Log:Corellian Civil War: Doom

An attack on Talus, contracted by Corellia

OOC Date: May 28 2023
Location: Talus - Corellia System
Participants: Nerys Greystorm, Kael Greystorm, Siywa Tralos, Rieve Selki, Cadogan West, Terek Rosol, Wun Numb and Hadrix Kora as GM

"The Tallusians have their ports locked tighter than a Hutt's vault, but we've plenty of means to get in, no worries there." A figure identified only as Rix relayed, his form blue and periodically distorted by flickering from the holographic emitters that displayed him in the middle of the 'droid hauler' already descending atmosphere.

The journey had come from Dantooine, starting at one of the agricultural out-ports, in a modified cargo pod on an old BFF-1 Bulk freighter. One of the detachable oblong trapezoidal pod on the fore starboard side had a 'shell' to conceal against basic scans and provide the rest of the space to the ballistic drop-shuttle that all had spent three days in on the journey from port to port, picking up Talus's imports. "They've been running extensive scans, especially on their food imports,"

An indicator light on the ceiling of the shuttle blinked once and then went solid amber, raising Rix's head to gaze up at it as did many of the mercenaries aboard in various states of (un)savory. "Those would be the initial scans, so you're in far enough... Your target is the fuel depot at the port, you'll be landing as close as we can get you." Rix's image is replaced by what look like a collection of durasteel mushrooms with hazard markings on them, "Destroy one, dynamically, and the explosion should take out the others. We have agents on the ground, ready to exfiltrate you once the job is done... When the job is done you'll be contacted. Good luck, gentlebeings..."

Seat restraints dropped into place, with the added hum of anti-grav and inertial dampener systems joining when the roof light goes red and the marching sequence of charges precedes the stomach dropping sensation of the deployment shuttle being loosed and its drop-rockets increasing its speed as well as its descent.

<"Don't clench, keep loose..."> a growling voice from the dark armored Mandalorian among the mix of soldiers of fortune, <"It's not a soft landing..."> Hadrix Kora's rasp becoming a sound like an old man's cough mixed with the chuffing sound of a canine - the big man's shoulders shaking to give away that he's laughing even as the inertia systems begin failing to eliminate, fully, the sensation of increasing speed.

The figure in light power armor was neither too small, or overbearingly tall, edging somewhere on the more diminutive side, though the armor did make up for it. A modified backpack was on her back, with easy access ports, and the hilt of a blade and the butt of a baton crossed at the back. Maglocked over the pack itself, was an ID10 droid, currently, seemingly, powered down. A holster on one side and a variety of pockets and patches made everything accessible, as they waited, the descent handled well enough. Atmo drops were always a bit dicey. "If you made the poor choice to eat before all of this, do try to keep your helmet on." A definitively female voice, with that oddly sharp corellian accent which was rarely seen outside of high society.

Settled into his seat on the drop shuttle Kael stretches just a bit, "Got it. Clench up be as tight as possible and everything will break into place right?" Despite what he's saying he's fairly relaxed in his seat although he double checks his weapons to make sure they're all in place and secured properly, "Ohhhh food. I forgot to eat."

Siywa is not officially part of the Corellian defense fleet, but she has contacts. Her mother is retired Corsec, but the whole family are Corellian loyalists. When the planet came under attack, by individuals from their own system noless, the crew of the Down and Out volunteered for clandestine operations as needed. No questions asked. Not even how they were paying her.

Obviously, nothing is free.

The Down and Out had been brought on planet earlier in the day by Veika, one of the Dug twin crew of the ship, under the cover of delivering 'oil refining' equipment obtained from Kessel earlier in the week. Most of Talus' infrastructure was agricultural, so they rellied fairly heavily on the kindness of strangers to make up for their industrial shortcomings.

The plan was for Siywa to assist in the assault, then lead the group to her ship where she'll fly them through the blockade as exfultration. But she was also the point of contact with the agents on the ground.

With the Togruta leaning against the bulkhead with her arms crossed, looking about as uncomfortable in armor as she felt. She kept tugging at it, with a pair of blaster pistols holstered under each arm and another dangling down on her hip. And a droid clinging to her shoulder, peering around with an almost nervous like jitterness. "It'll be fine, Beeds."

The mission briefing had been straight forward. They needed guns for a hit for their civil war, but couldn't be seen doing it themselves. It's an op Terek had run before. Though this particular entry was new to him. Terek had brought a crate with him, and had been sitting on it for most of the trip. As things were finally getting ready to kick off, he put his helmet back on.

<"So do we have any specifics or is this more of a 'figure it out as we go along' once we hit the ground kind of situation?"> He asks, getting ready for the rough landing and bracing himself against the crate, quickly double checking the straps. That is the last thing he wants bouncing around once they hit the ground.

<"'Lek, arue'ika..."> nodding at Cadogan, <"If you clench up... the crash tech might snap your spine... If you're a little tense, it'll just be sore for a few days."> Al'Verde Kora's response comes crisply, if still couched in the rasping chuckles that seem fitting with the thrumming sound vibrating through the hull.

Readouts come to life above each seat with an altimeter counting down at progressively alarming speeds, <"Don't know, Terek, sounded pretty straight forward to me... Land... get out. Get to the port. Explode. Strategic disappearance."> the big man offering a vague gesture, <"Subdue anyone or thing that impedes...">

A sound combat veterans could identify as AA flak being reflected by shields, and soon after by reactive hull armor starts to join the shuddering of the craft and inertial systems emit warning tones when the sensation of a craft in flight trying to level out some joins the mine-elevator plummet.

