Log:Mandalorians: Fight at The Museum
Mandalorians raid The Collection.
OOC Date: June 21, 2022
Location: An Unknown Starbase in Corporate Space
Participants: Sumi Kora, Valeska Kora, Hahtavi Kora, Fae Renta, Nix and Hadrix Kora as GM Mandalorians, Clan Kora
Operating as a landing craft, of sorts, the Woor'tra had finished shaking after forcing a docking clamp onto one of the dorsal curves of the space station that data cores from Tion had led the Mandalorians to. The stations's shields had been battered by concentrated fire by the Old and Busted while Kyr'am Ra Kote poured anti-fighter and point defense fire out to keep the path clear once the Marauder had the station shields failing in large enough gaps for the blockade runner to get through.
<<"Alright, data shows it's Iron that this so called Collector has. Unknown if its armor, weapons or both. But it doesn't belong to them.">> Hadrix's voice over comms, kneeling over the station hull beneath the bay doors of the Woor'tra's drop section. Checking on cutting charges and breeching demo being put in place by Clankah, the old geonosian battle droid working in silence other than the sounds of its feet.
The station itself wasn't particularly significant in size. Practically a Skyhook in mass, like an extravagant private mansion orbiting a blue star in orbit to keep it from view of the few planets and moons in the system. Large enough to have defenses, not large enough to provide the threat of a private army - if the half squadron of old T-65s now smoking ruins in space were any evidence of.
The bay doors sweep shut as Hadrix speaks, Clankah hopping out and checking a datapad, <<"Sweep and clear: get what's ours, if they decide to fight to the bitter that's on them. Woor'Tra has scanners sweeping for Beskar so we'll get some idea of where to go. But this collector is Corporate; means they're going to have toys and want to keep what they've acquired.">> as if on queue, beneath the reinforced doors there is a 'WHUMP' of a detonation and the doors begin to re-open, smoke billowing out and the light the station within shining through in greasy lines.
<<"In we go, verde. On the bounce!">>
The tale continues and Valeska can feel them closing in on this target. Finding out the rekker has beskar does answer a lot of questions. From her first day meeting them, the Kora never did seem like the art collecting types. Closing in on a iron-thief definitely tracks better with all the trouble they've gone through to get this far.
She checks the charge on her carbine and nods. Enough to get through this mission, surely. Maybe bolster it with a few grenades. Although... <<"One of these days, I really ought to get back into melee, yeah? Worked really well during that tournament we were in with the... what were they again?">> She shrugs. <<"Gotta do another one of those.">>
The door is open and the order to move out is called, Valeska follows in step. <<"Time for fireworks, yeah?">>
The cylinder on Sumi's enforcer .48 spools before snapping shut within its receiver, the single-action hammer locked back with her thumb, then the weapon is placed back in its holster on her leg with the restraining strap unfastened. She adjusts her cape to settle away from the weapon, leaving it visible and available, but does not draw it until necessary. The orders seem clear enough, so she's waiting for the door to open and for the crew to spill out, not feeling much in the way of speaking.
Likely Hahtavi was flying his Kimogila to help clear the way for them and having landed on Old and Busted, the ramikad has grabbed his rifle, grenades and other things and hustled to their debarkation point. Boots hit the steel decking as they start moving.
<<"Understood, Al'verde.">> Hahtavi starts moving through the smoke as soon as the doors are reopening, not waiting for it to clear. He gets moving, looking for targets, ears on for directions to move, keeping an eye out for cover as things heat up, rifle in his hands
Fae Renta jostles about in the cargo hatch of the Woor'tra, an irritated expression given over her shoulder in the general direction of the cockpit. It's followed by an exasperated huff and a fumbling attempt to unclasp the helmet from the little hitch on her right hip. She wanted to fly the Kyber in as well and while whether or not she could -actually- have landed better remains up for debate, she certainly thinks that she could have. She watches Clankah scuttle down to plant breaching charges, slowly drawing the E-11 from her opposite hip and folding its stock away from the barrel and back towards the rear grip.
"You know..." she murmurs softly, the thump of the charges felt beneath her feet. "Ah, forget it."
She hops down and turns towards the bay-doors that have just begun to open, smoke billowing out. She hasn't yet clipped her helmet on and she immediately regrets it, bit of smoke hitting her lungs and causing her to recoil a touch. That helmet's retrieved and clipped in, the filtration system hard at work to pump purified air into her poor, abused lungs.
