Log:Bespin: Back Alley Tactics

Back Alley Tactics

OOC Date: March 4, 2025
Location: Cloud City, Bespin
Participants: Ben Relor, Sumi Kora, Zee'Roh Kora, Cadogan West, Hani Marake, Zena Tane, Draeven Rhyzakk, Cin'cirad Rook, Narsai Ordo and Hadrix Kora as GM

Like womprats in the walls, the insurgent team has been working their way through the nooks and crannies of Cloud City to avoid Imperial hunter teams. Sleeping in shifts, when they can, in parts of the city that barely even saw the attention of maintenance droids.

<<"If we plant charges beneath we have a risk of structural damage that could jeopardize civilian sectors. We could risk it, but be ready to face those consequences.">> It was clear that Hadrix was against the notion, the man had a penchant for grabbing someone by the head and breaking necks by using the vent shaft edges as a brace while he pulled.

But putting non-combatants in the line of fire was a taboo that a man with his reputation contradicted, strongly.

<<"If we burst through at these points,"> Markings on HUD and handheld mapping equipment highlighting, <<"We can form a crossfire and cover for demolitionists to position, plant and then exfiltrate. We don't want lingering. We don't want a prolonged firefight. Iviin'etyc...">> Fast and Dirty. It was maybe the thing he said most this entire excursion.

On the other side of the walls and floor sections they were nestled at, Imperial forces had been forces to arrange munitions stores that were being catalogued before they were to be moved to craft and thus away from potentially grabby hands in these 'trying times'. There were Stormtroopers in residence, nary a regular Peacekeeper to be sighted while the work progressed. Guard was high and defenses were alert.

<<"Opinions?">>

<<"Whatever gets us moving..">> grunts Sumi, who has taken the furthest back position of the team because she's lugging a weapon system that's bulky, and a pain in the ass to do anything with except carry (on the back and in hand). Drenched in sweat, she's laying on her back breathing hard, muscles aching from the effort.

Ben Relor is smoking, what else is new. Doesn't matter where he is. Also, talking kinda fast. Fidgety <<"Fast and dirty, yeah, but let's not be dumb about it. We're dealing with ordnance. If we screw the timing, we set off a chain reaction that turns this whole op into a funeral. I need at least ninety seconds clear for placement -- more if I want to be sure I don't turn into a fine mist when I walk out.">>

He leans over the map, foot tapping wildly. <<"If we place directional charges here, here, and here--">> He points at some key weak points.<<"--we can send a nice, controlled explosion straight through their lines. Turns their stockpile into their problem and buys us an easier exit. Less shooting, more running.">> That makes him grin, for some reason.

A benefit of bringing along the tiny Mandalorian is she... does not sleep. Ever. Not out of having something to prove, but because she's not human. So most of the shifts are easily covered by Human Replica Droid who can entertain herself rewriting the code to a hand held gaming console so that it steals credits in an area around wherever it's set down.

Something to keep her boundless attention.

Now at the planning phase, she crouches near the others with the information coming up on her HUD as projected by Hadrix, <"I wont argue against it, but any humans that remain are clearly combatants."> That's certainly untrue and a feeble attempt to let her kill a few civvies. They don't count to her. No human does.

As for her contributions.

<"We could have been dressed in civillian clothing, otherwise, and not huddled up in the walls like womprats."> Just one, please?

<"I'll find a data terminal and try to play havoc on their systems.">

Cadogan West had his helmet off, slouched against the dingy wall with his head at a lazy angle. "I'll say it again: if'n we lock down civvie sectors and you let me spike the air circulation, of sudden we got the Huttsuckers down with nary a shot fired, ain't we?" He'd tried to argue for chemical warfare before and been shot down, and he didn't expect a different answer this time. "Fine, fine.. I can run with shorty-" Relor, "on the charges if ye insist on doing this the old fashioned way, as it were."

A benefit of bringing along a medic, is well.. there's a medic. Hani is quietly listening to the plans, keeping track of who is going to be where and who, exactly, is the most likely to need her services soonest.

<"I am fond of less shooting."> Hani comments dryly as she watches things. <"Fewer bandaids required if they dont shoot at us.">

Zena, busy as always lugging a Too Big gun, has found a place to slump and clean the massive beast of a weapon that is the T27. She's actually disassembled the AFD and stowed it for the moment. The corridors are too narrow, there aren't really good spots for her to perch and blast. The big repeater, though? That she can work with.

Especially with the underslung grenade launcher.

<"Just tell me where to be, and I'll handle it,"> she says plainly.

