Log:Hutt Cartel: A Public Execution

A Public Execution

OOC Date: October 17, 2016
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Eebua Gnuda, Sugg, Tarion Tavers, Alana Zee, Oriana, Naelyn, Ambrosia Greystorm, Sar Yavok, Gren Delede, Sabella Lockhart, Jehni'va Cihn, Sajin, Qadira Suuryet, The Hutt Cartel, Defiance, The Resistance, Kath Hounds, Nar Shaddaa Civil War

The whispers and outright shouts of both outrage and support have caught and spread across the Smuggler's Moon like wildfire throughout the day. As hour by hour crept along, tensions from both Hutt supporters and enemy alike have wound tighter and tighter until finally we come to the appointed hour. Lord Eebua's Starport, as it is now officially named, has been transformed throughout the day. Those ships that are generally found dotting the main flight deck have been ordered back, clearing a wide open area in the middle of the port. A stage has been erected a short distance away from the statue of Lord Eebua Gnuda, and on either side of the flight deck enormous Holo-displays have been set up. Toward the far side of the port, near where the Hutt Cartel has their hangar, the news team of Marnok Sabosen stand broadcasting live footage of the scene.

The large holo-displays flash to life directly at the appointed hour, and Lord Eebua Gnuda himself is viewed upon his throne, the enormous crimson Hutt reclining comfortably atop his white marble dais, the golden crown affixed to his head. "Greetings citizens of Nar Shaddaa!" his voice booms, echoing loudly across the starport from the large speakers stationed regularly around the landing pad. "Welcome to this viewing of justice being served at long last to criminals who have wronged you. Criminals that have taken what they want from you when you cannot defend yourselves! Criminals who have taken food from the mouths of your children! Criminals one and all, who will meet this punishment to show you all that under the reign of Lord Eebua Gnuda, you will finally have the fairness that you deserve! Bring them out!" Immediately, a contingent of Hutt loyal forces flood from the Cartel hangar, moving to assigned positions around the hangar, and following along in a single file line behind them six persons of varying size, all hooded with a black covering secured tightly around their heads and a cord running from one to the next through manacles at their wrists.

Yas is there among the crowd. Just another face among the spectators, expression a bit grim perhaps.. but unarmed or armored. Just a merchant coming to watch for some clue as to the fate of the future of the moon.

What does one wear to an execution? Black seems to be the color of choice. There's a certain slender and androgynous dancer who can be found in the crowd. Skin-tight clothing as usual, veil over the back of his braided hair and over his mouth and nose leaving only his eyes exposed as he bobs and weaves around people gathered with a serpentine grace trying to get a good spot to witness what is supposed to go down. With the veils, his gender is even more obscure but he tilts his head back a bit, scanning the area, eyes falling on Eebua on his throne, eyeing his crown with a thoughtful expression.

On the far side of the hangar, within easy sight of the stage, a swoop is parked with a loudly dressed Rodian perched on top. Both of his feet are slung over on one side, one booted foot propped up upon the fender while the other dangles down on the foot rest. He has one elbow propped on his bent knee and his chin rests in an orange hand as he watches the prisoners marching out. There is a malicious look in his golden eyes and his right hand plays with the blaster at his hip absently.

On an adjacent swoop parked right next to the other, an apathetic man stares disinterestedly on as the prisoners file across the tarmac to be tried. Tarion glances over at his companion in the eye-catching leathers before turning his attention back towards center stage, the weight of the blaster rifle heavy across his back. Armor plating peeks out from beneath his own jacket, the paranoia of being in Hutt employ beginning to creep into his psyche. As the drizzling rain patters down, he remarks in a dead-pan tone, "Nice weather for an execution.”

Skulking round the edges of Lord Gnuda's entourage is a small slim blonde human woman by the name of Alana Zee. She's conversing with a guard here, a bystander there, just a few words as she offers a radiant grin at each in turn, favoring them with her eyes and smile. It's not what you know, it's who you know, right? And to that old adage may be added the corollary, 'that might keep you alive’.

The Crawler lurks nearby a harmless, hulking beast. Like so many cattle hunched in a cold field, the shuttle lies snug and dormant outside the cleared hangar, innocent and quiet on the pad. Inside, the ship is just as quiet; the pilot's feet are kicked up on the dark dash, propped next to a taxidermy lothcat (who she appears to have dressed in a pair of goggles and a scarf). Jehni'va Cihn, who is not out in the thick of that right now, is elated - she isn't watching these guys get executed, she isn't in the /way/, she isn't going to get taken out by any explosions today! She is sitting, and she is waiting, and she is watching. Not directly, of course, but she can hear the just of it over those speakers, and see the corner of a holoprojection if she cranes her neck.

The news of this has spurred on interest from many, including Oriana. Her arrive is quiet, and looming against a wall, off to the side, wanting to avoid the rain. Her armour is worn, with further necessities like her vibrosword, throwing daggers strapped around her leg and a bandolier, her trusted one, with grenades around her chest. While leaning against the wall, one leg is bent, the foot pressing against it. In her hands is a throwing knife, the tip against a gloves finger, her other hand rolling it from side to side. It's a casual motion, she doesn't seem to be doing more than hanging out. Looking up as the Hutt speaks, she tilts her head a little, seemingly interested in what he has to say.

