Log:The Shadowport: Lord Kavendish: Tick Tock
Tick Tock goes the clock!
OOC Date: January 31, 2021
Location: The Whale
Participants: EJ as herself and GM, Rale, B'haav Adasta, Karr'roga, Kaavenn, Zhu Yan, Tarq Najjic, Khalim, Zyrette, Saturi
Mysterious messages had gone out to members of Shadowport, specifically those involved during the appearance of Lord Kavendish at the Yag Prime Station where bad things had happened. Very bad things. Shoulders were bruised, batmen were left bleeding, and Yan actually intimidated something. A strange day for all and not entirely pleasant.
The messages received had required that those who had received them arrive at the Whale for a very important engagement. An engagement that could be the difference between life and death and thus those awarded such an esteemed notice gathered, Eriu Jynx one of them and from her ship she disembarks, descending the ramp with a new face in tow...new to Port areas but likely not new to all. Tarq is given a look before she speaks up. "I take it the rest of you received a summons? A very curious one." The time, date, and location are NOW and as she touches down there is a ding on her datapad as well as any others that are presently powered up on everyone else.
The missive is a holovid and Eriu is watching her's as it plays out in various timings across the datapads.
"Welcome illustrious and devious members of the pirate organization known as Shadowport. It did not take me very long after out last meeting to find out your personal information that allowed me to send these lovely correspondences." The fluid posh accent of the man in the vids before them is none other than Kavendish. He looks pleased in that self assured sort of smarmy way. He continues... "I am so glad you could join me today for it truly is a life or death matter. After our last meeting I realized that I needed to go about this in a less direct manner, meaning that I should not be present but should make sure you get the message loud and clear."
Pause."The large ship you are currently standing on has been afforded a bit of help thanks to a few VERY expensive but very efficient assassins. They discovered a great deal of ordinance already rigged so I did not have to pay for the explosives but, I now have control of it. If anyone leaves I will trigger the explosion and you have very little time. Perhaps you can find the kill switch but I need you to listen closely."
"No one ever steals from me and gets away with it. You die. I clear your accounts. You live. We dance again and you can pay me back to keep this from happening in the future. I look forward to the future transaction. You will not..but then if you are dead you will note care. Enjoy your next hour."
The message goes dead and Eriu just stands there. "Kriff. We need to scour the ship!" Its a big ship.
Rale is not, in the slightest, happy to be here. Probably something to do with being a prey species and walking into a blatant trap, after all...He is smoking a deathstick like it is the only thing holding him upright, listening to the message with wide eyes. "Kriff." All he says, eyes bugging out before he turns abd SPRINTS to the nearest wall console, dragging over a crate and tapping away quickly at the keys. "The Sithspit isn't lying, the whole series is rigged to go up!...Defecation, that is a LOT of bombs. Why...Never mind, switch is hidden, gonna have to search by hand!" He helpfully flips the location of all the bombs and munitions to all their pads.
The cargo ramp of the Clumsy Satellite is lowering as so many peoples' datapads begin replaying the menacing holorecording. The same recording is playing on a datapad at the top of this ramp, in the hands of the eminent psychologist of Nar Shaddaa, B'haav Adasta. B'haav clenches the data pad tightly in a hand with knuckles going white - much the color of his ivory-white silk suit, double-breasted in the Hapan style. His tribly is also white with a silver feather and his left hand clenches the sleek and much-adorned silver cane he'd earned for his service on Hapes. His face is several shades of crimson, the deepest of which in places seems as though his blood may be trying to leave his system. He flings the datapad wildly, though it seems to thud harmlessly off of the wall of the cargo bay behind him as he descends. "He sent that to my other datapad. Not even the other one, the other-other one. How far do his resources go?"
At the bottom of the ramp, he looks around to all assembled, eyes settling last on Eriu Jynx. "I don't know anything about engineering, or explosives, or basically anything, but I have eyes. Who can tell me where to start looking?" He looks to Rale, pulling out another data pad from his pocket and examining the information received.
For some of Shadowport, this last sixty days has been very, very busy -- not with The Port Itself but, work. Legitimate work. Professional work. One of those is the killer named Karr'roga, a large Barabel who had been keeping himself quiet. Cleaned. Placing things away into the nearby storage when Eriu Jynx had gained his attention.
He watches. The large Barabel in Smasher Armor, armor riddled with extra sharp objects, watches as this man -- this stranger -- effectively speaks a death threat. That's fine. Normal-ish. But there is a moment where the large, exposed head of the Barabel lifts up from the holorecording to peer at Eriu Jynx, giving a low-but-deep 'gulping' noise followed by annoyed hisses, and the large fanged maw 'chittering', clicking together rapidly. The large tail then unfolds and, in a fit of aggression, thrusts down into the floor of the Whale with a heavy, loud, THWACK.
Which is when Karr'roga turns himself towards wherever Zhu Yan might be, large taloned feet clicking against the ground. In his irritation, the ability to move silently is utterly ruined -- that killing-claw, the large, curled foot-claw? It rapidly tap-tap-tap-taps into the floor. Consider for a moment the yellow slitted eyes looking for Zhu Yan, the thermal pits opening and closing, as his long claws slowly close and open again. Karr'roga had missed Kavendish, because he was attempting to prove Naia wrong -- and show her one could, indeed, pull a spine out of a living thing (you can't, that's not how spines work) but the contracts are fulfilled. The irritation rises off of the Barabel like a thunderhead, and the tail THWACKS against the floor again. A cacophony of hisses, and deep growls rising up from his guts to rise up, and out of the maw. Where is Zhu Yan?
