Log:Old Wound station

Old Wounds Station

Location: Old Clonewars outpost
Participants: Russ Ordo, Narsai Ordo, Strand Korsen, Maeve Zavir

It was a simple enough job, but one that required people with willingness to risk danger and death for a good cause and a few credits. Not the highest paying job one could find on Nar Shaddaa, but as close to honest work as someone could get. A small settlement on one of the backwater planets in the outer rim had ran into trouble, pirate raider attacks were a risk that even in this age many settlements had to endure, but this time they'd left more than a few blaster marks on walls. Food, medical supplies, all of it was low or outright gone. A loose blockade of raider ships still patrolled the area vaping or stealing anything that tried to flee to get help, but eventually one lucky break had got the message passed along and that was enough to have those responding set in motion.

Fortunately, our heroes weren't flying blind. Within the transmission coordinates for a long-abandoned survey base dating back as far as the beginning of the clone wars had been found, suggesting that supplies might be there the call for aid had asked for any willing to retrieve and run the gauntlet to relieve those in need.

Russ stands alongside his sister as the wave comes over the net in the cockpit of the Thinderheart. "Well seems like a good start towards what we were planning, call it a trial run if you will." The Mandalorian scratches at his short red hair before he slides his helmet on over his head. "Well lets put out the call and see who we can scramble up for this job. Might be more difficult than we think getting together a crew for what seems like a humanitarian run on Nar Shaddaa."

En route to Nar Shaddaa, or - more accurately - arriving upon Nar shaddaa after having been on Corellia for a few weeks, Dr. Zavir catches the call out for help one one of the many aid relay networks that she's linked too, and fires off a 'Will help, where should I head to' reply. She'd sorted through the supplies she'd packaged up for her clinic on NS and carried a compact pack and medkit with her to the rally point before firing off a quick message to the only other doctor she knows on planet (that'd be Sesti) and those affiliated with Wayward, relaying the entirety of the message with her addition: Heading to help, anyone else free?

Strand Korsen is generally found easily on Nar Shaddaa and thought to be overly friendly, Noble and likely to get killed doing the Right Thing. At least to most people. Most importantly, he is easily found. And has armor and weaponry of a sort.

The message come to the Waywards, and with most of the others away running cargo, Sesti was free to join up. A chance to stretch her legs off moon wouldn't be amiss, and so she collected Gaarurra, because a wookiee is always useful to have along when there's danger brewing, and her own med kit to head out. Somewhere along the way, the two met up with Maeve, and continued on to the Thunderheart.

With the gathering of willing hands and mercs alike, eventually the heroes find themselves on the landing pad, Narsai herself not yet armored up but in the process of securing her gear together, her E-11 Carbine hanging on a harness across her chest. "Alright, so we're running some supplies through some less then friendly skies, but we've got to find them first. Guns are all well and good, but if we want to get down on the ground to those people..." she trails off, glancing the two doctors and the muscle alike. "We need to be able to break through or take them down...I'd volunteer my ship. I've always said it's the fastest, but more the point it has room for everyone and the speed to outrun whatever they've got." She pauses, looking at her brother then the others, waiting on opinions or agreements.

"I am not a pilot, nor do I have a ship of my own. So, I think your suggestion is going to the best idea I can think of," Sesti says, glancing over to Maeve, and back. She looks up to the hulking bodyguard behind her, and then to the two Ordos. "It sounds good enough to me."

"Like i am not going to ride the Thunder down to the ground, almost as good as the old basilisk drops. Especially with the way you fly the bloody thing." Russ chuckles warmly his voice rendered tinny by his helmet "Plus like you said we aren't going to find a ship faster, especially with the cargo space and all the other requirements we are going to need." He moves his body slightly his armour moving perfectly with him, not making a noise as he idly picks over one of his bblasters.

Maeve Zavir shares a smile with with Sesti and Gaarurra as they arrive, relief evident in her expression to see not just one but two familiar faces, and that's before she spots Strand, aiming the same smile at him in greeting before Narsai and Russ explain the situation in more detail. "I'm not a shooter, personally, unless you want to see me blow a hole in the floor or some innocent appearing bit of architecture. I've no qualms, however, with smashing stuff if need be. I'm game, though. Get us on the ground, in one piece, and I'm good to go."