Draeven moves through the cramped, dimly lit passages with the same ease he navigates anywhere. Silent, steady, predatory. He steps into the gathered group, golden eyes flicking over the holographic map, tracking the conversation as Hadrix lays out the plan. He leans against a rust-streaked bulkhead, arms crossed, his voice smooth but weighted. "Controlled blasts work, gives us the mess without making it our problem. But we still need an out. If they lock down the perimeter before we clear, we're fighting our way out of a munitions dump." His ears twitch slightly, picking up the hum of far-off patrols and the distant thud of boots.

Sira was slightly away from the group, currently watching one of the entry ways toward their meeting area. Sure, it should be secure, but it never hurts to keep an eye on things. And with the communication unites and cranking the gain on vocal levels within the helm, it lets her listen in on while keeping an eye on it. She looks over the readouts as they display along the inside of her helmet.

<<"I'd rather reduce the civilian casualties as well. Even if Zee'Roh does have a point. Of course, it's not always easy to say that they wouldn't be civilians, just because they are here.">> She adjusts the rifle on the strap over her shoulder, but one of her pistols is already drawn just in case. The rifle was a little cumbersome in these tight confines. <<"Controlled blasts could work, but if we're hitting the munitions dump, what would be the expected fall-off of the explosion and the collateral?">>

<<"Most of the civilians in the city don't have a choice, they're surviving. Many more have watched regime changes in the past decades and just duck their heads to continue their work. We don't hurt them, Zee...">> The big man's growl rumbling in his voice while he checks his own gear by touch, reflexively. Hunkering and looking like he's been packed into a transparent package, ready for shipping, like some armor plated plush toy for someone's lifeday gift.

<<"So far they've kept their gear to purely to zones they keep separate from the rest of the population. But if the explosion is big enough we may see some bumps and bruises in the non-combatants. I'd prefer not.">> Hadrix's tone serious, if softened now.

<<"From the duct-work Ben and I have been doing, we can slip back into the support passages, I had him planting cutting charges, we can get into the superstructure and worm our way down, then up. Head for the comm towers where the atmosphere is thinner. Or we move down, where it's more toxic. Or we disburse and try not to get killed before we touch at one of the rendevouz sights.">> Another grunt that screams 'Space I'm getting old' rumbling from his chest, the Al'Verde Kora grunts.

<<"Best plan is no plan, for exit. Even if it means we're jumping out of holes in the outer hull and counting on those of us with sen'traiie">> Jetpacks <<"To catch them and find a hole to scramble back into.">>

His head ticks, as if to look at each of them, a cursory gesture for the cramped quarters.

Sumi gives a thumbs up from where she's laying. She rarely had any tactical input aside from 'GET EM'.

"Hey, whatever gets the job done with the least fight. Knock-out levels of gas, not lethal, could work -- saves us a whole lot of shooting. And if you're worried about civvies, Hadrix? Seal off their sections first. Set the vents to run purge cycles before we hit. Doesn't have to spread. We control the flow. No one has to get hurt who doesn't need to."

On the other hand... boy, does he like blowing things up.

"'Course, I'm totally fine with controlled blasts. More than fine." Ben squints over at Sira, looking a little impatient for a moment. "All depends on placement. If we shape the charges right, we get a controlled directional blast -- turn their stockpile into their own funeral pyre without making the whole sector into shrapnel rain. Worst case? We miscalculate, and it cascades. Big boom, bad day. But if I set it, it'll blow them to hell, not us."

He takes a drag before flicking the cigarette away, and for some reason, he's grinning again. "You want a precise answer, I need time to map it. You want fast and dirty, I say we take the shot."

Then Hadrix lays out the exit plan -- or lack of one -- and Ben's grin falters for half a second before snapping back into place.

"Great, so the exit plan is 'hope we don't die.' Love that." He stretches, rolling his neck, "I don't have a jetpack, by the way, so if we're going the 'count on someone to catch me' route? I call dibs on not West. I like my bones intact."

He huffs out a breath, then shrugs. "Fine. We hit fast, hit smart, then scatter. Guess I'll just make sure the blast goes exactly where I want it -- so we don't have to waste extra time running from our own mess."

The best plan is no plan. "Easy to remember, ain't it?" Cadogan sniffed with a wry curl to his lip. The crude skull he'd painted over half his face had largely been sweat off by then, but smudges of black still darkened his eye socket, and streaked his pale face. When Relor answered Sira, he added on the other bomber's heels, "Take the shot, let's do it. Nobody ever rough-rekked an Empire by *planning* forever."