"Wait, that wasn't from you?" Kaavenn's attention snaps onto EJ as she speaks, as if he's used to such kinds of summons from Devil Woman. You shoot somebody ONE time... well. Technically twice, and you're in the Errand Running Doghouse forever! Kaavenn's glowing red eyes look to others, and then the holovid plays answering Kaavenn's question. Ears twitch forwards towards the source, and then one rotates away out of habit, seeking out other sounds. He cannot stop from responding. "Joke's on you I'm always broke!" Such is the life of a hedonistic Shistavanen.
Red glowing eyes vanish and his jaw drops open to reveal fangs. There is a faint growl and Kaavenn's nose starts twitching as he scents the air. He has to take several steps back and forth, homing in hard on Tarq at one point with a snuffle. Kaavenn sneezes, blinks, stares at Tarq. "Right..." Then is back to it. There is a pause, and he steps away from the group more firmly. His head turns towards the rear of the ship. A deep inhale and snort. Then towards the front for a deeper inhale.
The Wolf of Chume'Dan (allegedlys), speaks up finally. "Aft there is definitely something off. But it is not new so much, but it is an issue..." His head turns towards where the prow of the Whale would be. "Before you all start mangling the scents, only a few should follow me, and stay behind. Something faint that way, but it is fresh..."
"UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
That expression of pure Ciph-like agony could have only come from one (1) Zhu Yan, clutching his face in his hands in pure, Naia-like exasperation. Just louder. Much louder. "I swear to all of your mothers I am gonna find that guy and make him eat his damn eyebrows." Now he was rubbing his temples between his thumb and middle finger. "Giving me a migraine..."
There was a deep, long-suffering sigh from the Captain of the Shadowport. "And when I see that Bith next, skin disease be damned I am going to /throttle/ him." Yes, because where did anyone think all the pre-placed bombs actually /came/ from? "There goes my damn insurance if Arcantael ever shows up. Okay. You heard the lady!" barked the smuggler, lifting his head to address all the ridiculously taller members of his motley crue. "Focus on the hangar and the engineering deck! Any in containers, we can space and they can go boom in atmo. Don't worry, the worst thing NSec can do is fine us," he lied. "And someone, ANYONE, with some slicing know-how, get into Tylin and Liz's network and find out where the blasted central switch nexus thing whatever is! Go go go!"
Rale
p
Rale chimes in helpfully, after Yan speaks "I am NOT a Slicer, I will go with Kaavenn."
"Jynx, why somber?" Those were Tarq's words as he followed Eriu onto the the Whale, but then the message happened.
Then the Kuati pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, and rolls his eyes dramatically skyward. Well, upward. He looks towards all the exits, and lets out that breath. "Tarq Najjic did not wear action - hero - trousers!" He opens his handbag, reaches in a forefinger delicately, and places it in his mouth, smearing something across his gums. No need to guess what; he's not being surreptitious, just avoiding waste and stains.
When Rale forwards the explosive locations, he gets out his datapad and heads for the nearest set of explosives. "Who so many bombs?!" He roots around in one pile, but the distrctions are numerous as his eyes grow glassy: "What is /smell/? Doesn't take Shistavanen nose..." This is so not his scene. "Do not even know where - to dig!"
Just atop the Blur's ramp, gait and posture still a hint stiffer than they were prior to their first introduction to Lord Kavendish, Khalim's eyes are locked upon the message being played through his 'pad. When it's finished, he simply stares. Their last brush with this man had left both Rale and himself suspended within bacta tanks, and trauma lingered -- if barely. Behind those dark brown eyes remained a hint of glass, the Mirialan still pushing aside soreness by pneumatically delivered stim. But here they were, and this situation was not going to resolve itself.
A side-long glance to Zyrette, a bit of steel behind that glass. "This isn't happening again," he says, and the pair descend. Bombs. Khalim was no expert, not even passingly familiar, except knowing to run, or avoid. Still, he had eyes, and a moderately keen aptitude for data console exploration and system mapping. Perhaps he could help there. Identify any breaches that Rale had not already discovered.
Zyrette didn't waste time being angry or startled. She walks down the ramp along side the Mirialan. She holds her datapad, talon tipped fingers racing over it's surface.. "Rale, can you pull up a schematic of the ship? We should... " Other suggestions and commands get called out She stops, and waits for a quiet moment. As Yan asks for a slicer, the Falleen woman sighs heavily.
"I have /some/ computer slicing knowledge and computer know how, but not a lot... I defer to anyone better equipped than I. I am not a slicer by any means."
"Pirate?" The sound of Saturi's voice calls from the Woodoo's boarding ramp. It's apparent that she heard the holorecording from afar. "I'm not a thief!" She is /NOT/ pleased with being called such nasty things. The blue woman thinks on her feet...and selfishly. Her communicator is pulled up to her lips, whispering as she descends the gangplank. "Captain. Prepare the ship for departure. We may need to leave quickly." It's a comment directed at her yacht's crew. Rock princess first...everyone else second.