Strand Korsen is wearing body armor and has a kit bag with him. He taps his medium armor with all the scars. "I brought a heavier set. Though I am not much with the frontline combat. Never was, even when I was in it." He waves towards Sesti, Gra and Maeve. Maeve gets a wink on top. Russ and Narsai get more restrained nods. People used to Strand's normal antics might be thrown off by how much more subdued he seems.

Giving a little smile and a nod, Narsai activates the bording code and the ramp decends on the unique freighter. "We've got two laser turrets, a pair of cannons and some torpedos if we need them, but here's hoping we don't. If you think you need any more gear, grab it now. We'll be there before you know it." With that the younger of the two siblings climbs the ramp to her ship, making the final preparations for takeoff."

Russ turns on his his heel, the blaster pistol sliding smoothly into his thigh holster in one smooth movement. "I'll be up in one of the laser turret, yell if you detect anything." He hauls his armoured bulk quickly through the ship before nestling in the cramped confines of one of the turrets. "Good to go."

"Have gear, have armor, have medical supplies even a few boxes of ration packs, water purification tablets, etcetera," Maeve notes as she does a quick survey of the gear she'd sorted before heading to the rally point. Among the quick grab she hauls along the duffel bag that contains the armor that she was issued by Wayward, the contents already tested and cinched down to fit properly. She shares a sidelong smile with Strand while noting, "So you don't want to lead from the front?" en soto voice before she follows the siblings up the ramp into their ship. "If we run out of torpedos, can we throw rocks?" she wonders, the quiet bit of levity keeps her nerves from getting to tangled up.

Strand Korsen laughs at Maeve's Question, shaking his head, "Only if I have an entire army of big, ugly brutes behind me that make much more enticing, if not as attractive targets." He looks at the Ordos and says, "Never used a spaceship turret, myself." He sighs, shuddering slightly. Eyes go distant for a second and he lets out a breath. "But I will do what people think best."

And with that the ship is away. Loaded up and ready for adventure, the streamline craft leaves the choking fog of Nar Shaddaa for the vastness of the black before hyperspace sends the stars into a million pinpoints of highspeed light. It won't be a long trip, long enough for small-talk before the autopilot will beep and the ship comes out into...scrap metal. Seems the base isn't the only relic left from the clone wars.

With a curse in her native tongue Narsai grabs the controls. "Looks like docking is going to be more fun then we thought, strap in!"

Already seated for the ride, her gear lashed down and secured, Maeve reaches for the webbing that would fasten her in place and works the clips with efficient movements. "Fun as in 'oh, maker, we're going to die screaming' or Fun as in 'bob and weave, buddy, bob and weave'?" she calls out in return, that fine thread of levity laced with the nerves that make her tone of voice uneven. The urge to laugh, perhaps slightly hysteric, is pretty intense as she tries to bottle up the quips.

Russ reaches above his head calmly and grabs the holy shit handle above the gun turret, lucky for him his custom fitted armour absorbs nearly all of the thudding around endured by the crew. "Oh right, there is probably a reason this place hasn't been picked clean by scavs yet. Probably due to the debris field left over from the war. Who would've thunk it?"

"haven't done this in a decade," says Strand. He takes several rapid, controlled shallow breaths that propel air forcefully from his lungs. "Gregor's Colony." He seems to be changing a bit from his normal ebulliant self. He straps himself in, as well. He looks over towards Maeve. And does offer her a dark laugh, "Probably the former. With a touch of Watch Out For That Acclimator Engine."

Sweeping the ship between wreckage and ruin, the Mandalorian pilot manages to circle around for a few moments before she finds a docking ring intact enough to risk. Starting the process of connecting up she glances over her shoulder at the people behind her. "See, only a mild amount of screaming," she winks at Maeve before rolling her shoulders. "Well, we're here. But be careful, if the place is powered down we don't now what sort of condition life support is going to be in. Wear a mask if you have one, otherwise you're going to have to take one of the EVA suits from the thunderheart. Try not to break them."

"Jumping off a cliff with a aeroglide set of wings is way less nerve racking than it sounds, all of a sudden, in comparison," Maeve notes with a wry curve of a near smile. She cinches some of the seat webbing a few more degrees, aiming for the sweet spot between immobile and losing feeling in her extremities. The controlled breathing she hears from Strand has her settling down in answer, the dark laugh making her focus upon him in spite of the 'falling through space while attempting to not collide with things big enough to smash us like bugs on a screen' circumstances. "Just think, all that training will come back, time be damned; muscle memory and all that. Or so, in theory, say all the texts."