<"Just a thought."> Zee says of accidentally forgetting there are civilians. She wasn't brought along for strong motherly instincts or desire to protect humanity from the unfortunate realities of war, but if the ROA says no non-comm casualties, that'll be what it is.

It would be a great deal easier if they weren't tip toeing around them, however.

<"If we can isolate the civilians away from the main a.o.e., I will lock down all the doors leading in and out of the area with vent scrubbers to keep any toxic gases from spreading."> That's a thought, she even nods to Ben in agreement. <"Once the shooting starts, I'll start working on securing an exit strategy. Create a nice funnel system to lead the team towards controlled locations where we can set up choke points and secure fall backs."> Her helmet swivels, face to face, then ends with a shrug.

<"Or we can half ass it. It's worked so far.">

<"I would also prefer not to injure any non-combatants we dont have to. Isolating them would be ideal."> Hani agrees into the mix. <"I technically now have sen'traiie, but I've literally never practiced with it, full disclosure. Do not rely on me for catching people.">

Hani glances around at the group, many of whom she's not worked with before directly. <"If you need the medic, yell. Usually it's obvious who is going to be my bestie for these experiences, but do not be shy in getting my attention to come patch you up. It is easier for you to leave under your own steam, than for soemone to have to carry you later.">

<"Choke points or half-assing. I'm in for whatever,"> Zena replies, finishing the cleaning routine on the, honestly, comically large blaster rifle. Well, it's funny in her hands, given her stature.

Why are half of the Mandalorian women so -short-?

She thumbs the toggle on the rifle, cycling it from single shot, to burst, and finally to the grenade launcher. Which she proceeds to load before thumbing it back to burst mode. <"Heh heh heh. Got a present for these imps.">

Draeven remains leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, gaze steady as the discussion shifts between civilians, blast containment, and exit plans, or the lack of one. He doesn't interrupt or try to add any more to the debate. He just listens.

<"Keeping civillian casualties to a minimum is a must, for cause and...well, locals are a lot less likely to point your foes in your direction if you've kept them safe,"> Narsai speaks up, the Ordo Alor herself had regarded the discussion in silence, trusting perhaps the other senior Mandalorian warriors of the group like Sumi, Hadrix and others she'd fought with many a time. Either that, or she was willing to see what the newer warriors will come up with. Deep green eyes behind her T-visor, she turned her helmet towards Hani at that comment, a little tilt of her helmet. <"If someone goes down? You tend to them, I'll keep you safe. Noone's getting cut down or left behind today.">

Not exactly a hulking figure to hide behind, but she seemed confident enough in the declaration as she looked back up to Hadrix. <"Well Cyare'vod? What's the play?">

<"Hrm."> Sira intones, her head tilting a bit to the side as her mouth pulls off to the side within the helmet. Considering how she might approach the whole situation. She gives a bit of a squint then looking over the layout. <<"I think that's a thought. Zee'Roh reroutes the vents and locks down the exits to create a funnel, we release gas to knock out some of them. Demo sets shaped charges to keep the damage under control. Sumi sets up at the main thoroughfare with Hani and one other combatant. If Zena, if you still got that rifle from last time, you can set up in a position to flank that exit and keep an eye on the side exit. The rest on a quick force in case we need to lock down any others exits but otherwise cover the main exit.">>

<<"That about sum up the plan for the attack?">> She looks once more over the maps on her augmented reality display.

A soundless snap-point is aimed towards Cado before he motions to a 'Mouse Port' nearby, <<"Civilians shouldn't be in here to begin with. But regarding exit strategy, if you can work your sorcery...">>

Hadrix trails off, clearly confident in Zee'Roh's capabilities. Shifting how he crouches and nodding towards... well nothing. But then he had given marks for entry on HUDs already.

Within the work area, a smaller tibanna container transfer station converted to Imperial needs, more stormtroopers move. Droids moving crates of equipment making for specific points. Troopers continue their work, silence reigning besides the thud of droid feet, the clack of armored boots and the sounds of equipment containers being moved.

<<"Pick your entry point, kick it in, keep Cadogan and Ben clear. Let them work." Head tilting to motion towards Hani, <<"Nobody touches Doc.">> Shifting and shimmying through the tighter confines towards one of the entry points. <<"Once Cado and Ben have both hit the deck, we have one hundred and eighty seconds. Ninety of that is time for them to get their charges. The other ninety is getting clear and out. Zee, if the venting works, do it.">

A turn of the crimson point in his visor towards Narsai, <<"Be wary of the hooboojooboo, Cyar'ika... otherwise we may get more here and soon.">> Another turn towards the small warrior with the big, rekking, gun. <<"Sumi'alor. Hettir'iisa">> Light the fuse.