Her feet click against the 'Whale's' metallic deck. "Hey!" The Pantoran's voice shouts as she continues to amble over. "I happen to know a thing or two about explosives!" She raises her arms to wave at the rest of the group. "If he's using our ordinance, it's likely junk! A half-baked attempt at a proper setup. If it's connected to the ship, you might be able to disable it by shutting down power." A pause. "Theorizing, clearly!"
Yan's sound out frustration gets a look but Eriu is already moving to join Rale at the interface as the others begin to react. "Tarq, you may just need to be a pair of eyes no need for hero pants...even they are probably fantastic. I did not exactly where the otufit I wanted to die in." She pulls down her goggles and sets them into place as Kaavenn starts to direct others towards the fore with his nose and people begin delving for information.
"I can check and see if the system is hooked into the explosives but knowing Liz, likely not. They were likely put on a separate ...whatever. I am no demolitions expert."
She looks to Saturi. "If we can't find that killswitch we are going to need to begin disabling them. We need two groups really. Perhaps three, one to start sweeping fore and the other aft for the killswitch. Yan should begin taking you, Saturi and anyone else that can begin disabling bombs to their locations."
That said she looks to the rest as Kaavenn goes fore with Rale. "A team form to go fore." The others can sort themselves out as she begins to type away at the interface without looking up. "All will be well, Karr'roga. You should go with a group, just in case there are surprises. I can keep everyone informed from here and use the internal comm to take info and also send it on. I can't see well in certain lighting so this makes sense. B'haav best to pick a group to help search with, as may eyes as can be had."
Rale roams ahead with Kaavenn and possibly Karr'roga, able to see into the darkest spots with his huge, heat-sensing eyes. His nose goes to work supporting Kaavenn, even as his ears quiver and turn this way and that. He pauses about halfway down the engineering deck, and flips his comms. "Guys. My hearing is pinging something to the foreward. Getting softer as I head back, think the killswitch is up front. Will keep looking." And off he goes into the dark, a silent shadow sniffing after their silent killers, bjt sticking near to Karr'roga.
B'haav nods, taking orders and moving to the aft to help sweep. Space psychologists are good for grunt work when the station's about to explode. He shakes his head, lifting his hat and tossing it carelessly towards his ship - so much tension is built up in the air that his palps are just about itching. His right palp carries a faint glint of a durasteel ring, perhaps a quarter-inch in diameter, and seems to hand a little more off to the side. As the group disperses and the air clears a little, B'haav is pulled to look at, of all things, a jacket. A simple black jacket that, in the environment nearly completely bereft of personal effects, screams, 'Witness me!' He turns to his fellow search party and motions at it.
"Witness this? There's something... Not okay about this." He leans in and kneels down to give it a closer look. "Just in the middle of nowhere, no reason, no purpose, no... style. And nothing's right, it's torn. See anything it could have caught on here?"
Those saurian eyes, those slitted pupils, they hone in on Zhu Yan when he's shouting and for no vocalized reason -- large claws unsheathe. But then Eriu Jynx is speaking, commanding, and the fanged maw turns...then turns back to Zhu Yan, then back to Eriu Jynx, then back to Zhu Yan...and there's a rumble - claws digging into the metal near the Captain of Shadowport, the metal screaming, leaving wretched grooves behind. Nostrils flare, and that large tail gives another aggressive THWACK to the floor near the Captain.
Then, Karr'roga is off to the aft, and he is NOT quiet about his approach. You know who looks forward to being hunted by a Barabel in limited space? No one sane, for sure. The large Barabel moves between two limbs and four in his motions, and when he enters the aft proper? The eyes shut...the thermal pits open wiiiiiide - he pauses in one room. Frozen like a statue with killing-claws still drawn. Barabel terrified The Empire not just for their killing qualities, or stubborness in dying but the ruthless cunning. The fanged maw turns to stare at a singular spot, and then comes a loud 'bark', jaw lifted towards the air to repeat the noise three times. Then three again. Before following the trail his pits had spotted, and those claws slowly begin to drag against the wall-material...and in the dark, there is a cacophony of loud, crocodillian hissing. With words that rumble through the airspace. "Ssssspeak now, orrrrr Thissss Onnnne will eat yourrrr limbssss first. Then your soft partssssss. You will watch." The barks? A signal to those with, very large ears.
"Pinging?" Kaavenn looks to the Chadra-Fan and nods. He'd already chosen the fresh scent. "All right, we need to pay attention as we go. Good chance there's booby traps set up." Kaavenn doesn't mention he knows this because that's what HE would do to help off someone. Or in many cases, has already pre-planned out for several Shadowportians. He's still working up plans for Tarq on the fly while dealing with this mess.
One thing different for Kaavenn on the Whale is he is definitely wearing armor. He rarely does this outside of combat, so it seems Shadowport has had an effect on him. He keeps a hand on the helmet clipped to his waist. He needs his sniffer free, otherwise he'd be wearing it already just in case of exposure to sudden vacuum.