<"Wrong kind of smokey eye. Looks terrible on me.">
Valeska's mention of fireworks makes Fae tip her head lightly to the side, a rush of vented smoke pouring out of either side of that T-Shaped visor. <"Wouldn't that be lovely? Fireworks and a bit of Alderaanian brandy."> She yanks back on the safety of her E-11, a hiss of hot air and a dull little -bweeeee- indicating that boi ready to KILL.
The Kora recruit had her armor on, helmet and all so she could try to communicate with the rest of the clan. Her pale eyes glance over to Hadrix but alas all that turns is the t-visor. There is a slow nod of her head and a plan forming by the small Mando. She pulls her gun and looks down the scope. <<"Yes, Al'verde.">> The metallic female voice rings through the comms.
Nix is not a lady who deals with explosives...yet. She listens to the ones who know more and she makes a little noise. She jumps in and keeps low, moving in the smoke. She's trying her best to blend into the walls so that if the fighting starts she can execute the plan to find what is the mando's and get it back to them. While she works on her own plan, Operation Shooty Stabby.
An antechamber of sorts, likely a guard or viewing room, its purpose blurred by the cutting charges. Blasted by the breechers and smashed to flinders by the hunk of bulkhead that had tumbled down, crushing people and a table and its single bounce having sent it flipping up and over to smash into one of the walls.
The hatch leading out is hissing open as the Mandalorians drop in, smoke pulling from the room and putting a hazy highlight aura about those who come in at a rush. A trio of sentients in light armor with an old B-2 class battle droid, clone wars tech, just behind them and with it's weapon arm raised. Weapons drawn and giving a whine of systems charging.
"FREEZE!" The centermost of the trio hollars and it's clearly they had been trained by CorpSec facilities by the manner that they begin to squeeze firing studs at that declaration. Hadrix himself landing and knife-hand pointing towards the guards, <"RAM'OR!"> Charge.
Visibility is low but that is hardly a deterrent as the Mandos rush in and their helmets fill in what the eyes cannot quite make out. Valeska, however, is stuck on fireworks. <<"Hey, that's a killer idea, Fae. Do you think fireworks on Ealor would attract--- Hah! Look at that thing! Doesn't even have a neck!">> It is a good thing droids don't have feelings. <<"Think I trained with a few lugheads like that a few times. Shoulders just go right into the skull, yeah? Makes you wonder how they wipe themselves.">>
All idle chatter while she casually grabs an ion grenade from her belt and activates it. <<"Head's up, tin can!">> It fliiiiies the short distance into the hazy room and lands at the droid's feet in a crackling explosion of electricity. It does drek-all.
<<"Huh. Welp. Nothin' for it, yeah?">> She pulls her carbine back up and continues with the charge. <<"What'cha thinking, Fae? Go to some hostile planet, grill some ribs, light some legit fireworks, fight whatever shows up to the party, yeah?">>
Nothing like some welcoming committee sent out to greet them! Hahtavi barges right out of the smoke and into the chamber, a grenade already in hand. Even as Valeska had the same idea but tried using an ion, he calls over their coms, <<"Frag out!">> and instead of /throwing/ it persay, Hahtavi underhand tosses it to bounce and roll right under the battle droid. It detonates right behind the droid, throwing it forward and doing it some harm.
Spare hand back on his rifle, Haht didn't do it a great deal of harm but he contributes to more smoke and chaos!
In with a bang!
Sumi moves through the opening to join the others, looking up at the B2 a moment and recalling the nasally voice of D4, an old bounty hunting friend. She hesitates to draw on the droid, but counts the others beyond the automaton as foe and draws on them. The pistol is presented and fired in one motion, missing the first shot, but the last two result in a violent kill, and a brutal wounding. Sumi moves to one side in a flutter of capey sounds, her thumb drawing the hammer back with a loud 'clik-clik' in preparation for another shot.
FREEZE!!
<"No!"> Fae says defiantly. She sticks her E-11 up towards the redshirt who issued the command. <"In fact, why don't -you- freeze before I--"> Wellp. That was going to be a bit of Hapan charm, you know? Hit 'em with the ol' 'I'll kill you if you don't lower your weapons, silly boy' antics. Alas. It's not in the cards. Fae's eye twitches behind her T-Shaped visor as grenades go a-flyin' and redshirts start a-dyin'. First is an ion grenade that doesn't -quite- seem to hit its mark. Then Sumi's Morellian handcanon is shorting out her auditory sensor, causing it to sputter and pop, and then Hahtavi launches a fragmentation grenade up up up and awayyyyy... behind the droid.