That was all Sumi needed to hear, and following Hadrix's pinpointed entry areas, Sumi weasles her way out and lands on both feet. It takes a moment to don the large pack, but when the laser cannon is in hand, its energy track fed into the side, she primes it with a high-pitched whining noise, syncs it with her helm, and steps out into the open.

<"HEY!"> She calls out to a patrol of troopers in white. The weapon spools, and before they can get 'BLAST HER' from their helmet emitters, Sumi's frame is illuminated by the constant glow of red as a base of automatic fire is established. Of the patrol that try to evade, she dissects two of them, blasting them to bits while advancing.

<"AAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"> It's not clear if she's laughing, or just inspired by all the laser fire!

"Okay, roger that. Let's all try not to die today, huh?" Ben laughs in a slightly cracked way, then slams the BOMBERMAN helmet down over his face. <"Helmets are so karking suffocating..."> Relor no like being confined. While Sumi does her...Sumi thing, Ben nods at Cadogan. <"C'mon, let's go be gods among men or some shavit like that."> One can practically hear the grin in his voice as he takes off into a full sprint, pack jangling away on his back. There's a lot of stuff in there, but Ben manages to make it over to the tibanna transfer units without dropping anything along the way or on himself. He bends over for a moment, breathing hard in his suit, wheezing a bit. Kid should really cut back on the smoking. Too bad he left Five above ground; someone would scold him for sure.

With marching orders given, Zee'Roh is done talking.

There's the MSE port Haddie points out for her, where she settles in with her wrist computer opened on the inside of her left forearm. This is where size matters because there's not a lot of space. Those little cubbies are designed for MSE droids, afterall.

A long cord extends out from the side of her computer panel and slots into the jacket, linking her to the systems, and immediately starts feeding information. With her dark eyes shifting side to side reading the code in realtime, rather than letting the device do it for her. Another benefit of her being a droid is bypassing the necessary data analysizer equipment necessary for reading information. Zee doesn't need it. It cuts down half the run time on any programs or slicing she does.

<<"I'm in their systems.">>

It may as well be a record, seriously.

<<"Looking for access p- found'em. I am now Bespin. Behold my power.">>

As they start to move in, Hani, or 'Doc' as she's been labelled, moves in as well. She's keeping to largely behind things, trying to keep a vague eye on where everyone is and where they are going. It is easier to find people later when there's some clue on where you last left them.

People havne't yet started getting hit with anything more than good ideas (or questionable choices), so she levels her M-434 at one of the baddies and shoots. The hit knocks him out of the way of her second shot, but he certainly felt that.

Cadogan West moves out with a grooked grin that is lost to sight when his helmet is drawn on and sealed with an airlocked clunk. Hefting the charges, he keeps a heavy pistol holstered at one side and brings a grenade into his left hand. When they start moving, he moves fast, starting to rear back for a throw, but opting on te fly to just keep moving.

Draeven moves through the smoke and chaos effortlessly, tracking the wounded stormtrooper Hani clipped and Zena tried to erase. The trooper stumbles, armor scorched and rattled, scrambling to regain his footing, just long enough for the shistavanen to act. His rifle comes up, smooth and fast, two shots snapping off in succession.

The first goes wide, a sharp blast of red streaking past into the haze, but the second finds its mark. The trooper jerks back as the bolt punches through his chest plate, sending him crumpling to the floor. No celebration, no wasted motion. He's already moving back into cover, his gaze sweeping the battlefield as the fight churns on.

Smooth shots, solid and heavy ring out as Narsai joined the fray. Rather than racing into close combat she moved with the firing line of the other Mandalorians. Wrapped in her own black and red Beskar'gam, the young woman's shots were aimed past the white and shiny Stormtroopers the others were keeping down, her W-35 slamming one shot into the chest and then another into the head of one of the elite Sithtroopers, ending him in a swift moment.

Sira makes her way to the nearby access hatch she had been watching, a little bit to the side of where everyone else is entering in. Knocking the panel out, she pulls herself out into the warehouse-like area just in time to hear the whir and stacatto beat of Sumi's fire. The explosion of a grenade, the fire of yet more blasters all down range toward them. A peek around the corner of her current set of shelves she's behind she spots a likely position she can move into to start flanking the troopers.

<"Moving!"> Sira starts running, keeping out of the line of the main attack as she makes a dead out sprint toward a set of crates. Coming into a bit of a slide, she catches herself and moves back up into a crouch, hitting a bit harder into the crates with a bit of a grunt. It threw off her motion just enough that she had to get her feet back under her. Leaning around the edge, in a crouch, pistol held a bit more at and angle and her head to match, she sights in on the trooper that Zena had shot a grenade at.