The Shistavanen does the scout thing, but with his nose still. "Definitely heavier this way. But it's new. Real new. Only a few hours new. So. Either they were fast, or... we still have company." He clicks his comlink on, transmitting on the general Shadowport channel. <<"Yan, EJ... do we have any way to check landing and boarding data? It's a long shot with professionals, I know. And that guy seemed to be the quality over quantity type. But whatever scent I am picking up is only a few hours old.">>
"You're right," Yan said to Saturi, a statement that normally took two hours of pleading and possibly literal pliers to pry out of him. It was just Not His Day(TM). "Having a single point of ignition would make it logical to route it through the ship power grid, a lot less overhead, and you don't need too much boom to rupture a ship. But," Yan's finger shot up in the primest display of pure irritation, "the Whale was rigged up by a F-"
Across the verdant plains of Chandrila, a pack of herd creatures is startled by an ungodly sound in the distance.
"-ING MADMAN who takes pleasure in two things, substance abuse, and destructive tendencies. Logic? Out the viewport!" There was some heavy breathing as Yan struggled to regain his composure, His own ship being rigged to blow was something of an insult. "Alright, sorry, not your fault. You've got the boom boom knowledge so consider yourself Prime Valued Asset." Stress increases, vocabulary deteriorates. Joy.
"EJ, dear" the terms of endearment and the very, very calm tone came out when Yan was trying hard not to crack, "please hook into the clamp controls for the cargo network. If we run out of time I'd like for it to rain crates." Politeness! He must be /very/ stressed. "Also you look fantastic, ten out of ten. Everyone else!" That was an abrupt snap-back to the rest of the assembled peanut gallery. "You heard the ma'am! Check around the hyperdrive, engines, and hangar controls first!" Yan knew his ship, and though he was no mad bomber, he knew what would cause the most damage. "Primarily fuel lines! If I know Liz, he'd rig the ship into one giant bomb, so anything that can start a chain-reaction will be primary target. Let's go!"
Tarq stalks aft behind B'haav. "Is this normal day, here?" he asks the Balosar. When the other focuses on the jacket, he crouches next to it, running a finger down it. "Nice," he says quietly. He eyes the seam. "Is tailored, but look." He pulls the tear gently apart to see inside. "Blood. Not /too/ much," more's the pity. "Will not come out. Ruined." He leans towards it, sniffing twice, before releasing his grip and rising to his feet abruptly. "Not safe, yes? Not quite Republic standard." He turns in place, raising his arms. "What might it /not/ rip on?" There is a steady stream of drama flowing from his lips, but his eyes are darting from place to place as he turns. He just doesn't see anything particularly jagged and/or bloody, space-OSHA non-compliance notwithstanding.
Joining Team Aft, Khalim proceeds on this impromptu highly explosive scavenger hunt. it doesn't take long for B'haav to locate that black jacket. Out of place. Torn. The Balosar was absolutely right, something stank, and for once it wasn't something Yan had been eating, fallen bits left to molder on the floor. "That's... not a jacket I've ever seen one of us wear," he observes.
As the party progresses beyond the coat, they approach the engineering compartment. Solid blast resistant doors lead within. The Mirialan points, then bends down to examine... a black scrap of fabric. "From the coat," he says, for the benefit of any still with him. And more blood. With a deep frown dark brown eyes shift along a dragged streak of red that leads to the door.
Khalim rises, and fingers the color of a freshly picked manta pear tap a general bypass code. The door opens, slowly, and just beyond can be seen a slumped figure, dressed head to toe in the deepest black. /Seemingly/ dead, from the amount of blood they've leaked across the durasteel decking. A comm unit has tumbled to the ground beside the still figure.
"Body," Khalim calls out. His pistol is slipped out of its holster, held at the low ready. Just in case.
Zyrette found that plans were swiftly changing. Instead of trying to dig through the computers, the Falleen found herself headed after, towards engineering, with the bulks of the group. "Only Kaaven and Rale went fore?" She questions doubtfully. "I think the division of talent was a little, uneven..." She comments as She watches B'haav and Tarq a moment.
Along the way, amber gaze swept their path. Tongue slipped out, tracing along the outer swell over lower lip, seeking out anything out of the place. She just hoped if they did happen upon any bombs, she'd be able to disable them.
Zee watches as 'Roga ranges ahead of them. The crocodilian's vocalizations echoed down the bulk heads. However, as soon as Khalim called out body, Zee stepped closer. "This isn't one of Karr'rogga's late night snacks?" She asked drily, though as she did so, she followed a blood trail that lead deeper within the Whale.
"I've lost it." She announces to the group, and then over comms. <<'There's a body in engineering. Blood trail leads deeper into the ship, but I've lost it.'>>
Before bothering herself with any sort of work, Saturi stops her ambling pace near a set of crates in the hangar. She undoes her golden headpiece, places the jewelry on the makeshift counter, and runs blue hands through her loose hair. "I'm going to take a look at that humming Rale was talking about." The woman calls out to anyone still nearby.
With a few steps aft, some educated guesses, and a bit of luck...the Pantoran finds what the Chanda-fan may have been talking about. She works to pull apart the panel leading towards the exterior bulkhead. Inside? A mess of wires, fuel lines, and assorted accelerant. "They're..." A deep breath, "They're not tied into the ship's systems!" Her voice sounds shrill as it bounces off the interior walls. "If the entire ship is setup like this, they'll all hum quietly! It's shoddy work!...but." The echo takes a moment to stop ricocheting from the wall. "It's going to take forever to get these disposed of! They're running down the length of the ship!"
