Log:Resistance: Naq for Trouble

Resistance: Naq for Trouble

OOC Date: March 06, 2020
Location: Neimoidia
Participants: Ektor, Dyannah Nerus, Sapphira Solari, Jax Greystorm, Elrych Cometburn, Lofty, Merek, Poe Dameron, The Resistance

The mist-swathed world of Neimoidia is the source of great wealth even now, decades after the system's infamous fall during the Clone Wars. The capital city of Koto-si was taken largely intact, so many of the structures- even the more humble, less opulent districts- display the aged and intricately carved wooden columns and ornate bas reliefs that have marked Neimoidian architecture for centuries. Even walls of poor plaster are ornamented with murals of common paint.

The Resistance-allied smuggler Naq Muura (who had been a mediocre ally for several years) had pleaded with Resistance Intel for a meeting on his homeworld, promising critical information in return for a safe extraction. Naq was non-specific as to what exactly he needed rescue *from*.

So here they all were, at the meeting place.

Well, *eventually* they all arrived at the meeting place in the Old City; Koto-si was a maze of colorful buildings tucked into irregular, winding stone pathways, a chaotic and vibrant riot of sweet and spicy smells, mixed with competing voices and exotic wind instruments, and off-worlders getting lost was a matter of when, not if. But finally, they were there: in front of a clothiers shop, where Naq Muura had said he would meet them. Inside, a Neimoidian woman tucked and tended one of the richly embroidered robes in display inside the open doors.

Perhaps most here are dressed in street-clothes, ready to blend in with the population (though it's doubtful anyone even in this lot is ugly enough to fully manage that) but not Sapphira. The shadows, the alleyways, the rooftops: She's staying out of sight. Granted, she's not dressed in her full stealth gear. This is, after all, a daytime mission. So she wears only the second-silk-skin of her experimental-model shadowsuit, which comes up to her neck and covers toes and fingertips. She has a single small blaster at her hip, and her red hair is twisted up and back. She's taken a position on a rooftop two buildings over and across the street. <<Looks clear from the northwest.>> she reports, speaking quietly into the comms.

Sapphira's voice, low and almost comforting, whispers again in everyone's ears: << Strike that. Couple of locals giving you guys the side eye. Mostly from the West. One humanoid too, at your 3 o'clock.>>

Elrych Cometburn might as well be an eyesore stepping into the shop. He was wearing void armor. No Lightsaber 8nsight, just an old metal sword stapped across his back. His boots clanked across the floor, and if anyone asked he was "Shopping for my hot girlfriend... yeah." Great story kid, dont get cocky. He keeps in witj the others ,but away enough for the time being.

Seductive smells and spice may be turning her Zeltron head, the colorful clothing, and murals, too. Dyannah carries a skewer in one hand and a glass of bubbly drink in the other. You would think she was a tourist on holiday looking for some fun. The blue hair gives her away as does the pink skin or perhaps its the embroidered Neimodian robe she wears over her armor. Anyone catching that detail might revise their idea about her vacation plans. Lifting a finger to the com bud, she talks to the air, "Jax, you already at the meeting point?"

Merek makes his way along with people, his CNG armor on, which looks a bit custom while being casual wear as well. He takes position with the shop while he looks to see if there is a lot of note that is about.

Jax probably wasn't making friends with his armor, it was Clone armor from the Clone Wars. The Trade Federation and all that. THough at the moment Jax seemed to be taking the option of not hiding. He moving through the area with a purpose, perhaps someone will confuse him for a bounty hunter. He stops as a hover cart goes slipping past, <Move along, I have business to attend to.> He says over the speakers of the helmet. Then on com to Dyannah, <NOpe, I'm trying but there's a cart with wares here. Sapphira's right too. We're being watched.>

Lofty the Talz sticks out like a sore first pollex in this district. He is large, white, and furry. But bodyguards are not uncommon during meetings and that is what he appears to be. As a disguise, the Talz smuggler is wearing an eyepatch over his lower left eye (he has four eyes), and a dark blue cape. Under the cape is a long heavy rifle with a wooden stock and a blowgun. The alien pauses outside the clothing store and looks around, probably waiting for his bodyguarding target, who is probably Poe Dameron.

Poe Dameron had come to Neimoidia before, and it had been one of the toughest missions of his lifetime. Smuggled in with Leia's late mother's old Naboo clothing to infiltrate the most secure vaults of this world in order to find the legendary adventurer Lor San Tekka and free him from the nefarious opulant magnates of this pompous world. He'd also been shot down here, in the same mission, so returning was not something he enjoyed but he saw the importance.

