Log:Voss Galactic Sabotage, Part 3

- - - SCENARIO ****

You have been hired by Lady Aria Voss, the heiress of the Voss Galactic Corporation, to exact revenge on the Black Nova Corporation, their rival on Nar Shaddaa. The two companies are in the middle of a turf war, and Lady Voss has drastically underbid many of Black Nova's existing contracts so that she can strike directly at her rivals without upsetting any potential future business relationships.

You are a team of demolitions experts hired to strategically destroy the Black Nova port facility without causing damage to surrounding structures or the operations of other factions (such as the Hutt Cartel). The team has been tasked with infiltrating the Black Nova port facility in the Rigging Zone and planting explosives to destroy as much of it as possible, including the docking platforms (and ships).

The team has been given 6 demolitions charges to distribute among themselves, each large enough to take out one of the docking platforms by itself, and all pre-programmed to a single remote trigger. Each charge requires two rounds to set -- one round of Demolitions (diff 100) to place and one round of Computer Use (diff 100) to arm, during which no other action can be taken.

The hangar is heavily guarded, and the team must find a way to bypass security measures while carrying out their mission.

The Black Nova Corporation has many allies. Though the Gearhead District is notoriously lawless, security alarms will not go unanswered. However, one FINAL caveat was placed on the mission by Lady Voss herself. It was added later, almost as an afterthought:

Do not cause needless loss of life. Attempt to evacuate the facility before it is destroyed.

DOCK PERSONNEL ENTRANCE

As the team's ship gracefully descends onto Dock C, the platform hums to life beneath them. The whir of machinery and the clatter of moving cargo fill the air, punctuated by the occasional shout from a dock worker or the beep of a droid. Outside the ship's viewport, they see a sprawling panorama of the Rigging Zone, a testament to industrial might, bristling with the promise of danger and opportunity.

Stretching out before them is a vast, metallic expanse, a labyrinth of stacked cargo containers, cranes, and hulking ships. The Black Nova fleet is an imposing sight, their ships resting in their berths like slumbering leviathans. Each ship is a marvel of modern engineering, sleek and deadly, bristling with weapons and advanced defensive systems.

To the side of the platform, a handful of dock workers are busy loading a nearby freighter with supplies. They work in a well-rehearsed dance, moving with the effortless grace born of countless hours of practice. Nearby, a cluster of astromech droids scurries about. Anti-ship and anti-personnel turrets are visible at strategic points, their sleek shapes a stark reminder of the facility's heavy defenses.

At the far end of the platform, the blast door leading into the facility stands open. There are two sentient and one droid guard standing in front of it, only allowing officially uniformed and badged 'Black Nova Corp' personnel inside. Scurrying amidst the flurry of activity are numerous droids: hulking load lifters, agile astromechs buzzing with electronic chatter, even the occasional protocol droid directing operations with crisp efficiency. Their optical sensors flicker with activity as they weave through the chaos, each fulfilling its programmed tasks with mechanical precision. Inside the port facility, there are stacks upon stacks of crates, some being loaded and others being unloaded, set upon the two large lifts that will take them down to lower levels.

The Down and Out, a modest YT-2000, settles upon one of the docks with the loading ramp lowered to permit the swaggering Siywa Tralos to meet whatever quartermaster comes up to discuss the particulars of her contract pick up, "Aye there, pal." Montrels wrapping around the front of her neck like a pair of scarves, grin on her face showing off rows of sharp teeths beneath the red lips. She'd paid pretty gorram good credits to get her ships designation added to the list of expected vessels. Pulled a few strings with people who have the kind of leverage that can move mountains. All for the singular purpose of getting that team onto this platform to do their work.

She exchanges pleasantries, a pair of identical Dug flanking her, padding down the ramp upon ther upper appendages to start moving cargo on hover loaders back up the ramp. It wouldn't pay very good for there not to be actual cargo being exchanged right?

Is she skimming a little extra payment by stealing some cargo nobody is likely going to miss because everyone's going to be exploded?

That's a big fat yes.

Leaning against the hydrolic arm of the ramp, she peers up into the belly of her ship, "Alright you good for nothings, get down here and start earning your pay looking menancing or whatever..." A glance at the Black Nova dock workers, big grin, "You're gonna absolutely love these guys, the big one has a sense of humor like nothing I've ever heard in my life."

Cadogan West sat aboard the freighter on its way in, attention divided between the projection of their mission, and triple checking the detonation triggers on the provided explosives. That last caveat drew a raised brow and a dry query of, "What exactly ye figure she considers 'needless', yeah?" That wondered, he adds aloud, "Who else wants a charge?"

<<"Who knows what they consider, as long as they pay...">> and it doesn't strike into a very specific rule for the big man, 'No children. No slavery.

Demolitions work without 'needless' loss of life. Sometimes needless is a particularly gray area. Playing the part of 'shipboard marine' today, the Boar-Wolf of Ealor looms in full armor. Helmet on and the imagery of sabacc cards on full display. Seven of Sabers. Two of Coins. Statistically the worst hand to be dealt, the likelihood of drawing for Sabacc, Pure Sabacc, or anything close is remote at best, all but the most audacious or arguably insane folded when it was their first cards. It was a visual cue, to inform those who knew what they were seeing 'Give up now, you've already lost'.