There's barely time to register the sensation before the world is screaming system alerts, the grinding shriek of metal on synthetic stone, ozone from electrical discharges matched to showers of sparks and then the roar of wind through opening panels on the deployment craft - ray shielding allowing glimpses of the path carving through what might be an office star-scraper, the duracrete supports being rent like softened butter before it is open air and the shuttle is skidding down a street, its reinforced duranium prow bulldozing landspeeders out of the way.

And then its stopped, on the ground, having rotated in the last dozen meters to a ninety degree turn. The port and starboard sides blow off and it is all screaming, constabulary craft sirens and panic with the starport looming ahead. Maybe half a kilometer, but there are already militia craft visible, headed directly for the strike team.

Nerys rose from the seat, the restraints that had kept them mostly in place during the descent and landing snapping free as she reached for the blaster at her hip. She did not, however, come out shooting. Instead, she moved to the edge of the exit, head snapping left and right before she stepped down, <<"Going to see if I can get there the long way around, get the ordinance in before they know what's going on. I'll keep you posted.">> And then she was off, seeming to meld into the chaos, though her voice continued to come along the comms, <"Miltia coming in from the west. Local security coming in from the east, behind out landing position. Don't let them pincer you.">> Nerys made use of the tracking system in her helm to ping anyone whose armor gave them access to a HUD to allow them to see what targets she could see.

Kael sighs, "Well we're not going in unnoticed." He does another quick assessment of his kit before he releases the straps keeping him in place in the shuttle. A quick glance towards Nerys before he draws his pistols glancing out at the approaching things in the way of the fuel depot before attempting to remove said threats and drawing some attention, <<"Heard. Engaging the folks to the west.">> The X-8 making silent shots towards the Grunts before the massive bark of the Sentinel IV can be heard. <<"Two down.">>

Well that's certainly one way to land... and calling it a landing feels like an insult to every landing ever. Siywa has, in her extensive career as a transportation expert, had her fair share of crashes, this feels a lot like a crash. While she does not clench, she does brace, and immediately regrets it when the cargo pod is jetisoned begins the rapid smash into the street below. Jostled about in the interior, she comes up from beneath her bench seat once it finishes sliding across the durasteel to make her way towards the exit.

While her intention is to find a place to hide, there just isn't a whole lot to duck behind. So with her pistol in hand, she slips up behind one of the overturned speeder cars and buttons down. BEEDS clings to her shoulder. Trembling gently against her arm.

<<"Two Down.">> The droid repeats in Kael's voice. <<"Don't let them pincer you.">> In Nerys.

"I hear ya, buddy." Leaning up and looking over the speeder, blaster held up, "Need to create a distraction or they're going to overrun us." They are but one motley crew of mercenaries against a whole city, afterall.

Everything is spinning, and then it isn't. Rieve had stayed loose and felt every shake and rattle through his limber form. Then as the sides were blown off the pod, he too was scrambling for cover. For the first few steps, his legs felt shakey, but then as he pushed through and the circulation resumed as it should, Rieve was throwing himself towards cover, pistol clutched close to his side as he ducked and ran. Rieve gestured for a few startled civilians to <"Come on now, get off the street! Get out the way!"> Herding, shouting, dashing, Rieve is making for a place to rest his shoulder and level his pistol a little slower than others. Glancing down one street and then the other, Rieve eyes the approaching forces with some degree of trepidation, a suitable degree that any sane person would indeed regard them with. Even so, he makes ready with his weapon as he clears the landing pod.

"A snapped spine will ruin your whole day, yeah?" Cadogan drawls dryly as he rolls his neck and tries to relax. ...Relax. While crashing to the ground amid anti aircraft fire into a battle zone. "Good times..." he mutters with a crooked grin as safety harnesses are popped loose, he readies a grenade, draws a pistol, and sets his sight on the distant fuel depot. "Let's bring the fireworks," the rogue rumbles, making haste away from the drop ship. A short nod to the report on opposing troop movements, and off he goes. "They definitely wasn't lying about the sore spine.. rekk me," with a grimace.

This landing isn't going to feel great. Terek reaches up and grabs hold of the straps on the crate at the last second to help hold himself in place as the ship crashes and slams down. After several moments, the dull pain filters through, along with the sound of sparks, sirens, and who knows what else.

Terek rises up, and uses his vibroknife to cut the straps holding the crate down, before he slams a fist down on top of it, <"Krayt, time to go to work."> The front of the storage box pops off, and a black sphere painted with flames rolls out of the box, out of the dropship, and onto the ground proper. Terek moves up next to it, as it unfolds into a tripod legged droid, along with a pair of blaster cannons for arms, "This is my favorite part." The droid replies, before his deflector shield comes up, and he immediately starts blasting at any approaching civil defense forces that are making their way towards the crash site.

As for Terek, he starts moving towards the fuel depot proper, his DL-44 coming to bear off of his hip, as he double taps one of the defense forces as he leaps over a barricade, moving towards cover. The sneaky gang will probably be able to get there undetected, but the more chaos and noise he can make, the better. Plus maybe he'll get lucky and a shot will blow up the fuel.

Whatever was going on behind Nerys...was going on behind Nerys. There was someone entirely uncanny, possibly, some might say, inhuman, about the way in which the operative was able to compartmentalize. She focused on calling back enemy positions, and any ground debris which might prove either a useful obstacle or a hindrance to the team. If it alarmed her that she had left her husband behind on the battlefield-- well, it didn't. This was the job as they always understood it, and The other Greystorm could handle himself. <<"Still moving towards the target. Looks like they are bringing in reinforcements. That dropship isn't going to be useful cover for long.">> Not that the way ahead of her was clear, but she had, so far, managed to evade the enemy fighters who were between her and the depot.

