Log:Rebellion: Jungle Fever
Rebels get ambushed making a deal.
OOC Date: October 26, 2023
Location: Rishi, some random island
Participants: Rebellion, Calia, Nels Ophiran, Qutha Buvu Pah, Dailo Fett
Black market deals were a dime a dozen on Rishi, and most went smooth. On Rishi, crews were only as good as their reputations, and pirates /never/ forget a bad deal. With everyone in the galaxy hurting for good weapons, good munitions in general, and means to slip passed the blockades and invasive scans, Rishi was becoming the place it used to be.
One of thousands of deals happening on the surface of Rishi just, by chance, had to do with the Rebel cause. A member of the smuggling outfit, Captain Rys Jan, was to take a large group of rebels to meet at a very specific set of coordinates to make a trade off. Valuable spice and currency for various major trade routes in exchange for Imperial grade weapons. F-11S with the stealth mods, Flame-thrower packs and anti-vehicle weapons with dual-purpose explosives; the kind of drek demolitionists dream about.
Rebel intelligence being what it is dictated the group answering Captain Rys' call have 'a plan to kill everyone they met'. Phrasing and tense aside, contingency plans were in place for this to go pear-shaped. Captain Rys volunteered his crew to be the 'front men', but a secondary team was to wait for drek to hit the fan and steal what they could while everyone 'shot it out'.
Leading that secondary group is a little known bounty hunter and former Resistance freedom fighter, Dailo Fett.
The only brief the entire team had been give was 'Cover the rebels if drek hits the fan, steal what you can and make for the jungle; try to stick together.' It wasn't the best plan, but some crazy haired General always told the Resistance, 'Plans rarely survive contact with the enemy.'
Right this second, two groups have a stand off in a clearing within the jungle. Everyone is at the appropriate coordinates, a cover on one of the thousands of islands that make up the surface of Rishi. Beyond the treeline behind the pirates looms a make shift structure of ancient ruins turned into a hasty pirate base. Behind the rebels? A treeline of densely packed jungle leaves.
Captain Rys steps ahead to address the pirates after tossing down a satchel of currency. The rest of the crew is holding satchels of packed spice. "We held up our end of the bargain." Rys said.
MEANWHILE, Dailo is having a hell of a time trying to hide within the jungle. <"This armor is not intended for rekking hiding.."> She can't get comfortable and stay hidden, and how would red blend in anyway?! Grumbling, her accented voice checked in over the encrypted net, <<"Ambush team; check in.">>
It's been a long day. Getting out to the ambush site before the Pirates arrive, settling in, waiting, keeping comms off, just trying to avoid being bitten by whatever local bugs and other animals happen to hang out in Rishi's jungle. Laying low is Nels. He's in his combat armor, checking the status of his weapon for the fiftieth time today. About to doze off from the looks of it, before his commlink crackles and he sits up a little bit more at the sound of Dailo's voice. He gives a quick scan of the area, and then keys his comm to reply, "I'm here, awake." Definitely awake. He glances around at some of the other ambush team as they start to sit up a little more as well.
For a relatively massive, 2-meter tall mostly-black droid with red trim, Z-TN isn't actually doing THAT bad of job blending in with the jungle. At least he has all the black to help. He's crouched down low in the brush next to Calia, a much smaller figure in the kind of mis-matched piecemeal armor that rebels are so known for. At least she had an AR visor on that outfit.. and a bandolier full of extra ammo cartridges for the blaster pistols that are strapped on her thighs. The vibrodagger attached to her chest-harness was always close, too.
"This environment is not ideal steal conditions for my current configuration," comes Titan's modulated vocalizer, a low bassy rumble in the bushes.
"I'm sure you're not the only one that feels that way," Calia hisses back, then reaches up and touches her mic, activating it as she watches the events unfolding in the distance.
<< "Ready." >>
Cast on the whims of the galaxy his transit had carried him from one far flung world to the next in those rare times that he was not hidden away, seated on not but open air to dole out the, so called, wisdom that others sought out from the Zelosian who's heavy boots were even now trudging through the underbrush and lower foliage of Rishi's dense foliage.
On one of thousands of possible islands.
Corellians would claim it to be luck.