Eriu looks up at Yan, glances at Karr'roga at the posturing and then tilts her head as she glances through her Teta goggles. "If I knew you liked this look I would wear it more but go," she says, shooing him as she gets them patched into the system and starts to scan, working through the safeguards to get the signal spread wide. The hum of the bombs near those who find them grow due to this scan but it does not set them off, just an interference of sorts but it can be unnerving.
Khalim finds the dead man in the aft which may be the trail of heat that Karr'roga saw or it may not. But Zyrette manages to loop around some of the internal guts of the engineering section only to loose track of the trail. What a fine jacket the other two are considering at the moment.
In the fore the humming grows more faint for Rale and Kaavenn's nose picks up fresh scent. Hours, mere hours old. Its not a comforting thing and as they tour forward towards the bridge its hard to get a sense of where someone walked due to the fact metal rarely leaves any impressions behind.
From the comms, <"Saturi is not wrong. I am getting faint traces along the mid and aft hull around the ship with a centralized frequency interference in the aft at the center of engineering. Kriffing Bith. Yan we are going to need to talk after this.">
"Acknowledged," Rale replies to EJ and Khalim both, slinking ahead with great caution in the spots of dark the shoddy workmanship leaves, before finally reaching the bridge. Carefull, he circles the outside, sniffing and prowling before he spots the chair.
He freezes, held in place stronger than any tractor beam, his expression one of a man who just turned to find a blaster muzzle mid-firing aimed between his eyes. His voice is hoarse, quiet, but carries an infinite weight of finality to it. <<"He took Muri. Kavendish has Muri.">> He approaches the small item in the chair, the braid of hair with tiny bead intertwined. <<"Left us a token.">>
"Let me put it this way, Tarq Najjic... If you ever see more than four of us in the same place, it's safe to assume that something is on the verge of exploding or someone's about to get shot. You can't take us anywhere." B'haav inspects the jacket where the Nar Shaddaan fashion icon spotted the blood, then turns to note Khalim following a blood trail into engineering. "Wait, Zyrette, only two went fore? I know Zhu Yan said engineering is important, but the Whale is... Well, a kriffing space whale." He starts to stand when something in the way the jacket is sitting catches his eye. Looking more closely, B'haav shifts the jacket a little and spots... The outline of something that definitely wasn't put there by any haberdasher of repute. Turning the jacket over, the Balosar isolates it and follows the stitching until he's able to find a weak point in the seam beneath the armor plates.
"There." Tearing, he pulls out the lining and fishes within, producing a small, silver, well-hidden- <<"Code cylinder here. Not sure what it belongs to, but they were taking efforts to keep it hidden. Do you want this relayed somewhere, Eriu Jynx?">>
When Zyrette calls, from almost nowhere comes a Barabel. His claws sliding through wall-material, raking down against the floor - and even stabbing into the cooling body of...whoever this is. That large foot-talon stabs down into the spine with a sickening THWUMP, and Karr'roga's fanged maw turns this way and that. His presence is an aggitated, irritated, rising thunderhead of aggression about to snap -- and that tail sways this way, and that way, thermal pits opening - closing - opening again. Each time, relaying new data to the brain. There again, another three loud 'barks' coughed into the air before Karr'roga is down on all fours and begins to VIOLENTLY persue the blood. His hissing rising and falling, "FFfffffFFfffffiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnne! Eaten aliiiiiiive it isssssssssss...!" Whatever pact made between Karr'roga and whoever he was chasing, now spoken outloud. Underscored, even. He'll crawl between conduits, claws audibly scraping the floor, tearing through materials as he fits himself into tight quarters -- following a blood-trail that, to his eyes, is still hot. Too aggressive, blood growing hotter, and now too hot to communicate beyond: Eat.
Halfway listening to the commchatter Kaavenn sighs. Noone listens to the Assassin posing as a Sniper-Scout. Again, you allegedly shoot your boss twice... granted only three people know this that Kaavenn is aware of. Glowing red eyes keep focused ahead as much as possible. Tripwires suck. Only bastards would use such techniques. Kaavenn happens to be a bastard. So when Zyrette calls out a dead body on the comms. <<"Any idea who?">> The talk on the explosives is not his forte.
When Rale points out his discovery, Kaavenn does his best. 'Yes that is some hair and a bead' nod. It's also what he was scenting.
Kaavenn sudden leaps sideways half turning as he draws his Pursuader to point it at where the corner of his vision pinged a warning. "Down!" The latter is for Rale's sale just as much as hopefully startling whatever the kriff he just saw.
"<<If you can drag Liz outta whatever hole he's in, talk to him. This is beyond my level of suicidal.>>" Which might be why Yan hadn't been the one to do it, because he'd never have actually gone through with blowing everything up if he could avoid it. Helps to bluff when you've got cards in your hand.
Having followed Saturi to the bomb, and looming inasmuch as he could being so short over her shoulder, he looked at the mess that befell him and squinted in suspicion. "Let's worry about disabling first. One step at a time, get the know-how back to the rest of our techies, then we can dispose of 'em. Chuck 'em in the bar and grill container and eject it." Yan fracking hated that place. "Then we c-"
WHAT?!
