Log:Defiance Guild: Terrible Tarion: Fury Toad
Terrible Tarion: Fury Toad
OOC Date: August 28, 2017
Location: Klatooine
Participants: Defiance: Jehni'va Cihn, Nyla Forr, Trillian Taim, Sapphira Solari, and Kasia Ashkuri as the GM.
'Members of the Defiance Guild go to rescue slaves, and Tarion reveals a new obsession with toads.'
We're going back to our roots here, granted they're shallow roots at this point since Deifance isn't quite a year old, but it has roots now, and they're all tangled up in slave rescue. Which is to say, this mission today is just that. "It's a plantation on Klatooine, paddy frogs if it matters, but it doesn't. We're not there to save the frogs, we're there for the slaves. We have a narrow window because tonight, they're throwing a party, which means the security there will be focused more on keeping the house and everyone in it safe, and less focused on the slaves. We just got credentials to be in the area, so we shouldn't arouse any suspicion." This is Kasia speaking, and she's standing in front of a holo map of said plantation, it's large, a big manor house where the party is happening, and further back on the property is the slave quarters. "We're going to come in from the back, it's a shorter trip, fewer people to see us. We might run into some security, so be ready to fight, but don't pick any unnecessary fights if we can get in and out without it." It's an easy plan, ok ka.
So that's the planning portion of the trip done, and then everyone is loaded onto a ship, they're using Hexy bbies ship, and with everyone loaded on board, they're off. Kasia is flying, and has the coms all set up so that everyone can talk while preparations are being made. "We're almost there, everyone get ready to move as soon as we land. I'm going to stay here so we can take off as soon as possible." There's some crackle over the coms, but her voice can be heard clearly enough as they approach the outskirts of the plantation.
Sapphira is here! Sullen, but here. She's in the engine room making those bbies sing. Her bruised face is healing; thanks to the batca patch the cut is entirely gone, but there's still some shadowed discoloration on her temple and a light streak on her cheekbone. Her hair is pulled back in a braid and pinned up in a bun, and she wears fitted pants, boots, and a tank top as she works. Quietly, and as far out of the way as possible.
"Can we try to save at least /one/ frog?" Jehni'va asks in a low, wounded puppy voice as she fusses with her straps. She's armed, kind of (Nyla is there and that counts), but had the sense to abandon her usual, disgusting jumpsuit in favor of clothing that looks lightly used, if not new! Black pants, a belt, and a white shirt - very Han Solo of her. Well done, Jehn, well done. Her hair is still a mess, dragged back into one long braid down the center of her back with too many flyaways to look 'good'. "Not even one?"
Trillian is also here. And she's uncomfortably dressed in a tactical jumpsuit. It's much tighter than she expected, which is odd coming from somebody who wears a flightsuit most of the time. She tugs at the her close-fitting torso again uncomfortably. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and braided, allowing her to fit the commlink to her ear without getting tangled up. She's nervously sitting in one of the flight chairs, fidgeting. She looks like she wants to get up to check on Sapphira, but instead just sits, tapping her toe and brooding.
Tarion Tavers, amateur bounty hunter and professional asshole, is decked out in his usual armor, which means he has one less thing to do when it's time to get ready. He pushes himself up out of the seat using his rifle, and asks questions over the comm unit because he is not a good employee. "Kasia, I really think we ought to look into this frog situation a little more thoroughly, I mean, what if they're worth a fair turn on the black market? They have to be valuable to bother with slave operations just to harvest them. Maybe we should grab a couple just in case."
Nyla Forr is there, piecing together her armor as she listens. "Shit, does this go here?" the short droid mechanic wonders, spinning in a circle attempting to wrestle her shoulder pauldron in place. She scowls at it, bumping into Jehn. "We all know you're going to snatch a frog anyways, Jehni'va," she chastises and bats at the girl. "Help me with this armor, dammit!"