A man who had been put too a burden monumental beyond the will of most had once rebuffed this notion as if it were a foolish perception.
One that he was privy to the truth of.
So now Qutha Pah's weighted steps pulled him along a line that the uninitiated would decry as happenchance. Coincidence. There was a guide for the man from Zelos II and he was not so arrogant to say he had even an inkling for it. Only that he need go when beckoned. Eyes looking glazed and his expression of one lost in daydreams, he appeared in the midst of this deal with his consciousness drifting in both the here and now as well as the world beneath worlds that permeates.
Just walking, towards the very center of the two groups facing off. Trusting in his guide to bring him where he needs to be.
"So you have," Called back the pirate, pushing off a tall crate and walking toward a /very/ tall container. It was the sort of container a crane or really large droid needed to move. He suspiciously hits the door of the container with his fist twice, as if alerting the interior to something, but then cleverly says, "It's all in there." A twist of a metal handle and jerk of the heavy container door, and the pirate reveals a dark interior.
Rys and his rebels peek in to see what's within the container, curiosity overriding caution a bit. That's when dozens of red-contrails beam to life cutting through that momentary darkness and toward the rebels near the container. "AMBUSH!" Screamed Rys, who dove backward. It was not enough to avoid the incoming danger; a rolling wave of white-armored stormtroopers (Stormtroopahs NPC) emerge from the darkness. Sergeants pump their knife-shaped hands to signal 'Move' while radio-like-voices blurt out, <"GO, GO, GO!"> Or <"Get 'em!"> Even a heavy gunner with a spotter come out, and the spotter points toward a group of fleeing rebels. <"BLAST EM!">
It's a cacophony of things going wrong all at once that really makes Dailo stutter in witnessing the sudden onslaught of lasers and loss of life. <"ENGAGE!"> She yells, and the jungle comes alive.
All around the pirates, the densely packed jungle is full of camo-wearing rebel war fighters wearing camo paint and carrying weapons of war. A battle rages in that moment between the ambushing Stormtroopers and Pirates and the Rebels!
Grenades go off on both sides, explosions deafening and kicking up towers of dust and dirt as screams of stormtrooper and rebel alike result from the blast, dead or wounded.
Rys is seen crawling away from the travesty, clutching his chest and waving a free arm. "CALL OFF THE ATTACK!" He yelled, but it was lost over the noise of the battle. A trooper kicks the Captain over to his back and levels a blaster rifle between them to finish the job...
Well, that's what you get for getting there early. As the ambush of the ambush begins, Nels hits the dirt, and steadies his rifle. He's not the BEST shot, but the pilot is at least familiar enough to aim and fire. He holds for a moment as he tries to find something appropriate to shoot, and then he notices the heavy weapon soldier. Nels squeezes the trigger of his rifle and sends a red bolt flying through the air to strike the soldier square in the chest, sending him flying a couple of feet backwards before he lies still. A small smile from Nels at that, before he calls out, <Gunner down,> and then squeezes off a second shot at the spotter for the gunner, which misses as they are running for cover themselves.
Chaos erupts, and Calia and Titan move as if in unison. The smaller, slimmer form of Calia dressed mostly in black cuts through what remains of the jungle between her and the fight at hand, reaching up to slip the vibrodagger out of its chest-harness sheath as she goes.
With a simple flick of her thumb, the blade hums to life, suddenly blurring to ordinary view, and Calia emerges like a tiger from the jungle, leaping on and claiming the life of the closest pirate to her, her blade sinking into his throat and extinguishing his life in one smooth motion as she rides him to the ground.
Titan stands, his massive two-meter tall frame rising like a sentry out of the foliage, and brings his stun rifle to bear. For a moment, he tracks the white-gleaming form of a running stormtrooper and then he fires a single shot, sending the trooper sprawling forward into the ground.
Calia was already moving to her next target, running quickly, blade flashing as she hit him and twisted, going down with him as she made two quick cuts... then she looked up, half crouched, fully prepared to use his corpse as a shield if need be before she moved on to the next target. She was.. in a word.. ruthless.