"I hate EVA suits," says Strand. Remembering himself, he says, "They clash with everything." He grunted and crunched his belly through the turns, relaxing with the movements of the ship. He looks towards Maeve, "I would prefer it didn't." And stops, looking carefully at the woman. "Have you ever done anything like this before? Have you ever been in combat?" The question is serious but sympathetic.

"Never been so glad to own vacuum sealed armour in my life." Russ grins as he clamours down from the laser turret, ready to go. His weapons firmly holstered in his thigh holsters. "So shall we go then."

Unfastening the webbing, once she's convinced it's a good idea, Maeve snags one of the biohazard masks from her gear and fastens it in place, smoothing the edges around the seal until it's adhered to her skin to cover her face from hair line to jaw line. "I've never worn an EVA suit, though the mod is akin to a full biohazard suit, so I don't imagine that the mechanics are all that different, movement and protocol wise. Don't puncture suit, that is." She shrugs her pack in place, having fastened the armor on earlier, and shakes her head at Strand. "I've never fired a weapon of any kind, actually, I don't own any weapons either, for that matter. So," and she flashes a brief smile at Strand, "no, to the combat. Yes, to emergency field relief situations." She glances from Narsai to Russ and back, "Are we the only responders on scene?"

Strand Korsen sighs and strips out of his armor, pulling it off except for the fiber undersuit. He removes the EVA suit from the locker and places it on himself. After checking his seals, he moves to check Maeve's suit. Strand simply nods at her answer, "Right. So think of combat as similar to triage. Concentrate on priorities. And, whatever you do, do not freeze up. If nothing else seems smart, drop flat and then run to the nearest bit of cover. And listen to the Ordos. I know I will."

"Couldn't agree more," Narsai nods as she slides her helmet in place and lifts her blaster before the team make their way to the hatch and she opens it. "As far as we know, there isn't anyone else who's going out of their way." Maeve's assessment of the suit gets a nod. "Punctures bad. If you're not armed, stay behind us." If she smiles at Strand, it's impossible to see behind that T-visor as the group steps out into the darkened corridors.

Every one of them can tell immediately that they're not hit by a pressure wave, which means in the docking bay at least, there's still some semblence of oxygen. No guarantee for the rest of the base though. Power is out, which means all bulkhead doors are probably sealed shut, but that might work to the team's favor. Russ however, notices something more.

<Page to Russ Ordo> 'You're going to notice something by the door out of the hanger, a scratch on the wall, three-pronged in shape, like something had dragged down it. Following the glance curiously you'll notice a single blaster bolt mark in the wall off at a wild angle. Almost like an accidental discharge.'

Russ looks at the wall curiously before his eyes wander slightly, taking in the surroundings. "Ok so looks like we might have some kind of wildlife in here, something that someone before has tried to shoot. Unsuccesfully." He points towards the scratches down the wall and the carbon scoring from a blaster bolt. "So lets hope it's nothing bigger than a large mynock."

"So, potentially wounded, angry, scared, wildlife in the area as well," Maeve muses as she calmly takes a few measured steps until she's at the rear of their happy little troupe. "I'm a surgeon, we don't freeze up. Freezing means the patient dying. It's considered unprofessional," this last said with that fine trace of humor again even as she's scanning slowly around. Local flora and fauna, yay.

"I understand that part, Doctor. But people do sometimes freeze up, even experienced ones.. in unfamiliar situ.." Strand stops as he decides Maeve probably knows the literature better than he does. He takes a moment to clear his weapon from his holster and unsafe it. He keeps it pointed away from anyone and his finger extended and covering the trigger but not touching it. Looking at Russ and what the man found, he sighs. And nods. He takes the third position in line.

Narsai moves to the door, frowning and taking a knee. "If the powers out, it's 50/50 that we can open these things. Might be worth while seeing if we can find a command center to turn everything back on." Listening to the two talking and frowning a little deeper behind her mask at Russ' words she opens up the panel and pulls a small power cell from her belt. "The doctor might recognize the supplies we need, but we have no idea where the med bay would be. Unless anyone knows anything about old clone bases."

<Paged to Maeve Zavir> 'As the doors open you notice...something, movement in the shadows at the end of the corridor. Whatever it is, it's silent and fast moving, but as far as you can tell there's only one to be seen.'