<"Oh well."> Fae levels her E-11 towards the droid that's spinning about, still reeling from Hahtavi's frag grenade. Two bursts from the carbine are enough to cause it to spin about no more.
She ducks a little behind cover and turns to look at Valeska across from her.
<"...-No- fighting. Just relaxing. You know. Drinks with fruit in them. Swimsuits. Karking..."> Fae twists around and plants another little beam of fire down, to no avail.
<"Karking -vacation-!">
The tiny mando glances at the grenades and the other shots going out. The enemies are dropping fast so she shelves her plan to be sneaky and she lifts up her rifle. <<"Goodnight.">> She says through the visor towards one of the red shirts. The gun is aimed and a slug jerks out of the gun and hits the target. Her eyes slowly turn to Fae and then back to the task at hand. Her feet carry her a little more into the room though she is keeping close to the wall and low. <<"I had an eight year vacation from fighting. Not that relaxing I must say.">> The metallic female voice growls out.
Not a single shot fired by the welcome party. A roar of blaster and slug fire putting a fusillade on them in combination to the ion blast and fragmentation explosion turning where the quartet stood into a blender that rips them in pirouettes to the ground. Barely any time is presented regard them before the shot-blaster toting Al'Verde is chopping his hand forward and starting to move.
<<"Go, before it becomes a bottleneck!">>
The alarm klaxons are still blaring, a pulsing sound that Doppler's by the nature of its sound, following into a short corridor and into what looks like a museum. Transparisteel boxes housing statuary, paintings hung on anti-gravs and displays of fine gem and metalcraft. Creating an uneven check board with small viewing areas containing luxuriant seating.
In fact one of the displays -is- seating. A wide, gray durasteel frame with angular bevels from the arm rests down to the solid base with a wide wingback seat of red clothed cushioning.
More guards can be seen flooding in from hatches around the room, where at the center stand two particularly large displays. One a great red sandstone carving of a humanoid head with even spaced block lines running down the face from carved braids that crown the head. Across the center gathering point from that a gong. A gong that looks like it was made of improperly melted Mandalorian Iron and hung where it is more due to what it's made of, than how it was made.
The next room is a shrine to inflated egos and too much credits to do anything smart with it. Valeska looks over the works of art, the statues, the... gong. It takes her a moment of staring at it -- she's no expert but that gong doesn't look terribly well-made. Wait a minute. <<"Oh, you're rekkin' kidding me. /That's/ what this guy does with our Iron?">> A gloved hand grabs onto another grenade: one that doesn't come with a dazzling light show. A thumb pressing on the button and she holds it up so the guards can see it cooking.
<<"Fireworks!">> She aims for a cluster of hired guns and lobs the frag grenade in their direction: clearly caring nothing for the precious collection gathered in this room. It goes off on impact, shrapnel ripping into a pair of the mercs and causing a load of collateral damage.
Good.
Sumi's handcannon goes off three more times, two shots taken in quick succession by fanning the hammer, but the deed was not done! Her foe hit the ground, clearly not dead yet. Sumi crosses the distance in an urgent, brisk walk and leveled the pistol over their fallen form, locking the hammer back again to the chorus of their pleading for her to stop, and wait.
BOOM!
Whatever life persisted in them was blown out the back in a violent exit wound, and Sumi moved on, locking the hammer back and massaging her wrist. A glance back toward Lady Fae is made, ensuring the one going on about karking vacation was still in the fighting with the rest of them!
Sumi's handcannon goes off three more times, two shots taken in quick succession by fanning the hammer, but the deed was not done! Her foe hit the ground, clearly not dead yet. Sumi crosses the distance in an urgent, brisk walk and leveled the pistol over their fallen form, locking the hammer back again to the chorus of their pleading for her to stop, and wait.
BOOM!
Whatever life persisted in them was blown out the back in a violent exit wound, and Sumi moved on, locking the hammer back and massaging her wrist. A glance back toward Lady Fae is made, ensuring the one going on about karking vacation was still in the fighting with the rest of them!