With a crack she takes her first shot at the trooper as he's standing back up, only injuring him.

As Sumi opens fire, Zena follows along, thumbing the toggle over to 'Grenade' on her rifle. She racks the slide, takes vague aim and fires. The -thoompp- is heavy and dull as the canister launches across the room at the Stormtroopers Hani shot at.

Too bad her aim's off a bit.

The grenade hits the ground and explodes in a concussive blast, sending one of the armored troopers flying, but he's still moving! <"Rakkin...,"> she mutters, flipping the toggle to burst again and ducking behind some cover.

The assault cannon starting things up causes an immediate shift in behavior. Some might freeze, some might panic. But for all the flak tossed their way the elite soldiers of Empires past and present are already drawing, or raising, blasters and trying to draw a bead on the assailant even as two are blasted down under the deluge of automatic fire.

The sudden onset of attacks from other directions causing fractional pauses, with silence save for the roar of blasters as troopers make for cover, no gestures, no external vocalizations. Fire teams forming and their attention focused on the immediate threat that serves its purpose to keep Cadogan and Ben furthest from their thoughts.

Among the chaos, dropping from a wall panel, Hadrix joins to engage the plasma flamer he has chosen for this excursion, liquified fire coiling through the air to drape, almost elegantly, over one of the troopers. Allowing a moment of confusion before the armorplast of their suit suddenly begins to melt even while it ignites. Sending the Imperial to the ground to roll and try to put out the flames.

The return fire sweeping, intent on cutting off ability to find cover, or to flush and hound in the case of some, shrieking PWANGS of richochet coming from the big man as his head is rocked back by one of the impacts on his Iron.

How much time since the fracas began? Ten seconds? Fifteen?

The Imperial soldiers begin to circle in their fire teams, recognizing their disadvantage in the entry points from the attackers, some kneeling and others remaining standing to give clear firing lanes.

Sumi barks out at hearing Sira's 'MOVING', <"HEARD!"> Then adjusts fire just as she takes a bolt across the shoulder that created a dull 'PWANG' noise of the beskar ringing like a bell. She responds in kind to the Sithtroopers responsible for shooting at her, gunning one down and injuring another. The fire is continuous, a cyclic rate, and she keeps the pressure on in hopes of them making a mistake.

Chaos is all around them, but Ben and Cad have a job to do. Over near the tibanna transfer units, breath quick, finally gets it back, hands already moving as he slaps a charge against the support strut between the munitions and the troopers. The placement is everything -- angled just right so when it blows, it'll push inward, slamming the enemy deeper into the kill box. Not too big. Not too small. Just enough to make sure they don't get a clean way out.

He exhales, fingers twitching as he presses the primer, locking the charge into place. Steady. A slight shudder passes through his limbs -- fatigue, maybe, or the creeping edge of a crash he doesn't have time for yet. Doesn't matter. He grins to himself like he's got a secret and taps his comm. <<"First charge is live. Funneling 'em in.">> He lingers just half a second too long, eyes flicking across the next target, his brain already racing ahead of his body. He needs to move, needs to keep going -- but there's a split-second where his legs don't listen.

Then he shakes it off and slips back into the shadows, pulse hammering, waiting for the next opening.

<"These systems are ancient.">

The sounds of combat beyond where Zee'Roh is crouched down in the cover of shadowplates, linked into Bespin through the wire on her wrist computer, says unto herself. <"They haven't been updated in over a decade... some of them are clone war tech."> Which makes her job a great deal easier, with a repository of old codes that she's drawing up and redirecting power away from certain systems to others. <"I'm going to offer to update them when we're done... this is almost not even fun."> Because a slicer who's not talking drek isn't doing their job right.

Suffice that her antics are seeing a dramatic effect. Primarily in shunting civilians away from the chaos, which was her prime directive in all of this. Assure limited casualties of non-comms. They're being directed towards secure locations away from the munitions depot, but she's just not satisfied with that.

No, not at all.

<<"What do we have here...">> That's never a good thing to hear Zee'Roh say. From experience it almost always means she's about to do something insane, like vent all the oxygen... alas, not this time. No. Instead she plugs directly into the stations fire suppression system and starts changing the parameters for engagement. Any trooper already on fire isn't going to be aided by the systems built in suppression system, but those who aren't yet? Well... the foam is spraying all over them, with a torrential downpour that make optics a nightmare as the swelling foam bath coats their helmets, creates a slick surface beneath their firing lines, and generally makes an already chaotic situation even more so.