Charges tucked beneath his cuirass and cuisse rather than hanging from his combat webbing, Hadrix Kora descends when the word is given like a storm cloud. Red glow in the right branch of his visor flitting from one figure to the next and his hands drop from where they hung with thumbs hooked in his belt to rest loose at his sides. Ready to move if the situation requires.

Still speaking on comms all the while, <<"I can make for Docks B and A to plant charges. Possibly even get under to plant on supports for the main deck.">> six charges... So little. Glad he had his own party favors as well.

"Bringing down the house, but no needless loss of life? Hey, so long as the credits are good, I'm not going to argue," the mercenary that is Kol Goren remarks offhand. He contents himself with checking over his equipment while he offers a little shake of his head from side to side at Cadogan, "You don't want me toting that stuff around. Basic understanding for effectiveness. I can arm it all day, but don't ask me where to cram the thing." He concludes this with a hand that lifts and presents his gloved palm, as though indicating his own refusal of the explosive. Though he does add after a beat, "You want me to partner up with someone who knows where to place it but can't arm it? I'm your guy."

Zena is not the big one. She's the little one. She -is- really funny, though. When she's not on the job. Though, sometimes she tries to be when she's on it and it's always iffy. This time, though, she's silent as she disembarks the Down and Out with a rifle nearly as tall as she is slung on her back. It's almost comical.

That distinctive armor and helmet say otherwise, though. There is nothing funny about an armed and armored Mandalorian.

She steps away from the ramp, moving aside so everybody else can disembark, finding something to lean on and look menacing for a moment. 'Menacing' anyway. She adds her own bit to the (hopefully really) secure comms.

<<"I'm gonna find an overwatch point and cover you all while you do the demo work.">>

She levers herself off of the crate she was leaning on and starts to slowly wander away. It's so much easier to play the ditz with the helmet off.

It's an older Besalisk that leans up off of a crate and ambles over to meet Siywa. He's in full Black Nova Corporation uniform. Two of his arms are holding datapads with manifests, another is holding a comlink, and another is gesturing vaguely around like he can't help move it when he talks.

"Yeah, movin' this along would be good. We got a stupid amount of ships in here right now. I don't know what happened. All the contracts dried up, so we pulled a bunch of personnel out. Now all of a sudden, we got more than we can do," he says, presenting the Togruta with one of the datapads to read over and approve -- the standard inventory of what was being taken off and what was supposed to be re-loaded.

Those beady Besalisk eyes shift from Siwya to the other members of her crew, however, and his free hand gestures. "I'm sure he's hilarious. Just keep 'em out of the facility, yeah? Company personnel only. Contractors stay on the platform. Security's been a real pain in the kriffer, lately."

Droids and dock workers were already starting to move out to take the cargo off of the YT-2000.

A trio of guards stood on the docking platform at the entrance to the main facility, chatting with each other and checking IDs for anyone that tried to walk past them. They really didn't seem to care too much about what was happening /on/ the platform. Different ships cycled through this place 24/7. Inside the building, guards could be seen walking the catwalks, leaving the floor empty for cargo workers and technicians.

Points of interest that most anyone could see:

The top of the YT-2000 they rode in on could see both landing platforms on the east side very well. So could various spots around it, using the ship for cover. Though one might look odd just sitting up there.

It would be an easy jet-pack hop over to the platform D, but it would /definitely/ set off alarms as all of the Black Nova workers watched you go.

The top of the building is easy enough to reach by jetpack, too. But, again, would definitely set off alarms.

The guards, though there are plenty (a trio on each platform plus the ones on the catwalks) seem like pretty average 'trained' security. We're not talking rocket scientists or professional sharpshooters, here.

In addition to the trio of guards, there are two anti-personnel turrets on each platform, near the main doors. They're the small turrets that have the fairly limited range.

The facility is in normal operation, so all of the big 'blast doors' are standing open.

"You're telling me, buddy." The Corellian accented Togruta says, pushing off the hydrolic arm of her loading ramp and head over to meet the Older Besalisk, "Contracts have been drying up all over the place.." The datapad he's holding out to her, to go over the exchange of goods on and off her ship, is turned around in orange hands. Thumbs working on the screen with a little grin, "I've actually had to do some private contract work for a travelling sideshow out of Socorro. I don't know if you know what a cargohold full of uniengined riding trained bantha smells like, but I assure you it aint roses." >c:accesslocal(rootaccess=newuser set true)]

"Never mind the gorram clowns." She laughs and shakes her head, leaning on a crate, "Son of a nerf herder actually still uses a seltzer bottle.. you know one of those old models? Not a pressure hose in sight, just some really low tech squirt gun like you'd use to train a lothe cat."

access=currentadmin level set=global true(newuser: tickletown)]

"So I says to this guy, buddy if you hit me in the face with another pie, I'm going to have my big friend over there-" Nodding to the Mandalorians, "-juggle you like property taxes."

setturret=false

"Needless to say, he got the message and he stopped trying to be funny all the time."

She closes the program, twists her wrist to hold the datapad back out, and grins. As all the turrets on the platform twirl into a standard forward position and lock in shutdown mode.

