not really a clear chain of events for Tamrae. One moment she's talking with Aola and patting Meep as Sion makes her way over...and next she's on the floor, and her ears are ringing so badly she can't make anything out. She doesn't know how she got there, dazed, and deafened considering her keep hearing. Her pointed ears are folded back as she starts to push herself up, then the white hot blade of pain shoots up her back, drawing a startled gasp than a pained whimper as her eyes glaze for a moment as she starts to pant, her blood starting to puddle under her. She gets a confused look as Aola lands by her. "...A...A'la..." she manages as she blinks rapidly, before her cheek hits the floor again as the energy seems to go out of her, another faint pained whine coming from her lips.

Meep hardly has time to react before he's flying through the air and under the table! He bumps his head, stunning him a little and causing his world to spin! Not quite understanding what happened.. or why.. or how.. he's sort of dazed, rolling over onto his side and rubbing the big gooseegg on his head, blinking as he tries to orient himself from under the table.

All around the alarms blare, louder and louder as your senses return - and the world returns to being. The club itself has been rendered into a charnel floor: the dead litter the floor, scattered parts injured bodies unmoving and waking to slowly crawl in confusion and agony alike. Shards of metal are everywhere - in the bar, in the floor, the walls. Flickering lights and damaged monitors grant only flashes of horror, fortunate for you all.

Security reacts, or what's left of them, a handful of beings in light armor stumbling forward to try and assist the wounded. Nevertheless, there is a moment where people can catch half a breath...until the gunfire erupts from the VIP area. Blaster fire. Chemical firearms. More screams, and the monstrous roaring of something in the back. Someting reptilian.

Hearing Aola shouting, Sion rises and stumbles toward the wounded Codru-Ji. "Gods... Aola, how is she hurt? Are you okay? Do you see Meep?" she asks, feeling at her belt for the medpac she always keeps there. She's a mess, but she's functional. Now she has to keep her friend that way.

Until the sound of gunfire is heard from the VIP area! The roaring is new, though. "Uh-oh... sounds like we're needed!" she yelps, looking that way. She dashes over to the intercom panel. "VIP, what's in there? Are you all right?" she asks, punching the turbolift button and cursing softly under her breath as she waits for it.

A noise of frustration comes from Aola's lips as she looks at the woman bleeding before turning her gaze towards Meep where the small critter tries to sit up. "Meep! Go find a medpac! As quick as you can! Tamrae needs it right now!" Hopefully the Teek's ability for finding things was going to be used for good, because the Twi'lek is reaching for her blaster carbine with a clench of her teeth before taking Tam's hand (one of them) and placing it by her wound. "Keep pressure, keep still. We're going to get you help."

A breath, the blue-skinned pilot stands. Maybe Sion could patch up their friend, but the Twi'lek couldn't...so she'd try and do something else: kill whoever had come for them.

With her ears ringing, with the pain in her back swelling through her in huge waves, Tamrae is barely holding to consciousness as her body fights against shock. She can't hear the other gunfire or roaring yet, but tries to shift, stubbornly, pushing with her hands as she tries to push herself up a bit shakily then collapses again with another pained, animal noise, her nostrils flaring. At least the piece of durasteel plunged into her side is fairly easy to see for anyone who does try medical aid.

Meep shakes his head, clearing his fuzzy-head a bit as he rises. Medpack? yes yes.. yes.... Meep rushes into action.. darting about.. looking for anything that looks even remotely like a medpac. Whatever he finds, he rushes to Tamrae and lays on the ground.. napkins, tablecloths... beverage bottles... he's in a full on panic mode as he searches!

Meanwhile, people are running out of the VIP, bloodied and screaming. A Gran stumbles out of the door, his goatish head gashed open and missing two eyestalks, bellowing in pain before falling to the floor and trampled by a pair of gamblers running for their lives. An Echani waiter in a nebula-patterened suit staggers out, clutching at his neck as crimson pulses out red between his fingers. A blaster shot tears a trench through the side of his head, and he falls near the bar. Security is on the case, drawing blaster pistols and taking up positions behind overturned tables and the bar, and begin firing into the VIP room as a few survivors finally clear. Nobody yet follows, but a horde of blaster fire erupts in return, sending glass, metal and plastoid spalling hot and smoking across the club floor.

Tamrae's wounds aren't perhaps as bad as they could have been, but that shard's got to come out before she can move - during a firefighter, or afterwards. It's up to you, ladies.

Sion /can/ tend to Tam's wounds, so she tries to. "Gods... Tam, this is going to hurt," she says. "Just... hold on to my hand, and squeeze as much as you need to. Deep breaths... deep breaths... and /now/!"

On that word, she pulls the shard out with a quick, clean jerk, staying low to avoid the torrent of blaster fire.

Aola herself? Her debris-dirtied form takes position to cover the pair with her blaster raised, her grip tight and the weapon trained on the doorway. Anyone who came in and attempted to fire? She'd be ready to shoot.

Tamrae squeezes as a hand finds hers, turning her head towards Sion, blinking at her. "Wha?" she says blearily, then her dark eyes go wide as she lets out a shriek as the shard sliding back out through her flesh again. Instinctively she snaps in Sion's direction, her teeth clicking as she lets out a snarl of pain, then slumps, shuddering as the blood continues to spread, soaking her top and her blast vest as she pants quickly. "Oowwowowoooo."

Meep is still flitting about trying to find a medpac.. or anything else that might be useful to heal up Tamrae. If nothing else, he hurries to take up position at Tamrae's head, plopping down to try to place supportive hands at Tamrae's temples.

