Log:Mandalorians: S.T.E.A.L.

Mandalorians on a mission acquire equipment for Mandalore

OOC Date: February 17, 2023
Location: Space - The edge of the Ottega system
Participants: Sumi Kora, Valeska Kora, Amaia Dara, Jallo Dara, Terek Rosol and Hadrix Kora as GM

<<"We're not here to kill anyone... If we can help it. They're already going to be... cross with us for this. But if they can come take it back, all due respect to them...">>

The Kyr'am ra Kote had locked its docking tube clamps onto a portion of the Ithorian Greenhouse Ship, a section that lacked the usual transparisteel that allowed outside craft to see the lush growth within, but for and aft there were droids and humanoids garbed, or painted, with security markings headed for the ingress points.

Outside the Bloody Resolve was keeping their target craft held in place with tractor beams and several escort fighters were being kept in check, ionized and otherwise helpless.

<<"They'll be upset at what we aim to acquire. Rightly so. But they shouldn't have said 'out of the question' and closed connection when I made a call a couple weeks back.">> Why is he being so obscure? Who can tell, but Al'Verde Kora stands at one of the hatches for the docking tube, which seems now ready to become a sort of boarding chute.

Suppose everyone will find out why they're here, sooner than later. And the big man has always been horribly draconic regarding the adage of 'Loose Lips Sink Ships'. All four tubes were down and all four hatches were opening up. <<"Secure the area, blow the locking clamps on each corner of the primary bulkheads. Once those go, it'll all tumble into place and we go home.">> that said, the big man looks around the gozanti's main bay before he steps out and drops down towards the ship below.

Sumi Kora brushed her cape to favor one side, revealing a small collection of weaponry at her reach. Being that they had no intention of killing anyone, she kept the lethal weapons holstered; in summary, no weapon came out. With orders out to secure the area, Sumi traverses the brief distance and takes up a position to do just that. She did not use explosives personally, so she left that up to the experts. With her helmet on, she turned her attention toward any potential threats while the others saw about blowing up the locking clamps or what have you.

Misery. Pure and simple. Valeska would rather be shot a dozen times -- and has -- rather than what she's going through now. She keeps her helmet off for as long as she can, looking a bit green around the gills, as her father would say. It's been like this for a while now. Weeks, maybe. An eternity? Perhaps. She pops the cap off of an over-the-counter medication and dry-swallows two pills with a grunt. If she could throw up right now, she would and just get it over with. No sense barfing on the pretty garden ship.

"We raidin' gardeners now, vod?" Even her tone is strained, like she's holding back the urge to go lay down with a towel over her head. Not annoyed. Not disrespectful. Just all manner of terse at the universe. No killing? No problem. Right now, she couldn't handle the kick from her tracker anyways. Buuut then comes the order for demolitions. One more deep breath and Valeska slips on her helmet, securing it to her suit with a hiss of pressurized air. <<"I can blow it up if you want, yeah? Unless someone else would rather have the honors.">> And from the sounds of it, Val is somewhat hoping there is a volunteer.

Amaia Dara has been recruited for a job. Amaia Dara was here for a job. She had little in the way of weaponry, and nothing at all that looked like high explosives. Perhaps she would accomplish the mission with the force of her wit. But, she was also not terribly funny. Why was she here again? Well, someone would likely ask her that sooner or later, as she prepped to step out of the hatch and into the working area.

Terek would follow Hadrix into the gates of hell itself, so obscure, vague mission briefs aren't something he worries about. Even if this doesn't seem like their usual kind of mission.

Still, if they're not aiming to kill anyone, he figures that it might be a good idea to bring something with less lethal capacity, <"I'd rather let you take care of it. I'd be worried I'd cross a wire. But I'll get your back."> Comes the reply from the cathar.

Jallo looks around for a brief moment as they all prepare to enter the Gardenship his hands clasped behind his back as he listens to the quick briefing and just nods, <"That sounds easy enough. Not one for the explosives but I'm sure we can assist with the securing of the area for those who are explosive experts.">

When boots hit the deck all hell breaks loose. Droid and organic voices shouting, demanding hands be put up, to throw down weapons, get on their knees. The whirr-click of blasters priming and armed guards attempting to encircle the Mandalorians making their apparently very unwanted appearance on their employers craft.

Right next to a hunk of equipment that very few, if any, have ever gotten away from Ithorian hands. Technology closely guarded by the Children of Ithor and prized for its ability to bring life to where there was once only death. Tech rumored to have been secured by a world called Woszis or Ozziys... who can tell with all of the different world names out there in the galaxy?

Turning with his fists raised and the electro-contacts built into his gauntlets engaging, Hadrix looks to the others arriving, <<"Anyone with demo skill, hard to miss those locks. Quicker than trying to slice them at least.">> not bothering to address the shouted commands of the guards.