Kael starts to move in the direction of the fuel depots while he pops off more shots at the grunts he'd engaged, <<"Sarcasm boss. It was pretty obvious we'd be going in loud.">> And as the X-8's silent bolts slams into another grunt, <<"Another down. Are we going to go straight after obj or take a scenic route and see how much of a hornets nest we can get spun up?">>

These streets are way too hot. Trying to advance towards the depot is going to be a constant conflict that Siywa has no interest in engaging. Everyone keeps shooting at her, even if Rieve ended up getting shot for her... She really needs to get him a Life Day Ham for that. Provided they're not dead or rotting away in a Talusian prison. So while everyone is unloading their pistols down range, the togruta rolls off her place hunkered behind a speeder, and slips into one of the shops lining teh busy street they'd crash landed on.

With a blaster in hand, the shoppers and attendant stare at her...

She stares at them.

Beeds stares over her shoulder.

"I have some super secret business business that supercedes whatever shopping you had to do here today." Raising her blaster at one of them, "Do me a favor and duck down behind the counter there... And you, bearded man with the dad bod, bolt that door huh?"

Peering at whoever looks the most like an employee, "You there, where's the water closet?"

Rieve has somehow spotted some police officer lining up a shot on Siywa, and stepped in between the very line of sight that esnured a shot could well have plinked off Siywa's orange butt. Instead it spins Rieve somewhat as the searing shot slams into his flank, and it's with a hiss over comms, that Rieve strides to cover, one hand pressed to his side and a stiff gait. <"Yes. Lets start standing in front of sharp-shooters oui?">

Rieve muttered softly as he limped into the nearby shop, waving his weapon at those present. "Get into the back, now, go, go! I am local securitie... caught off-guard eh? Please, hunker down and you'll be safe, do not come out! I entreat you."> The very words spoken with such calm, and a warm lingering waver of noble pain and suffering. The pain and suffering one endures when standing between a Siywa and a shooter. Down Rieve slinks, taking cover as he fumbles for his medpac, and sprays his wound with a little bacta-spray, and then begins to pad and cover his wound. "Wait a minute... this isn't bacta spray?" It's Eau de Dac, fresh saltwater scent with a gentle tang of rocks, fire, and burning. Who packed this kit?

Cadogan West had slowed his initial sprint for distance from the drop ship once he had a measure of cover to dive behind. Scanning the street ahead to pick a covered lane of approach, he advances in bursts, thus far manages to keep out of the defenders clearest fields of fire. He tries to slip behind a row of buildings, but only narrowly ducks back in time to avoid walking face first into a patrol of approaching militiamen. Close call. Once the squad have hup hupped past, he darts further up the street, to the next point of cover. <<"Advancing on objective. Undetected, so far.">>

As Terek is advancing one of those civil defense troops manages to land a shot at him, the blast catching a plate on his leg and sending slag into his thigh. He yells out in pain and drops back behind cover for a second, <"Krayt, please kill that guy that just shot me!"> He calls out to his droid over the comms. The Droideka folds up and rolls to where Terek is, unfolding and using the deflector to block a few rounds as he returns fire on the civil soldier, knocking him back with one of the cannon shots.

Terek picks himself up, the DL-44 slipping back into the holster on his thigh as he moves around behind where the defenseman had been knocked down. As the guy scrambles for his weapon, he looks up at Terek who has stepped around with his 38CT, the pilot light on the weapon burning brightly for a moment, as the dark armored Mandalorian tilts his head just a bit, <"Bad day to come to work.">

The jet of flame fully engulfs him within a moment, the flames continuing to burn as Terek advances further towards the depot, <"I don't think these guys are getting paid enough for this.">

A light repeater opens up from the militia transport, cutting across the street in an attempt to dissuade forward movement from the attackers, the drop-shuttle being struck repeatedly by stray fire that is raining down from east and west sides of them with thankfully none coming from the buildings yet. Even when one is burst into by a Togruta and another by a Hapan.

<"Suppose it depends on how many they tie us down with... Only three of us shooting...">

Dad-Bod runs to bolt the door, or try to, fumbling with the control panel while instinctively juggling the goods he'd planned to purchase. A 'Dance With Me Banooki' doll gripped tight now attempting to get this port sot to drop the command he was given,

"Dance with me!"

"I... I... I can't!"

"Da-" whap "Dan-" WHAP "Dance-" WHUMP "Dance wit-" WHUMP whump whump WHUMP "Da-da-da-da" THUNP "Let's BOOGIE! Baooki LOVES to GET DOWN!" and suddenly the shop is filled with the wailing, jamming, tunes of a now Fair Use old enough Shag Kava lick... Jabba Flow. The clerk just lifts his hand to point at a pair of doors, wide eyed while everyone else has holo-still recorders lifted, focused on Siywa.

Outside another of the militia is erased by cannon fire, the magnetically propelled bolt wreathed in tibanna plasma scooping them up and over the side of the truck and earning Al'Verde Kora renewed concentration of fire that he wades forward through, taking in Nerys and Bitty's information as its relayed. <"And we either move into a building, or we keep up a march down this shooting gallery..."> a return of his rasping chuckle, <"I'm ok with either..."> the guided munition on his jetpack lifting to ready position and giving off a whine as it powers up.