With return fire coming in, Hani's time to pretend like she shoots real good is done and she's moving behind crates and around and about to get over to where Sira is. Pistol away, and instead she's pulling out her scanner in one hand, and what looks like a spray of some sort in the other.

<"I'm coming up behind you, Sira."> Hani warns, scanning as she gets closer. <"This should take a bit of the sting out of that shot in your arm until we can look at it more later."> This isn't so much /fixing/ the problem as making it not a Right Now problem, and a later problem.

Draeven shifts, keeping low and fluid as the battlefield churns around him, the firefight escalating into pure chaos. His gaze tracks the stormtroopers still standing, but his attention flickers to the foam suddenly flooding the room. The troopers caught in the mess struggle, their movements sluggish, their helmets coated in the thick, vision-obscuring suppression foam. He lines up another shot, but just as he squeezes the trigger, one of the troopers stumbles, their slick footing throwing off his aim. The bolt snaps past into the haze, but the next one finds its mark, slamming into white armor. He doesn't wait to admire his work as he's already shifting positions, moving to another point of cover.

Zena, behind the cover, flips the toggle on her rifle. The capacitor whirrs as the blaster spools up. "Maybe it'll work better this time," she mutters to herself as she ducks out on one knee. She lifts the huge repeater and takes aim at the Stormtrooper wounded by Hani. Three bolts fire in a staccato triple BLAAT sound, punching through the wounded man's armor in three spots and, well, ruining his last day breathing.

The petite Mando ducks back into cover, letting the barrel cool before she pops out to do it again.

The blaster took Sira pretty solidly in the arm, and she let out a grunt of noise, the adrenaline a bit too high for her to worry about it right now - and the Stormtroopers were close after all. Swapping the pistol to her left hand without missing a missing a beat, <<"Hit. Hani.">> The call brief and to the point as she leans back out from behind her cover to again shoot - this time with her left - at the Stormtroopers nearby.

Sira swivels her head a bit to the side so she can see Hani with the Augmented reality and confirm it's her. <"Thanks. Can you put a Hello Tooka bandaid on it? I prefer them over the My Little Bantha."> She leans her head back out from behind cover once again, looking as she feels the pain spike in her arm at the application, then fade. Barely taking the time to register it.

Leaning out again from behind the crate she's using as cover, she takes another couple shots at the Stormtroopers. The shots going a bit wide as the foam started pouring down on them. <"I'm guessing we have our resident hacker to thank for that one."> She lets out a chuckle, ducking back behind the crate as she turns to look at Hani again. <"Eventful, am I right?">

A shot her way is easily evaded, every step purposeful, approaching the enemy forces even as they begin to return fire. It wasn't her first time dancing in a field of blaster bolts, but one single twist to avoid her own incoming bolt turns the Ordo Alor just enough to watch Hadrix's helmet jerk back from the direct hit against the 'bucket'.

It -should- hold, after all she had absolute confidence in the craftsmanship and the metal itself...but the one who shot him?

Narsai's head snaps towards the shooter, one single bolt returning the favor and proving the Sith trooper's helmet wasn't quite so solid...and then swiftly repeating the shot on the man next to him.

<<"Hadrix? What did I say about remembering to duck?">>

A first charge set, a second. He struggled a bit with the third, before placing it with what Cadogan humbly considered his best blast angle, yet. <<"West, I'm set! Moving.">> he reported into the comms before hustling on to the next point.

Sumi's target tracker is being constantly updated thanks to the feeds from those connected to her armor's network, or those from her clan. So when she shifts fire, it's to quietly comply with the shift of tactics. She may not have been the architect of amazing strategies, but Sumi was honed from childhood to follow orders and adjust on the fly. She had been a soldier longer than most had been alive, a fact her knees were always eager to remind her.

It happens that the new target data was a black armored command trooper. They were closing in, but when Sumi's targeting device picked up on their approach, she gunned them down in an instant, blasting apart their plasteel and various armor plating. They hit the deck like a sack of hardened duracrete powder, and the onslaught continues; Sumi maintains her position awaiting the order to move.

Ben's feet barely hit the ground before he's moving again, weaving through the crate stacks with too much speed, too much momentum. <"West, let's move! C'mon c'mon c'mon!"> Not like Cadogan has to listen to him at all if he doesn't want to. Relor lands at the first placement point, slamming a charge against the reinforcement strut that's holding up part of the munitions stack. This one falls, they lose their best cover. The adhesive sticks, the primer hums -- one down.