<<"Everyone else, suppose we need to send some to nap time.">>

Turning abruptly to approach the security forces, slapping his hands together in a shower of electric sparks that reflect blue light onto the disassembled Ithorian Terraformer that the all the hubbub seems to be about.

When trouble began to brew, Sumi turned toward it. Hadrix said there were going to be some people going to sleep. Sumi was eager to knock them out. She sprinted a short distance and took hold of one of the guards by their collar. Before they could do more than react, Sumi smashed her helmet against their face in a crushing Keldabe Kiss. One guard was laid out, and Sumi took another guard's weapon before smashing their face with it and dropping it beside their body to move on. <"Two incapacitated.">

Thump. Boots hit the deck and Valeska groans, tempted to lift up her helmet if just to spit a bit of bile she feels rising up. Nevertheless, Valeska quite literally swallows it back down and growls mostly to herself. Misery leads to annoyance and annoyance to anger. Anger is more functional than misery if only slightly moreso. <<"On it.">> Capable but not as eagerly so, Valeska moves over to the locks impeding their progress---

Nope. Some of these would-be meat shields called guards quickly move into her way causing the crimson-painted Mando to stop. And stare. "Seriously? They payin' you that much?" Her right hand floats to her hip where she pulls out a stun baton, igniting it with electrified ire with a flick. "I seriously doubt it. Move. I'm not in the mood."

Terek leaps into action as soon as the door is down, looking towards the bots, having brought the E-11 to bear. Since a lot of the team has already started going after the guards they don't want to kill, he turns his focus on the security bots, because those can just be blasted. Two quick shots from the blaster, but he manages to just scorch the bulkhead.

Jallo's E-14 comes up fairly quickly and he snaps off a pair of stun bolts at one of the living guards. Then the short barreled rifle sweeps over towards the next potential target, <"One out cold.">. The helmet sweeps the room just for the visual sake on the others he's already gotten a 'look' at everything.

Some would say the technology was worth dying for. Ithorians had used it to revitalize worlds ravaged by pollution, to help them toward recovery without a mass extinction events. Has created oasis in desert wastes. Could theoretically, if deployed in enough numbers, be used to ravage worlds and render them uninhabitable.

<<"Call out if you have trouble.">> Hadrix growls, blaster bolts splattering against or bouncing off if his plates, one such forcing him to step awkwardly when the edge of his cuisse is hit and the gambeson beneath is made to absorb the heat and impact. Right hand snapping out to wrap his fingers around the face of a guard. Flashes erupt around the poor sot, howling as the shock pads go off, blown backwards when the big man's grip releases and the current drives the security guard to slide along the floor

The guards are forced back by the onslaught, just the same. Droid and organic alike trying to determine who to fire back at until one very brave, or maybe foolish, young man sporting a southern hemisphere tan in contrast to a blonde coiffure that only dedication could achieve. Under his armor? On the right bicep? A skull tattoo with 'Death From Above' etched into their skin. His battle cry is mighty and is followed by a storm of blaster bolts,

"KILL EM ALL!"

How he was hired by Ithorians? Who knows.

PLINK!

Sumi takes a bolt to the head, and the concussive force of impact wipes her out, planting her on her back a moment. When she sat up, the carbon scoring on her helmet had burned away a portion of the exterior paint, leaving a small trail of smoking cordite and ozone to waft from the impact zone. She rose back up with a grunt, clearly too old for this, and punched the one responsible so hard, it knocked them back. She might have followed them had someone else not stepped in her path. They got kicked to the guy!

Luckily for all her sickness, Valeska is spry enough to move when the onslaught opens fire on them. One bolt whizzes past her and another grazes the kami that hugs her hips. A singe to the armor but not to the body beneath. Which is good because that means her immediate response can be done with logic instead of blind, emotional rage. <<"Still not allowed to kill them?">> A logical question when someone on the other side is screaming to 'kill them all.'

Until orders change, naptime is on the menu. Valeska charges forward, aiming her baton to the dome of the first underpaid sod she meets. She can only assume they are underpaid. No way in hell there's enough money for them all to take on a group of spurned Mandalorians. Whatever their financial situation was, her first opponent crumples to the ground, allowing her to continue that momentum to the next viable target. Or so would be her move if a wave of nausea doesn't punch her in the gut. A brief stumble in her posture is all it takes for her swing to be stopped by the guard grabbing her by the wrist. <<"Rekk.">>

This was not quite the use case it was intended for, but one did what one could with what one had available. Once she was clear of the attacking forces, or, perhaps fairer to say, while the rest of the team was distracting the defenders, Amaia adjusted the laser built into her bracer, focusing the beam, before she aimed at the lock, the bolt sizzling at the metal as she tried to heat it enough to break the lock.