Hustle-hustle and keep moving. It doesn't take long ere they are entering another chamber within the station, this one clearly packed full of artifacts, art objects, fancy furniture, paintings, and one osik fugly gong. But wait, that gong deserves a second look! Hahtavi does a quick double take at it as they look around. Before he has time to say anything though, company is pounding in, eager to dance with them!
<"Look! More welcoming committee! How sweet!">> He lets his rifle rip, firing shots as the hired help comes running in. His first shot misses as he's still moving himself, but as Haht pauses to take more careful aim, his second shot sweeps one of the armed greeting committee right off her feet. She lands flat on her back with a thump, blood and chunks of burned meat having gushed out through her back and onto the lovely carpet. That'll stain.
It's not like him to talk and fight at the same time. Haht must be feeling spunky or something as he keeps moving through the showroom even as bolts are fired, grenades are going off, glass is breaking. Place is rapidly transgressing into a mess.
The smoke has settled enough that Fae can see their quarry. But is it the Beskar-Gong that catches her attention? Of course not. It's the -seating-. <"Ahhh, how delightful,"> Fae chimes, and pushes herself off of the side of the cover that she'd taken. She follows closely behind Sumi, unashamedly using Alor Kora as cover while the woman puts one of the redshirts into an early, but entirely deserved, grave. A second is caught in stride. The E-11 kicks in her hand as she focuses on center of mass. It is... effective.
She hops up onto one of the displays with a tiny grunt and crawls up onto it. Around the back of the seating she goes, and then towards the front, where she plants her butt down atop it and crosses one leg over the other. She sets her E-11 down beside her and turns to watch the other Mandalorians do some of the shooting with a little yawn. Fae also sighs as she hears the sound of priceless antiquities exploding and shattering all around, but this is the cross the Hapan bears.
There's some movement from elsewhere in the room, which draws the Mandalorian's attention in its direction.
<"Oh, please don't shoot at me. That would be very ugly of you.">
Nix watches the group decimate the welcome party. She moves quickly along the wall as more guards filter into the area. Her visor turns here and there watching Red Shirts and droids going down. She moves as close as she can lifts up her rifle and click. Click click. <<"You little bi...">> Then she pops the cell out and locks another in place. <<"Permission to stealth requested.">> The woman speaks quietly over the comms as she moves low along the wall. Literally just bending a little and she activates her halfling ability of being naturally stealthy due to size.
"Terminating." "Affirmative. Terminating." The B2s clunking in have their arms locked into fire position, micro-rockets priming with heavy treads ringing out through the corridors of display cases. Some of which now are cracked, the transparent durasteel rent in places and in others having cracked and fallen apart - the flames and shrapnel destroying a painting from Roche crafted with such detail that it seems a photorealistic hologram than oil on canvas.
Hired muscle originally having though this would be some light 'cadre duty' gig; guard a rich person's pretties for a fat check in a museum that no one knew the location of. Sounds simple until shrapnel is flying and they're looking at a smoke-crystal statue fissuring and creaking - ready to burst from building pressure.
They all start to open fire, blasters chattering and one of the B2's torso sections blowing apart before the stream of fire can stitch towards others - Hadrix on approach with the Clone Wars era rifle in hand being put to its originally intended use; marching into blaster fire that screams off in random directions.
<<"Gripper.">> "I've got the anti-gravs, don't worry..." the little droid muttering upon her arrival through the ingress point, little claws holding a satchel and chasing after the main force.
<"WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT!?"> a voice over PA speakers, a woman's and venom drenched.
People don't like it when you throw a grenade at them. Who knew? Valeska rolls behind a statue when the pair of mercs return the favour with superheated vengence. The bolts rip into her cover, taking chips and chunks from the tastefully nude woman made of some kind of over-priced material.
And then there's the bitty on the PA system. <<"Seriously? Her whole operation is bein' raided by Mandalorians and she asks what it is we want. Like she can't rub two chits together and solve the math.">> Ah, well. It's not Valeska's style to calmly and clearly explain to someone why their day is getting wrecked. That will all sort itself out. Especially as she bends around her cover and ends one of the mercs with a powerful shot from her tracker. <<"Gripper getting the iron?">>
<"We are here to reclaim what is ours."> Hahtavi bothers to answer as he ducks behind a statue, then pops back out to fire away at more of the hired guns arriving. He burns another one, this one getting caught with a bolt to the face that .. well, their head just eploded in a nasty mess of burned and steamed brains and bits of skull. His second shot doesn't miss this time, but hits another one in the side of their chest, one who was already hurting. That one goes down less dramatically.