The police keep up their volleys of fire, leaning from cover at irregular intervals to lay down attempts to suppress those still in the relative open, pointing to figures disappearing into buildings... like Rieve, who has several people in stylists chairs screaming, those who had been working on their hair running for the back doors, leaving their clients for dead.

Meanwhile

"Banooki need to get DOWN!"

'Bu tu neeg!' (Pato kateeg ateh!)

'Lei nee cha!' (Jabba, muni muni!)

"Banooki thinks you have SWEET moves!"

Wump-thump-thump-WUMPF

There was always a decision to be made. overground or above, inside or outside. Nerys, for the time being, moved as she had been, keeping to the relative freedom of being in the streets, without rising up into the air to become a very visible, flying target. A few ways were faster, most were simply more dangerous. The operative continued on, a blaster bolt skimming almost near enough to hit her, but she didn't bother to stop and return fire. That was not the mission, despite the obvious and enormous firefight under way. That was all the distraction.

Kael's still moving along with the majority of the team taking his pistol shots with care as he works on keeping the pressure on them and off the rest of the team, <<"True. Lets keep the pressure up I guess.">> The X-8 not really barking any sounds followed by the Sentinel IV's loud pew. <<"Nerys think you can get the explosions going while we're the bait?">>

It is a known fact that Siywa loves this Jabba Flow.

"I love this track..." She follows Dad Bod with a glance, but keeps her blaster pointed at the others, so they remember who's in charge here. Who is in charge? "Right... you!" She grabs the attendant and shoves them towards the refresher, "Beeds.. initimidation mode." The droid crawls off of Siywa's back and and lands on the counter. The little optical lights on the front of it's square face flashes bright red. "Have you ever seen a Three twelve series titan droid? Well, they were designed by the Neomdians specifically for torture. I wont get into teh graphic details of what they do, but it's a lot like getting your brains sucked out of your skull with a bendy straw."

"So if any of you even think about moving, Beeds is going to get real thirsty."

She pushes the attendent into the toilet and has her sit in a corner. "Stay there. If you move, I'm going to bite you. You ever met a Togruta?" "You sound Corellian." "I am, but I'm also a togruta. And we have poisonous bites. If I bite you, you'll be forced to bathe... I know how you Talusians hate bathing." She swings a bag down off her shoulder and reaches in for a cutting torch. Down on one knee, starting to cut through the floor after lowering her dark tinted goggles over her crystal blue eyes. Sparks and dust fountaining out around her armored knee.

Back in the store. Beeds jerks forward on his articulating pair of legs at one of the shoppers, <<"Bad day to come to work.">> Said in Tarok's voice, <<"Only three of us are shooting.">> It says in Hadrix's armored voice. <"Muni Muni.">

Right. Rieve is so going to need a beauty treatment after this mission. He hurts. He hurtz! Oh where is a pale Corellian when he needs one to lounge against and be pampered, to be treated, and to be fed grapes, and little sippy sips of fine wine. Grabbing the largest of the barbers bibs, the stripey smock, the smockiest of smocks, is draped about his form with no regard for hygiene or who might have used it prior!

A wild soaking down of his hair follows suit, with a few moments spent weaving little foil strips amidst those gorgeous locks. "I look so damn good, I'd be too popular in prison, especially here on Corellia... I can't get caught." Rieve eyes his reflection for a second longer. Smoochy face.

A packet is tore open, and a face mask applied to his face.

Citrussy.

Fresh.

And with a warm breath, his morale boosted by these beauty products, he flees out back away from the battle zone, seemingly in a blind panic! "Woe! There's brutes! Brutes everywhere!" And into a shop a couple of buildings up he flees, seeking the high ground! Stomp Stomp stomp! Barber's smock billowing martially with every step.

Cadogan West hastens up the street in another short dash, taking cover behind a tree. Not a real tree, of course, but a holographic advertisement platform had been damaged and fallen to street level, projecting the glitching image of a tree, which was close enough for Cado to count as hiding behind a tree,. He spies the ground ahead and runs across an open stretch of debris-strewn street, toward the next bit of cover. <<"Nearly past the lot,">> he checks in like a professional, clearly unaware of rampant shenanigans.

Whap whap whap. The sound of blaster bolts hitting the deflector shield can be heard as Terek moves behind Krayt for cover, the shield getting battered by shots as Terek and the droid close the gap between themselves and the militia, <"Krayt, swap!"> Terek calls out, stepping past the droid so it can stop taking shots, firing a jet of flame into the lines of the militia, as he fires from the hip, sweeping it over them and leaving one running and screaming, <"Come on, blow that damn thing."> He mutters over local comms, the droid turning his scanners to look at Terek, <"You should have brought the rocket launcher. Could have set it off from the landing sight."> Terek grunts at the suggestion, <"Bit late to worry about that now, don't you think?! Keep shooting!">

The drop ship wreckage shivers, then a panel moves as some soft grumbling is heard. Wun crawls out, not much worse for wear other than burn marks across his meager armor, which thankfully is still ok. He hears the sounds of gunfire and said he'd back up the freedom fighters. Though he is now doubting the wisdom of that action. Still, loyalty is important for this smuggler. He checks his fiber armor and makes sure everything is on, and wields his..yes..his sporting rifle. Talk about bringing a pea-shooter to an elephant hunt. Still, he attempts to move toward the battle, stealthing from one cover to another and watching out to spot Corellian bad guys.

When the missile launches it causes a whole new stir.