It all explodes into madness and the expression on the orchardist's face is couched in faint disappointment for the madness ensuing. Eyes remaining, considerably, distant the flora man's head turns in one direction, then another. Blaster bolts singing through the air past his head and body.
Instinct drives his arm to drop down and allow the wood wrapped cylinder contained up his sleeve tumbles into his open palm to be held in a neutral, almost casual, posture. He could attempt reason, but the anger in the air was oppressive as the heat and humidity that he so enjoyed. Fear was gnawing at all edges. Hatred.
A storm of emotions that drove a cold sadness into his guts.
He could attempt to cause a retreat, though the visions that drifted to him on currents unfelt by others said that this would remain unlikely.
The vibrant blue blade of his saber extended with a hiss and snap audible only to him in the din and in full view of all Qutha Buvu Pah advances, slipping into an antiquated fencer's stance, one hand tucked behind his back and the other lifted so that his wrist bent slightly to make his weapon stand level with the horizon, pointed at none for the moment.
"Oh bother..."
A stormtrooper Corporal moves out near the bank and fires a flare into the air before promptly being blasted by a charging rebel. The flare arches high into the sky above, and transport vessels begin to rise up from more distant locations, Imperial in origin. Rebels see that the Imperials have arrived IN FORCE, with reinforcements to boot. All seems lost until the activation of a blue lightsaber, a beacon of hope in the chaos of battle.
The initial ambush of Stormtroopers have depleted in number, rapidly, the rebels playing their hand in a conventional fight only to be reminded they're the prey.
Dailo activates the rocketpack on her back and crosses the space from the jungle to the open where the Jedi Knight Qutha has activated their weapon. The Mandalorian lands beside them, drawing a pair of sleek silver blasters, one from each thigh to fire into the crowd of stormtroopers. Two are killed out right, but Dailo misses the third shot as she deviates from the Knight to help Rys.
<"Up you go, Rys.. you stubborn idiot."> Dailo has holstered one of her blasters and has helped Rys to his feet. The injured Captain screams, "WE GOT NO CHANCE AGAINST THOSE TROOPERS.. FALL BACK!"
Dailo turned to look at the incoming ships and nods. <<"Captain Rys wants us to start falling back. Collect the weapons off the dead, and move into the jungle. The Empire wants a fight, let them run themselves tired.">>
Well now things are heating up. A blaster bolt fired at him somehow doesn't hit him. And then he's running. Retreating back into the jungle, trying to dodge out of the way of stormtroopers and pirates shooting at him. He turns and fires somewhat carefully over his shoulder, two bolts, both striking a single pirate and sending him tumbling. His eyes scan through the chaos as he goes, and while he doesn't see anyone familiar just yet -- outside of a couple Rebels who were near him at the start -- he seems fairly confident he's running back towards the right rendezvous point. Probably.
It's Calia's voice that crackles next over the comms, still half-crouched behind the pirate she'd just eviscerated.
<< "Did somebody invite a frakkin' /Jedi/?" >>
Even though she looked like she was in her twenties, she was nearly sixty years old. She'd seen the rise of the Galactic Empire, the fall of the Galactic Empire, the rise of the New Republic, the fall of the New Republic. Even still, she could count on one hand the number of times she'd ever seen a lightsaber blade in person -- one hand, because it only required one finger, now.
In all that time, they'd been stories. Rumors. Bounties offered. News stories. Information twisted by one government body or the next, the Sith making them all out to be villains, and then... nothing. They'd all but faded to obscurity.
And now she'd seen one.
And in a moment, she will have seen one stop a blaster bolt with his freaking hand. Yeah... no. Time to go and just HOPE that guy was on their side.
<< "Titan, we're moving. I'll clear a path. Follow my tracker. Get as much drek as you can on the way by." >>
And then Calia was moving, sprinting across the clearing and focusing on exactly that -- clearing a path. No blaster. No muzzle blasts to draw attention to her. Just her form running for anyone that looked like they might be remotely in her way or stood a chance of turning to fire on her team. First one, downed with a single slice that painted the nearby leaves red, and then another, as Calia headed into the foliage.