<"You or your associates took from the wrong culture this time."> What? Maybe these Mandalorians weren't hired???
Lots more shooting and blowing things up. Hahtavi at least is trying to be careful of the various treasures around him, some of them beautiful pieces, but killing and not being killed is his highest priority, not the art itself.
Nix watches everyone going after the people and she glances over to the droid. Her eyes look over it's weapons and she adjusts her pack and rockets off towards the droid with her gun upright. She body checks something but the fact she's tiny, she bounces off getting no where near where she wanted to get so she just lifts her gun up and shoots the droid. She watches the slug move and tilts her head. There is a please hmph from the medic and she adjusts her rocket pack a little by wiggling her back. She listens to Fae and nods her head, pointing her free hand over to the other mando and nodding.
Fae Renta sets down her E-11 beside her and pulls up her vambrace. She sticks her tongue out as she lifts her arm and squeezes her wrist, the whipcord flying high above (weeeee~) the head of the mercenary it was intended for. It wraps itself around an expensive looking set of clothing and she gives a little shrug. <"It's non-lethal,"> she assures the mercenary, who probably looks less than pleased with the Mandalorian sitting atop the red bit of seating like a Princess would.
She tips her head up and squints at the intercom above, lifting her hands and waving around. She attempts to locate any sort of visual recording device but, failing that, just continues to wave her arms about.
<"Ah, hello! Yes, excuse me! We're here to take this stuff,"> Fae says, patting the chair beneath her armor-covered butt. <"Particularly this, but I suppose that hideous thing too,"> a gesture towards the gong.
<"Nobody has to die, you know. Nobody else, I mean. But we could probably use your help loading this back onto our ships, if you wouldn't mind.">
The slugs miss their intended, sparking off the bulkhead and flooring respectively. What doesn't miss is the follow up, a vambrace blaster that drops the poor mercenary in a single shot. His smoking corpse is cast back in a clatter, and Sumi is left popping the cylinder open on her pistol to shake the brass out, then begin the ritual of pushing new slugs into place. She puts her back to cover while doing so, unfazed by the chaos of the fighting.
<<"She'll be helping. She's got anti-gravs we can attach.">> Hadrix rumbles, lumbering ever forward, with the shot-blaster being raised and tracking the automata that struck him. Only for shots to ring down one line formed between displays. Singing krayt leather and bouncing off of his plates. Then a heavy repeater blast from the Super Battle Droid that clangs dead-center over the big man's sternum and sends him flying through a display case and tumbling a clay urn covered in religious iconography.
<<"YOU. WANT. THOSE?!">> the voice on the PA unbelieving. Who hires Mandalorians to steal a chair and a hunk of iron? Other than for the fact of what they were made for or from.
The figure Fae had tried to wrap up in cord rolling from defensive position to open fire on the Hapan trying to handle the matter, looking to put her on the ground. More fire comes from the other guards whom have not yet been told to stand down bouncing off Beskar plates or grazing close enough to blister paint.
<<"That chair is unique!">> a high wailing screech at the shots taken at Fae <<"No! NO you imbecile! That CAN'T be replaced!">> the armored thug ducking their head and resisting the urge to glower at one of the recorder points and dipping further when the scorched remains of a comrade skids by, or at least what's left from the sternum down.
<<"WHY should I let you walk out of here with -either- of those?">>
Sumi moves her head as the space near it on the wall is shot at. It's close enough that her ears are ringing from the proximity of the impact, but not close enough to have landed or to be of concern. She did drop a round, reloading, but for the most part the shock did not persist. Each slug is fed in until she had eight, and the cylinder was spooled noisily until shut, and locked in place. She used her thumb to pull back the hammer, then pied the corner to begin again!
<"Look, lady ..."> Hahtavi keeps firing away, then pauses for just a wee second as he sees /HADRIX/ flying backwards into a fancy display and ancient pottery shattering. <"Ooops."> That's too bad. But Haddles seems to be fine!