Sajin Kovo Kah, the Hapen Mercenary is scaling the wall along with Oriana. He wears the lighter version of the same model of armor Oriana is wearing. He has his Axe, his sword, that dagger and his newly modified blaster. Though, all these things he usually carried on his person anyways. This time he might actually have to use them. He keeps quiet, a bit of jerky hanging from his lips. He dosn't chew it, just lets it sit there and follows Oriana's lead.

The prisoners are led single file through the crowd of spectators, receiving a chorus of jeers and cries for mercy alike. Several of the more riled up spectators reach out and attempt to strike the prisoners, a goal that the Trandoshan guards leading them are only too willing to oblige, slowing the march so that fists can connect. When the procession of prisoners finally crests the stage, they are led to stand in a line across the front of the platform. Lord Eebua stares down at them through the holo-display, purple eyes burning into them with an intensity that is almost hot enough to reach out and touch. "Prisoners, you have been discovered to be traitors to the people of Nar Shaddaa. You have admitted your treason to me in person, and therefore a repeat of your profession of guilt is not needed! If any of you has a last word, forgiveness to plead for in your sins, speak now." There a short pause, at which point a rotten piece of fruit flies from the back of the crowd and strikes the smallest prisoner in the head, causing it to stumble and fall to its knees before being jerked back upright by one of the guards. "No? In that case, forward with the execution!" A team of six Trandoshan executioners move forward, fitting a peculiar sort of electrical noose around the necks of the prisoners and sliding the knots tighter.

Yas keeps his mouth in a straight, expressionless line as he watches the prisoners be marched forward. His head tilts up to watch the large holo displays since he is too far away see the real thing and he lets out a sigh.

Naelyn's expression is hidden behind his veils, save for the flicker of intense focus in his eyes as he glances from Eebua, then to the prisoners and then back to the Eebua holo-display and then back to the Prisoners and he takes a deep breath. The dancer carefully slips a hand into his robes to pull out a clear datapad, fingers tapping and sliding with careful precision before he presses two fingers to his ear and speaks softly. His voice soft and lilting, with that Accented Basic that adds a purr to his rr and ss sounds. The question comes over the loudspeakers that were formerly broadcasting Eebua's declarations. "I'm sorry My Lord....and those gathered today, but if we have been so wronged, then why can we not look upon the faces of those who have wronged us so before they are executed?”

Sugg, the Rodian swooper, leans forward on his swoop as the prisoners make the platform. He giggles slightly in response to what Tarion says and nods his head in agreement. "True enough, brother," he says to his swoop brethren. As the moment for last words stretches empty across the crowd, Sugg's eyes shift to scan the crowd, particularly when the piece of fruit flies to strike the prisoner in the face, keying in on who looks pleased with the action and who doesn't. It is in this cursory circuit of the Starport that his eyes settle on a strange sight, given the setting of a public execution. A woman armed to the teeth with grenades, blasters and knives. He watches her for a moment before reaching out to nudge Tarion and pointing her direction with a chin nod. "Check her out... Ishn't that the woman from the park? What do you think shhe is doing here? Eshpecially armed like that?" His voice drips with suspicion, regardless of the lisp imposed on his communication from his Rodian lips fumbling with the Basic language. So focused is he on this grenade toting woman, that even Naelyn's commandeering of the P.A. doesn't pull his gaze back to the main show.

"Well then," Tarion mutters, raising an eyebrow as apparently there will be no public trial. "Who's the Hutt's publicist?" he wonders aloud, presumably to Sugg, shaking his head at the missed opportunity and swiping his hand back through his hair, pushing the unruly bangs back off his forehead. But then Sugg points out Oriana, and his brows draw together. "Nothing good.”

Alana settles on a crate to watch, swinging her legs and chewing on a leg of some unidentifiable animal leg she has purchased from an anonymous street vendor. It's best not to enquire too closely as to the nature of the animal in question, but it certainly smells delicious, and it drips grease down her fingers and down her chin onto her clothes. She's uncaring of the mess it's making, watching the proceedings with gleeful eyes.

Aboard the Crawler, Jehn pauses in her safe, cozy reverie to perk at the sounds of a familiar - and /not/ terrifying - voice. That'll be Naelyn then. Her seat creaks as she leans forward onto the console, and she turns the Lothcat so that Crawley can face out the window as well. Watching, waiting, not in the way - the Jehni'va way.

Oriana turns her head a little, looking over to Sugg and Tarion, watching them for a second. It's such an odd contrast, those warm spiced brown eyes, and here decked out in armour and weapons. She taps something on her ear, but it's not to them, its like she is responding to something and pushes off from the wall, her foot kicking up her helmet in one easy move. Turning to Sajin a hand comes up while she smirks, going to tug at that jerk he's holding in his mouth. "Seems it's time for some thrilling heroics." With another turn, she goes to head towards the crowed while shoving that throwing dagger back in place. Game on.

Sajin narrows his brows in disapointment as Oriana takes the jerky from his mouth. He chews on the bit that got stuck in his lips and swallows. "It helps me concentrate..." He says to her with a sigh. He keeps to her side and follows along with her. He may not have been noticed as a threat unlike her but of course, that could likely work to his advantage... or not.

The Hutt is holding a public execution? This presents a perfect oppurtunity for the good people of the Resistance to quite publically announce that they, indeed,are present on the Smuggler's Moon. A formation of two ships, a T-65c X-wing sporting a visible Phoenix, and a HWK-290 have made their way to the recently renamed spaceport, cruising covertly through the Moon's urban canyons.Now, as they approach...the X-wing's engines flare, and the starfighter lifts above the surrounding buildings, course shifting sligtly as it burns toward its target.