It spirals out, just barely skimming past one of the militia speeders when the driver swerves clear in a blinding tirade of cursing and calls of surprise from others in gunner positions when they're hurled back into their restraints. The whole vehicle coming down hard enough to the ground that the repulsors spark and threaten to give out before stabilizer sheets drop to the ground to make the craft stable and protect its mode of motion.

<<"Kael, Terek... We may need to go up and over...">> Hadrix swapping to comms now from his externals, head coming round to look at the sullustan coming out of the shuttle, <<"Hey, he lived...">> that might complicate Up and Over. Maybe.

Cadogan and Nerys are past the main throng of the militia and their vehicles - eyes sweeping for movement firing wildly in their directions, one of them catching a civilian trapped in their speeder in the shoulder. Their cries earning little more than a "GET DOWN" from the shooter who finds their narrow spotting of a creeping figure lost in the smoke.

The police seem more keen to keep themselves behind cover, letting the 'military' handle things - their leaning round to take shots thinning when a solid hit on the Mandalorian in purple results in the side of building being opened up by explosions, rubble and several humanoid forms sliding down the side amid the fire and smoke.

And screams.

The quartet on the ground leave the firefight for the roof of one of the buildings on the north side. Blaster fire trailing after them and the Massive Mandalorian bringing Wun with, one massive arm wrapped about them to get them clear.

It gets them out of the killbox.

It puts them into a more open place.

But it also forces the militia to immediately begin piling back into the craft when two of the speeders on the street start to take off. Drawing surprised and angry fire. A new obstacle for Cadogan and Nerys to maneuver - to varying degrees of success... or near success.

<<"I'm pushing the mission clock ahead, Mayhem.">> An old name that possibly only two people in the current group would remember. The Other Greystorm and the Mandalorian. Nerys, breaking from cover as her path was clearly being marked by the enemy forces, headed for one of the semi-covered speeders, hopping inside and making short work of the controls. She might have been brought up in polite society, but that was more years ago than her face, which looked barely out of early adulthood even after all of these decades, could convey. As soon as the speeder rumbled back to life, she was off, making a beeline to the port. Which, was unlikely to paint her as anything but the enemy to the port security, despite the fact that she fired on no one.

Fighting the guards was not the aim. The aim was to make entry, which she did, flying in a wild erratic manner that forced the security teams to focus on the speeder, blaster fire scarring ang pockmarking the vehicle, before Nerys kicked off and away, looking for all of the world as though she had been blown off, body disappearing somewhere into the bustle of the starport as the speeder flipped and twisted, using the last of it's programmed trajectory to make its final destination one of the security buildings, its body shattering the window before it exploded in a fiery inferno. It was not the best distraction she had ever attempted, but if it worked, it worked. <<"I have entered the starport.">>

Militia burst into the shop and any hint of intimidation in B33D5 evaporates like heated poop. He ZOIKS, wiggles his articulating legs, and scampers off the counter so quickly that he slides over on his side and has to regain his footing. Chicken-running towards where Siywa is just finishing up the hole in the floor. The torch is replaced in her pack, slung over her shoulder into her back, and Beeds jumps onto her arm as she stands and stomps the slab of durocrete into the dark, danke hole she'd just cut in the floor. Then she drops down into the shit.

Literally.

"Beeds, access the public records..." Arms out, wrists flicking to fling crap off her gloved hands as she begins the unpleasant course through the Talusian sewer systems. A little bead of light shines forward as she slides through things she, quite frankly, doesn't want to look down and identify. "THis was a bad idea, who's idea was this?"

<<"-I- -have- -entered- -Mayhem-.>> Says Beeds, slicing together things Nerys has said, repeating them in Nerys' voice. His eyes go from white to red, remotely searching the public database and bringing up a, surprisingly detailed, map of the sewer systems.

It'll require Siywa to crawl through a small port, on her belly, through ... "This is the only way, seriously?"

<<"You can say that again, Buddy.">> Repeating something back to her, in Siywa's voice.

On her belly, she crawls beneath the bars, pulls herself through, and tries her very best not to vomit, but she can see the ladder leading up to the underside of, if this map is correct, a port side toilet.

A retractor cord extends from her harnass belt, used for dangling beneath a starship during repairs, and hooks into the side of the duracrete wall to again start cutting another hole to get herself -out- of the sewers. <<"-Up- -Up- -Up-">> Repeated in Kael's voice, over and over, "Hang onto your gears, I'm going as fast as I can..." <<"-Up- -UP-">>

Rieve finally pops his head up! <<"In position three buildings along from the beauty salon. Upper floor.">> And with the window half melting, half shattering as he swings his blaster to bear and fires off two quick shots towards the approaching militia, Rieve finally draws his first blood. The red blaster bolt slams into one of the soldiers, with the second whistling overhead to slam into the road. Catching Siywa's message, Rieve responds. <<"Mind where you tread. Loads of... land mines.">>

Flinging off the barber's smock with an artful flourish, the face mask remains for the moment as it is both cooling and cleansing. That probably explains the aim too. Though Rieve seeks to maintain some measure of cover for the moment.

Cadogan West takes cover from a sniper's shot behind an old speeder. Behind his visor, Cado cracks a grin, then cracks open the door and slips inside the vehicle. Hunkered low, he hotwires the vehicle, and gets the repulsors whining hot. A chuckle as the grinning outlaw throws the throttle fully open and accelerates as fast as the vehicle can fly...