<Paged Strand Korsen and Russ Ordo> 'As far as you can tell, the base is a ring structure. If you can find a way that leads more central, you'll probably be able to find a command center somewhere near the middle. So far all the corridors are dark and silent.'

"Command center with working vid feeds would be ideal," Maeve notes in a low voice, moving as quietly but as quickly as she can to keep pace with the rest of the group. "I'm all in favor of being able to observe what's happening across the base while nothing is shooting at any of us, or trying to stomp us to squish," she adds before her eyes narrow against the dim lighting in the corridor past the doors, "What - is - that?" she says in a low, terse, tone of voice.

Russ moves to begin forcing open the door as the others get to work on the terminal and the area surrounding it. Slowly the door starts to creak open under the pressure of his straining muscles, before they snap open with a hiss as the two manage to work on the panel. He stumbles slightly as the structure he was exerting himself dissapears. He half turns back towards Maeve "What?"

Strand Korsen holsters his Defender and moves to help Narsai with the door panel. "Command center is probably in the middle. Based on the curving structure." He focuses on splicing the panel with Narsai. When Maeve whispers her question, he spins his head quickly. "Where?"

Maeve angles the tight beam of the personal illumination device, (read: flash light), that is current angled down at her feet, until she can adjust the beam slightly and aims it through the doors into the corridor beyond. Her eyes are tracking what she can see in the shadows, "Uncertain. Something is moving in the shadows at the end of the corridor. It's fast," she adds, belatedly realizing she should have said that part first.

Last through the door, Narsai brings her blaster up with the noise of alert. Leaving the hanger door up, the female Mandalorian woman aims down the scope of her weapon into the darkness and frowning. "Guess we're not the only ones here after all...or you've got an overactive imagination Doc." A look now at the others and she poses the obvious question. "So...do we investigate, or keep moving to the command center?"

"Just keep moving, we will kill it when and if we have to. Lets get the to central computer and see if we can find the supplies we need and clear a path to them." Russ draws both of his blasters again fluidly before he continues on. The long thin blasters held loosely down alongside his legs. "Unless this was an experimantal station there is only so many things that could be in here with us."

"I have an unhelpfully colorful and vivid imagination," Maeve counters with a head tilt toward Narsai. "I'll confess to that, but I have no bloody idea what it is, but there's something in there. And it isn't selling biscuits, door to door," she adds in the same, terse, tone of voice, moving the beam of the flash light to try to track the movements of what ever it is. "Don't borrow trouble," she mutters at Strand and chokes back a laugh.

Strand Korsen draws his Defender again, taking up his third position in line. "If whatever is living here leaves us alone, I saw we leave it alone." He keeps an eye in the direction Maeve spotted trouble but readies to move out. His blaster trains in the direction he looks without muzzling the rest of the team.

None of the party manage to lose their way, impressive in it self with only darkened unpowered corridors to navigate and very few flashlights between them. Yet none the less somehow the team find themselves at the door to the command center, its metallic surface showing fade and strain with age...yet unlike almost every other door the team had passed by, it remains open.

Strange in itself, but every single one of the team notices that the door's edges are gouged to hell, as if something had slipped between them and forced them open. Yet more signs of some unknown threat.

<Paged to Maeve Zavir> 'What you see, but the others don't as they start to enter, is a shadow in the dark, not at eye-level but above. Humanoid, but clearly not human, the shape slowly starts to move as the Mandalorians take the lead.'

"Millions of years of evolution and people just don't look up," Maeve is muttering in a terse voice as she flicks the beam of the flashlight around the room then up at the ceiling in the hall, as she mutters this. The mutter turns the last word 'up' into a rather alarmingly high pitched tone as the arch of the beam bounces off of something in the shadows, above eye level. "Look UP," she suggests in a VERY strong tone of voice, taking a healthy step BACK as the rest of the team steps forward.

Maeve's flashlight illuminates the low ceiling of the command center showing between the consoles dangles a skeletal robotic frame. It drops to the ground with a –thunk-, followed by several more unseen. The team are looking at no less than five old and battered CIS assassin droids.

Strand Korsen is peering into the room, looking intently at the darkness over the top of his blaster pistol. His breath threatens to fog up the inside of the EVA suit for which he curses himself for making such a classic mistake of forgetting to coat it. He starts to look up as Maeve calls out her warning... droids...

