Log:Resistance: Scavenger's Surprise

Scavenger's Surprise - a short

OOC Date: February 5, 2018
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Ambrosia Greystorm

The Nenghain block is a mess.

Smoke still rises from debris littering the streets. Gnarled bits of metal, a peppering of duracrete rubble...telling remnants of yesterday's catastrophic raid on this nondescript, abandoned droid factory. What's left of it anyway. The fires ravaging the bowels of the facility still smolder away far beneath the streets, smoke filtering out through the cuts in the canyon wall. Evidence of aerial warfare pockmark the surrounding area, leaving a few small craters in roads and structure alike.

But where there's destruction, there's profit! After the First Order left the scene of their victory, the time for scavengers' delight had come. Handfuls of adventurous local riffraff scour over the cursed ground. Where there is no risk, there can be no gain. The mission? Collect more and better junk than your neighbor and cart it down to the nether regions of Ko Hentota to make a steal...before it can be stolen from you.

And so it is that there's a pair of Ugnaughts scrambling around the charred remains of what appears to have been a scrap bin capsized under the refuse chute of the droid factory's formerly operational neighbor. Doesn't seem like anyone's turned up for work today, though. The bin itself is still a bit warm to the touch, on account of what must've been a hell of a trashfire. Or a hit from a TIE fighter. They've pulled a mangled body from the wreckage already and stripped salvagable bits of armor off, in addition to snatching the carbine flung some feet away.

As they break from unearthing treasures to quarrel with a nosy Jenet, there's a knock at the door. Er, in the bin, rather.

• Clunk*

A few pieces of blackened trash shiver and roll off the pile under said capsized bin. Intrigued, the squat little aliens cease their quibbling to reexamine this mountain of mystery.

• CLAaAaANG*

The Jenet jumps back from the resonating force and decides to take this opportunity to pick up the carbine off the Ugnaught's growing hoard in their speeder and takes off scurrying to her own lair. The Ugnaughts look to one another before venturing forward to grab hold of a spindly blaster bot carcass atop the garbage heap and tug it away from what rustles and thumps beneath the lip of that bin.

Their mistake.

An explosion of crispy refuse kicks them off the mountain of spilled scrap and as they tumble down, one blistered hand claws its way into open air, searching for purchase. It finds it on the lip of toppled bin, and pulls. More and more garbage falls away as a sooty face emerges to take a gasp of fresher air (and you know it's bad when any Nar Shaddaan air is considered fresh).

The poor scavengers are just getting to their feet as the rest of the figure climbs out, shakes off the ash, and sags against the too-warm edge of bin. It's a bloody phoenix. Naturally, she's going to be disoriented...and pissy.

One of the two Ugnaughts does get a squeal of protest out before that blaster levels its barrel in their direction and fires two succint bursts of blue energy. The opportunistic residents crumple in an unconscious heap and present Ambrosia with just one more obstacle to stumble over after she fumbles her way down.

Ow.

The lesser General looks to the tattered remains of her gloves, then reaches with a shaky hand to feel the source of that insufferable ache in her head. There's matted hair and then there's shards of less organic things. Probably pieces of the street...or factory.

The crackling of a nearby commlink commands her thoughts away from inner misery to the present and she looks to the broken body of a stormtrooper nearby the Ugnaugts' stash. Is that her knife?

The risen rebel surveys her options, not feeling in the best of conditions to hike her way out of this mess. Greystorm limps around the speeder in favor of jacking the accompanying bike and stiffly mounts the thing with a long and sorry look to what remains of Hound Base. Did they get out? Was her warning enough? Her efforts here? Only one way to know for certain.

"Time to find some wings," Amber mutters to herself and kicks the speeder bike into gear before she slumps into a fit of coughing and almost the steers the thing into a wall. It's going to be a long, shitty ride.