The ramp to the ship lowers and immediately everyone can tell that it's hot. HOT. The sun is down, but it still feels like an oven, heat radiating up from the ground, which is is dry and cracked, it's not seen moisture in a long time. There isn't much in the way of cover here, but that's basically true of the area, a cluster of pitiful looking trees, some dry brush, the best cover they've got right now is the fact that the moon isn't up yet, so it's dark where they are, but the plantation itself is LIT UP. It's a fair distance away, but it's ablaze with lights right now, and you can hear the sound of smooth jizz on the air. The slave quarters isn't far, though, just a few minutes by foot if people really hustle. "No frogs unless you just find one sitting out somewhere," Kasia replies over the coms to both Jehn and Tarion. "We were able to get in because of the party, and if we're lucky, no one will notice us while we're here, but you need to move fast because we're only going to go unnoticed for so long, and we don't want to mess with their security forces if we can help it. Move, keep the com chatter to a minimum, get the slaves and get out."
"Ma'am, your obfuscating jammer is running a little hot on the engine," Sapphira's voice crackles over the com. "I'll stay behind and keep it going as long as I can with manual power transfers. It'll overheat eventually, but not yet." And so Sapphira goes quiet, remaining in a tank top, in the engine room, where's it's safe and loud and there are no people or frogs.
"Fine." Jehn gripes at Nyla, unbuckling her precious seatbelt to help the mechanic with her armor. "But you know I'm /much/ better at taking it-" She pauses, thinking better of the words about to leave her mouth, and instead hums an awkward note with a glance at the other Deflings as she ties the shoulder plate into place. That's right, shut your dumb mouth, Jehn. Shut it /tight/ and change the subject. "We can put a bigger tank on the new ship!" She whispers excitedly, still stuck on the frogs and - for once - agreeing with Tarion on the prospect of nabbing a few. Sapphira's call forces a soft curse from Jehn, though. "I'll stay behind and help - the coils on these get testy." The pilot hooks her hand at Nyla's armored elbow before she disembarks. "Get me a frog, please?" She begs before turning to slip back into the engine room with Sapphira - forcing her to deal with at least one people. Blah, blah, technical stuff!
Trillian gets to her feet, but before loading out with everybody else, goes to the engine room door, behind Jehn. As she slips in, Trillian calls out through the door. "... Sapph? I... um.... I... um.... I just want to say... um.... stay... safe... and stuff... ok?" Trillian says quietly as the door closes shut. "I... um... I'm sorry." Wiping her eyes she walks quickly back over to where Tarion and Nyla are disembarking. "What did you need me to do again?" she asks the two much more capable field agents.
"You people are chatty," Tarion remarks, racking back the rack on his rifle and letting it slam forward, seating the energy cell with a dull whine. The G8 in his hands is locked and loaded and ready to shoot angry red bolts or whatever the action text says. "Let's go already. We got a party to crash." With that, the bounty hunter is out of the ship and headed down the ramp into Space Oklahoma, immediately commenting over the comms that "This place is the devil's asshole, isn't it? What the krif kind of frog lives here? This seems like toad country. Kasia, I'm gonna bring you a toad worth at least fifty credits, don't worry." And then he's leading the way toward the slave quarters, using the night vision on his helmet.
Nyla Forr grouses, rolling her eyes as Jehn speaks. She settles her eyes down, trying to focus on the mission at hand. The helmet of the armor is picked up and plopped on her head, the short, armored female looking up at Jehn. There is an audible sigh. "Okay, Jehn. I'll try to get you a frog." And she's sincere about it. Nyla grabs her blaster, turns around to head off the ship, and angles her helmeted head towards Trillian. "Hey!" Nyla says to Jehn, spinning around and pointing at the pilot with the hand free of a blaster. "At least we're not as obvious as these two!" The pointed finger flips over towards Trillian and an hidden smile erupts under the reflective visor. Still walking backwards, Nyla exits the ship. "Mother of moons it's hot as hell!" is the last thing she says as she wanders out.
"I don't need frogs, just get the slaves," Kasia protests, her voice crackling worse than usual over the coms. The trip to the slave quarters is a largely uneventful one, the most exciting thing that might happen along the way is that the ground is uneven and craggy, making it easy to trip. It basically is Space Oklahoma during a drought, if the sun were out, they'd see it's all gross shades of brown, and brown, and maybe a little beige, and tan. It does make one wonder how any sort of frog lives here, but there are lots of other buildings on the property, and fenced areas, and lots of equipment, so they probably make it work somehow. The slave quarter is a single story building with only a couple of windows that are very high up in the wall, making escape more difficult for the slaves, there is a back door, and a front, both doors are recessed so that though a dim light shines outside of the door, the doorway itself is cast in shadow, making it hard to see if anyone is there.