Regardless of cover, the remaining guards are torn to pieces by the steady flow of blaster fire coming from the VIP area. One by one, they go down as cover is blasted apart in clouds of steel and splintered plastic, Consortium blood left to mingle with the already dead. Silence hangs for a moment, silence, smoke and ozone - then as Sion works among the fury, the timing is such that Tamrae's groaning is the only sound in the club for precious seconds.

Then the pirates emerge. Wild-eyed Trandoshans in combat armor, bearing blaster rifles and vibroswords, they slink from the smoke that wreaths the VIP arch, peering warily as they track survivors. While the three of you are near the door, there are others who are not so fortunate - seeing them, the pirates begin to open fire once more, executing the crawling wounded. This is the way of the Kandaka Blades, then, murdering the helpless. Not that you'd be surprised.

Sion is tempted... normally, she'd be trying to make Trando-skin luggage. But she's got a wounded friend and no support. Saving lives has to take priority now.

She moves to assist Tam to her feet, conscious of those snapping teeth. "Come on... we've got to get out of here," she hisses, grateful for the clouds of concealing smoke. "Keep pressure on that wound, and head for the door. I'll try to distract them."

That said, she looks for cover, drawing her Series 5.

The wounded Codru-Ji can be pulled to her feet, but she's very unsteady on them, wobbling. Luckily, she's a fairly small girl, meaning Sion can mandhandle her pretty easily. She leans into her heavily, gasping as Meep helps keeping the pressure on the nasty wound as she staggers, nodding to Sion, then tries to limp towards the exist, leaning on Meep as she does.

Meep is perfectly positioned height-wise to provide a good handhold... doing his best to keep Tamrae on the direction towards the exit. Once near the door.. if he can.. he tries to find one of those fire alarm button thingies.. sprinklers might help give them an edge? Right?

Somehow, as Sion prepares her own, more violent distraction, Meep finds and pulls the fire alarm - which, despite already having gone off, had not yet engaged the emergency sprinklers. This time the overhead nozzles engage, spewing not water but high-performance snuffer foam down onto the carnage. This place used to be a fuel bunker, after all; water isn't going to calm down blazing starship fuel. But this...this could be what the doctor ordered.

And indeed it is. Suddenly drenched in yellowish foam, the sharp-toothed fighters are caught in their own confusion; they look wildly about, momentarily puzzled, and if you're looking for an extraction this is the best chance you're going to get - or, of course, a chance to open fire.

And open fire Sion does, using one of the booth banks for cover. She aims for the two closest Trandos, praying the powerful Naboo pistol can put these hulking monsters down.

With the added cover, and a bit of meandering, Tamrae makes it to the door, sliding it open as she sips outside, then promptly collapses just outside against the wall, her eyes blinking a bit as they get a bit glazed. "Meep...I'm...just gonna...sit here....f'now..." Her eyelids flutter slightly, before she faints, slumping over.

Meep wasn't exactly expecting a dump of foam! The poor little Teek is submerged, just a pair of ears and flailing arms in the sea of foam as he tries to keep up with Tamrae... though he gets a bit lost in all the foam, veering off blindly to one side and bumping into a table with an audible *Boop*.

Between Sion and Aola, the Trandoshan killers have no chance. Sion's heavy pistol makes a canoe out of the skull of one of them, the other going down with shot square in the chest; they fall together like tenpins, sprawling among their own bloody work. Aola's pinpoint shooting drills through the rest, armor as of nothing compared to her marksmanship. Silence again, now, and perhaps the battle is now over - certainly there's no more fire coming from the VIP area.

Sion, seeing the Trandos are down, moves to check the VIP area anyway, stacking up at the hatch. She peeks around the hatch lip, her weapon still held ready...

Meep swishes around in the foam until he finds the proper exit and stumbles across the snoozing Tamrae. "Oooot noot!" he chitters, panting for breath as he tries to wake Tamrae up by tapping her on the cheek. That not working, he uses both hands to take ahold of one of her arms and pull! Pull her away from the door! He's leaning back with ALL his might but he can't even get her to budge, his feet slipping on the ground a bit as he turns about, holding her arm over one shoulder and leaning into it... no dice.

Beyond the archway into the VIP, the scene is much as it is in the main club - dead people, a lot of them, gamblers and staff. A number of human pirates, too, having been brought down by either weapons fire from the customers or from the security guards before their demise. Nothing else, though, just a lot of dead people, and a heavily wounded Trandoshan slumped against the base of the VIP enclosure. Draped in a coat made from what is obviously flayed skin - patchwork, horrible, stretched faces looking out among asymmetrical pieces of hide - he looks up as Sion creeps in, scaly lips spreading to bare bloodied fangs. He begins to emit a wet, hissing laugh...and it's only then that he opens his gory cloak to show the line of thermal detonators strapped to his chest. Detonators that are beginning to whine.

Sion's dark eyes widen... and she dives for the door, toggling it shut behind her. "OUT! GET OUT NOW!"

Having said that, she does her best to follow her own advice, moving to assist Tamrae and Meep once her headlong flight takes her close to them.

Meep lets Sion take Tamrae's full weight.. he can't lift even her arm really... but he hurries after the two, huffing and puffing as his arms pump up and down... using that racial speed boost to rush out infront and then circle around until Sion and Tamrae catch up... no people left behind!

No people left behind...except for the injured who can't escape on their own, of course. But that's hardly something you think about when faced with fiery destruction. Fleeing up the stairs and into the street, you barely clear the club as the spaceport tower trembles with the force of the explosion below. First there is thunder, and then silence - leaving only the people outside to tremble under cover and the sound of distant sirens to fill the quiet.

Those sirens are security forces coming. Probably time to get out of here.