Seated as casually as one might be, at a bench before a glimmering fountain, Poe reads the daily holo on all the new happenings with the local nationals while listening to the comm traffic through one ear. BB-8, the endearing New Republic astromech that was an orange and white 'one of a kind' rolled closer to the ace pilot's booted foot as it rocked idly. Poe hummed quietly, glancing up periodically to survey his immediate surroundings.

From his reading, Poe gleaned that the local government and the neighboring Purse Worlds, were debating Republic membership with rumors of super weapons still bouncing about. In other news, there was a lot of space stock exchange details; the war had been good for this world.

The shopkeeper peers at Elrych when the Corellian states his reason for being there. Red eyes peer back at him, before sizing up the rest of the group who entered. She answered quickly in the native language, pointing at Dyannah. Raising her voice to call at someone in the back, the seamstress firmly hustles the Zeltron into a nook on one side of the room, and begins taking Dyannah's measurements, looking back at Elrych and ordering him to... do something? Who knows, no one speaks Neimoidian, anymore. From the back of the shop, another voice answers, lazily, before a tall, thin Neimoidian in garish red steps out, carrying a large stack of folded cloths. Those who had met him before would readily recognize Naq Muura.

Sapphira is keeping up watch up above still, even occasionally lifting her binocs to her face to scan some things further away. In doing so, she seems to see something that catches her interest. It's a resteraunt, with lots of outdoor seating. And at one table, tall raw seafood towers are being delivered. <<Oooooh,>> the redhead says, purring quietly to herself (and everyone else). But with nothing new to report, no words are offered.

Elrych Cometburn turns his head as the locals finger points to Dyannah, "Yeah thats her.... ant she a credit." The armored Jedi seems to hesitate as she instructs him to do something. "This way?" He is awkwardly trying to communicate back. From an outside perspective it might be humerously awkward. Though as he gets away he puts out his feelers in the force, comming over tthe groups secure comm channel. <<"Im getting... a tense feeling around here. Not from anyone inside though.... somewhere elsewhere. Elusive.">>

Skittish is the word Dyannah settles on in Basic for how she is feeling, a not entirely accurate translation from her native Zeltron. She lifts her chin to Elrych, tilts her head to the side in wide-eyed incomprehension at the assistant who takes her by the elbow whispering in Basic, "Go to room for clothes." Hoping Elrych has her in sight she raises her hand and points to the fitting room where she is being hustled. Through the half open curtain Dyannah is surrounded by tape-measure-wielding Neimodians as she looks back at Elrych with a baffled shrug.

Merek keeps looking about, not noticing a lot while he seems content in waiting. He does look to the skies a bit thoughtfully while he nods with a smile as well.

The finally moves out of the way and Jax continues on his way to the dress shop. He stops just a block short where he can see the shop but just doesn't look like he's heading to the shop as he sticks out like a sore thumb. < I'm a block away and have eyes on the destination.> He closes those eyes for a moment. Then he says, <Oww... Got to learn to be careful where I do that. THat's Sithspawn of a whistle. Sapphira, be careful, somebody's using a short range comlink on the ground floor of your building.>

Naq Muura's red eyes turn to Elrych. "Ahh! My friend, welcome, welcome- congratulations, here:" The top layer of folded cloth is taken off his stack and plopped atop Elrych's head, half blinding him. "Traditional wedding hat. Very lucky, never see bride. This way, this way!" he bids loudly, urging Elrych toward another fitting nook. He leans closer to whisper, "I hope you brought many guns. The Corellians are coming for me! Murderers, professional killers- because I found where their ships come from! Guardians of Humanity, you know them?" Covering the words with a loud, "LUCKY SOCKS, FOR NO COLD FEET."

Meanwhile, Dyannah has a privacy curtain pulled across her fitting niche, where the solitary Neimoidian seamstress hisses, "They watching! When you go, take back door. You have a ship? Fast ship? Room for us? Spaceport being watched too.." And yes, throughout the panic, Dyannah is being fitted for a gown.

"Wait ... //that's// who we're meeting?!" Sapphira, it seems, didn't read her briefer too closely. Or she forgot the Neimodian's name. Either way, the sound of his voice picked up over open comms as background noise. For the moment. <<El, tell that Neimodian that he still owes the redhead a nice dress, so make sure he grabs something for me. Jax, keep me in the loop. I'm gonna go see what we can do about these comms.>> And that's exactly what Sapphira does. The door is accessible, and her padded slippers make nary a sound as she slips inside. Standing on the highest walkway overlooking the warehouse, she crouches low and takes a moment to just look around.