Squinting through the night vision toward the dim light by each door, peering past the light with difficulty toward the recessed space behind the lighting. "...I see a guard out front," he whispers quietly over comms, deciding that "I'm gonna head for the back." He slips off through the craggy terrain, moving with surprising ease towards the back door, his G8 rifle cradled like a baby in his arms. He arrives there shortly, folding himself against the wall near the door.
Droids. Nyla spies the little sentry mechanisms backlit in the dim light of the party. Quietly she skirts to the back of the group, fetching her datapad from it's holster in her belt and flipping it on. "Careful," she warns the others and bends her helmet down awkwardly to look at the datapad and hid it's faint glow from the droids or the party, even if the chance it'd be seen is slim. Tap tap tap. "I'm forwarding maps of this place to you all. The colored paths are the droid's loops. I've diverted the pair that come up this way, we won't be seeing them. But if anyone gets separated, avoid the rest of these, okay?" And with a small flick she ships off the droid-path map to the others that have their datapads on them.
Trillian checks her tiny blaster for the umpteenth time and nervously holsters it. Her datapad flashes as Nyla's datastream comes flowing across the screen. Turning the glare down on the pad, it dimly shows cris-crossing paths and a faint outline of the house. "um... ok...." Trillian whispers into her comms, and then wincing as she turns down the gain. "Sorry."
Tarion is correct that there is a guard at the front, when he points it out, anyone who looks might notice the occasional dot of orange-red color that is the cherry on a cigarette. The guard is bored, however, clearly not expecting anything to go wrong, and lazily relying on the security droids that are no longer going to be coming by. The back door of the place is unguarded, for whoever circles around the building, there is another dim light back there, and a panel on the door that requires some sort of code to access it.
Nyla juggles her datapad back into it's holster and regrips her blaster, watching for a moment as the droids that were supposed to come by simply don't. "Good. We're clear on the droids here." And then she starts moving forward, picking a good path as she goes.
Trillian is sticking to Nyla like glue. Since she doesn't know what else to do in the field. Good lord, who put Trillian in the field? She's an analyst, for krif's sake... Still, she's trying to be good about following her, albeit a little bit clumsier.
"There's a panel back here," Tarion advises over the comms. "I don't want to screw it up, one of you analyst-y types come help me crack the code or whatever. Or we can just shoot it or something." The bounty hunter waits around the back of the building, hoping one or both of the women will head his way.
Nyla Forr glances over her shoulder. "You alright?" she asks of the other Defiance lady. Under the visor concern presses on her face and is evident in her voice. "It's an easy mission, ok ka?" The joke hums quietly from her com. Of course, Tarion has to /ruin/ it. "Don't shoot it!" she hisses. She starts making her way towards Tarion's position hastily. "We're coming in. We'll be on your left. Don't. Shoot." Because she knows him. Nyla scoots up to the panel and starts to fiddle.
The fiddling is successful, and snick, the locks disengage on the doors thanks to Nyla's efforts, the door swinging inward to reveal a short, dim hall. There are doors on either side of the hall, one leading to what seems like a large refresher built to handle multiple people, and the other side, a kitchen area to feed the slaves. There's another door, though this one is unlocked, that leads into a single, poorly lit large room that has dozens of narrow bunks that along the center of the room are the standard bunk bed design, along the walls, they go up to three beds high. Many of the beds are occupied by exhausted slaves, but a few slaves are still awake, huddled in corners of the room having quiet conversation.
There is some crackling over the coms, but if something is being said over them, no voice is coming through.
Trillian tries to calm herself. Apologizing to Nyla, she moves out of the way to let the more competent woman take the lead. She pulls her Czerka out and holds it at the ready, standing by the door and looking around.
When the doors open up, Tarion slips inside, moving quickly and with his rifle held at the ready. Despite his bungling exterior, things seem to manage to work out for him more often than not, weirdly, and he heads straight toward the door at the end of the hall with the verbal reasoning of "Well, it's got to be the one at the end," and heading through into the bunkroom. "Behold!" he announces, "your liberators!"
"S'fine," Nyla assures the other woman. "Keep watch towards the house and keep your eyes on that datapad. If the droids stray from their paths, you'll be able to tell." What she doesn't mention is that if they do, someone already knows they're there. By the time she looks back Tarion has gona Leeroy Jenkins on them and is inside. "Sonuva..." she starts in after Tarion. "Oh my gods," Nyla groans as she hears his announcement.