<<<Let's do this. Weapons free. I'm saying hi. Can? Let's mark those air defense. We'll hit them on the next pass. Stick with me, Mynock.>>> The Coruscanti pilot smiles behind his blast shield, and with a flick of a switch, his s-foils lock into their iconic attack position. As air defenses begin to pick up on the unannounced guests, the old surplus fighter's weapon systems are put to use. A quad burst of laser fire is directed toward the large statue of Eebua the Hutt that sits atop the main terminal. It is a direct hit, but before damage can be assessed, the X-wing is flicking past its target, and looping around to make another pass on the spaceport. Mynock's pilot (Sar Yavok) was not so sharp, and managed to take a hit from a defensive battery. Hopefully the mechanic on board can handle the resulting damage.

<<Stick with me!?>> Sar barks, jerking the yoke to the side in an attempt to avoid the incoming AAA fire. He does a pretty good job, but some flak pops very near to him and digs some (mostly) superficial damage into the side of the otherwise undamaged heavy fighter.

<<You gotta warn me quicker than that, you dick.>> he remarks, squeezing the firing nubs on his flight stick and sending another burst into the statue.

Sabella Lockheart is honestly not fully certain how she managed to get pull in on his 'mission' though she is ther in the Mynock with Sar, lifting her head slightly at the approaching fire as she hears something catch the side of the ship. << Oh good giref, I think it was close enough! >> She is still not one thrilled with being in a ship with things firing at them thank you. She shifts in her seat lifting he head in some attempt to look at the screens to make sur everything is working well, that is what she is there for after all.

So this is how a reeking lump of galactic jetsam, aka Nar Shaddaa, gets stinkier. Nothing fouls the ambient mood quite like a public execution...of some folks that may or may not have deserved what they've been sentenced for. She did get ripped off by a street vendor here once, and for all her bitching and moaning to the port authorities, she never did see those fourteen credits again. Other than that experience, Major Greystorm's having a tough time coming up with a reason for why these poor bastards ought to bite the dust. But it ain't her call.

What she IS in charge of, in this moment, is trying to keep scope of the whole situation from an old boot's level while her boys in the sky rain some hell. And...take some hell. Ambrosia lowers her binocs from her squinting eyes as the Mynock roars through and stuffs them into her belt before tapping at her temple and cuing up a little cam clipped into the greying locks. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon..." she mumbles to herself and shoves off the abandoned cart she was leaning against to advance on the rear of the crowd from the ramp, eyes on the holovid as the overhead chaos erupts. Her sauntering gait moves well through the outer layer of bodies, keeping shoulder bumps and 'beg pardons' to a minimum while bracing for whatever stampede's to come. With luck, it'll clear the crowd faster and make her route to the heart of the matter a little more direct. Or she'll get trampled underfoot. That's honestly a possibility, as she feels a flutter go through her ticker. She take her pill today? "Shit." That's a no. Oh well!. Fingertips graze the tip of her blade's handle against her thigh as she marches on.

There is a moment where surprise registers on the face of Lord Eebua Gnuda on the large holo-displays. Surprise turns quickly into recognition as the corners of his mouth lift upward in a smile before he says, "Ahhh... Naelyn. Why am I not surprised to find you here and trying to stand in the way of justice? You see citizens? I try to deliver justice to you, and still there are those who would stand in the way of tha-" The Hutt trails off abruptly as the scream of fighters cut through the P.A. speakers to him and anti aircraft turrets atop of Lord Eebua's Starport spring to life, spinning on their stations. His eyes widen as Gren's fighter swoops low over the starport and opens fire on the golden statue and he howls in outrage, "Enough! Kill the prisoners!" With that, the screens go black, the brightness from the displays causing a darkness above that was not there before as night settles over the Starport. Sar Yavok's fighter takes a smattering of damage along the outside, but true to his mechanic's analysis is not too terrible. Far above the Starport, the sight of what would appear large shooting stars but are actually a large squadron of Hutt Loyal fighters cutting through the atmosphere and racing toward the conflict, lights the sky even as anti-aircraft turrets fill the nighttime sky with arcs of red blaster fire racing out to attempt and strike down Gren and Sar.

Pandemonium breaks out on the flight deck as screams of civilians rend the air, and then the steady stomp of feet as people attempt to flee. On the stage, a Trandoshan runs across and jerks a lever, electricity racing along the wire leads attached to the nooses and electrifying them even as the traps are pulled from beneath the prisoners' feet, dropping them to hang and jerk wildly as electricity courses through their necks and races along their bodies.

Yas ducks instinctively at the sound of the anti-air craft batteries, the fighters soaring overhead and the weapons. He curses and moves with the mob of the crowd to start making his way for the exit.

There are surprises and there are...surprises. Naelyn, standing there really was just trying to get a reveal to verify some information for himself and then...THERE WAS A FIRE FIGHT! He disconnects his wireless connection from the PA, but not before over the speaker there's a 'SERIOUSLY YOU BITCHES?!' it just slips out, really. As the peaceeful little monkey jumps into a backflip to avoid getting ran over by fleeing people and he lands in a crouch with a soft hiss. Then he takes off running towards the stage, speaking softly over his comm piece. "Long Beauty...are you seeing this shit?" That's to Jehni.