Elrych Cometburn puts his hands on his hips as the blanket awashes over his helmeted head. He stands there awkwardly for a lomg moment . He manages to take it off once they are lead else where. " Okay cool... cool. Listen, relax brother. We got the keans to apring ya. Now worries." Thumbs up.

Wedding hat? Those are the only words Dyannah catches from outside. She tries to look out, but the curtain has been closed behind her. Arms out to the side, Dyannah looks down at the flat-faced alien kneeling at her feet with a tape measure. "How many people?" she whispers.

Over general coms, she says, "I'm being asked if we have a fast ship or ships out of here. They haven't said how many. They want me to leave by the back door. Updates?"

Merek keeps listening while he nods a bit, then he's finding a nice place he can watch from without being in the way, in case he might be needed as well.

Jax tries to move into position to support Sapphira, < I'll try to do my best. I'm more the big explodesions look at me guy.> He says moving into a position and pulling down his binoculars, <Amber used me for distractions all the time when I was a kid. I don't see anything.>

Poe listens intently, lowering the holo-reader to glance down at the droid that is looking to him. A subtle nod, and BB-8 begins to roll away, disappearing into the crowd and moving toward the starport.

Over the encrypted comms, Poe's voice announces some guidance. <<"If they wish to leave through the back door, it's likely under surveillance. If there are people doing recon around this building, get eyes on the backdoor, and map a route to someone's ship. /I/ don't suspect this setup is something indicative of an ambush.. not yet. Neimoidia's terrain however makes it easy for ships to hide idle in the mists.">> Poe stands up then, tossing his caf cup into a rubbish bin nearby. <<"I'm getting our fighters in the air now so we aren't caught with our pants down.">> Poe turns then, walking toward the starport. <<"Tion, buddy. Spool up the engines. We need to run a long-range recon of the surrounding area for suspicious ships.">>

<<"Oh,">> Poe adds. <<"Make sure his intel is legit. I'm not trying to cause an international incident on the promise of juicy details. I want those details up front. That's just good business.">>

Naq Muura gives a droll laugh to Elrych's assurance. "I love the Resistance. Such confidence! Eh... your self preservation, perhaps.. not so much. They call themselves 'Guardians', they getting banned bioweapons from Corporate Sector- warships taken from CorSec- genocide, you understand? Old Imperial genocide. I tell you more later, first: tell the magnificent spy Naq Muura how you plan to get me out without their ships blowing me up."

Dyannah's seamstress blinks rapidly in a Neimoidian approximation of a sniffle. "Hard. Hard to say. Perhaps... four? Nine, if you count the little ships. Also many rifles on ground." Another eye-fluttering sniffle, and the seamstress mumbles on the edge of weeping, "The color.. it looks so lovely on you. But it needs a fine hat. Not much extra." The shop owner slips out of the nook, before catching sight of Jax in his clone war armor bounty-hunting his way across the street. She shrieks, and babbles in Neimoidian. Naq promptly panics. "The clones found me- hide!" he tells Elrych. "Wait, no- I meant run!"

Poe's instructions get a lazy, << I hear you, Pretty Boy. Liiiiifting off. Will check in once I get to elevation and run a scan, yeah?>>

<<Roger that, sir. But don't hold your breath on him being overly forthcoming out the gate. Or useful. And El, I'm serious. Krifhead owes me a dress.>> That seems to be rather a point that Sapphira doesn't want to let get lost. With the silence of a lothcat, Sapphira will slip down a back staircase to the next level catwalk that can take her around the edge of the warehouse. She'll have to duck behind a crate here or drape herself in a fabulous hanging fabric there, but she makes it to the front of the warehouse relatively undetected. <<Jax, get on the ass-end of the clothiers and scout a path. I'll keep a weather eye on the front.>> Crouching low just behind a crate now, she pulls out her comlink and begins shifting channels, trying to cut in to the nearest one. Somewhere in her scanning she must've touched it, because a hiss of feedback floods her earball. Quick as those nimble, slender fingers can, she shifts the channel again and holds her breath, hoping agianst hope that maybe they won't have noticed that....