"Fuck me." Russ's jetpack flares slightly as he uses it to add just a little more momentum to himself as he flings himself backwards away from the falling droids. His blasters blazing to life as he pumps out bolts to keep himself covered as he creates space between him and the assasin droids. "Ok i don't know why i didn't think something like this could happen."

Strand Korsen draws his blaster pistol in a fast, smooth motion. He backs towards the doorway, taking cover at the edge of it to fire around it at the closest droid. "Stay under cover, Doctor..."

Narsai's blaster comes up in the same moment as she steps back, moving to take cover out of habit while starting to lay down fire. "Droids! Get back!" she yells, her other hand moving to push Maeve out of some perceived line of fire as the assassin droids advance with uncanny speed for aged machines. Two of the machines hang back, lifting what appear to be old clone rifles and returning fire with several blue bolts. The remaining three fall back to more 'basic' combat protocols. Each producing a wicked metal blade from behind their backs the droids advance with intent to cut the group down with the single-minded determination only droids can possess.

"Roight," Maeve draws the word out with precise care, extra vowel sound included, as she backs away with measured precision. That is, no undue haste, no scrambling, no babbling, no tripping over herself or anyone else. Retreat. Advance in another direction. Change course. The helpful push from Narsai adds additional inspiration to duck and hug the nearest wall while staying out of the line of fire. Trying, that is, trying to stay out of the line of fire.

Russ ignites his jetpack again after he leaps back, aiming to break through the bladesmen and take care of the gunmen early. It doesn't exactly go as planned. Almost before he has managed to make any headway one of the droids blades lashes out impacting heavily with one of the heavy armour plates that make up his beskar'gam sending him thudding into the ground well off course. He slowly pushes himself up and readies his pistols "Mandalore blast it."

Taking a shot at one of the advancing droids, Narsai puts herself between the doctor and the blades, letting Strand keep her out of the line of fire and moving to try and back up her brother. Firing off a shot that puts a hole in a droid but doesn't quite drop it, her other hand goes for her vibro-blade to draw it with ambidextrous ease.

The droids are quick to act, both blaster droids raining fire down on the doctor, smuggler and Mandalorian alike while the blade droids set upon Russ.

Following Strand's very level headed, common sense, don't be a bloody idiot hero advice, Maeve hugs the wall like a pro. In fact, she hugs the wall like it's something she's been studying, professionally, as a competitive sport. Duck and cover, rely upon the armour, while being keenly aware of just how bad a blaster round or actual projectile round would do to the soft squishy parts of one's brain. Duck. And. Cover. In fact, finding cover is now her second professional interest and she edges carefully along the wall to do exactly that, find something sturdy to duck behind while weapons fire is zipping about, jet packs are roaring loudly and assassin bots are trying to take over the planet, starting with this corridor.

Strand Korsen takes aim and.. yeooow! The man ducks back as blaster fire scorches past him. He hides behind the cover of the doorway, letting the shots impact. Droids aren't the same as people. The rhythms are different. Still, there should be a cycle time and a window... now.. Strand leans out and fires his long-nosed blaster at a combat droid. The shot impacts against it, ripping away armour and damaging circuitry. Sulphur rings the thin air. Strand takes a moment and looks to Narsai. "Let's take them from left to right." A slight look to Maeve. "Just a second, doctor."

Shaking the sudden grogginess away Russ brings his pistols up, contorting his body as he fires to dodge the blades off the assassin droids. The blades skim along the hardened plates of his armour, leaving slight scratches in the precious metal. His blasters flare as the blades whistle past, the bolts taking the droids through their individual face plates. He leaps backwards again as the last one takes another swing at him, ending up on his back blasters raised towards the droid.

Narsai doesn't so much dodge the blaster bolts headed her way as they miss, but the result is the same. Having stepped sideways at just the right moment to avoid getting shot, Narsai watches Russ and Strand damage and blast two of the blade droids away before she switches the focus of her fire, firing the E-11 full-auto at one of the blaster droids. The first few bolts only really open up the old rusted armor, but the last drop it in a smoking heap leaving only one gunner and one bladesman remaining.

Of all the things that Maeve knows about research stations, it's redundancies in architecture. Structural reinforcement. Layers upon layers of it. She ducks around one of the support columns that line the wall, probably one of those load bearing things, and hunkers down out of the way. The last thing anyone needs is a doctor blundering about like a wild animal stepping on people.