Another shot fired, this time Hahtavi hitting the Battle Droid and frying it. <"Just be glad we aren't blowing your entire station! Because we /can/. So don't bitch too much if we just take what we came for.">
More bolts zipping and zapping across the showroom, a few things smoldering that were burned with plasma bolts or blown up. Broken glass and things all over the floor, including several bodies and now a dead battle droid as well, <"Word of advice? Don't deal in Mandalorian iron - beskar is ours.">
As he steps over a body, Hahtavi adds the next bit over their helmet coms, <<"You know, we really ought to hunt down some of those old Imperial prison ships. I hear they used beskar on the bars of their cells...">>
Fae turns her chin up and looks around at the internal bickering over the intercom. For a moment, it seems they may be about to make some headway! Alas. She sucks in a breath that was -going- to be some more potentially-persuasive words, but that breath is ripped out of her lungs by a direct blaster fire shot to her chest. Fae doesn't manage to sound dainty when she takes a hit like that. Instead, she sort of half-yelps-half-screams and rolls off of the little throne she'd found for herself. The sound of Hapan cursewords fills the immediate air and she reaches for her discarded E-11. Crawling on her hands and knees, Fae circles around to the back of the seating and waits a moment or two to catch her breath.
And feel the heat slowly start to set into her chest through the durasteel plating. <"Hnnnnhhh... owww...">
Nix isn't given one order from Hadrix so she just shrugs her shoulders and grins slowly. Though the voice over the PA as he looking up and she starts to cackle, which is rather scary since the metallic voice isn't meant for cackling but it's trying it's best to project it and it sounds like a computer trying to imitate a laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha. HAAAAAA. Though with her Basic going along alright, a heavily accented computerized female voice, <<"Let. HA. HA. HA. HAAAA.">>
Nix adjusts her heading and turns towards one of the mercs. She launches forward and slides to a stop near one of the mercs and she shoots and watches it miss. Her visor follows the shot and she looks back to the merc and starts to prep the next shot like she's not standing right in front of them. <<"Stay.">> Her voice comes out and orders the Merc not to move in a growl.
<<"Only on the Jedi cells. Not general population.">> Another security guard downed by Hadrix once he's fully back on his feet, muttering to himself as he goes - Gripper close behind.
The remaining see the battle droid fall and begin to fall back now to more guarded positions, taking wild shots as they go; attempting to cover their own fallback from the onslaught levied against them now.
<<"And I could blow the whole station, I can start a new collection; you can't start new lives when you're atoms.">>
The heavier armored grunt falling back from Nix's position lifting a pistol that looks more like a stubby carbine to take a pot shot on the retreat, the eyes of the guards all turning up towards the speakers, concern showing in their expressions.
<<"Maybe I'll deal in having all of your heads on displays.">> the woman's voice continuing and the station shaking.
<<"Old and Busted, Alor'Kora - the station just fired what looks like an a-wing from a ventral spire. It's already moving out of tractor ranges and its hyperdrives are powering.">> Sana's voice, amused and intrigued despite the comms distortion. No new guards arriving to assist those falling back.
One down, the other immediately fires before she can get back behind the busty carving. A bolt ricochets off of her beskar chestpiece, angling right into an expensive, one-of-a-kind vase that is from some ancient--- whoops. It's broken now. Nevermind the iccesant shrieking from a hoity-toity collector who simply can't even.
<"Really glad I blew your drek up, lady. Gonna be nicer blowing up yer---"> Sana's update comes through the comms, drawing an audbible groan from Valeska. <<"Great. A runner. Ya know, I've had terrible luck of dealing with rich kriffers with a vendetta.">>
The hired help is falling back in a surprisingly smart retreat. Instead of chasing after them to unleash some frustrations, Valeska shows a bit of discipline and focuses on the objective. <<"Little to the left,">> she says to Gripper, trying to be helpful but not having the first clue on help to aid the moving of this massive, beskar-heavy thing.
Sumi watches the retreat, her weapon oriented toward them curiously before rising up and angling toward the ceiling. <<"Roger, Oh-En-Bee, thanks for the update.">> The pistol in hand is set back into her holster casually and Sumi is about to step off to begin robbing corpses when she spots one who is sporting her favorite brand of smoke. <"Huttsucker.. my man.."> She squats down and collects the pack of smokes from the man, stealing his lighter too, and begins to pack them against her palm. <"Oh, I need this.">
her fingers and thudding dramatically off the propped up display. <"I won't survive this."> Fae declares, her gun clacking about as loudly as that warbled sound of protest. She absolutely will survive this. She reaches up to twist the top seal of her helmet, a little depressurized -hisssss- as air streams out and in when that seal is broke. It thunks behind a pretty head of dark brown hair as she stares up at the ceiling. She turns her head to the side to look at the gong.