Sugg ducks his head briefly as the fighters race overhead and then he lifts back upright and looks toward where Oriana is moving with purpose toward the stage. "It'sh a trap!" he says to Tarion, his Rodian lisp as present as ever as he repeats with a yell to alert his Hutt allies over the running of the civilians, "IT'SH A DAMN TRAP!" He hops up atop the seat of his swoop and pulls out his blaster pistol. From this range and given his target, it is a shot beyond him, but he squeezes the trigger regardless. One blaster bolt races over head and pings a poor screaming woman near the back of the crowd in the head, a second squeeze and the blaster bolt dances harmlessly off of the wall. "Ssshit," he curses.

"It's a trap!" Tarion agrees, pulling his carbine over his shoulder to blast away at the woman the Rodian had pointed out beforehand, shouting into his comm unit, "It's a trap!" Who knows if he hit her, that's not in the Star Wars tradition anyway. What matters is the /shot./ "We need to get the Hutt out of here," he yells to his companion, in a sudden flash of clarity. A master tactician in the making, he follows this observation with "Before they blow his slugbutt off the tarmac!”

With her cheek pressed against the Crawler's display, Jehn watches the Resistance crew come sweeping by overhead. "Oooooh shit!" She commentates, cupping a palm across her upper lip; the flames from Eebua's grotesque statue are reflected in her eyes. <<This is Crawler.>> Jehni'va's voice crackles over the coms to Oriana and Sajin. She pulls the goggles over the stuffed lothcat's eyes, and then mirrors the gesture with her own, human pair. <<Ready to->> And then there is a heartwrenching stillness, those executions broadcast through the flame of the attack. The comm goes silent from the pilot for a moment of private rage; a balled fist strikes the Crawler's console with a strangled shout. Alright, new plan: kill these bitches. Or... Look threatening and guard the car while /they/ kill these bitches.

Strapped into the pilot's chair, Jehn returns to Oriana and Sajin's coms. <<Call me in if you need out of there.>> She growls before switching her focus to her second link. <<You bet your sweet ass I am.>> A jumbled moment of seething and hesitation. <<On standby for evac... Or retrieving the bodies, chaos permitting.>> The Crawler, while the apple of the tall woman's eye, is ill equipped for a firefight. Chaos permitting indeed.

Her helmet is slid on. Oriana isn't that sweet, easy going self right now. Before the helmet was settled into spot her eyes would take on that hard, warrior look. Cold and hard. No longer is she that tree hugging princess. As Sugg shoots at her, she doesn't even flinch. It might help if he could shoot straight mind you. "Darling." Says the woman simply, her voice going through the com, though she is talking to Sajin, knowing what his move will be while she goes to focus on hers, "Sweetie, be ready in there." This is said to Jehni. Then another round of shots and there is a shake of her head. "If this is what that Hutt Lord has for people he's better off hiring Stormtroopers, they aim better!" Pulling up her blaster as she pushes through the crowd, unwavering under the sound if fighting she fires at the guy who got to the lever, knocking him down.

Sajin looks to where the bolts aimed for Oriana come from and those brows of his narrow. Hazel eyes turn to steel and his jaw sets strait. He takes his DL-30, newly fixed with a new barrel and a sight, his thumb flicks the safety off as he stands holding the pistol in one hand. It dosn't take long for him to bead up a center mass shot, a professional one. Not trying anything fancy like a green rookie. This guy has experiance. Swiftly he squeezes the trigger twice. "Come at me, Bro..." He says under his breath ready to put anyone into the ground that might come after Oriana.

<<<Stop crying, keep flying. Bogies incoming. We make another pass on the spaceport, and then engage the slime fighters.>> Gren replies somewhat tersely over the comms, as he continues to shuck and dive through the sky. There's a bloody lot of incoming fire, but he's good and lucky enough to avoid taking any hits, despite flying an overrated old bird. The X-wing's laser cannons continue to do their job, as he successfully strafes a pair of defense stations, and then sighs, as he's able to take a moment to glance at his screen. <<<Sar. Can says shit is going to...well, shit. If you want to set down, I'll keep these assholes busy.">>> Because that's how they roll. He'll solo the Hutt squadron, if need be. How maneuverable can fighters designed for those lard-tubs be? And hey, it might get him out of range of the remaining AA for a bit.

“This is all goin' to shit, yes," Sar says, squinting into the confined of the virtual reality helmet that comes standard with the 290, as someone forgot to install windows.

<<Takin' her down,>> he says into his comms, gripping the yoke and doing his best to guide the bulky fighter into a landing.

Unfortunately, the Mynock catches another burst of AAA fire and Yavok over corrects, putting the bird down hard, and skidding roughly along the ground in front of the execution stage, crushing a few "innocents".

"Aw, hell," he says as sirens start going off in the cockpit. He pulls the helmet from his head and let's it drop to the ground, standing up and grabbing for the F-11 next to his chair. "Sabella, get her flying again, I got something I gotta do.”

“Please tell me his joking... Your not really going tot ake her down..." Sabella offers in a bit of a scramble as she hears the words from Gren and then Sar as sh turns to send a 'look' towards Sar though it is unseen thanks to the helmet. The ship goes down and she mutters at the crunching of things outsie. "Sar..." Is stated with a faint tone as she is shifting in her seat and flicking the controls to get the ship back into the air before all starts to break lose again. "Just stay in one piece." Hopfully all will go well!