"I'll never get the smell of bantha crap out of my hold, though. Tell your guys to put on-" Hand waving in her face, afront of her mouth, "-masks.. unless they're into poop. I don't yuck anyone's yum."

Cadogan West nods to Kol, a wry curl to his lip. "Right. Follow after me, then. I'll place the charge and move on, so I ain't sitting round looking suspicious too long, then you follow up and arm it. Start on this platform, then move on to D," since Hadrix has set off for A and B. He follows after Siywa, interjecting as she finishes up her bantha crap routine, "Can I verify that real quick, Captain?" reaching for the networked datapad, before its passed back to security.

Rule number one of blending in is acting like you belong. So when Kol Goren slips from the YT-2000, he's carrying a bag of tools in one hand. A nod of acknowledgment is cast toward Cadogan for now, but otherwise the merc minds his own business and gives his bag of tools a quick double-checking. It doesn't take long for him to go missing among the stacks of crates and containers. He remains ever in Cadogan's periphery, effectively acting as the other's distant shadow. Where Cadogan goes, Kol soon follows. Ever keeping his distance so that they're never in close proximity to one another. That way when Cadogan's finished his plant and Kol approaches to finish the job; one person busy performing some maintenance routine or another is far easier to overlook or discard than two.

One could almost feel the narrowing eyes through the visor of the big man's helmet before he turns in a slow arc that carries him what would appear to be a perimeter check. His footfalls audible until he he can see he's out of sight, especially from the turrets that go offline.

<<"Well. That's handy.">> the cultured woman's voice on his private comms coming from the droid mounted in her socket on his back, the ID10 unit there keeping still, especially when the big man casually strolls into the shadows cast by a gathering of crates waiting to be moved.

<<"Slicers are usefull.">> His steps carrying him to the railing and then right over - one hand out to catch him and he begins swinging through the support structure. Tucking up where he needs to look for his next hand hold, using all four limbs to brace when needed while making his way for the landing dock across from their own.

<<"En route, Dock B supports.">> switched over to the group's comms now, Hadrix keeps on moving, head on a swivel for potential spotters.

Zena wanders just a little bit. She doesn't go far, but she goes far enough to see that finding a nice, out of the way space to perch is going to be really loud and/or annoying. Not worth it. She turns, looking back at the ship and gets a fantastic idea.

The littlest Mando bustles back to the DnO and slips up the ramp, dodging cargo loarding. "<<"Pardon me,">> she says through the vocoder. She darts into the main area of the ship, rooting around in a cubby and coming out with a tool kit. She moves to the ladder that leads to the top hatch, climbing up, opening it and crawling out atop the ship, closing the hatch behind her.

She crawls across the roof of the ship, toolkit in hand until she finds a place she can nearly see everywhere. She unslings her rifle, setting the bipod up and leaving it rest there.

It's good for it to sit on the bipod like that, it protects the optics.

Then she just...pretends to do minor repairs. She could actually -do- them, but the ship doesn't need them!

The mission is pretty straight forward. Sneak down and blow up some landing points. The don't kill anybody part does add a bit of a wrinkle, because it means they'll need to be more careful than usual...But if they do it right they won't even get noticed before the explosives go off.

Terek watches as Hadrix heads off for platform B, coming in over comms a moment later, <"Headed for C."> He says, as he heads over that way. Unfortunately for him, it would seem that someone may be slacking on some of their maintenance, because as he slips down to the side of the platform, part of the duracrete gives way and he falls of the side of the landing, managing to snatch the bottom of the landing platform with a hand, digging his claws into the metal with his left hand and holding on tight. He takes a moment to look way, way down at the depths of the moon below him. He does remember he has a jetpack, thank you.

At least it should get the attention of the guards and workers. Unless they don't care about someone falling off their docks.

"/Clowns/? I guess we outa' be glad we ain't got rekkin' clowns," the big Besalisk dock master chortles at Siywa as she goes through the datapad, gesturing around the platform. "You know I had 10 Tauntauns come through here the other day. Ten of them. With the the frakkin' cooling units because apparently these was some prized tauntauns or somethin', and that ain't even as bad as clowns." He makes a vague gesture to Cadogan when he walks up. "Yeah, whatever. We're here until they load it, anyway. Look, I gotta check on another shipment. Let me know when you're done with it." Then the Besalisk walks off, pulling up his other datapad and his comlink at the same time, walking back towards the main port building.

He's so engrossed in his datapad that doesn't seem to notice when the turrets reset back to their forward facing positions and nose down slightly, locking in place. But the guards near entrance to the port facility to, one of them hitting the other with his elbow and nodding over to them. "Hey, what's up with that?"

"With what?" the other guard asks.

"With the turrets. What are you, an idiot?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like a turret tech to you? Why don't you go look at it?"

"Maybe I will!"

The second guard makes a gesture that was definitely not a salute, and the first one ambles off to nudge the turret with the toe of his boot.

And that would have been it for the guards, had Terek not nearly plummeted off the side of the platform. All three of the door guards come running over, the two sentients and the droid, as soon as Terek tries to go over the edge.

"Hey! Buddy! Hold on! We've got you!"