Titan, meanwhile, had been moving forward. Lumbering wouldn't be apt -- he actually moved quite deftly for a droid his size, but he was not a small droid. He shouldered his rifle and moved to pick up as much valuable-looking 'merchandise' as he could muster, slinging it over his arms, hooking it over his head, and doing it all as quickly as possible before trotting after Calia's signal.
His palm red from the blaster bolt that sparked against it, sparked and then when out like a candle flame in a gale, Qutha continues towards the stormtroopers.
"Put up yer weapons. Turn n'go. This kin all pass wit' out further bloodshed." that said to all while he continues to move on a path to intercept. "I fear nothin'... F'all is as Th' Force wills it." shaking out his hand and tucking it behind his back again. "Turn back n'git an we kin have peace... salvaged here."
Saber held with the point towards no one in particular, his gaze still akin to one who is lost gazing at clouds without a care in the world. "Th' Force is wit' me... N'I'm one wit' Th' Force." frown growing some, "Th' Force is wit'ch y'all... Ifn' you jus' listen. It wants balance. Lives've been spent as th' Force will'd, 'cause these steps've been taken' down this path. But choose a new fork in y'road n'death kin be allayed. Be at peace and let Th' Force guide'jer..."
A Guardian of The Whills - attempting to his best ability reason in unreasonable circumstance. But there was duranium behind in his spine, for if it was the Will o The Force he would not shy from the path laid out for his footsteps. The tug of currents that brought him across the distance between stars to be here now.
It has been utter chaos from the point of the smugglers meeting with pirates, to the all out betrayal and ambush of Imperials. Dailo counts this the first conventional fight they've had against the Imperial stormtroopers, and things weren't looking too good. Sure, they won the first heat, but they showed their hand and the rebellion was notorious for being a one trick nerf. Now, the pain was coming.
"JUST LEAVE ME," Yelled Rys, and Dailo shook her head. <"Just.. stop. Dying would be more useful than being captured."> She drags the Captain into the jungle, turning once to ensure troops were moving out of the opening and into the jungle. She fires her pistol as a parting shot toward the landing craft, turning before the result was yielded. <"Just focus on running, Rys. We'll make it, yet.">
Rebels tore through the jungle, a large group with no formation to think of, just mobbing it through and carrying what they could manage. "WHERE DO WE GO?" One yelled, turning back to look for some direction. <"JUST KEEP MOVING IN THIS DIRECTION!"> Dailo called back. It was an answer, but it wasn't one the others felt entirely sure about. Panic was beginning to take root and behind them, Imperial forces had just made landing and were flooding stormtroopers behind them, firing WILDLY into the jungle with the hope of hitting and wounding or killing rebels. Dailo was near the back, slow moving with Rys.
<<"Cortlan, where are you, son?">> Dailo said over her personal comm. A younger male voice piped back, chipper. <<"Where you told me to be, mom.">>--<<"Fire the engines up.. we're heading that way, with company...">>
Again, a couple of blasts come flying his way and again they get absorbed by...something. Nels isn't really paying much attention to what is going on behind him, as the volume of fire coming from the clearing is dissipating. He fires a couple of shots blindly over his shoulder in the direction of the blaster bolts zipping past him, and then flicks on his comms, <<Where we going here?>> before he ducks under a branch and then tries to get a tree between him and the shooting going on behind him.
Droids don't sound winded when they run, even when they're carrying heavy loads. It's weird.
<< "Captain Calia," comes Titan's steady bass through the comms, "there is a natural gully to our left obscured by the foliage that may provide cover. It leads generally the way we are headed. We are getting closer Captain Rys's ship." >>
Calia wiped her blade on her last victim before she stood, shifting her grip to make it safer to carry while she was running through the jungle -- as safe as carrying an oscillating steel blade could possibly be.
The blonde woman stood, then, running ahead with the group of levels and raising arm above her, sweeping it to the left as she breathes into the comms. She /does/ sound winded -- but then, Human Repulica Droids are weird. And, well, there was only one other person in existence that knew she was an HRD.
<< "Thanks, Titan! Everybody move left into the gully and stay low, out of the fire. Keep moving! We're almost back! If you're hurt call out!" >>
And then she starts to run that direction, tucking her arms as she cuts through some branches and carefully trots down the bank, turning back to look out over those following while she keeps moving forward, making sure everyone -- including Nels -- is keeping up.