Elrych Cometburn puts a hand om the contacts shoulder, "You need to relax, alright..." He looks yowards Jax. He knows that its Jax but setuing else isnt right. That sense of danger had grown tem fold. "They're close. We need to move. I can sense he is truthful about the intel, Poe. Jax... I got an idea. Lets see if we can make the contact disappear, yeah?" Hopefully his fellow corellian understanda what he is saying. "Eggsy. Spin up thunderbolt 3... things might get hairy."

<"So what is that guy telling you, El? We need this upfront if we are going out of here hot with refugees. Wait. Ask him El. Are we planning a destination wedding and smuggling people under cover of the procession? They are saying five to nine people. We can take them on the Compass, especially if Poe and Xer are flying cover for us."

Dyannah's distant expression becomes a smirk at Sapphira's send. <"Hope we wear the same size; I'm getting fitted for some sort of dress. El, time to be getting out of here with this group.">

Crouching to put herself on the same level as the woman, she puts her head next to hers, "We need to get going. Are you ready for that? Out the back door, right?" She pulls the curtain back and looks for Elrych.

Jax's pulling his DL-44 on the run, <Whatever you're going to do kid. YOu better get it done fast, things are about to get hairy. I'M Going to try to get people a path out of here. You think the old this isn't the sith spawn informat you're looking for will work through a Trooper helmet?> He says as he tries to find a way to set up a position as Sapphira requested.

At some point during Poe's departure from the area, he adopted a run. It segued to a fullfledged run when he reached the landing platform. By the time he arrived at the Spectre, BB-8 had the initial prep going, her vents humming with a fresh heat that sent up dust from around the fighter's skids. Poe artfully climbed the ladder, kicked it off the edge, and sat down inside the cockpit pulling the lever to drop the canopy at once.

His sealed helmet was pulled on, and he ran a seasoned hand over a row of switches bringing the fighter to life with a sudden roar of powerful engines. A final tug of the restraints to safely keep him in place, and Poe was set. His ship cast backward in a sudden gust of ventral thrust, and he stalled, flipping backward before engaging his engines to fly into the deep valley and beneath the cradled city. He turned on his encrypted comms. <<"Black Leader in the air now.">>

The delivery speeder Sapphira had crouched beside abruptly lurches into motions, pulling out into the street with undue haste for such a crowded thoroughfare.

<< Annnnnd scanning. Looks like- whoa. Hey, Pretty Boy? Looks like a Corellian Two-thousand model. The, uh- say, how come 'High Culture' sounds familiar? Oh, drek- MISSILES INCOMING.>> Further commentary is cut off as high in the mists overhead, an unseen dogfight breaks out. What *is* visible for an instant to those who can still see the sky, is the abrupt flash of supersonic concussion missiles burning through the atmosphere toward the remote painted target. Those inside the building have merest instants before the building- as well as several storefronts to either side- are struct with the blast of linked starship scale concussion missiles, which plunge the buildings into fire, broken timbers, and chaos. Clearly, civilian casualties and collateral damage are no deterrent.

"Krifkrifkrifingsithbishing..." Sapphira's language is not for the faint at heart, but at least she has the good sense not to transmit it over comms. From where she was standing across the street, she could see the hit on the clothier. Krif just got real. Turning this way and that, seeking an idea, any idea, she finally gets one. It's not worth the spit of a sith, but it's an idea. In a few breaths, she's down the last few sets of stairs, likely to great confusion of the Neimodians working the warehouse, staring at the smoke and flame across the way, and slides her silk-clad self onto Frudoe's Fruits. A kick and she's off, moving toward the explosion to sweep the area for baddies. <<Three boagies on the main street!>> She says into her comms. Though the fruit stand only putters, with her foot all the way down on the clutch/gas/whatever she's working to pick up as much speed as she can as she barrels toward the baddies. <<Nerds.>> Pilots. <<We need an extraction point now, and if you can't get one I need a pilot to climb out of that rubble aye sap.>> As she speaks, she lifts her weapon. Let the pew pews begin. One shot goes off with the small weapon across her body, and the second comes as she passes the same guy. It's a behind the back shot. It's not extremely showy, but for those who know how to handle a weapon it's very, very pretty.

THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION. Elrych was enveloped in falling bebries, flames, and who knows what else. THe concusiveness of it all was rattling. THankfully, his 'Jedi Armor', a protective use of the force to create a sort of shield around ones body was well practiced and ready for such an attack. It protected him like a small bubble in a clustering of madness. Once things settled, the Jedi reached out and... pushes... The debries exploding away from him and thus their contact. Standing up, a bit out of it... he moves over towards the Contact quick and grabs them by the hand. "LET'S GO... SOME ONE GET US OUT OF HERE." He's already drawn the sword from his back. It rests ready in his right hand. Again, he reaches out with the force, trying to sheilds them visually from those near them that might wish harm... but... he can't conentrate enough. Though, he does feel the force soar through him, slowly giving him back his wits. "I've got the contact, they're alive…

The world collapses around them. Crouched to talk to the Neimoidian woman saves her life; a beam lies centimeters above her head while around her, the building has dissolved into white noise and dust. << Sap? Jax? Elrych? Report!>>

The rubble that filled the dressing room shifts, and as her hearing returns, the shop assistant's cries can be heard. Pushing off stone and mortar, she finds a shoulder, uncovers the woman's head, and tugs her out from under crumbling plaster. Wobbly, she stands pulling the woman up with her. They collapse on each other momentarily. Dragging the hem of the torn gown up she fumbles for her holstered gun and draws it. They stumble towards what was the back door and blaster fire. <"Sap,"> relief makes her voice an octave higher than normal. Ratcheting it down, <Go to the Compass. Rial has it hot and ready to go.">

Merek looks as the missiles swing into the place, and backs up a bit while he looks about. Then he's making a way to begin taking up material while he frees a Neimoidian from it, then nods a bit, "Come on!" he says, freeing that while he begins to think.

The force is Jax's ally as the Corellian stands coughing, < I'm alive and fine. The force was with us.> He looks up at the yT-2000 on it's exit course, <That Sithspawn ship is really making it hard for me to not hate. Last person to drop ordinace on me like that was Kylo Ren.> Though at the s sound of civillians calling out for help. He extends his hand out and closes his eyes hidden behind his now soot covered armor. THen moments later debris is lifing magically in the air and sitting to the side. <Probably best we listen to the boss lady and get out of here.>

The Phantom was a fast fighter. Faster than the T-85 even, and when it went full tilt, Poe could feel it. Hell his ancestors could feel it. "Uuugh! This thing really moves!" He cries out, both in frustration and excitement. The fighter is black, contrasting nicely against the misty white above as it streaked by with red engines. When he opened fire on the YT-2000, the green lances from both double heavies streamed by, coloring the mists with a green hue. <<"I've marked him, Xer. Let's rekk this thing up!">> Even though Poe missed, he was staying on the freighter.

As the escape on the ground is delayed for the sake of saving what innocent lives they can, on the road and in the air, violence continues. Mercifully, there are no more volleys of missiles streaking down to finish the job, as a pair of civilian fighters have roared into the mists in pursuit of the *High Culture*, hammering its shields hard enough to send interior lights flickering, and to send the YT-2000 abruptly racing for upper orbit, it's quad turrets spitting destruction at the Phantom and Longprobe. Ektor, after his punishing first pass, hears a squawk from his astromech. "What about the long range sensors? Oh. Uh.." click. <<Hey, Pretty Boy? Long range sensors reading a Carrack coming outta hyperspace. Long ways off, but.. yanno. Eff Why Eye, yeah?>>

<<Kriffing. Stupid. Nerds.>> Sapphira reiterates. << In the sky. Can you get a nearer extraction point for us or are we legging it to the port? Ugh, nevermind. Dy, Jax, gather the assets and get them offworld. I'll buy you some time.>> So sayeth Sapphira, just as more shots wizz around her. She ducks against the cart and banks to one side, sticking out her foot to try and steady herself at the sharp turn. Once more, she faces her opponents. Once more, she opens fire while trying to zig and zag and keep herself alive. Her zigs and zags are quite effective, but it throws her shots off.

Elrych books it down the street towards the port where their ships are, keeping mindful of potential enemies around them. "We need to stick to the buildings..." He was aware now that most of the danger was from up above. Now, all he had to do was find them a nice speeder or something to get them out of here quicker.

<"Rial, Rial. We've taken fire, so put the rose away. On our way!"> A sonic boom overhead whoops covering the sound of approaching sirens.

"Come on," Dyannah urges the woman with an arm around her waist. The two of them pick their way over a collapsed wall. Breathlessly, <"El? Do you have Naq? Going to the Compass. I have one with me.">

The Neimoidian woman keeps her upright when she trips once from the dress hampering her legs. Tearing at the cloth, the two women rip at the cloth before setting off into a loping run towards the starport.

Merek makes his way along with the team to make a way away!