"Hold on a minute." Yan pulled the comm back out, tapped a button, and said, "<<Confirm for me without a shadow of a doubt that they have Meeyuri, Rale.>>" Full name again. That Fauxrellian accent was falling off, into something distinctively Mid Rim. "<<Bav, get the cylinder to Zee or EJ. We need that open. Everyone else, find that killswitch!>>" Orders. Yan's ability to search was hampered by the fact that he couldn't focus for more than point-two of a second at a time. Everything looked the SAME. Ooooh, candy! YOINK.
The slim Kuati snorts at B'haav's description of Shadowport. "Parties must be something." He paces onward after Khalim as the Balosar searches the jacket more closely. In the engineering compartment, he looks at the body, then at Khalim's drawn pistol. "Cover Tarq Najjic," he says, as he crouches next to the body. He pushes it unceremoniously over onto its back and frisks him with quick, thorough attention. It's almost like he's ransacked dead people's possessions before!
He casually pockets the credits the man had, and the begins piling his findings. "Is still warm," he warns. He opens the man's jacket, gives it a careful look. "Bolt through chest. Khalim, he still has own jacket. Whoever bled on other one-" He shrugs and then surveys his "pile": exactly one datapad, with something attached to one of its ports.
He flips it on, and stands bolt upright. He thumbs his comlink. <<"Have layout of bombs- and tracker showing killswitch!" He immediately begins walking where the map indicates. He doesn't know the layout of this vessel, but with this map, he doesn't need to. "Left... right...." he mutters. HE'll need the rest of the aft crew to get there in good time and know what to do with it.
Tarq's discovery of the kill-switch tracker is met with a hardened glare in the direction the tracker indicates. Zyrette, newly rejoined with the group after losing that blood trail receives a quick side-long glance, and then the party is moving with Tarq. The tracker pings further to aft, a little off-center down the corridor that proceeds from compartments hardened main entrance. Left-Right, and then again. These service corridors, intended to provide access to parts of this freighter's massive sublight drives and power generation systems are at times wide, others narrow, never so much that it impedes Kar'rroga's frame, however.
Finally they reach a compartment labeled 'AUX BATT', containing the control and cycling mechanisms of the starship's auxiliary power generation system. The door is closed and locked. Khalim enters the bypass code given the 'Port members. No response. In fact, a little glowy red light upon the code panel that practically shouts 'DENIED'. The door itself, however, is not armored. It's not intended to withstand depressurization. It's just a door.
"Kriff this," Khalim mutters, and takes a step back. With a couple of steps of momentum he slams a shoulder against the door, drawing a pained gasp as his recently healed, yet still sensitive chest injury protests. The door stands. He steps back again, and repeats. A dent. A third slam, and a loud grunt of pain as something deep within his chest pricks back. With a clatter the door breaks open, one hinge twisted free. With a shove the entrance is clear.
Zyrette stares at Karr'roga as he bursts out of no where and swears his blood vengeance. Or, whatever it is he is chugging and snarling. A hand goes over her earhole as the comms crackle. She swears softly in Falleen at the chatter, and talk of Muri being abducted after all.
As the soft hisses subside, she calms and returns to the dead body. With crooked brow ridge, she watches as Tarq pilfers the dead man's body. "You seem to have some experience at this Master Najjic.." She observes wryly.
Her sarcasm settles however as they are once again on the trail. With Khalim, they track down the secured compartment. Khalim's override command fails, and Zee moves forward to assist. "Wait if I just..." but before she can offer an argument to the contrary, Khalim burst open the compartment.
<<"Kill switch and a datapad. in compartment.">> Comes her dispassionate contralto over comms. With tip of tongue trapped between lips, and amber eyes narrowed behind tetan goggles, she gets to work. A few grunts of effort, and then a hiss of triumph. <<"Killswitch disabled.">>
Breathing down someone's neck won't typically result in...results. The Pantoran continues to look over the 'Madman's' creation, trying to understand exactly how the explosives are designed. She grips at the roots of her hair whilst she thinks, pulling at her scalp for 'brain power'. "Yan." The blue woman says over her shoulder as she drums up an awful plan. The tone of her voice indicates that he should be worried. Nimble fingers work to tie the string of bombs into the ship's main power grid.
'Killswitch disabled' ... a second too late...
Lighting on the starboard side of the ship flickers wildly before cutting out. Sparks shoot out from the bulkhead, showering anyone on the right side of the ship with heated arcs. Bright flashes of energy jump along the walls, providing brief flashes of light for the crew.
At least there weren't any explosions!
"We're not dead." Saturi nervously laughs from the blackened hallway. "Do...you have a torch?" The question is directed back at the stressed Captain. "I don't think the lights are coming back on."
<"Heard. B'haav you can bring it back so I can take a look at what it might open on the interface up here."> This is broadcast over the ship of course because there is no other way but Eriu is watching as the interference on the scanners just ceases to be on the starboard side of the ship thanks to Saturi's innovative and rather risky venture. The bombs are still up on the port side and the cente rof engineering but faulty readouts begin to pope up as the result of Saturi's success comes with some havoc as well.