Which it turns out is not as fast as he was expecting. "What the hell? Did I just steal Bonjeu's ride?" he grumbles, utterly failing to maneuver the lumbering vehicle out of the line of fire from the militia vehicles. The sluggish speeder is hit and crashes promptly into an awning post. Piling back out, and just sprinting for the objective, he growls over comms, <<"It's a rekking crime against velocity to call these things 'speeders'.">> He hurls a grenade as far as he can toward a cluster of starport troops, blasting five off their feet as he runs the last stretch of open ground.

There's a lot of chaos going on, which is helping keep the militia and the locals on their toes. When the Mandalorians introduce jetpacks to it, it just helps to add to the chaos. Terek gets carried on up to the rooftop, landing with a heavy thud. He drops the flamer back onto its sling, <"Krayt, get inside, regen your shields. We're on the roof. See if you can get up to us.">

The droid, who has been watching his shields get lower with each shot that hits it, seems to agree with the tactical decision, as it folds down into a ball and tears off, ramping up stairs and sailing through a window into the ground floor of the building that Terek just landed on top of.

Terek turns around and gets down into a firing position, getting his sniper rifle and deploying the bipod on it, as he starts to sight in on the militia, <"Keep moving, I'll cover you!"> He calls out, as he looks to Wun and the others on the roof with him.

Wun gets on the roof and goes for cover, then takes a pot shot at a Civil Defense trooper with his carbine. Or tries to. Shooting on a range is different than combat. He apparently forgot to load the ammo. He does quickly, and fires off a shot, too fast. It goes wide. He takes a breath, and says some words in Silustese, then fires on an exhale.

This time Wun's shot hits, wounding but not downing the soldier.

<"Terek, how long since we were last in a warzone with buildings?">

One of the miltiia on the rising speeder is blown off of their feet and the ratcheting of the long gun's bolt precedes the high pitched wail of the magnetics systems powering and the pressurizer already threatening to redline.

In the starport, smoke and flames is rising between different points, covering the passage of two different figures on a very specific mission. It is steadily becoming pandemonium, with alarm klaxons blaring on loudspeakers and figures are rushing out of buildings with firefighting material and weapons in almost equal measure.

Another soldier is blasted off of the rising airspeeder by Hadrix who looks to Kael headed for the port, the Sullustan firing and Terek getting his rifle ready.

<"Well, if this could be considered a warzone eh?"> the big man's voice rasping again while blaster fire spatters around them.

In the port, at least one so far has a clear run for the fuel depot, enough time to make space for the other. Or set to work while the other catches up and the ground security try desperately to find if anyone has survived the explosions within the ports boundaries.

<<"On the ground at the port. Moving to gather forces and head to the deport.">> There was something that almost sounded like a smile in Nerys' voice. She did miss the old names, and perhaps the days when wetwork was her usual profession. Perhaps it still was. She was here, after all. She kept herself low, trusting to skill and circumstance, and the complete chaos that had been created behind her as she moved towards the depot, "Path to the depot through the port incoming." That was send to any HUD that wished to look at it, the map pinging active as Nerys moved through the firefighting and the general mayhem. Not the one space-spidermaning his way to the port. The other kind.

Kael's still running the roofs.. Or at least he would be if he wasn't slipping and sliding across the roofs instead... As he stumbles and slides towards the edge of the roof he makes a last ditch effort to jump to the other roof before he plumets towards the ground and his inevitable doom as he lands on the next roof he just lays there a moment, <<"I actually survived that...">>

Once the underside of the dumper is cut out with the hand-held torch, Siywa replaces it in her satchel and grabs a laser-grid emitter. Designed for keeping heavy ship parts suspended, it has four ends connected to solid surface that project a laser grid onto which the part is suspended. It comes on with an eerie blue glow that illuminates against her orange skin, white fangs, and poop tattoos. "We're almost out of here." Said to the little head poking over her shoulder, once again trembling as if the small droid was terrified.

It'll get use to it.

It's his first mission.

Another device, two small spheres, are connected once she completes the last cut. An anti-grav field hovers the slab of duracrete down into the poo beneath them after she deactives the laser grid. She gives it a little shove to send it sliding through the air and out of her way, enough to pull herself up and out with a glance around.

<<"Veika, I'm on my way.">> Once again out of the sewers, her comms designation pops back up on everyone's HUD. Switching over to the teams comms once she receives the assurance that the ship will be ready to go once she gets here. <<"I'll have the ship ready shortly. Going to use the cover of the explosion to-">>

A voice from behind her, "This is a restricted area! What are you, oh by the force what is that smell?"

Siywa straightens from where she'd been creeping along a building towards where her ship is being unloaded, spins on her heels, and stares right into the face of port security.. "Detective Corpus." She says with a surprising amount of authority. "I was following the terrorists who spirited upon this port, what's your name son? Hmm? Because they're using turd-grenades!" Hoisting a finger, flinging crap off her glove to splatter against the visor shield on the mans face.

"I need you to move your unit to the south western-ly, westernish portion of the ... over there.." Another flick of her wrist, another splatter. This time on his chest. "On the bounce, son! And tell your people to arm themselves with series twelve respirators. These poop fumes can cause intense vomiting to any, but the most indoctrinated Talusian Police."

it's probably the poop more than her crap story, but...

Having dookie thrown at you has a way of encouraging compliance?

The guard runs off, murmuring, "Yes Ma'am... uh... the refreshers are.. there..." Pointing her in the direction, clearly trying not to vomit as he disappears.