Jax's moving with the team and the pair to extract. <That was a nice speeder, proper capabilities, open top, just perfect. Too bad it's got a chunk of building on it.> He turns his head to Dyannah, <Any word form Rial?>

Poe is still right on High Culture's tail, alternating with Ektor and showing that the pair have some familiarity with each other's flying. Green hued lances flicker the YT-2000's shields, shaking the vessel as it angles up toward the void.

<<"Copy. We won't be able to topple the light cruiser, but we can make sure these idiots remember we fought.">>

Switching to the ground comms, Poe comes in a bit static-y. <<"How's the situation down there?">>

<<"This is th' Rose. Standing by and ready for a bit of a run once the lot of ye are aboard,>> Rial lilts back over the Resistance comms. The blocky ship looms into sight, without any further airstrikes inbound, the run looks clear.

The speeder duel through the Old City's winding streets goes on, as does the race in the skies. Naq Muura doesn't enjoy running. By the time they reach their waiting ride off Neimoidia, all within earshot are poignantly aware of this fact. But he makes it. And then, the hasty flight from the misty world can begin.

<<Oh, you know,>> Sapphira responds to Poe on the comms. <<Getting shelled, getting shot, sampling some local cuisine. The usual.>> Her airy tone, while being subtly sassy, is also such that folks like Poe and Ektor would recognize that there is no real danger or concern from below. She swings the speeder around again, some sort of spiked orange fruit rolling out of the back cart as she does so, and squeezes off a few more shots. There's no sound, though: the weapon is silenced, and really could it be heard anyway over the roar of terrified Neimodian screams, sirens, and a dogfight up above? One final shot fired backwards as she turns her speeder and heads toward the starport. <<Wait for me if you guys can. I'm bringing lunch.>>

"Yeah I've got Naq..." Elrych says over the comms. It's clear... very clear over the comms the voice of the Neimoidian complaining about having to run. It's loud and unpleasent. "WOULD YOU SHUT UP?!" THe Jedi was possibly losing his patients or was finding it hard to concentrate on where he was going. Finally though, they make it to the port where the ship is, he points towards the compas rose. "That one... go to that one." THe Jedi starts up his personal X-Wing, T-65c Thunderbolt 3, engines already hot and ready to go.

Gasping from the run and laughing at Sap's response to Poe, "<Dress shopping takes a lot out of a girl."> At the bottom of the ramp, Dyannah looks back to see Elrych propelling Naq at them. Dyannah shakes her fist at the Jedi. <"El, I'll get you for this."> The Neimoidan complains all the way into the ship. The ramp closes behind them and the Compass lifts into takeoff.

Jax somehow ended up with Complainy McComplainy Pants, the contact. He closes his eyes inside his helmet and takes a deep breath. THen decides to do his best Obi-wan. He removes his helmet, "Why hello there. If you would just take a seat and relax. It's all over. We'll even have you some Melruun fruit to eat in a moment or two." He makes sure to sound as Corellian as possible. "Dyannah, we about ready to get out of here?"

Poe isn't willing to allow the ship to escape. This will be the last time they see it. Settling in behind the fleeing YT-2000, a grossly over-armed vessel, Poe begins to spin. That's a nice trick. Simultaneously, the double heavies on each wing begin to fire at a cyclic rate, hammering the shields while avoiding incoming fire. It's truly magnificent flying.

Poe breaks off at the last second, angling high above and using the air of atmosphere to rise high and open the smoking target up to the heavy hitting Y-Wing. <<"All you, Xer. Rekk it up, buddy.">>

<<"When you're done learning about the culture down there, it'd be good to get airborne. There's a light cruiser moving into position and we need to be gone. Yesterday.">> Poe relays back to the team. <<"The way is clear, we're dealing with the freighter responsible for the missiles now.">> The YT-2000 model was controversial at its inception: with military grade shields and armor plating, and heavily modifiable. But on the edge of escaping Neimoidia's atmosphere, there is one less of the controversial ships in the Galaxy, as Poe carries out a crippling strafing run that leaves the *High Culture* easy prey for the slower Longprobe. Escape pods launch in the moments before detonation. <<No lie, Pretty Boy? 'Rekk it up' is my second middle name.>>

The driver of the delivery speeder Sap had pursued is the only one left aboard the vehicle by the time the fruit cart breaks off pursuit. Although the collateral damage inflicted by this new menace was terrible, the heroes gave escaped with what they came for, and done what they could for those victimized by these 'Guardians of Humanity'.