<"What is happenning over there, Saturi?!">
There are problems everywhere. Khalim, Tarq and Zyrette find the device needed to kill the rest of the bombs but its accompanied by a datapad that is resting on an open call waiting to connect once they press the button.
Karr'roga is on the hunt and the heat of the blood, the passing of something organic is not so far ahead but the scrambling barabel draws a rather heavy cry from the rodian at the end of the trail. Its dressed in black, the jacket missing and is looking to be bleeding out as it levels it blaster and aims off center mass as a bolt scores the conduit beside Roga.
While on the bridge the appearing echani in full black, untouched and healthy glances at Kaavenn's gun as it rushes him and lifts the blade in readiness to attack him as Rale has the realization what has gone on and that Muri is now gone.
<"Thank the moon, thank goodness. Saturi keep disabling those death traps now."> Its not really over.
Rale is staring at the bundle with stone-cold expression as he taps his comms. <<"Confirmed, He has Muri. This is a mess-CONTACT BRIDGE!">> as he is interrupted mid-speech by the sudden warning from Kaavenn, whirling just in time to see an Echani start to rush past him. Rale is, even on his worst day, blindingly quick on the uptake and turns, bolting forward and lowering his center-mass to shoulder-check the large being //Hard// right in his kneecap, sending him off-course and off his feet, hopefully giving his Wolfman coworker a clear shot at the assailant as he tugs free his carbine and scampers free of the pair..Just in case Kaavenn isn't thorough.
B'haav is running as soon as the order is given on the comms, the cylinder tucked into his pants pocket. The silver cane? It does nothing for him here. The very, very fancy leather shoes? They're not built for speed or efficiency. But he is off like a shot and his wardrobe just does what it can to keep up with a man driven. So in the zone is the Balosar shrink that he sees to soothe the nerves of the Shadowportians and special guests while running at maximum speed. <<"Everyone, let's keep our eyes on the task at hand. Find the bombs, save the Whale and all our lives. We'll find Muri, somewhere between here and the other end of the Galaxy. Eyes open, comms clear for relay!">>
Yeah... Him too. It was important though, right? He skids to a halt at the station where he'd last seen the Hapan with the ha-plan and the man Zhu Yan. The cylinder is already out and in the air towards the group of people who know things, of which B'haav does not count himself a member.
Karr'roga isn't able to communicate beyond the bestial hissing, the cacophony of vocalizations that rumble through the halls. It's a blurr to him, really, so focused on the bloodtrail is the Barabel that when he finally catches the thermal bloom of the Rodian's shape in his vision? The Barabel isn't unphased by the nearby bolt from the blaster. But honed. Shaking. Shivering. The outburst of violence that was promised comes in sudden strikes -- the blaster is shattered with a swipe of a claw. A bicep is torn free from bone by that maw, not quite chewed so much as torn free with the clothing, and gulped down. Then a calf muscle, Karr'roga whipping his head from side-to-side and heaving the Rodian against the nearby floor. The screams of the Rodian pierce the airspace -- "STOOOOP! No! Stop! I-I have informat-ion, on, on, on -- Where -- NO!" Another bite. Another shriek of pain.
The Barabel had given an ultimatum. The Rodian ran. Now he was going to be eaten alive, and watch it happen, but for whatever reason -- Karr'roga halts, so still as if to be frozen in place. If the screams weren't enough to be heard, the Rodian's voice travels over Karr'roga's comms...and those eyelids suddenly snap open, staring down with thin slit pupils. Waiting.
This deal just keeps getting worse all the time!! Kaavenn takes a micro-second to irrationally think about going to EJ and Yan and renegotiating his contract. There's mention of Liz and that can never be good, not one bit. Kaavenn has more pressing issues at the moment having leapt aside and drawn his sidearm. He has a brief moment to think as he is trying to aim his Persuader.
Yep. I'm flying through the air. This is not good.
Rale heard the warning, that part is good. Rale bum rushes the Echani... ECHANI?!!... and smashes his knee. Even better. The barrel shifts, B'haav is inspiring on finding Muri, who Kaavenn remembers is rather hot and make be thankful!
His glowing reds are staring where the blaster bolts need to appear, and the firing stud is pressed twice. Two holes appear that incapacitate instead of outright kill. Kaavenn is enraged, and it shows when he bares fangs in a ripping snarl at the competition, another assassin has dared step onto his territory. No words, just a snarling looking like he wants to rip out a throat with his fangs Shistavanen.
With his quarry cowed. <<"It's definitely her scent, Yan. Plus this bead. We're pretty sure.">> Kaavenn offers up. It's all he can do as he's busy, he can hear broadcasts of bombs and kill switches the exact moment he had leapt aside. He's got an Echani assassin to deal with. <<"One prisoner taken, Echani assassin.">> Kaavenn sounds angry about it. "Rale step away, it's liable to be boobytrapped, and more dangerous cornered and wounded." There is a pause, a nod of thanks at Rale while eyes never leave the Echani. "Good job, Rale. Back of my belt? There are binders. Grab his blade first, actually. No. It may be poisoned, nudge it this way with your foot or something?" Kaavenn's got to pay attention here. So it is with his left hand he brings out his Z6 riot baton, and then and only then does he blindly holster his blaster with the casualness of a lot of practice.