Trillian calls out to Nyla in a louder than anticipated whisper as she slips in after Tarion. "Wait, I thought we were supposed to..." Trillian then breaks off, looking around alarmed at her loud whisper. "I thought we were being subtle and quiet!" she whispers again, but doesn't hear any reply. She moves back to her post at the door, watching the paths of the droids and nervously fretting.
The slaves notice the door opening and freeze, it's out of habit, attentive, wary, even more so when it's an armed, and unfamiliar face that's coming through the door. They don't jump up and cheer their would be rescuers, they look afraid. Some of them do slowly get to their feet, looking unsure of whether or not to fight, or flee. "Who are you?" asks a voice from the front of the room, but it's softly spoken, as though afraid to raise their voice too loud for fear of getting the attention of those outside of this room.
"Your saviors, you ignorant slaves!" Tarion cries, his ears picking up the sound of the door starting to work and putting two and two together. The guard, the door, the noise, he's coming in. The bounty hunter drops his rifle into position, drawing a quick bead on the door, and blasting it. A hole goes clean through and clean through the poor smoking bastard outside. "See? We're here to save you. From the horrible slavers. Pack your things, whatever uh. Whatever sort of little playthings you use to amuse yourselves."
There is something akin to feral rage that creeps into the grinding growl behind Nyla's tone. "Asshole." Her elbow cocks to hit Tarion square in the chest but he's busy killing someone or something and she misses. Nyla curses and picks her way to the back. "Ignore that idiot. He's hired help," she promises the slaves. "Who needs help moving to the ship? Any of you who are strong and capable, please help the weaker ones. If we move quickly, we can save everyone without another incident." Do they have enough room? Nyla doesn't know, but she sounds fairly convincing.
That shot burns through the door, which was not designed to stand up to combat, and hits the man on the other side. Right in the chest. Oof. There is a heavy thud of a body hitting the ground, and no more sound from outside the door. There's no telling if he alerted anyone else, but if not, he won't be doing so now.
Some of the slaves cringe back and whimper at the sound of the blaster fire, but others seem emboldened by it. Between that, and Nyla's plea, several more slaves are on their feet now, helping the weaker among them up. "Where do we go?" asks a woman, she looks as though she's seen better days, both malnourished, and mistreated, but not broken by it. Not yet.
It may be a tight squeeze on the ship, but there are plenty of spaces to cram people, so it'll work. Right? Hopefully.
"Slaves of Ka-Tatooine, unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains and the frogs, it's gonna be a huge upgrade, right? We've got whiskey on the ship, get your shit and follow us. Nyla here is a great warrior. Among the greatest ever seen," Tarion rants, first hoisting his rifle aloft and then waving a broad, praise-heaping hand at the little droid lady in the heavy armor. "She will watch over you and guide you back to the ship." What's he doing, then? "Nyla I'm gonna look for frogs," he coughs at her.
Nyla Forr rolls her eyes as she helps some of the slaves up, the armor probably helping her augment some strength a tad. She has her arm around an elderly Chiss who looks like he should have retired years ago. You know, if there was such a thing as retirement in slavery. "If you aren't back at the ship by the time these people are loaded, we're leaving you." And she doesn't even /slightly/ sound like she's kidding. "Also save one for Jehn." And then Nyla is moving out with the slaves, reconvening with Trilliant to lead them back to the ship.
Whatever slaves may have doubted still seem convinced enough that they're all on their feet, and helping others up to move toward the back door with the great warrior, Nyla. It's not a quick progress, it's going to take some time to get these poor people to the ship, but thankfully there are strong bodies among the slaves to assist with that. There is some hushed whispering among the slaves, but otherwise they're quiet, shuffling along obediently.
The map that they had does have a layout of the entire plantation, but the only parts that are well labeled on this map are those that were relevant to the plan itself, the slave quarters, the main plantation house, the rest are buildings that are clearly storage facilities and work sites, but it'll take some deduction to sort out where to go for frogs.