He pushes forward, legs burning, nearly losing his balance for half a second. His second charge goes near the main funnel point, angled to collapse a side path and keep the Imps where they belong -- trapped, panicked, blind. His hands are shaking now, but the last charge? That one gets a fraction of extra attention. A munitions stack, set to detonate in a delayed stagger -- a secondary kick to the teeth after the first wave of explosions.

Breathing ragged, Ben taps his comm as he shoves off from his final point, voice still sharp, but stretched thin. "Final charges live. We're locked. Give the word and we light 'em up."

Then he's running again, cutting toward cover -- pulse hammering, lungs burning, pushing himself further still, while the chaos continues to reign all around him. But it may as well not even exist when he's in his little demo-world.

<"Seriously, whoever wrote some of this code needs a role model.">

Now, some of that is bravado, but Zee'Roh has been slicing for one group or another since the First Civil War. The convergence of so much talent in such an ill-suited system really shines when she starts focusing her attention. Which is to say, brute forcing any attempt to boot her from said system. She will make it do as she commands, and when it doesn't do so because the subroutines were designed for that, she changes those subroutines.

<"Ugh. Taking all the sport out of it...">

<<"Got a few fun surprises set up down the western corridor. Doors should be opening -... now...">> The extraction path is pretty clear. She even turns on some runner lights that blink to the rythme of Jabba Flow.

Because why not?

<<"It's gonna be a gas... not literally... actually literally.. I'm going to vent some of the carbon emissions back into the corridors behind you. Take that you scum sucking nerf boners.">>

Sure there were explosions, smoke, foam, blaster bolts, and all other sort of chaos streaking back and forth like a solid tapestry of insanity, but for Cadogan West this was the easiest run he'd had in a long, long time. Running lights blinking in rhythm, screams anf yelps all around. The biggest risk was that some errant shot would hit him by accident, and while he did duck with a daring chuckle when one bolt scorched the load-bearing pillar near his head by just such a random chance, not one trooper had aimed at him yet. <<"Ye lot really know how t'throw a party, yeah? All charges placed, on me way out.">>

The unending chaos really does feel like a normal day at the office. There is no OSHA on Bespin, that's for certain. This floor is certainly not safe for a workplace. Which is fairly obvious, it's full of explosives, blaster fire, grenades and Mandos.

Hani slip slides her way over towards the exit, in theory quickly, but in reality more at a skittery pace that leaves her by the door. The medic draws her pistol again, to get off soem covering fire, and adds some wounding and more chaos to the OSHA violations.

Draeven moves like a shadow cutting through the chaos, boots skimming over the slick surface of the foam-slicked floor. The suppression system's mess has turned the battlefield into a hazardous maze of bodies, wreckage, and blaster fire. He doesn't slow. There's no time. He pushes forward, dodging a wild spray of bolts, his gaze locking onto the exit now flashing with runner lights.

His breath stays steady, measured, even as adrenaline coils through him, muscles burning with the sprint. Blaster fire snaps past, too close, too wild, too much. He skids low, nearly dropping to all fours as he dodges a near miss, using the forward momentum to propel himself back up into a full sprint.

It feels like it's just about time to go. Zena flips the toggle on her gun again to the grenade launcher, loading it from her pouch. She draws a deep breath and darts towards an exit. She pivots as she runs, pulling the trigger. With another dull THOOMP, a grenade launches from the tube, sailing through the air and bursting in a group of Stormtroopers.

The bad news is that the fire suppressant foam has made the floor slick. So slick that her pivot becomes a slow, complete turn, her momentum carrying her along towards the exit!

Okay, it's not so much bad news as it is funny.

As Sira feels, more than sees, Hani turn and head toward the escape route that Zee'Roh has been kind enough to open up for them... even if she doesn't much /care/ for Jabba Flow, tyvm. <<"Moving.">> Sira calls as she makes her way. She gives a quick look back toward the Stormtroopers back behind them as the grenade explodes and knocks over a number of them in a bad way. She steps, half-slips, and keeps moving as she stops behind one of the Shelving units holding all the crates.

<<"Covering.">> She takes a shot with a quick check behind her to make sure that Hani is still moving, before moving back again as well.

<<"Moving.">> Bounding toward the door while Hani lays down fire. Of course, that's not to say she's the only one, just the one that she clearly can identify. The sound of a flamethrower, another couple blasters, and of course that rhythmic sound of Sumi's weapon all telling her that there is definitely a few people still shooting.