Russ's blasters flare again from his prone position on the floor, the four blasts all centre on the droids chest blasting it apart in a shower of sparks and charred circuit boards. He stays on the ground and activates his jetpack in a short burst, tucking his legs up as it sends him scraping along the floor out of the fire of the droids.

There is being used to combat and being able to function calmly and effectively. And then there is.. Great Maker! Strand can only stare as Russ flies overhead and drops 4 droids in a fusillade of blaster fire. After a moment, he remembers that he has a weapon, too. He leans out and fires a shot at one of the remaining droids, scoring a hit that damages but does not destroy it. He drops back behind cover and looks over at Maeve, "We're the amateurs, here.."

Blaster bolts ring out and then with one last thud, the last droid falls, leaving the room in deathly silence broken only by the occasional spark of the dropped assassin droids. Exhaling a breath, Narsai sweeps her gun left and right before looking back over her shoulder at Strand and Maeve. "All clear for the moment, you two okay?"

Tipping her head back as she skims a look along the room before she replies, "Status normal, all things considered." Maeve shares a wry grin, sidelong, at Strand. "Me, yes. You, not so much." This said as she rises from where she'd been crouched, dusts her hands off and glances from face to face. "Is anyone injured?"

"Check. Korsen Up. Everything Green," says Strand, lapsing into battle speak. He pauses and then remembers himself. "I'm alive, Narsai. Not hurt. Neither is the Doctor.." He keeps his blaster pointed in a safe direction and leans out, looking into the room. "Whew.. that was fun.."

"No, I think my armour caught the brunt of it, probably going to have some nice welts once I take off this armour. But for now I am more than ready to continue. Let’s get this place booted up and see if we can get the auto defences back online and friendly to us. Might help us deal with any more surprises." Russ looks over his now dented and scratches armour with a low sigh "This might take a little bit of buffing to get out."

Narsai nods, exhaling a breath and gesturing to Maeve. "C'mon out doctor." She says as she moves toward the central console, trying to find the activation sequence for station power...if there's any to be found. "Let’s see if we can find anything in the database you recognize as medical supplies. Might save us time."

Strand Korsen works his way across the room, slicing the danger zones as Russ and Narsai cover him. "Anyone else got this? If not, I know a few tricks. From my days at University." He holsters his blaster and pulls out his datapad and a few leads. The man goes to work at the old computers, bringing them out of standby mode and working. He is busy for a time. AT last, a computer terminal lights up. He taps a few commands, "Doctor, I do not know what I am reading. This is your show. Tell me what to do and I will do it."

"Ideally, you're going to want to look for project lists," Maeve suggests as she joins Korsen at the computer terminal. "May I?" she asks, leaning forward to study the screen before she has a quiet 'ah-hah' moment. "Med Bay, we need to back track and continue along this corridor past the hangar, we'll find their med-bay at that point."

Strand Korsen watches Maeve work, "Wow. So we made this sort of hard. I would kiss you if it wouldn't get us both killed." He chuckles a bit and stands up, "Sounds like we need to work our way back the way we came. And go right at the first junction to find the medical bay.”

"Well at least it seems like we shouldn't run into to many surprises on the way. Hopefully this facility was still well stocked when the droids took it. A single crate of medical supplies might help swell our pockets a little but it won't help out the people that are relying on our delivery so much." Russ shrugs his shoulders and nods to the others as he starts to walk back, his helmet enhancing his vision as he moves. His blasters are held confidently in his hands, ready in case of any more surprise droids.

"Yeah, knowing our luck? Droids would have jumped on the ship or something." Shrugging her shoulders Narsai turns, looking down the now lit-up corridors. "Well doc, lead the way. We've got settlers in need of supplies." With that the shorter Mandalorian moves to follow the now informed pair.

Maeve chuckles as she shakes her head at Korsen, "If there's an easy way and a hard way, the easy way rarely ever occurs to me. As to potential fatal end results, don't worry, I'll be valiant and refrain from assaulting you with a kiss. Wouldn't want you to die either," she adds with another wry flash of a grin before she wonders aloud a series of questions. "Why would a team of droids, especially ones of those kind, take this facility," her eyes narrowed subtly. "Follow that with who can afford droids in that quantity, and what is their primary mission," several questions there as she hooks her hands into the front pockets of the vest she's wearing. "And. . . why is this facility so bloody quiet?" She aims a nod at Narsai, "That we do. And, for the record, if the droids jumped your ship and absconded with it, I'm not walking home. Between the lot of us we'll build a ship and slingshot it off the planet and somehow escape."