Tarion Tavers, Frog Collector, heads out the front door which the dead guard conveniently unlocked, looking around and comparing what he sees to the map in his hands, lips pursing thoughtfully. "Looks like it's that way," he decides eventually, stepping off in that direction. Except he immediately trips over the dead guard and falls on the ground, his rifle clattering on the dry ground and his helmet flying off. The rifle even fires another shot. "Krif."
So yeah, the slaves are all seen off to the ship, not a care in the world. Which would have meant that the plan, more or less, went off without too much trouble, but people just haaaaaaaaaaad to get frogs. That might've gone fine too, were it not for the blaster fire. There's the sound of a com going off in the dead man's ear, it's faint, but Tarion is on the ground near enough to him that he'll hear a tiny voice speaking, even if the words on their own are unclear. A little ping on the map Nyla provided will signify that one of the security droids has changed course from its usual path, and is now headed in this direction to investigate.
Tarion hears the voice, he sees the dot, he knows not what they mean exactly because he wasn't paying attention, but he knows that they are Bad. Things are not going well with this frog collecting venture. "Krif," he mutters under his breath, reaching out to grab his helmet and shove it back on his head for the night vision and dragging his rifle over. Deciding to make a break for it, he scrambles over the dead body with some difficulty, finally managing to get upright and heading for the supply shed that hopefully houses the frogs. There's no real cover out here, but that's fine, he's fast, right? Wrong, it's a long way and the droid is definitely going to see him.
Trudge, trudge, this is a style of security droid that walks, rather than hovers, which means that Tavers has a little time to get out of sight. It's just not enough time, because Tarion decided to make a run for the money. Which is to be expected, really, given who this is. "Halt!" The security droid has spotted him from a distance. "Identify yourself, or be fired on!" It's a nasal sort of voice, who knows why they chose that voice for this model, it doesn't sound terribly threatening, but the weapon it carries and aims in Tarion's direction is an indication that it's maybe not quite so derpy as it sounds. It's also likely, because the droid has spotted him, that others on the plantation will soon be alerted to an intruder. At least when said intruder fails to identify himself.
Tarion runs, the droid trudges, but it's just too far and he's seen. Halt, the droid says, so Tarion halts, and he pulls up his rifle at the same time. "I'm the breaker of chains, you kriffing trashbucket!" the bounty hunter yells, and pulls the trigger. A bright red bolt flashes across the space between them, smashing into it and spinning it around, stopping the droid in its tracks. It's still twitching, though, suspicious twitching. The hunter glares at it, suspiciously.
Tarion is just on a shooting rampage today, and though the droid manages to squeeze off a shot as well, it's hit at the same time as it fires, so the shot is off, and the droid's target isn't nearly so injured as he could be. Crash, down it goes with a clatter of metallic limps and sad fizzling sounds. The sounds continue, it's still operating on some level, but Tarion fried it enough with that shot that it's not able to fight anymore.
Tarion, hit by the droid, frowns and raises his rifle again, shooting at the droid another time, intent on destroying the thing for having the audacity to interrupt him. "I just want some kriffing frogs, you git," he mutters, keeping the rifle in his hands as he lowers it to peer at the smoking shape. Then he's heading for the supply shack again.
The trip to the storage building -- it's totally not a shack -- isn't fast, because it's going to require that Tarion move in bursts and then stop and drop to the ground to not be spotted by droids, and other living guards, as they pass by. There is an increase in activity heading toward the slave quarters now, and as Tarion reaches the building, he'll hear a crackly, "Tavers, where the hell are you? If you're not dead you'd better get here soon or you're going to have to find another ride home!" It's Ka$ia issuing the threat, so it's serious business here.
The door to the building is protected much like the slave quarters, a keypad that requires a code to get inside, but no external security otherwise.
At that, Tarion pulls up abruptly, a look of confusion flashing across his face, trying to figure out wtf is Kasia's problem. Doesn't she want the frog money? "Kasia, I know you want these frogs as bad as I do," he confides quietly to his comm unit as he crawls through the bushes, twigs shoved into the cracks and straps of his helmet as natural camouflage. Except it's a dry area, so they're like really spindly pieces of dried out grass. As many as he could get to stick. When he arrives at the storage /building,/ he sidles up next to the keypad and hooks a device into the side of it, running a brief executable and hitting a button when he figures it's close enough.
It's not close enough. "Access denied," a soft voice informs him.