Having fired off two shots and somehow evaded detection, Rieve finally draws back from the window and stows his pistol. Grabbing a large coat and a hat, Rieve makes sure he looks somewhat presentable as a civilian and slinks out of the building as forces sweep by. Head bowed, moving quickly with the panicked throng, even helping another who has fallen along the way, Rieve vanishes into the mass of shocked and horrified civilians. Explosions, blaster shots, shouts and screams! Oh the melody of mayhem! The symphony of suffering! It all signals Rieve's drift towards the evac point where'll wait for everyone. Possibly even Siywa, and by curious good fortune, there's a pack of lemony fresh wipes in the pocket of the coat he stole. They might come in handy, but there'll be nowhere near enough of them to help her sinuses recover. Ever.

There's a soft chuckle from inside of Terek's helmet, <"It's been a while. Let me think."> As he sets into position, the rifle's scope shuffles between view modes, linking with his helmet as he sights in on one of the militia members, <"I remember now."> Terek says, exhaling slowly as he pulls the trigger.

The anti-materiel rifle lances out with the kind of shot one might expect from a vehicle's weapon, hitting the militia man just above his left clavicle region, though it's impossible to tell the exact point of impact because the body mostly vaporizes from the force of the anti-armor round.

<"I don't know if you'd call it a battlefield but we did have that gunfight at the weapons plant on Ord Mantel."> He responds to Hadrix finally, taking in another breath and moving the scope towards the next closest member of the militia.

Wun gets up a good run and attempts to jump to the next roof. Running good, jumping not so much, as his toe catches on the lip of the roof and he starts the descent to splatsville. It's looking grim for the moment, as he flails his arms.

Mushroom like, just as they were in the holographic display. A half dozen fuel pods rise above the ground, pressurized fuel pumped up into the bulbous reservoirs where it is mixed and refined, readied for spacecraft. Or most often of late, stored for usage by Talus's military in the days following the attacks on the CEC platform and the civil strife forming between the Corellian System worlds.

Figures forced down by Terek's anti-armor weapon let out calls of shock and surprise for what the Mandalorian brings to bear on them, the speeder's repulsors whining when the craft begins to dip again, a small scattering of shots being returned while the soldiers seek out cover.

But it's the Cathar firing alone when Hadrix sets off at a run when he sees the tumbling by Kael and Wun, jetpack igniting when the Sullustan drops while the human manages to make. Thundering after to snake his fingers around one of the jowled alien's arm to arrest the fall and heft him up to the roof he'd missed, <"Try not to die on us here."> growled out.

The port continues its panicked search for grenadiers and means to put out the fires... But at least Siywa's trek to her ship is being less difficult, even if its been a poodoo sort of day.

Once Nerys was certain that her map would lead her fellow demolitionist to the right location, she took a moment to catch sight of him, signaling with her hand that she would work on the ones to the left, and then headed in that direction. She moved as carefully here as she had done when she was working her way through the city. A thoughtful expression, before she retrieved the charges from her pack, nimble hands keeping pace with her steps as she moved to the two nearest tanks, placing the charges and syncing the detonation switches. Once she was certain they would do as intended, just managing to avoid the third she tried to plant from exploding in her hands, she hit the comms, <<"My charges are set, on my way out of the port.">>

Kael climbs up from where he'd taken a short rest because that last roof was scary... sighting down his pistols at some of the militia troopers below he starts to fire off bolts of blaster fire dropping one of them, <<"Lets see some fireworks soon?">>

Schmoozing... Shitmoozing really.

Siywa still tries to keep a low profile because this place is on high alert and there's only so many times she can tell people she caught a bad case of the Dumps from eating fresh Talusian cuisine. Thankfully, Veika has the ramp down, but he's being given the time to go motion from one of the deck chiefs now that the cargohold is loaded. Which definitely isn't stolen property and not at all why Siywa actually took the mission. This is NOT how Corsec is paying her.

As she runs up the ramp, the twin Dugs stare at her with a look of aghast horror, the state she's in. Covered in so much poo... It is the eldest (by several seconds) that speaks. "Do we even want to know?" To which she shakes her head, <<"Turd-grenades.">> Says Beeds, in Siywa's voice.

As she's running down the hallway, stripping off her armor. Even hopping at one point to pull off her boots, until she's down to her skivies when she drops down into the pilots seat. Is it even an action sequence if someone doesn't narrowly escape in their underwear?

To be clear, she's only doing that because they were covered in crap.

De-El, a rather prim looking repair droid in a navy blue droid sized coveralls steps out of one of the access panels and stares at the dirty clothes laid in the long corridor leading to the cockpit. "This is inappropriate. No.. it's churlish. I am not paid enough to clean up laundry." To which he turns and stalks back into the terminal room from which he'd come, still complaining. "I cannot believe I am employed by such savages!" Muffled voice.

As the Down and Out preps, begins to lift off, and circle towards the meetup by way of a long circumnavigation of the complex to keep people from being suspicious. <<"Veika, Veirkwa, turrets... just to be on the safe-side.">> Team comms, <<"I'm inbound, ramps down. I can provide some cover fire if you're coming in hot, but we need to gee tea ef oh brother the ef outta here.">>

Cadogan West takes note of Nerys only long enough to give a short nod and see which fuel tank she's starting with, so he can plant charges on an adjacent tank. The big fuel tanks are heavily reinforced with multiple layers of failure, and the Tionese outlaw places several small charges to blast out a chunk in a way that (hopefully) will guide the resulting inferno of fire and shrapnel toward another tank. <<"Charges set,">> he echoes Nerys a moment later. <<"Heading out with ya, we all gonna want to be getting outta here, real quick like. Ye want fireworks, yeah? Watch this...">>

Shots rain upwards at Terek's position, one of them reflecting off of the plate on his torso. He changes positions a bit, trying to adjust where he's at, and sets up the rifle again, firing another shot. Having to move, he doesn't have the time to prepare, and this time only manages to sever a militia shooter's leg at the knee. They can replace that with a cybernetic if they get him off the battlefield.