Terek's rifle fires off another pair of shots, right as a bolt from one of the security droinds hits his beskar, knocking him backwards a bit with a grunt of pain. He drops back behind cover, taking a moment to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him by that hit, "Never stops stinging.." He mutters to himself under his breath.

Still better than the last one he took without the beskar.

Jallo's attention focus's on the one screaming to Kill them All after a quick look down at the smoking spot on his chest plate of his armor before he fires a pair of stun bolts at them, <"If we wanted you all dead you'd be dead already. Just sit down sleepy head." Then he moves forward a bit and a glance of sorts towards the others.

<<"Val'ika, next time you're having pregnancy sickness, let me know so we can see to you before we drop, 'lek?">> Making assumptions? Maybe, but the big man has experience with such.

The ship shakes with the blowing of a lock. The metal glowing red hot before it is too softened to maintain. Popping with a 'CRINK' sound that seems far to weak for the importance of such a collection of durasteel formed in interlocking parts. The structure shifts fractionally but enough to be felt in the soles of everyone's boots and in the expressions of the organic guards with faces visible. Looks are shared and a lowing, warbling, sound comes over comms, pitch suggesting panic.

One of those bodies close to Val is sent flying with an arc of electrical discharge connecting their cheek to the back of Hadrix's left hand, the fellow pirouetting and spasming all the way to the ground and their fellow dropping to their knees from a gut punch that illuminates their skeleton.

<<"Now go to work!">> Hadrix points towards the lock she had been headed for when she suffered the jetpack malfunction.

Numbers reduced, fire continues still with the guards who haven't been shot or slapped down back pedaling from the Mandalorians marauding through the hold. The docking tubes from the Kyr'am above extending claws and affixing couplings now to stop the small atmosphere leaks that the initial boarding had caused. And still the sounds of Ithorians calling out over ships comms can be heard in the din of battle filling the specialized cargo hold.

Sumi punches the next guard that crosses her path. The impact of the hit carried the full momentum and weight of her armor behind it, clocking them hard enough that they spit out teeth and splayed across the decking. Sumi gets shot in the chest then, knocking her backward and into the arms of another guard. They fish their arms around Sumi's, achieving a full-nelson, briefly.

Sumi links her hands together and squeezes her arms until their grip breaks, then suddenly, she springs back with her head, smashing against their face and using her helm. A second body drops behind her, and Sumi shakes her head comically as if ridding her vision of its double perception.

<<"I was fine before we took off!">> However long that was. As to the assumption... well. Now isn't the time to confirm or deny that. Now isn't the time for much of anything except making sure she doesn't end up spaced or something. A meaty, electrified punch clears her path and orders are bellowed. Conditions she can function under. <<"Right, right. On it, yeah?">> Not needing to attempt a sputtery jetpack again, Valeska just rushes over to join Amaia in handling the locks.

Pressing herself against the wall, she flings open the panel to see... oh so many buttons and lights. The wave of puke-inducing tumbling of her stomach seems to finally be quelling enough so that she doesn't feel the threat of barfing in her helmet. Now she has a new dilemma. <<"Always easier just to blast these things apart, yeah? But since we can't do that--">> The Mando who is terrible with computers is a savant at destroying them and with a few practiced patterns of tippity tapping in commands, the second lock gives away and releases.

Now it was a matter of trying to move through a field that was being cleared for her, and so Mai moved, dodging blaster fire and swinging droids, as she tried to angle her shot for the third of the four locks that needed to be uncoupled. Such a civilized word, uncoupled, quite unfitting for what they were actually doing. She just managed to avoid a droid charging into the fray, the laser hitting the lock as she fired it as quickly as it would recharge.

Several bolts from the security bots rain down around where Terek has taken cover. He doesn't move as the blasts come in, save for letting the E-11 drop down onto its sling, his right hand moving down to draw his Glie-44 from the holster, holding it up at the side of his helmet as the cathar waits for a break in the fire.

After the blaster tags Jallo in the leg his stance seems to be less stable now... Aiming his E-14 at one of the warm bodied guards he squeeze off two shots as they go wide, <"Oof that was unexpected.">

Two locks remaining and the droids are the only ones standing their ground. Organic guards not laid out by the attacks. Calling out to one another to get clear and crowding the hatch doors while the mandalorians continue their work. Those not quick enough being brought low by shots forcing them down or the strikes of the Kora leaders in their rampage.

The ithorian voice cuts off suddenly and an alarm klaxon begins to go off. Lights in the bay flicker, dim and change to emergency power when the third lock is removed and the shaking of the container becomes too much for dampener systems to compensate for. Forcing people to widen their stance, grab something, or stumble about in the dwindling melee.