The violence continues and his hand flies of its own accord to slap one blaster bolt that disappears in a hail of sparks on contact. Saber poised and his steps continuing. He made his plea and those trying to flee were moving further into the jungle and into cover. Hair flopping down into his eyes the man frowns when something like a whisper tugs at his consciousness.
His left hand still moving, a backhand motion that intercepts another blaster bolt hurled into the jungle. Flesh smoking, but unharmed save for the angry, dark green, scoring as if he'd had hot liquid poured over his skin, drawing a hiss from the Jedi continuing forward like the wind, heedless of what would try to intercept him.
A trooper, in the arch of motion his sword arm was guided in ducks back, scrambling for cover when the energy blade cleaves through wood and foliage heedless of mass or density. Chosen to be given their chance in the light of the cerulean blade that comes back around again without the taint of blood on the wielder who looks with a disappointed paternal gaze on the trooper who now reclines unwillingly on the jungle floor. The pairs eyes meeting in spite of the lenses of a helmet. A meeting of the minds with a single word in a voice not the soldier's own echoing in their thoughts.
- "Retreat..." **
The sounds from Imperials are growing closer by the second, and the increase of incoming fire zips through the foliage and pocks up the dirt and ground where the rebels are running. It's UTTER CHAOS. Yet through the heat of the battle and everything that's going on, a voice of command and reason takes charge of the group and directs them down a path that not only saves lives, but protects them from incoming fire thanks to natural-organic cover.
Dailo is the last to go over the berm only to slide down the embankment and onto a rocky shoreline. Rebels have broken through the treeline thanks to Captain Calia's leadership and judgment and now beat-feet along the shore toward an unmarked, but clearly visible, set of ruins. A fast running, very young rebel at the front of the pack veers off 'course' to look into the ruins only to come back out pointing wildly. "SHIPS! THEY HAVE FIGHTERS HERE! A WHOLE REKKING LOT OF THEM! GET IN THE FIGHTERS, GO.. COME ON!"
More things to steal? The Rebellion is all about that, right? There's a cache of fighters within the ruins. They're not great fighters by any means, some didn't even have shields. Some were even pieced together from varying parts and made to function, but ALL of them were options to hastily get out of there and disappear 'in the crowd.'
Dailo passed Rys off and stood near the ruins to gesture rebels in to find ships and take off. <"Go, go!"> She called out, waving her free hand to get them to push!
He doesn't need telling twice. Nels sprints up the ramp to one of the ships, because this is where he shines. He hops into a seat, and starts flipping switches. "Oooh. I think I got ambushed by this ship a few years ago..." he mutters to himself as he starts working the controls. The reactor starts up just fine, and then there is a LOUD BANG! For a moment Nels looks concerned. And, to anyone outside of the ship, there is a small gout of fire, before it dies down and just black smoke rises from the engine. After a moment or two, and some careful adjustment of some levers, the engine starts purring. He looks over his shoulder and calls, "All aboard! Ramp's closing!" Before he starts lifting off the ground.
Calia lingered at the edge of the ruins just long enough to look back at Titan, who was still trudging along at the same pace -- not fast, not slow, once more especially for his size. Those long, strong robot legs of his made a huge difference, apparently, in carrying all that gear he pilfered through the jungles of Rishi.
"Move it, Titan, before all the two-seaters are taken and you're stuck here!"
Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
"I'm going to get one started! Stow the gear when you get there!"
And so she does. Calia weaves through the fighters, ducking under a plume of black smoke with an arm raised above her head and coughing as she found one with two seats and a storage compartment that looked big enough for... at least most of what Titan had. If not all of it.
She climbed in and started flipping controls.
Nothing.
A few more flips.
Nothing.
She reached out and hit the panel with her palm, and suddenly everything started coming to life with beeps and boops and flashing lights.
"Great..."
She toggled the starter up and it LITERALLY SOUNDED LIKE IT WAS CRANKING... for several seconds, even, before he coughed and spit out its own cloud of mixed white and black smoke. There was even some blue in there. Hopefully THAT wasn't bad.
Titan was at the ship, stuffing everything into the under-storage where the astromech socked would be, if it had one, and then he's climbing up into the other side.