"Fifty-fifty ninety rule. Given an even fifty-fifty chance, ninety percent of the time, you will be wrong," says Strand. He banters easily with Maeve, "That's a very good question. On the other hand, those are old droids. Easy enough to send out and forget about..." He moves up in front of Maeve, covering the way with his blaster. "Let's not borrow trouble, Narsai. I am have a Lethan to get back home too..."

"As long as they don't disable the hyperdrive or steal the ship it doesn't really matter if they are aboard. I am sure we can deal with it. Hell, the droids are lucky we are in a climate controlled space station or they would have rusted away by now." He looks back at the others as his footsteps echo dully around them, his heavy boots ringing loudly along the metal floor. "I think these droids are still playing out their orders from the clone wars."

"Maybe we do need a droid to lock down our own codes," Narsai mumbles before nodding at Strand and glancing at Russ. "That’s...not a bad point. Mandalorian armour? Probably looks like clones to some nearly hundred year old droid, right?" Shrugging she leads on, headed for the medical bay under Maeve's direction.

The medical bay? When the blockade runners arrive it's still a bit of a mess. Tables flipped, bodies noticeably absent and a bacta tank completely shattered. Still, there's bound to be something to find, right?

<Paged to Maeve Zavir> 'You'll be able to find a few old medpacks, anti-biotics and basic medical supplies. Breaking 50, I'm going to say you'll find a pair of stashed battlefield trauma kits you reckon you can make use of to treat the trapped settler population on the blockaded planet.'

"In response to your statistics, I'm compelled to remark that I could be wrong, and I often am; it breaks up the monotony of being right from time to time." Maeve gives a small twitch and the notion of borrowing trouble before glancing back over her shoulder at Russ, "That's a good theory as well. If no one changes or alters their programming or standing instructions, they'll continue to carry out the parameters of the programming to the best of their designated abilities and skill set. It's just code, after all," said with another shrug before she nods thoughtfully at Narsai. "In short, invaders have arrived, they were programmed to defend the premises?" she wonders before stepping into the chaotic remains of the med-bay. She lets out a low whistle as she surveys the shattered bacta tank and everything else strewn about. With a shake of her head she starts to pick through the remains, unearthing some old med-packs, some unspoiled units of antibiotics, more medical supplies scattered around and half buried. She tugs the trauma kits out of a crushed box and starts piling all the supplies that are salvageable into a stack one of the remaining exam tables still standing. "I wonder what rampaged through here to cause such a mess."

Strand Korsen moves into the med bay, slicing the pie with the weapon aimed as he works the angles. He takes a moment as the room seems clear despite the mess. He looks around and says, "Doctor, I think you're up.." He continues covering the doctor as she searches the room. "Was that a rhetorical question or an invitation to get jumped?"

Russ moves over to one of the old tables and leans against it, his gun hands resting against his thighs. For now the Mandalorian soldier remains silent, watching the door. His red and black armour gleaming in the pale light, now scored with thick silver lines where the enemy blades scored across it. He finally speaks to Maeve "They may not be protecting it. They could have been told to kill every soul here. That would explain the mess."

"Well, I guess we won't know. At least unless you want me to go back there and trying to pull out memory cores..." Saying that, Narsai shakes her head at the suggestion, looking back at Maeve as she finds a surprisingly good haul. "Me? I say we carry all that stuff back to the Thunderheart, get those people the help they need and leave this place to think about another way."

Maeve winkles free another pack of unused bacta patches from the mess on the floor before aiming a curious look at Korsen, "Is what a rhetorical question?" she wonders before making a thoughtful hum of sound. "Maybe some of those settlers that were trapped by this conflict came in here, thinking to use this as a secure place to hide out. Those droids might have killed the lot of them, or enough to make them take their wounded and or their dead and evacuate," that musing tone of voice again. "Oh, I like that plan. Think those memory cores are retrievable? I mean, considering the data storage location, you guys could disarticulate their appendages, take the fight out of the fighting droid that way, I mean. Knowledge is never wasted when it's added to the collective data cache," she notes, sounding excited about this notion.

"Wondering what rampaged through here," says Strand. He is working his way to the far side of the room, covering the angles. Looking back over his shoulder, the man says to the others, "Forget the cores. I saw we grab the supplies and make it back to the ship. We've got settlers to save." And the man begins backing out of the room. While the low atmosphere creeks.