And all three of them immediately set to trying to help, with the droid largely just stupidly standing there and supervising.

Which is how the doorway to the interior was left unguarded.

The datapad is, instead, held out to Cadogan when the dock worker goes on about Tauntauns, "Those things have a truly repugnant odor about them... Like raw sewage wrapped in corn beef and covered in wet kathhound fur." She sucks on her sharp teeth and shakes her head, slipping a blaster pistol from one of her holsters beneath her vest to tuck into the back of her waistband where she can more easily pull it when they time for violent extradiction of personele becomes foremost upon the agenda.

"OH! Cleetus!" She shouts, seeing Terek go top over the edge. She, with the guards, rushes over to peer down at him. Hands resting on her thighs as she leans forward, "You'll have to forgive my heavily armored compatriot." Apologetically to the trio of guards, "He's a bit slippery on his feet and has a questionable affection for peering over the edge of tall structures."

She kneels down and holds her gloved hand down to him and, again with the assistance of stronk guards, hoists the armored feller back up onto the dock. Patting his shoulder like she's dusting him off. "Now, Cleetus... what have I told you about staring into the abyss? That's right, only when there's money down there.." An intent glance at Terek and then a side eye at the unguarded doorways.

Cadogan West accepts the datapad with a nod of thanks, and as the attention of many is pulled by turrets or Tereks, Cadogan walks unhurried toward the 'neck' linking Docking bay C to the main platform, utterly engrossed in his rapid work. <<"Right then, Black Nova's agenda for today now has a priority coolant line inspection, subcontracted to Klaun Coolant Systems. Cause like the lady said: she brought the clowns, yeah?">> Behind his helmet, the Tionese outlaw cracks a grin. <<"So if ye get caught someplace you oughtn't be, tell em you're looking for leaks. Moving into position on Platform C-">> Only when he says it does it register that one of his teammates was headed to C, and Cado is briefly puzzled.

"C'mon up to the house..."

Hanging with his legs looped through durasteel support frames, toes of his boots braced so that he can better 'sit up' at the support structure he's working at, the big man's comms have been toggled off with a bite-tab and he is prepping the explosive, using the beat of the old folk tune to time his work, his voice not quite what one would say to be... pleasant for singing as he growls through the words,'

"Don't life seem nasty, brutish, n'short... C'mon up to the house..."

Disassembling the charge that was issued and giving it a look while he's swung to hang upside down, dragging out a line of det-tape to help fix the explosives in place. "When all the seas are stormy, you can't find a port... C'mon up to the house." checking the hold and lifting a hand for Gripper, now floating beside him, to place the detonator into.

<<"You certainly love your work...">> her aristocrat's accent almost purring and inside his helmet Hadrix suppresses a chuckle.

Thanks in part to Terek's misfortune, Kol's able to follow after Cadogan and the datapad that he carries. Meanwhile Kol maintains his current armament: a tool kit. It's a vital thing on a series of platforms such as this. As he walks he begins to fish about in the tool kit. He draws a hydrospanner within and carefully hangs it from his webbing. Then it's a head lamp that he pulls out and deftly slips on. It's all about looking the part. Finally he draws a servodriver from among the tool kit and keeps that in hand, carefully carrying both the kit itself and tool in a cupped hand. All the better to look the part and as though he's on an urgent maintenance mission.

He swiftly extends his free hand to collect dust from one of the cargo crates and begins to smudge it across his face, further creating his new persona of Hanq Hol'powndur. Satisfied he continues on in Cadogan's wake, shadowing him from a distance and keeping an eye on his point's back.

Atop the ship, Zena putters. It's absolutely fake puttering, but she occasionally clangs a spanner against something and swears violently. That should be enough, right? Mechanics always wear a lot and bang around. (She actually knows this, since she works on her own ship all the time.)

After a few minutes of this, she drops the spanner back into the kit and gets low atop the ship. She slithers up to her rifle, mounting up behind it, linking the optics to her HUD in her helmet.

<<"Alright. I've got you all covered. If I need to start shooting, you'll know.">>

With the appearance of the captain, and the two guards, Terek is able to reach up and grab hold and get pulled up back onto the solid ground of the platform proper. He takes a few moments to adjust himself, <"Was not expecting the ground to collapse."> He responds to the Torgruta, <"No harm done, but I feel like this should get taken care of, don't you?"> He asks to Siywa, hoping she'll take the ball and run with it, <"Maybe we should see the dockmaster about this.">

"Oh, hey, thanks for the help, Cap'n," one of the Black Nova guards says once they finally get Terek back up on the landing platform, breathing out a sigh of relief. "You've got /no/ idea how much paperwork that would have been. Tav here definitely would have lost his job over it, too."

Tav shakes his head. "Me?! The droid was supposed to be watching!"

"Affirmative. I was watching. The sentient nearly plummeted to his death."

"Yeah, but like he says, this is supposed to be taken care of!" says the first guard says, gesturing back to where Terek was pointing. "Hey, you're right. Where'd the dockmaster go?" And with that mission in mind, the three guards start to venture back towards the main building, presumably to go looking for the dockmaster.