"Are we good?" Calia asks, looking over at his massive frame.
"We're good," he confirms with a solemn nod.
Then the canopy starts to lower.. hitting Titan on the way down and crushing him forward into the rear controls with a groan that was either his gears or his vocalizer. It was hard to tell.
"Still good?" Calia asks.
"....Still good," Titan grumbles.
"Alright, then we're out of there."
The sounds of ships powering up nearby is enough to give the zelosian was the punctuation to the Force's, subtle, guiding message to the Order's mystic. Looking from one faceless helmet to the next of those stormtroopers in his proximity, Qutha offers a sad sort of smile as if to admonish the troopers for their dead set following of the path of violence.
Saber lifted in a warriors salute, pointed skyward to bisect view of his face before it slides back down to the hilt with a squeal of energy.
The Force had a reason for how it directed him here as it provided directions for those who had shed blood here to take, options ignored in the heat of battle. Somewhere this imbalance would birth its opposite and in that knowledge Knight Pah felt no remorse. No sadness for the dead.
For they were now, in their own way, one with the Force. One with the life energies of all beings. Of that which binds all things together. A darkness in one place allows for a light in another. So he turns and in a flash he disappears, a burst of pseudomotion like a craft entering hyperspace. Running pell-mell through this forest, slipping beneath low branches and hurdling other obstacles as the Troopers are left behind.
Before long, every back-firing, exhaust smoking, piece of junk fighter was turned on and ready to depart. Whoever had stored this cache had intended it for hasty take-off and/or attacks, with a clear opening above and air to reach orbit. Fett's voice is heard over the comms for the rebels, <<"We got something out of this at least. Now, live to tell the tale and get out of here!">>
Ships begin to rise up as repulsors flare and roar to life. Snubfighters of all abominable shapes and disgusting sizes pivot in the air and blast off toward the blue skies above the tropical world.
It's not long after that a weathered blue and silver Firespray joins them, two co-pilots seen through the tranparisteel. If they tried to use comms at that point, they'd find them dead. The Firespray was jamming all frequencies and signals to mask their escape into orbit. Standard rebel protocol was making random jumps, so it's what they needed to do to get outta there!
Nels Ophiran takes it slow getting his ship up into the atmosphere, weaving back and forth a little bit as he checks on the trail of smoke his ship is streaking across the sky. Once he's convinced that there isn't anything major wrong with his ship, he turns to start punching in coordinates on the Nav Computer. He then pushes the throttle full open, breaks atmo, and rockets out of the gravity well. He crosses his fingers as he tugs lever to send the ship to lightspeed down, and he blasts into hyperspace.
Calia's fighter lifts into the air on repulsors, her hands steady on the controls even as the engines sputter a little and threaten to allow gravity to drag it back down to the ground.
"Easy, girl.."
There's more whining from the engines as she leans forward on the throttle and points the nose of the ship farther up, guiding it up to a climb.
"Are we going to die?" comes Titan's voice from the back, despite the fact that he was squished forward uncomfortably against his control panel
"Probably not this time, big guy," Calia assures, "not this ti--"
Suddenly, the engine dies entirely in midair. And the ship, not being made to be a glider, plummets like a rock towards the ocean.
Alarm bells ring. Buzzers sound. Lights flash.
"This time?" comes the voice from the back.
"NOT NOW," Calia's voice carries over all the alarms, reaching and grabbing and flipping and... *THUNK*
Giving up, she'd simply kicked the underside of the control panel while hitting the starter again, and the engine coughed back to life, racing towards the ocean water until she dragged the stick back again, throwing her and everything in the ship to the rear until they were once more facing sky.
"...Okay. We're good. We're /definitely/ probably not going to die..." Beat. "Probably."
"That's what you said last time."
It takes only seconds for the ship to pass out of the atmosphere and into space, Calia reaching out and doing the calcs on the computer as they go. "You know, it'd be great if you could help with this..."
"I can't move my arms."
"It's not my fault you were made like a brick autochef... Alright.. hang on. We're either going to hit lightspeed or... you know.. explo--"
And a moment later, the ship shifts forward, stars streaking past, and it disappears from view.