<"Shields are back online."> Comes the update from Krayt, <"Good, get moving towards the port, we're getting out of here before this place goes up!. Cover our retreat!"> The Droideka folds back up into a ball and begins to roll back towards the port, waiting for a chance to pop up and fire.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. And that girl ran from rancors. Not for love, but for money. Perhaps there was some memory of that day today, as Nerys sped from the port, weaving and skipping past firefighters and civilians alike, moving at a pace which far and away was beyond what the human body she inhabited was capable of. Not a feat she laid out in the open regualrly, but she usedit today, as she made for the exit, <<"Explosives are counting down, moving to safe distance.">> Whether that was where they were being exfilled, she couldn't say, but soon enough she took a leap, boots igniting as she used the armor's flight capabilities to scan the rooftoops, marking the locations of the team members that she could see on ground and on the buildings. <<"How am I the jetpack now?>>

Cadogan West sprints out after Nerys at a much more 'athletic human in heavy armor' speed than the 'Mechanical Organism Designed Only for Running' speed that his fellow demolitionist is achieving. Still, he reaches the ship with its lowered ramp and leap-grab-hauls himself on board. "I'm on, go!" he hollers toward the cockpit, knowing there are others to be scooped up as he hastens to the cockpit, "Novel flightsuit ye got there-dear GAWD what is that smell??"

The Down and Out lifts off the deck and circles the port in a flash of sublight engines as it spins down to face the lowered ramp for Cadogan and Nerys beating feet away from the target fuel tankers.. With time no longer on their side, the YT-2000 is already starting to calculate the micro-jumps, using a navy bouy just beyond the blockade as a reference point. It definitely requires Siywa to get them there, but she seems confident enough with that as the ship drapes across the duracrete waiting for, first the fleeing pair, <<"I got your beacon, I'm on the way.">> Said to Hadrix and his group atop the buildings laying down covering fire.

Peering up and back at Cadogan, "It's chique Da La Talus because they're all a bu- Hold on." The ship skims up with her pulling hard on the control yolk, pulling the angled front of the freighter over the raised external wall surrounding the port, then higher to skim the top of one building. The pair of turrets unfold and twist around in the hands of the Dug controlling them. <<"Alright, I'm heeeeeee-re...." And she is.

Twisting hard, pulling the throttle back on the right thruster, to circle the ship around so the lowered ramp scraps across the edge of the building to make it easier for those enterting to run up into the ship. So far, there's been no cannon fire from the Smuggler's ship, but if they dare to take a shot at her?

All bets are off.

Kael gives a nod at the exfil call before he heads back a bit further onto the roof to break line of sight of the troopers around. <<"Is there a good point for this roof scoop?">> He glances over at Wun who had been deposited on the roof with hm, "Think he means you with the Sullustan. I'd back away from the edge if I were you. Don't need to add more blaster burns to your face." And then the ship is arriving, "Oh look. Our gallant escape vessel... Lets get on outta here before they start shooting again."

Terek packs up the rifle after that last shot, because it is time to leave. He slings the heavy thing across his back, over his jetpack, and then turns and fires it up, launching off the roof and sailing towards the Down and Out where it's picking everyone up.

<"Krayt, get up here!"> Terek yells over comms, landing on the roof and turning to look down at the street.

The Droideka, rolling at full speed down the street, ramps off of a speeder that had crashed and flipped, launching upwards, sailing over Terek, as the Mandalorian holds up a fist in triumph.

There's only a moment to celebrate, however, as the two of them quickly pile onto the ship, scrambling up the ramp and into the relative safety of the hold, <"We've got to stop meeting like this, Captain."> The cathar offers, after he picks himself up off the deck and finds his way to a seat.

Wun nods at Kael's comment, still dazed, and scoots back, He'll wobble after Kael and stick close.

The fuel pod fitted with charges becomes a blossom that would have been lost in the midday sun were it not for the strength of its blaze. Then the sympathetic detonation of the next. Then the next and the next until all have burst, and the brightness of their immolation silhouettes the port and the buildings closest to it.

The flames and debris hurled ahead of them chase the Down and Out as it heads for the roofs. Figures caught in the expanse of destruction given nary a moment to think, let alone call out before they are wiped out by heat and destructive forces. Durasteel frames in the buildings are softened and deform from pressure, others are blown apart in a cacophonic display.

Even as those on the roof make their way up the ships ramp, half of a Delta shuttle spins by, slamming into the roof of a building before its trajectory is shifted and the flaming wreck is speared into the side of a building, crashing through walls and causing supports of floors above to be reduced to ruin. Setting off chain reactions within.

Panic ensues and fills the streets as flames and debris clouds begin to rush out in the wake of the fireball, expanding from the blackened pit of the fuel depot and the five jets of flame being spewed to the skies above, darkening with smoke clouds, as still pressurized fuel only continues to feed like a gravesite bestowed with eternal flames of remembrance.

The Down and Out rises for the sky, thrusters blazing at full strength and the ramp only sealing moments before leaving atmosphere.

Wun carefully lines up on a Militia soldier and fires off two quick shots, both good. The soldier is hit hard, and down, but not dead. He turns to Kael and says "Should we move to the port now?"