No one on either of the visible platforms or the catwalk seems to notice Zena setting up her sniper nest, and no one yet is even present to bother Cadogan on the current platform. As a matter of fact, the only three guards that would have challenged him have ambled off on a quest to find the long lost dockmaster.

Meanwhile, Haddy is spiderman.

The guards all turn towards the doorway through which Cadogan and Kol were just sneaking and Siywa calls after them. Not just picking up the ball and running with it, but making sure everyone gets to look really dope, INCLUDING HER.. She's got one skill in all of this and it's heaping on so much bullshit they can't see straight. "You dang right this is your fault, TAV." She calls out, "We're not done talking here, my security just damn near fell off the side of a gorram dock. I feel like going to, by legal statute seven seven two of the morality standards and ethics code, needa speak to your supervisor..."

She trails after them, clearly milking for a pay off here.

A bribe.

Anything to keep them from looking at them doors for a few seconds until the pair have snuck out real proper like.

"You know what, don't worry about, you're right, that's a lot of paperwork. Besides I'm a lady of the people and you guys look stressed out. Do they give y'all breaks? I tell you what, you go take five, huh? We're almost done loading up here anyways, we'll be outta here and you guys get to put your feet up for a few minutes. How's that for a slice of warm pie?" Thumbing over her shoulder to the Down and Out. "We all forget about all this messy falling over the edge stuff."

Cadogan West chooses a spot at the base of the 'neck' where platform C anchors to the main station, angles the bomb to maximize the damage that will result from the blast, and mere moments later is moving into the main dockyard, using his datapad to record notes as he proceeds with his 'inspection'. <<"Charge planted on C, moving to Platform D, now.">>

The detonator in place, Hadrix is on the move again. Swinging hand to hand and even hooking legs to wheel under and over like a circus performer beneath the platform structure. Gripper keeping close, as well was quiet, while the big man goes about his work. <<"B ready, moving to A.">>

Announced amid the held breaths and huffs as he flips and swings like a kowakian monkey-lizard through the support works.

<<"Kar...">>

<<"Buir?">> Father? The young man's voice on comms, surprise in his tone.

<<"Get your sisters, prep Lizard Lion and Mythosaur, if this goes belly up, you three will need to do a strafing run, torps and concs.">>

The silence carries a palpable swallowing sensation and the man's son's voice returns, <<"Copy. We're moving. Give the word.">>

<<"Copy.">>

He goes quiet again, coming up on the next cluster of supports, hooking his legs and preparing to go back to work.

While Cadogan stoops down to work, Kol wastes little time a few yards away swiping a datapad from an empty ammunition pouch-turned-datapad pocket. The middle aged merc takes a moment to consider, nodding along with whatever it is he's reading. At some point he mutters, albeit quietly, to himself, "Lighting power regulator's burnt out on D? Tch," he clucks his tongue with faux annoyance. He casually slips the datapad away when Cadogan begins to move again, announcing his departure. A span of only a few seconds is given before Kol's casually following along to stand where Cadogan had only recently moved from.

When Goren kneels down he considers not his objective, but the security personnel that Siywa's currently distracting. He doesn't distract himself for long, because soon Kol's attention turns back to the explosive. He doesn't turn his head from his work, but his eyes do dance to each side as far as his helmet will permit him to look. The coast is clear and he quickly begins activating the arming code. The final button pressed, Kol rises up and begins to move. Once again moving to travel some yards before Cadogan while his left hand moves his servodriver to his right hand and he comments quietly with his accent hailing from Naboo, <<"C is primed. Moving D.">>

Zena is, by all metrics, a good sniper. In cases like this, she'd prefer to be in her hiding spot and do nothing. It means the mission is going well. It means that everyone is doing their jobs perfectly. So far, so good. The guards are distracted and apparently gone, comms are telling her that the explosives are being set. The only reason she'd even have to cycle her weapon to live is if something goes badly.

Thusly, the littlest Mando is prone on the ship, shouldered up to her rifle and keeping an eye on everyone she can see for the moment. It's boring work, but it's what she signed up for. It's not like fighting warlords on Mandalore. That's a targetrich environment. This isn't. Maybe she should have worn the short dress and helped with distraction.

Nah.

When the guards run off to find the dockmaster, Terek lets out a faint sigh of relief, so he gets up and quickly gets his bearings, <"Right. Heading towards A now.">

He can be sneaky when the ground isn't literally falling out from under him, <"Good thing there won't be much landing pad left pretty soon.">

Sticking to the shadows, he makes his way back to the main building, so he can head his way back towards platform A. It'll take a bit to get there though, but better safe than sorry.

The guards had stopped for a moment to look back at Siywa when she shouted at them, apparently entirely unsure what legal statute seven seven two was or where they would even find the morality standards and ethics code!

"No, we got it! We're gonna go get the boss!" the one of the guards says, just as Kol is walking in after Cadogan. "Boss!!"

Cadogan and Kol have both rounded the big blast door that leads into the main port facility for the Black Nova Corporation. Inside, it's bustling with activity, technicians and dock hands of all races and various models of droids (from cargo haulers to astromechs) move around on their assigned tasks. The unifying thing about them all is that they all were wearing Black Nova Uniforms. Given that Cadogan and Kol are /not/ in Black Nova uniforms, they stand out more than a little.