No more fire comes from the organic guards, leaving it up to the droids whose restraining bolts give them a single parameter - continue while they can. Magnetized feet keeping them stable, bodies rotating at their hips and using the juddering instability of the hold to their operational advantage.

<<"Almost clear, as soon as you get that last lock, we boost.">> Another Ithorian voice over comms, Pheegus's translator collar doing its job.

With the other guards running, Sumi is savaged by the bots that remain. Hit in the chest again, Sumi stops herself from being blown over by activating her jetpack. She slides back a few feet until the propulsion of the pack stops her. Another loud burst from the pack, and the heavy Mando flies right into a pair of droids, smashing both against the bulkhead with the full weight and momentum of heavy beskar armor. Sumi seems no worse for wear after climbing slowly back up after impact, and the droids she hit? Reduced to a sparking heap of scrap behind her.

Eenie meenie miney <<"One more to go.">> It's not like Val to be on the tech side of things. Perhaps that is Colo's brainiac influence taking root. More likely, someone say 'get a lock open' and she was tricked into thinking she would be blowing something up. But now she's facing a task that requires finesse. She can barely spell finesse! Fancy Hapan words. Finesse is Hapan, right? Sounds Hapan. Focus!

Valeska shakes her head a little and grunts, sliding to the last lock and tapping... tapping... tapping. The whole ship is lurching. Sentients are running. This is taking too damn long! Witht three locks already disengaged and the fourth halfway there, Valeska opts to speed up the process. Drawing her arm back, she WHAMS! her elbow into the console, causing a power surge that does the rest of the work for her. The last lock releases with a KA-CHUNK!

And then the whooooole cargo container starts to shift. <<"Heas up! She's free!">> Valeska is already backpaddling.

With the last lock being handled by the red-clad Kora, Amaia had done whatw as required for her. Now, to get the team out again. She twisted back around, scanning to mark the location of the team members and firing at, and missing one of the droids who had tried and failed to get in the way of her shot. Pernicious thing.

Terek's paitience pays off as the blaster bolts stop for a moment. He takes advantage of that moment, stepping out from behind his cover and pulling the trigger on his pistol, sending shot upwards at one of the droids, striking it square center mass.

He turns to aim at the second droid, firing two shots in rapid succession, before pulling back behind his cover. That should have been the last lock he just heard.

As the fleshy guards start to run off Jallo's E-14 targets in on one of the bots squeezing off a shot that goes wide however the second one hits the droid creating some lovely sparkles over the droid. <"How much longer?">

There is a sensation of being pushed down moments after the blast doors snap shut, leaving the falling droids to slide and clatter around the floor while the cargo container is drawn away and the two Kora craft draw back, rotating away from other craft in the chaos of the separation.

<<"Clear in five... four...">> Pheegus's count down mixed with different Ithorian calls that may likely be invectives and possibly even foul language from the famously gentle race of extra galactic botanists. No fire comes from the Ithorian craft... also famously lacking for weapons due to the mainline peace loving nature of the aliens. A quality Pheegus seems to be lacking in. It takes all kinds, after all.

<"Grab hold of something!"> Hadrix's voice bellowing in the split second the alarm ceases blaring and the ship begins to lurch, stabilizers engaging to reduce the shaking of the container before the craft and their stolen cargo quite suddenly leap to hyperspace.

Sana's voice comes next, a note of satisfaction in her tone, <<"Next stop, Mandalore...">>

With the cargo liberated, there was nothing but to get back to the ship. Catching sight of her Alor looking worse for wear, Amaia made her way, handhold to handhold, to assist Jallo in getting back to the ship. A few of the rest looked dinged up, but none terribly. That leg though, "We'd best move before they leave is to the mercy of these ithorians." No one wanted to be niced to actual death.

Valeska backpedals, staggers, falls as everything lurches and gravity can't decide which way is up. She lands with a thud on her rear, sliding a foot or two, then digging her heels in and whipping her arm back to stop herself from somersaulting backwards. Grab onto something? Valeska looks around and decides to latch onto one of the many life-sustaining pipes that run along the space. One arm hooks around; the adjacent hand grasping her own wrist to lock herself in place. Times like this she really wishes she had invested in maglocks. Maybe one day. Maybe.

Oh, but that nausea is coming back. Understandably as everything is getting a bit topsy turvy, roly poly. The 'hurk' that is conjured is quiet and solitary; heard only in her own helmet as Valeska secures herself for a ride to Mandalore in... comfort?

Jallo engages his maglocks on his boots to keep steady when the container detatches. With a sigh as everything settles he lets Amaia help him move back towards the ship, <"My leg doesn't work like it used to before. I think it's been shot.">

Terek grabs hold of the bulkhead as they drop back away from the rather pissed off ithorians, <"Hope they don't take this personally.">