His mind starts replaying some of the commchatter, Zyrette declaring killswitch disabled. But there had been a lot of echoing electrical shutdown noises that seemed excessive afterwards that are concerning.
"I swear to sithspit if that high-kicking funny-talking /fop/ managed to do what none of my hardened killers could, I'm hiring him and-" and that was when all the lights went crazy. Bright flashes! Unsafe arcs! Sparks flew between Yan and Saturi! And then, darkness.
There was a patting of pockets and a, "No, sorr-" and then he was so rudely interrupted. "<<Keep 'em alive!>>" he erupted over the comm to Rale, possibly deafening poor Saturi in the process. <<"If you can. If not, I understand!">> he added, now that he had time to think about it. "Sorry, might be about to get some answers," he said back to Saturi, or where he assumed the Pantoran was in the gloom. "Good work, you've just saved our lives. I'll make sure about getting you a bonus of some sort." Gratitude = money is what his voice in the darkness was saying. Sithspit, now how was he going to navigate? <<"EJ, if you've got the killswitch, shut the rest down.>>"
Tarq makes a pained expression as Khalim appears to re-injure himself breaking ope the door, and then braces against the corridor wall while crouching when Zyrette goes in to deactivate the bombs OR blow them all up. When it turns out to be the former, he peers in to participate in the looting once more: he picks up the datapad that waits with an open call. He looks at the other two, shakes his head, and says, "Not - Tarq Najjic's - business. All will want to hear, yes?" He picks up the datapad, inclining his head back the way they came and then starts walking back that way. Slowly, because he doesn't actually know the proper path back. He waits at the second intersection to instead follow the Mirialan and Falleen back to Eriu Jynx, to whom he will pass both datapads: the explosive tracker and the waiting comm connection.
Once the door had been breached, a clearly pained Mirialan settled against a bulkhead while Zyrette and Tarq entered to do whatever it was that needed to be done. An arm, held protectively against his chest, was a mirror of his posture prior to his bacta bath just a few days earlier. When the pair return, Zee with a kill-switch in hand, Tarq with a datapad, he attempts to straighten -- and mostly succeeds. Tarq's words draw a nod. "I think so," he manages to get out, voice just a hint strained, "we should get it to Eriu." And with that he's leading the little group back to fore, right-left this time, back out those central compartments they had originally left to begin their scavenger hunt. Seeing Eriu, they close the final distance.
Zyrette nods succinctly a she disables to device. Yes. That did it she was sure. A few worrisome snarls ands pains cries come from the direction the Barabel had headed, fortunately however, that is not a direction she need go in. Instead she nods at Tarq, "Yes, I think we ought to bring it to the others, Master Najjic." She agrees. Still unfamiliar with the Whale, she depends on Khalim, and together the three return to Ej.
"A bonus?" Saturi's alto voice exclaims from the darkness. "I wasn't aware you were even paying me..." Unlike Kaavenn, there wasn't any contract to renegotiate. "If I've been entitled to credits over the past year, you're going to have to start paying out." If anything, her involvement with the port was more to her benefit than Yan's. She's rarely around...and when she is...it's just to dump some junk into one of the free storage containers. "We'll talk about this when we get out of here."
Her hands feel along the wall as she orients herself. "This way." She calls out as a guide, moving towards the engineering section. "Try not to trip on any of your trash that's been left about..." The asteroid miner warns.
Eriu is reading the interface and the readouts from the ongoing scan. What did Saturi do?! <"Yan, they got the killswitch. Zyrette turned them off but really we need to get rid of all of this honestly. I do not a repeat. Please."> Both being so polite tonight. Stress can do that but as the B'haav arrives first she takes the code cylinder and inserts it into the interface. "Stars on a cracker...this thing is high priced and highly encrypted. Its a passcode for a location...somewhere that these suckers who are still on our ship likely knows. Well done." Said to B'haav before she glances up to see the other three sans Karr'roga. Uhhh.
She takes the datapad and begins to power it up and hit the call....
Meanwhile in the cockpit the snarling Shista is scary enough but a mini bat figure is topping it off. Wheezing and holding his wound the Echani holds up his hand and nods. "I will give you info if you let me go."
At the same moment the poor bloody and in pain Greedil wheezes and speaks out of his strange mouth. "Do not eat me....I...I....I know where Kavendish is."
....the call is connected and its another prerecorded holovid of Kavendish but he's not alone. Beside him is a far less colorful Netep Muri. Black hair, hazel eyes and dressed up in something rather expensive as he keeps his arm around her lower back. "It seems you found the killswitch. Well done. Just in case you did I made sure to have a contingency and it is a very lovely one at that.' He looks to Muri. 'I would like to see my money back in full if you are interested in seeing Miss Muri back...in full." Meanwhile while he is talking Muri is staring passed the recorder, looking at something as she whispers her prayers and seems to be scheming, "The Guardian stands before the storm ; Sheltering all so safe and warm ; So lift your prayers, you?ll know no harm ; She saves her little children."
But when Kavendish quips the last? Muri adds with hard eye contact with the camera and a smirk, "...be a shame to ruin another lovely dress."
Eriu curses below her breath. <"We got a rescue in our future.">