"Hey! You! Stop!" it's one of the security droids up on the catwalk pointing down at them, its whiny voice vaguely tinny through its vocabulator. "Where's your identification?!"

And just like that, one of the guards from the Dock D door is moving towards them, rifle carried across his chest 'ready' but not threateningly so. "What are you doing in here?" he asks, moving to intercept them about half-way to the other door.

As all of that is happening, Terek is slipping through the unguarded door and slipping into a hiding spot, just before...

"What?! What now?!" comes the voice of the Besalisk a moment later, booming from just inside the doorway to Dock C.

The three guards are all with him as they walk back out, and the four-armed dockmaster takes a moment to look around the doorway. "Who told you to leave your post?"

"Well, he was falling over the edge, sir..."

"Who was?"

"The.. the one that's.." one of the guards holds up a hand a couple of inches above his own head. ".. that's all in armor.."

"One of theirs?" the dockmaster demands, flinging a hand towards the Down and Out.

"Yes, sir. They said it was a violation of.. um... moral code.. seven.. six.."

"Seven Seven," Tav corrects.

"Seven seven two of the morality standards and ethics code," the droid recites.

"WHAT ethics code?!" the Besalisk rumbles, turning to stalk towards the Siywa ship. "Take me to him."

Siywa has taken up resident leaning against a crate what hasn't been loaded onto her ship yet. She's fiddling with the hem of her shirt by the time the Besalisk is stalking up to her. Grinning up at him as he approaches, hand sitting down in the small of her back leaning up agains tthe crate supporting her weight. That she's got her hand wrapped around the grip of her pistol is not at all important because, her primary mode of conflict is done with her running mouth.

There's an old Corellian proverb: Talk enough shit and eventually everything smells funny.

Siywa takes that to heart.

"Hey bud." Up nodding to the dockmaster, "We're almost done getting everything loaded up." As if that's the only possible reason he'd have to come speak with her, big blue eyes looking from guards to Besalisk, "I can tell by the look in your eyes that you're here to talk compensation for my crew fell over the edge of the dock." One hand comes up, waving slowly side to side as she shakes her head.

"He's clumsy, no harm no foul. Now, usually I'd say we report this, ya know? But like you said, so much work needs doing and not enough hands to do it all. So how's about we chalk all this up to slippery deck plates and right it off as bad luck?" She thumbs back up the ramp of her ship, "I've already got him onboard in medical. That armor might look invincible, but I assure you the little guy got all dinged up. Thankfully, I've got the best doctor this side of Corellian College of Medicine on board."

A brief pause, "You been keeping up with the Shockball tourney? I, personally, feel like Coruscant stood a pretty good chance until Shiro Cataro was injured last match. Shame too, kid had the magic fingers... lost me six thousand credits." Her tongue sucks off the roof of her mouth. "Win some, lose some, amirite?"

Cadogan West looks up at the security droid, with terse annoyance. When the uniformed guard from Dock D approaches, Cadogan walks right up to him, as if there were nothing in the world to hide. "I told your squad at entry, and I ain't got the time to repeat this every twenty paces: we're with K.C.S., we're contracted for a full inspection of the coolant lines and pressure vents. Verify it with your supervisors, we got clearance. Klaun Coolant Systems. Kay-El-Ay-Yu-En." Cadogan gestures ahead to Platform D, with a 'can we get on with this?' gesture.

Scuttling beneath the platforms, hooking his legs again to brace with beskar-toed boots, Al'Verde Kora nods to the droid with him once they're positioned. Digging materials out from their hiding spots between iron plates and the gambeson worn beneath, Hadrix does a check of the equipment with Gripper seconding.

Swapping to private comms between he and the droid, <<"Two kilos here, too?">>

<<"Overkill, much?">>

<<"Measure twice, explode once.">> the pair quipping as he prepares to go to work, det-tape coming out and the ring of it hung from a hook on his belt, turned to account for his inverted position.

Kol doesn't speak. In moments such as these, words can fail easily. Actions usually speak, even if they're subtle. While most eyes are on Cadogan while he weaves his tale, any eyes that turn toward Kol are met only by a dirt and grime covered maintenance worker adorned in tools hanging from straps and webs, a tool kit in hand, and servodriver in the other that he simply lifts up to show up as though to say 'see? let me get to work'. Klaun Coolant Systems prides itself on efficient service. Kol doesn't say that of course, but he gestures it well enough. He's pretty good at illustrating his meaning through the power of body language. Who'd have guessed a human could do that?

He looks expectantly toward Platform D's door, then looks to Cadogan's back as though he's the supervisor on duty and Kol's the work just waiting to get into the dirt and dust to get the coolant lines and pressure vents inspected.

The dockmaster returns. He's not quite bellowing, but he seems out of sorts. She goes completely still, making sure not to scrape her armor against the ship, nudge the gun or even breathe too hard. If she gets caught, it's all over. After all, why would someone dealing with cargo need a sniper nest atop her ship?

Nefarious purposes.

Zena breathes slowly and shallowly, trying to stave off as much noise as possible. Maybe she should have worn the dress.