"Aww....sod it." Ambrosia grumps as the lights go out...then come back on, in the form of twitchy figurines. The smell of burning hair and scalding shit just really makes the evening memorable, if the warbling cries of those still alive - least fortunate - don't just top it off. Her right hand snatches something off her pants and keeps it defensively held as she tucks her head and scrambles against the flow, trying not to stab any civvies or herself. If she can find whatever rigged up generator nearby might be powering this freakshow, maybe she can kill it before they become literal toast.

"Boss, you seeing this or is there a turret still up your a--" her yell into her shoulder trails off as the Mynock goes skidding into some bodies and paving the way. "That is NOT good PR," she oofs, muscling through a failed two-step that failed to avoid the flailing panic of a rushing bystander. "Yell if you're dying! I'm gonna cut that switch." Maybe.

Kadi has lost track of time. This is not a good thing as she's in a rush on the way back to the Waywards hangar, just as a crowd seems to start stampeding in the other direction. She's actually unaware of what is going on at the moment, having just missed the unhappy event. This leaves poor Kadi, along with Lily and Fluffy, to be fighting salmon-like upstream towards home. Her eyes widen, she doesn't even think to pull her hood up for the additional protection, though the sound of ships overhead has her stop stand still and stare for a moment, before she cusses, while she stands, looking here there and everywhere trying to figure out what to do. "Fluffy, Lily, stay with me," she manages to start, and then she starts forward. Step by step. She gets an elbow to the side from someone on the way back, and then nearly knocked off her feet. Her dancing is all made up of two left feet, and she steps on someone's foot, who yowls loudly, and swings a punch that connects, sending Kadi back three steps. "Hey!" she protests, just as Lily brings out her little electric zapper thing and startles the heck out of the being who punched Kadi. Fluffy growls, and the being backs off, stepping on someone else's toes and maybe starting a small domino effect in that area of the starport. It might even be noticeable. Kadi's eyes are watering, and she rubs at her cheek - which is already looking like it's been hit. Which it has. Painful, and it will bruise, but luckily nothing is broken. She thinks. "Damn it, that hurts. C'mon, Fluffy, Lily. Let's get out of here!”

As Sar Yavok's fighter is struck by the AAC fire, holes are hammered into the side of the fighter and alarms sound loudly from the computer system, while on the other side the hull of the fighter crushes civilians between the corner and the ground. Blood coats the side of the Mynock along with deep gouges in the hull. Overhead, Gren is able to fire at the AAC turrets, taking out two and reducing them to an explosion of fire and smoke. Far above, the squadrons of Hutt fighters dive down and soon the two Resistance fighters, one of which is on the flight deck, are now vastly outnumbered. Blaster fire erupts overhead as fighters engage Gren, three headhunters diving in on his tail. They fly in a tight V formation, the middle and left fighters opening fire and connecting with Gren, while the third goes wide. The landed Mynock takes another solid hit from above as another fighter races across overhead and then arcs high above to make a return trip.

On the ground, pandemonium still reigns as civilians are caught in the crossfire, or squashed by landing ships. They simply cannot get to the exit ramp quickly enough. On the stage, Oriana knocked aside one Trandoshan, leaving four still standing, while the prisoners still hang in electro-strangulation.

Yas keeps moving towards the exit along with the rest of the panicked herd. He slows as he comes up along side of a twi'lek woman that had fallen and been trampled, her leg bent an an awkward angle below the knee, but still alert enough to be screaming. Nearly without breaking stride he reaches down to hook a hand under her arm and pulls her up off the ground and over his shoulders to keep moving towards the exit.

So much noise, so much chaos, the smells...the sounds...the feelings. Naelyn looks over his shoulder briefly as the pandemonium to him is in slow motion, eyes flicking from person to person, calculating falls or flights due to blaster fire or other chaotic happenings. He slows everything The slender dancer however is veiled, so moving like a shadow around soon to be corpses and over fallen over equipment at a quick speed, headed for the side of the stage where he pauses only to slip a silver knife from his boot, putting it between his teeth and then he drops to his knees and is busy crawling under the stage, not caring about getting dirty at this point just groping and feeling around for the necessary cable, gripping it and then tugging it a few times.

Okay, so perhaps standing up on the seat of your swoop is not the BEST place to be when in a gun fight, especially when not wearing armor. Sugg just has time to register the shots fired his way when the first connects center mass in his chest and he is thrown from the swoop. His hands pillow out in front of him, his blaster only managing not to fly free of his hand due to the wide finger pad that is hung in the trigger. His eyes go wide in shock before drifting into unconsciousness as his shoulders take the lead in the fall moments before his back connects hard with the flight deck. His head smacks against the metal gridwork hard with a sickening crunch and he lays there in a spreadeagled fashion, not moving.

"Krif," Tarion half-yells as Sugg hits the deck. Everything he does is in half to full yell at this point. "Sodding X-wings!" Was definitely not the X-wing that did this, but. The amateur bounty hunter takes to his knees next to his fallen swoop compatriot, hurriedly pulling his medpac from the saddlebag of his own bike, undoing the zippers for the first time and fishing ineptly about for something that would help. Eventually his fingers fall on what's probably (hopefully) bacta, and with a muttered curse he empties the contents of the packet onto Sugg's chest, effectively preventing any sunburn the Rodian might have contracted due to his exposed wound, but little else.