"To die for such a hideous instrument. That's some divine comedy," the Hapan says. She tips her chin up to see Sumi rooting through corpses instead of tending to her and gives another dramatic sigh.
"I suppose I will just -die- -here-..." beat "-alone-." She huffs and watches Hahtavi and Valeska be useful and start moving the big gong and, notably, not her chair.
"Are we not bringing this?" Fae asks, and bangs her empty vambrace on the chair she's collapsed behind.
Nix feels the shot off her leg and she slowly looks down at the singe mark and slowly looks up to the guard that too a pot shot on her. The young mando walks up to closer to the guards though she sees their concern. She points to the intercom. <<"One head shot to stop her. Are you brave enough?">> She points at the one who shot her and touches where her temple is on her helmet is. She backs up slowly and finally turns.
Her feet carry her quickly towards Fae and she pulls out her medpac. Her armor is painted in the internation medic, blue and red. She scans over Fae and looks at the damages done. Her hand gently touches Fae's armor. <<"Stop whinging.">> She says in Mando'a. She gets to work and is able to heal up Fae a little bit. She at least gets her stable and then glances up to the chair which is banged. Her t-visor looks back down to Fae. <<"If you are still too damaged to walk, you carry that out and I can carry you.">> Her voice is gentle.
The gong being fixed with Anti-gravs and starting to lift off its display hangings, Gripper bobs towards the assistance given by Hahtavi and Valeska, motioning for them to start to guide it. With no one shooting at them the living guards back off entirely, putting blast doors between them and the Mandalorians while Sana updates.
<<"They've jumped to hyperspace. No sign of any sort of reactor buildups. Either a long fuse or she's not destroying it.">> Sana again, voice crackling over comms.
<"I've got you, Fae."> not her. He could lift her, quite easily. Dainty little thing. Half her weight is probably armor. But instead the big man crouches by the chair, his rifle slung, and with a long growl he has it lifted, flipped up to rest the cushion on his head and most of the weight on his shoulders before he begins making for the way they came in, <"Good job, Nix. Everyone Exfil.">> chuckling at Sumi packing the smokes.
Binary lifter already there to haul the artificially lighter gong up once they've got it in place. Droid hands descending to lift everyone up so that all of Clan Kora's ships can get the rekk out of there.
Nix watches the chair being lifted and she nods her head slowly. She moves around and slides Fae's arm around her neck, while sliding her own arms under her knees and on her back. Lifting with her little legs and she stands up, carrying Fae like a bride. She follows after Hadrix while her knees make sweet sweet clicky music. The tiny mando is not leaving the lady behind. She actually uses her rockets to rise up out of the ship, making sure not to ping any part of Fae off the exit hole. She moves further into the hold and finds a comfortable pile to drop Fae onto.
With Gripper to assist, it's not too difficult to get the gong loaded up and moving. Haht gives Valeska a quick thumbs up since she can't see his smile. There's a glance over his shoulder to check on Fae but she's in good hands with Nix helping her. Sumi's found her a pack of cigs and Hadrix is hefting Fae's new couch! <"Sure looks like a win to me. We are outta here.">
Out floats the gong smooth as can be, heading back towards where they entered this place. Time to boogie. As they go, Haht taps out a snappy rhythm on the gong as they go! Helps set the pace - of course.
"I'm not whingeing," Fae insists, whinge-ily. There's even a pout as she's treated, though local antiseptic and the numbing agent takes a great deal of that heat out of... well. At least her senses. She'll be fine, of course. It's good to have armor. She reaches down and grasps her helmet, and then her E-11, pushing herself up onto her butt with another little groan just in time to feel Nix's arms reach beneath her to Princess carry her out.
"Ah, well. Thank you, Hadrix!" she chimes out, watching the man carry that rather heavy throne out from the display while smiling over to Nix then. "And thank you! I feel better already!" Did she even feel bad to begin with?
She does arch her back and make grabby hands, probably, for Sumi's smoke on their way to the Woor'tra.