No good way to get past those guards, and Hadrix is already in position. Terek takes a knee where he's hidden at, scanning the area and marking the guards locations for now. He's more than happy to hold position and wait until the rest of the devices are planted.

He takes a knee, his dark armor blending in with the shadows, <"Holding position."> He updates the group, waiting to see if the rest of the devices get set without issue. The dockmaster being back and pissed isn't great.

The two lower of the Besalisk's fists ball and place on on his hips as he stops in front of Siywa to listen. He rolls his eyes, apparently not as amused by her storytelling as he had been before, but at least he doesn't push for any more details about 'where he is.'

"Yeah, the sooner we get you out of here, the better," the dockmaster says, turning around to face the three guards that are still standing close by.

"GET BACK TO YOUR POSTS!" he shouts, sending them scurrying back to the door.

"If it's not one thing it's another. Your people are falling off the platforms, and now I've got tech complaining about the blasted tur--" He seems to think better about admitting that and waves a hand dismissively. "Finish up. I want this platform cleared in ten minutes."

And then, once more, the dockmaster is headed back towards the building.

MEANWHILE..

"Kay-El-Ay-Yu-En," the security guard that's leading Cadogan and Kol back to the other guards at the door to platform D is saying into his comlink. "Coolant Systems. Yeah. He says it's a coolant line inspection -- I mean, I guess it makes sense, right? No.. Platform D, not C. Yeah, but he's here at D. You want me to just let him do it? Fine."

The guard stops at the door and waves Cadogan and Kol out.

"Boss says do what you need to do. Just don't shut down traffic."

Siywa is disappointed by the lack of amusement that comes from her story slingin, but it means she doesn't have to sling blaster bolts so it could have definitely gone a lot worse. When guards and dockmaster are headed off in the direction of not near her, she brings her hand up to rub her mouth, <<"Alright guys they're starting to get a little suspicions and I'm running out of shit to bull.">> Since she's the one responsible for them turrets going down, she already knows what it is he's going to remedy. <<"We have a little under ten minutes to be somewhere the kriff else... probably less before the guns are back on line. Just food for thought.">>

She turns then and starts up the ramp into her ship, headed for the cockpit. Vekhi peers at her, "We good boss?" He gets a thumbs up, "Get ready on the guns, just to be on the safe side. We're probably leaving this platform under diress." The Dug snorts, "That's different from any other job we've ever done, how?"

"There's mandalorian's involved... it's different... they're dramatic."

Cadogan West nods along, "Coolant lines are in the walls, we'll stay out of your way," he returns to the guard, stepping into the neck of platform D, and scanning a wall. Looking discreet about setting up a bomb with guards RIGHT THERE takes him a moment, but the second charge is in place and stowed out of easy sight soon enough. He'll cover for Kol by asking boilerplate questions of the guards. Has anyone tampered with this line? Have all safety regulations been obeyed? Blah blah, thanks mate. Over the team's comm, as his fingers fly across the face of the datapad, <<"Charge placed on D. Returning to ship now, and - heh. You're about to be the last of their concerns, Cap.">> Grinning tightly to himself, Cadogan triggers the signals to the alert lights and accesses the platform's speakers, from which a level, calmed voice states, <<"Attention, all personnel; attention, all personnel: a minor reactor incident is underway. All personnel should proceed calmly to the nearest available exit. Under your terms of employment, Black Nova is not responsible for any resulting loss of life, or property. Everything is under control. Warning: a critical reactor incident is underway - proceed immediately-">>

<<"Three kilos.">> the droid notes and the Massive Mandalorian nods, pulling from his private stock again, affixing the charge in place and connecting the detonator before he looks to the ID10 and she hovers around to socket herself back into Hadrix's armor.

<<"B set, I'm Ar-Tee-Bee">> resisting the urge to simply drop and engage his jetpack. Hell, resisting the urge to simply drop down into the depths and trust his anti-gravs to engage when proximity sensors go off. But that means he might have to dodge falling shrapnel in addition to navigating the undercities guts. <<"Keep the ramp down for me.">>

And he still has to tell his kids they won't need to blow something up with his fighters.

For his part Goren keeps it simple, asking directions to the refresher or break room. The caf any good? Nothing too complex. Just enough to keep nearby personnel's attention on himself. Dirt and grime smudged as he is.

Kol wastes little time getting the final explosive armed while Cadogan's keeps the guards occupied. Soon enough he moves to join with Cadogan once again, signaling his completion with a little up-nod.

The evacuation code starts to go off and Kol exchanges a look toward Cadogan. There's what feels like a rather long time that Goren's left staring at West. It's really only a couple of seconds, but it feels like longer. For Kol, anyway. Suddenly his tool kit drops to the catwalk with a heavy clatter of tools and durasteel rattling, clanging, clanking, chiming, and banging. Immediatley after, still staring at Cadogan, Kol's arms are thrown into the air and he begins running down the catwalk connecting Platform D and Platform C.

"AUUGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" He runs, frantically looking over his shoulder as he goes. Fearful of whatever is to follow. More than likely a fiery explosion. His arms wave about in the air, fear driving him onward and his body not entirely certain how to react to such blind panic. He's still got his servodriver in hand, because his hand had convulsed into a fist. The headlamp that he wears clicks on at some point, bouncing and bobbing to further showcase his panic as his heavy bootfalls bang and clank across the catwalk. It's probably because he's from Klaun Coolant Systems that he doesn't know exactly where to evacuate to, because soon enough he's dashing through the access port of Platform C and running off toward the Down and Out. Servodriving waving about above his head, his other arm waving alongside it as he calls out, "Save me! Take me with you! THIS WHOLE PLACE IS GOING TO MELT DOWN!!!"

Soon he's charging up the boarding ramp of the Down and Out while so many others begin looking toward the North and South Catwalks or industrial lifts to make good their own escapes.

The dockmaster, who Zena has decided is kind of a prick, wanders off. Bored out of her mind up here, she just kind of lays into her gun, focusing on the back of the guy's head as he wanders off swearing. She's honestly just idly practicing laying in a bead on a target. Not that she really needs the practice, but fundamentals are important! You have to find the center and pull the trigger. That's the basis of all long ranged firearms!

There's a flash of movement in her viewfinder as Terek strikes the droid like some kind of Apex Predator, some kind of Viper out of nowhere and sends it sailing to the depths below. Finished.

The bad news (for the dockmaster) is that she was not expecting it (as it was out of nowhere), and her hand tenses. Her hand on her gun. The finger on her trigger. The gun goes off, the -blat- of the blaster bolt eaten by the evacuation alarm.

Oops.

As soon as the alarms start going off, Terek figures that the jig is up, so to speak. No sense in trying to hide at this point. He rises up to his feet and then moves back across the dark room to the doorway where he can see the security near the base of the ship's ramp. They're going to need to make a hasty exit, so he figures he'd better clear the path for the rest of the group.

He waits, tensed like a predator ready to strike, until the security droid behind the dockmaster is out of view of the boss. The cathar breaks into a sprint, leaping across behind the dockmaster and grabbing a hold of the droid around it's head. His momentum carries him feet first over the edge of the landing platform, dragging the droid with him into the abyss of the city below.

After several moments, Terek re-appears back on the other side of the landing platform. The droid, however, is nowhere to be seen. Now he just has to get back to the ship. The chaos of the evacuation announcement should help cover that, at least.

"Oh, there's sirens." Says a voice from behind Siywa. A quiet voice with a slight lisp from the bulbous headed Repair droid wearing coveralls cut to fit it's bulky frame. "Does that mean all pretenses of the ruse are over?" The Captain is flipping switches, getting the Down and Out ready for a rapid departure, "Could you go be useful and lock down all that ill gotten cargo we definitely aren't stealing? Before anyone sees it and wants to sign their name on some unspoken contract where they take a percentage?"

"So special cargo hold?"

"The special cargohold. Get the twins to help you. Quickly, like a Kushiban."

The freighter hoists up off the dock, landing struts retracting into the underside while the loading ramp remains descended for last minute evacuation. "Are we dying?" Vekhi calls out down where he's seated in one of the pair of turrets, "You don't pay enough to die." His brother grunts in the lower turret, "Yah, I aint tryin' to get killed on Nar Shaddaa. You know what they do to corpses on this moon? They eat them.. I don't wanna get eated."

"It's ate, you dim... I don't have time for this." The ship shifts, hoping Zena uses one of the hatches on the roof to gain entrance. <<"We're about to gee tee ef oh.">> The front end rotates around, bringing the ramp to sit level with the edge of the dock in a position that, once everyone is aboard, she can bolt up and bug tf out.

Aria said no unnecessary death. That meant quantity, right? No blowing up the whole mess without evacuating, that's what she meant. She certainly didn't mean that -no one- could die. Zena peers through the viewfinder as the ship starts to power up, half grimacing and half grinning at the mess she just made.

"I still got it."

She flips the bipod up and slings the rifle back over her shoulder as she crawls to the hatch, grabbing the repair kit on her way. She pops the hatch, shifting to a sitting position before she clambers inside, pulling the hatch closed and sealing it behind her. She drops the repair kit out of the walkway, unslings her rifle to lean it somewhere close and finds a place to hole up for the trip out.

Alarm sirens, panicking, the running feet above having shaken all manner of detritus and invertebrate vermin onto him, when Hadrix's head comes up around the edge of the platform, the ship is shaking it all the more ferociously.

<<"Kriff.">>

Hand over hand the big man is pulling himself up and angling to flip himself over the railing - and he might have. Might have even done it with flare and panache if the craft rotating to prepare for liftoff didn't unintentionally put him into the jetwash.

<<"Kr-ii-ii-ff">>

<<"If you die, I'm running.">> Gripper adds helpfully as they're cast out into open space. Turning end over end, Mandalorian Iron heating up painfully in places and for a heartbeat he is gazing down into the abyss. He's still sailing away from the docking pad, struggling to right himself when his HUD flashes Flight Trajectory Inoptimal.

<<"Don't worry, I'll take you with me.">>

One hand squeezes and his jets engage, carrying the pair back towards the deck, swooping low and dragging against the deck in a shower of sparks before he hits the ramp, cutting thrusters and simply catapulting up to slam back first, upside down, in the entry corridor, a low growling groan escaping before he smashes down, landing face first.

<<"... On board...">>