As the spacebattle kicks off overhead and the ground battle before her, Alana Zee's eyes widen in shock, and then amusement. Then she's being enveloped by the panicking crowd, flowing like water around the cargo container on which she's sitting. It's large enough and sturdy enough and tall enough that she's not in danger of being trampled or the container being toppled, so she draws up her legs to sit cross-legged, lest anyone try to grab her and pull her down, and continues to munch contentedly on her animal leg. She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and lets out a whoop as the Trandoshan starts the execution of the prisoners, and lets out a louder whoop as she sees a mass of bodies go down in the trample for the exits. The concept that the X-wing and its accompanying wingman (or even friendly fire from the Hutt fighters) might target her, does not enter her mind. This is ENTERTAINMENT. She belches appreciatively. Just like Eebua, except for the size, weight, physiognomy, hair, species, clothing, wealth, and gender. So entirely not just like Eebua, really.

Computers aren't her specialty, but Jehn is dilligently trying to weedle something out of her datapad. Nothing. She pulls up the connection to Naelyn once again. "That is a negative on the electrical." Her voice sounds harsh. "I can't get past the security, but I can.. " She is interrupted by Sar's crash and grits her teeth at the rain of fire and death from above. Shit. Long fingers clench the console in frustrated inaction ? they?ve got innocents dying out there while she hides in the tin can. Granted, she was pleased as punch about this before. Still to Naelyn: "They won?t last forever, I can have the Crawler incoming for? Bodies if nothing else. But not yours - evac on the way." In its forgotten corner of the hangar, a shuttle hums to life. To Oriana and Sajin, her voice returns. "This is Crawler, I'm coming in - if you're not ready to get the hell out of here, get ready. Aiming for the stage, see you on the other side." And with that, the unarmed Crawler lumbers into the action and careens for the stage and its hanging occupants.

Oriana pushes her way through the people - literally. Any who get in her way, are shoved aside. She's pushing against the chaos and making her way to that stage. "Good shot darling." Says the woman, with a brief glance over her shoulder before and then spotting.. Amber. Bringing up her hand she cup it around her mouth, yelling at the Major. "MAJOR! I'LL GET THE SHITHEADS ON THE STAGE TRY TO GET THE LEVER!" It's yelled as loud as she can make it, because it's noisy including the battle above. There is a motion with her blaster to the level, to help point out where it is so she know. "Darling," She says to Sajin in the mic, "If you've got a chance babe, mind getting those asshats on the stage?" Hers is put away, to be replaced with her vibrosword. "Working on getting them free sweetie!" Saying it quick to Jehni while rushing to the stage hopping up to it easily, bringing that sword 'round on the first guy she meets. Charging him, he has no chance because with a swift spin, his head is lobbed off, for what is quickly becoming her signature move, he's decapitate which leaves his head to, with a thunk, fall from the stage to the ground. The second guy, he isn't lucky enough to have a quick fate because he too is charged, her sword shoved into his chest, but the move misses his heart, coming into the shoulder and out the other side. With a grunt and curse, the blade would be yanked out in a unforgiving manner.

Sajin rushes in with Oriana, putting his blaster back into it's holster at his hip and drawing his Vibroblade from his back. As she goes after one and makes an attack, he notices the guard getting up as Oriana is focused on another targer. He swings down with the blade and it sparks off the durocrete of the starport as the guard dodges. Gritting his teeth, the handsome hapen plunges his blade into the wounded guard and twists before pulling it out with a grunt. He looks to Oriana and nods, moving up to the stage to see what he can do but he's not exactly overly tech savy with these things, “Ah..."

That's a lot of Headhunters. Headhunters are shit, of course...but that is a lot of them. Gren's eyes narrow, and as the dogfight begins, he finds himself more than a little outnumbered. And he's not in his bloody A-wing. Which might have saved his life, even if it meant tanking a hit or fifteen. Sparks are flying, and smoke is starting to fill his cockpit. Spark One is missing atleast a foot and a half of a portside s-foil, and the world might be on fire. <<<Damn. I'm out. Get the fuck out, Sar. I'll draw off what I can.>>> It doesn't stop him from counter-attacking as best as he can. A pair of torpedos are released toward the attacking Headhunters, and then the X-wing rolls over and heads toward the canyons below. <<<Make it look bad, Can! And get Phoenix ready to recieve a fucked up starfighter.>>> It already looks bad, but even more smoke starts to pour out of the backend as the starfighter tries to draw atleast some fighters away from the spaceport, and toward the waiting Carrack-class Phoenix in the vicinity of Corestar. That'd be a nice surprise for any pursuit, to be sure. And keep eyes away from other areas of the Moon.

Sar Yavok slaps the "open" button next to the sliding hatch and says, "Sabella, get you ass to work!" The bulky door slides out of his way and he steps out of the Mynock, heavy blaster rifle pressed against his shoulder. One squeeze of the trigger, and the remaining Trandoshan's head is actually obliterated. Another squeeze and a screaming bolt flies its way toward one of the swoopmen (Tarion).

"Major, I want those prisoners secured fifteen minutes ago, dammit!" He looks around, nothing the pool of blood that was there when he landed. <<Copy that, Spark Leader. I'll have to show you how to fly, sometime.>>

A finger is pointed at Amber, "Get the fucking lead out!"