"You're confusing me with Jehn," Kasia informs him blandly over the coms, and then goes quiet, busy trying to situate the mess of slaves back on the ship. It's only after the 'Access denied' voice sounds that the more familiar money giver comes over the coms again. "Tarion, you have maybe five minutes and then you're going to have to figure out a way out yourself, they're going to spot us any minute now and then we're in trouble." Which means he's got some real limited time to work with here if he wants to leave with the group. At least if he wants to leave with them as planned.
"Krif," Tarion mutters as Space Mom I'd Like to Finance gives her ultimatum, and starts thinking of the thing that would be most unlikely to work that has a chance of working in this situation. That's probably how he gets through life, really. He pulls an extra powerpack out, tapes it to the side of the keypad, smacks it a good one with the butt of his rifle, wincing as he expects it could explode right then, takes a step back when it doesn't, and shoots it.
The beefed-up powerpack capable of storing roughly five times the power of a normal one blows half the door off, and the bounty hunter darts inside with not a moment to lose.
The SMILF on the coms doesn't respond to the cursing, nor does she say anything else just now, once again too busy keeping things in order to chide the wayward Space Misfit that's in her employ.
The powerpack, thankfully, doesn't explode when he hits it, but it does when he shoots it. BOOM. Well, okay, it's a limited boom, but it's more than enough to alert security, who is no doubt going to be heading this way any minute now. That might help the ship from being spotted though, at least for the moment, but things are going to heat up fast. It's also plenty of explosion to make it possible for Tarion to open the door.
The inside of the storage unit is large, and... largely empty. There just aren't that many paddy frogs here right now, there are some small cases that contain the live creatures that are packed up for shipping, a couple of them already loaded up on the back of a hover vehicle that's used to haul them into the larger shipping containers, but aside from other equipment and shelving, that's about all that's in the main area in the storage building.
Against all odds, the keys are right there on the seat of the hovercraft. Tarion hits the button to open the big doors to drive the vehicle out and then hops up onto the seat, firing it up so that the repulsorlifts can whine into life. Everything whines when you turn it on in Star Wars, whine whine whine. "Kasia, get the cargo bay ready," he advises, shoving the throttle forward and pushing the craft out the door.
Thankfully it's a small craft, and a wide door, it doesn't go fast, the vehicle isn't designed for speed, so we're talking like 20mph max, it's a hauler, not a racer. There are lights that come to life, the sort that are automatic on vehicles, and then an optional single lantern type on the front to light up the ground, should he so choose.
"JUST HURRY!" comes the demand over the com again, sounding more and more angry, and more like a threat to the steady paycheck that Tarion earns. "HALT!" comes another voice, and then echoed from the distance, another nasal, "Halt!" Two more of those droids are there now, and both are now opening fire without issuing further warning. One shot goes wide because it's fired just as Tarion turns, the other hits the vehicle itself, scarring the exterior of the transport, but not hitting Tarion this time.
The hovercraft is annoyingly slow. "Are you kriffing kidding me, what is this shit," the bounty hunter raves, shoving the throttle back and forth erratically trying to jar it out of the 'wrong' speed, which we can all agree is far too slow for a high speed chase. "Come on come on /come on/." He's frowning furiously in the driver seat, trying to eke out a little more oomph from the engines, but it just keeps motoring forward at a steady pace. The hunter's driving, focused on speed rather than things like, you know, /driving/, also has the bad luck to crash directly into a gnarled, twisted tree a short distance from the ship. This prompts the exasperated man to jump up, shoot the thing in the center console, and leap over the edge to run around to the back and haul out a box of frogs. So armed, he starts awkwardly hustling toward the ship. "I'm coming! Open the ramp!"
That poor, scraggly tree is dead now too, the third fatality at the hands of Tarion Tavers tonight, but it didn't have much of a life here anyway. The one container that he carries is heavy, liquid sloshing inside as he books it for the ship. The lights on the ship are out save for a couple on either side of the loading ramp that flicker to life. It's that, and the sound of frightened slaves that will guide the murderous frog thief onto the ship, and once he's on board, a voice will call out to the cockpit, "He's here, let's go!" Who said that? Nyla, maybe, it sounded super annoyed. Up goes the ramp as the engines fire up, and though the droids fire on the much larger target, anything more powerful isn't able to target the ship before they're speeding off with a box of frogs, and a whole lot of liberated slaves.