With the ship getting hit left an right yelps and perhaps a few cuss words escapes Sabella from within the fallen ship. "STOP SHOOTING AT US!!" Because /that/ is going to work! She is soon thick into work pulling thing here, yanking things there as soon the helmet is off. A few tools are pulled free from her belt and sh is muttering as she ehars Sar. "I'm trying! You had to land /here/ of all places?!?! What the heck is wrong with you Sar??" She snaps out at him as she works to get the ship up and going before everything start alling apart around them.

There's a voice in her head. It's not coming from the com, that much Ambrosia's certain. She thinks. Sounds a little more faint, fragmented between airstrikes and all, like one of those auditory hallucinations she's /not/ (wink wink) been having since her return from the aftervoid. Demo Girl? Demo girl! Greystorm Sr squints, trying to focus in on Oriana's phasmic visage behind the crackling sparks. A trace of a smile crinkles in her eyes' corners to find her former dagger still in the right corner. Her mouth balances this mirth by twisting into an envious frown that Ori's so much closer to the 'fun' part than herself. Probably for the best, the damn young thing. Sar's snap and own manic pointing disrupts this wandering line of thought and her face settles back into its natural scowl. Eventually, her focus hones in on whatever it is Oriana's flailing at. Oh. Shit, there it is.

She nods and banks along the stage with a low, slinking scurry to the stairs nearest the control box and wicked little lever. Up she goes, trading toy for gun as the new grip for old, old DY fits snugly in hand. Except there's no need to shoot the box. They've stopped jerking around and simply hang. A spark of new life kicks into her non bionic knee and the Major's boots pound the stage noisily as she charges the nearest prisoner with raised blaster, stopping short enough to smell the poor bastard before reeeaching to nuzzle the barrel against the slower-swaying tether and blast it apart just above the prisoner's bagged head.

Ships firing? Wait - this is - Kadi gets shoved by someone and shoves back instinctively. Though she's small, there's a guardian dogrobot right there with her, and it's likely Fluffy's growl that has the shoved sentient back off, more so than kadi's scowl. Especially with the bruise forming. Kadi's not looking much like she can hold her own in a paper bag, never mind a fight. She comes to a stop as she spies the bodies hanging, even if she's not near to them enough to do much of anything. Yet. "Stars and - damn it all, that is horrible." She swallows, going a bit pale. The next guy who shoves her because she's in the way, he gets a surprise. Kadi throws up all over him.

The sound of AAC fire and the firefight from Resistance and Hutt fighters alike fill the air, and then there is the crash of two Hutt fighters as they scream down, one crashing quite near the slowly drifting Crawler as it moves for the stage and erupting in a burst of flame. As Ambrosia blasts the cord hanging one prisoner, the body falls straight through the trap door beneath the stage where Naelyn is with a loud thud. It lays still, though checking the body's pulse will reveal a faint heartbeat.

As Gren bugs out and flees the Starport, several fighters follow along after him, attempting to strike down the enemy fighter as they make off into the darkness of night. Not all leave, however, and soon there are Hutt fighters targeting the stage and the terrorists that are attempting to free the prisoners. Laser Cannon fire blasts down in heavy curtains, striking all around the stage and two ships that remain.

Naelyn has unplugged everything and he rolls over onto his back, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he listens closely to try to figure out what's going on up there because from where he is he just sees swinging bodies. He just takes a deep breath, and then another deep breath.

When the Mynock unleashes withering fire on the swoop bikes, Tarion is innocently tending his fallen comrade with what may be the worst medical care anyone has ever received, only for a blast with enough force to stop a charging rancor in its tracks to catch him across the back. The ball of energy tears up across his back and shoulder in the blink of an eye, melting the plates of his armor into his flesh even as it rips a savage gouge through a fairly vital area. Collapsing in a heap, the young hunter goes down, smoke rising from his ruined body.

It's getting a little too hot, metaphorically and literally, for Alana Zee. As the Hutt fighters target the stage, the stage she'd specifically come close to get a decent view of, she decides that prudence is called for. Yes, she does do prudence from time to time. She slips off the cargo container and heads for some back ways out that she knows, her vibroblade palmed in her hand lest she be accosted or followed. And if she is, well, what's one more body tonight? Provided it's not hers.

Aaaaand right into the thick of it, there we go. Yes, look at all those Hutt ships: all those nice, perky Headhunters. "I DON'T HAVE GUNS ON THIS THING; WE GOTTA GO!" Jehn's voice shouts through her comlinks, sufficiently stressed out, to Oriana and Sajin, tjen Naelyn on his respective com. Quite intent on not causing anymore collateral damage than she needs to, the Crawler careens into action by skirting the crowds and swinging drunkenly (but harmlessly) into position behind the line of hanging prisoners. She narrowly avoids a certain fiery death along the way.

There is a crash as the ramp tumbles down to the stage and the pilot waits at the opening, strands of hair whipping free of her bun to flap around her face. It's carnage outside the Crawler, and they need to hurry if they want to avoid being a contribution to it. BOOM! Jehn is /so/ done with explosions! Another one close by bucks the ground beneath her, only adding to the urgency. Now that the collective 'terrorist' is cutting the prisoners down, she lunges forward to help them drag the dead and nearly dead aboard the humble shuttle before it can be blown out from behind her.

There is a bit of a turn as Sar finishes off the last guy, he gets a salute, it's brief becaue there are people hanging and dieing. "Nice to see you again Major!" Oriana says to Amber, with grunt as she goes to help people get down. "Yes sweetie we're working as fast as we can it's no cake walk down here!" She says back to Jehni in her com. "Hurry now lets get them on the ship and some place safe!" From there she'd go to help those onto the crawler, to get them out of there.

Sajin dosn't know anyone here except for Oriana. He hadn't notice Yas in the crowd and then there was Nealyn but he never really spoke to him very much if at all. He helps cut the ropes with his blade or helps pick them up and put them in the crawler or shuttle or where ever they're going. Which ever and where ever he's needed he is there to help out and work fast and quietly.

One. *WHUMP* Ambrosia's chin drops, watching the prisoner go freely through the open hatch. Whoops. Stepping AROUND the big hole, she hurries up to the next unfortunate soul and hooks one arm around their waist before taking aim and severing the cord. *CRACK* Goes her knee as it hits the deck before releasing the body from the awkward, one-armed bear hug for a much gentler, less meaty plop below. TWO. "Nice ride," the Major grunts in return, eyeballing the crawler as it lumbers in at high speed to join the party. Seeing that Ori and the other guy have evidently got this under control - with medical (?) evac, no less - the old rebel jerks a thumb towards Sar's splattered ship. That's /her/ evac. Maybe. "Guess I'll be seeing you around."

Not keen on sticking around to see what else can explode in this port tonight, so thunderously close to self, she jumps off stage, stumble-rolls, and pops up trotting for the Mynock. Just a little huffing and puffing, nothing broken, no blood!

"Man, I never shoulda let Kasi keep that ship," Sar muses to himself, as the unknown, but largely known collaborators load the would-be victims onto the Crawler.

"No, Major; it's fine. Just take all the time you need." He jerks his head towards the interior of the Mynock and turns to board it again.

Sabella, I swear you better have this girl purring, or I'm kickin' your ass out the airlock, and smackin' your daddy for makin' you," he says this with a grin as he tucks his F-11 into the chair-side holster and moves to have a seat. He sets the helmet on and flips some switches. Things are working, if not ideally. "Buckle up, Hounds," he says as the Mynock lifts off of the bloodied tarmac. The heavy gimbals spin and fire spouts from the angled engines, sending the heavy fighter/light freighter into the Nar Shaddaan sky.

Kadi gets turned around after she manages to get away from the guy she just lost her lunch all over. He's really not happy about it, but Kadi did not stick around to talk about it. She took off running, Lily behind, but Fluffy easily keeping up. Which way is up now? And down? And "where the heck is my hangar?!" Kadi growls with more than a little bit of frustration showing. "Who does this sort of crap - I mean, what the bloody hell - I swear I'm going to move to Naboo." There's a bunch of other mangled words, some of them apparently in Shyriiwook, and there's at least one cuss word in Echani thrown in for good measure. Kadi even stomps her foot before she gets her bearings and heads THATAWAY!

Naelyn is tired, and small and he is tugging/dragging the one prisoner who fell under the stage half on top of him out from under the stage with enough strength to help get him loaded onto the Crawler before he waves a hand to gesture for the Crawler to get and get gone before he drops back down beside the stage, half laying under it and half not, hand resting on his chest as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and then another. He'll find his own way home, he always does.

"And we're going, going, going!" Jehn chants impatiently, mostly to herself. She can't leave the Crawler there for long before these assholes sharpen their aim. With a strained grunt, she finishes her prisoner-dragging duties and throws herself into the pilot's chair because they need to /get gone/. "SEATBELTS!" She hollers over her shoulder as the human woman throws her weight into the controls and shakes the Crawler free of the ruined stage with a shudder and a labored roar. Trying not to focus on the carnage she's burning them away from, the pilot turns the taxidermy lothcat away from the shuttle's display. Sorry Crawley, he's seen some shit. “'m coming back if you're not safe at home by a decent hour, Naelyn.” Jehn's voice crackles over the comms one last time before it returns to static silence.

With people saved and in ship, after making sure all are secure Ori would find a spot, buckle up and with the rest, depart.

Sajin would do the same thing as Oriana, finding a seat next to her, though keeping his hand on the grip of his holstered blaster... just incase.

As the Mynock launches into the air and punches a hole through the swarming fighters, Sar will find them tailed into the darkness in much the same way as Gren did. But after a short distance, the Headhunters circle back to ensure the safety of Lord Eebua's Starport. The Crawler is able to escape in this window with the rescued executives in tow aboard their ship. When the Defiance members finally see fit to pull the hoods from the prisoners, they will find them all collared with a nasty looking device, one and all. At the center of the collar, an angry red light blinks. The further that the ship flies, the faster the light blinks until all at once, the prisoners begin to gag and choke. Smoke wafts from where the collars meet their flesh, and then the flesh is eaten away as an aggressive substance is injected into the prisoners' flesh, eating through their wind pipes and killing the unfortunate souls.

Back atop Lord Eebua's Starport, Marnok Sabosen and his news team step beneath the overhang where they had taken shelter just beneath the eave of the Hutt Cartel hangar. The camera team performs a sweep of the carnage of the flight deck, flowing across the damaged statue of Lord Eebua, two unfortunate souls shot down beside their speeders, and the numerous civilians shot down and crushed by the Mynock. Marnok himself steps before the camera after the sweep of the devastation at the hands of the Resistance and other terrorists and begins to address the camera in solemn and sad tones.