It might seem a little unintuitive given the fire suppressent, but well..there was something primal about having a giant stream of flaming napalm launching down into one's face. As others start to fall backwards, Narsai seems to linger, sweeping her gauntleted arm to spread the wave of fire intended to halt the troopers' pursuit.

Especially one trooper in particular. They can't really chase you if they're on fire after all!

<<"Ba'slan shev'la!">> Strategic disappearance.

Shifting to stand shoulder to shoulder, at least in a manner of phrasing, with Narsai; Hadrix continues to spray plasma into the stormtroopers that attempt to get beads on the attackers of this lightning strike. Blasterfire filling the air to chase after them. The combination of suppressant and flames providing a screen to further degrade accuracy.

Stormtroopers attempt to begin firing by rank, choosing to blindfire in the hopes of accuracy by volume where visuals are rendered null.

Alarms begin blaring, signaled elsewhere and likely due to trooper comms than anything else with Zee'Roh playing havoc in the systems themselves. Blast doors opened to provide exit for the guerillas and a chancce to fade while surprise and circumstance are still in their favor.

<<"Exfiltrate, disburse, meet an rendezvous.">>

The order going out over comms, to keep from audial interception.

Covering the escape, Sumi remains in the presence of harm, cutting down another pair of troopers as they advanced. Her continued suppressing fire was hopefully enough to allow the others to reach their escape. She slowly backed toward the exit. Her weapon was nearing its last bit of energy though, so with any luck she'd click dry right as she needed to go! <<"Let me know when!">> She called out, not even bothering to look over her shoulder.

<"Yeah, copy that!"> Ben lets out a wild trill of laughter into his comm, running like hell as the alarms scream, the troopers blind-fire, and then -- there's a flash of white in all that chaos as unlucky trooper crosses his path. Relor doesn't think. No time for that. He grins, raises his blaster, and fires twice: one to center mass, one to finish the job. The trooper crumples dead before he even hits the floor, and Ben laughs again. Nothing like shooting an Imp dead to make his day.

Then, he remembers to move. He pushes forward, shoulder knocking against a crate as he pivots hard, riding the rush as he bolts towards the exit. Beneath his helmet, he's still grinning like he just won something. Another swoop race, maybe?

oors opening and closing for the exfil. Until, with the last of the team headed down the corridors, it's time to go.

Zee'Roh's exfil is a lot easier because she can go where most sentients can't. Toxins don't bother her, even without her armor. Poisons aren't a problem... simple things like exhaustion, minor inconveniences. Which is why, after disconnecting from the MSE dataport and closing up shop, the tiny Mandalorian rolls up to her feet and dives into a maintenance shaft that leads... well it leads somewhere for sure. into the walls, absolutely, but around the arse to get to the elbow.

A detour that no sane person would follow because most couldn't even if they wanted to.

There's a whole lot of 'and now it is time to go' in progress, and the medic is operating on the theory that if she's out somewhere safe (ish) than if anyone gets shot (or sprains an ankle in the damn foam), Hani is ready for them.

Which means she is not leaving any parting gifts, she's just leaving.

Cadogan West is cackling to himself through smiling teeth as the Tionese bomber runs for their exfil point. This time he spares the half step to blindly hurl a live grenade at the cluster of brightest incoming blasterfire, stupidly throwing up insolent fists at the smoke obscured troopers before completing his dash to safety.

What's an insurgent action without a bit of stupidity?

Zena, after her last grenade, swings the rifle over her shoulder, locking it on a slant to her back as she slides off and away through the foam, like the heels of her boots had little wheels on them. Either way, she zips through a door, wheeling around the corner, and her boots finally get traction.

That's when she really starts to run. She no longer needs to be here!

Draeven doesn't waste time, no parting shots, no lingering to admire the chaos. The plan was set, the charges primed, and now it was just a matter of getting clear before everything went up. He moves fast, weaving through the haze of smoke and suppressing foam, his eyes locked on the flashing runner lights marking their escape route.

A blaster bolt snaps too close, but he doesn't flinch, just pushes forward, slipping through the exit without looking back. The moment he's clear, he exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders as the adrenaline hum lingers beneath his skin.

Sira sets up at the door to the corridor, still holding the pistol in her left hand, doing her best to use it as cover. <<"Covering.">> She says simply, partly in response to Sumi, but also to any of the others that might be still escaping. Finally seeming to find her groove, she lines up the pistol on the first Stormtrooper that she sees from her angle. Dropping two shots into him before shifting to a second target.

Sira shifts to speaking Mando'a instead as she adds, <<"Time to go, oh ye of the massive blaster. I'm holding the door open for you.">> A third shot right to the buy'ce that drops that second target. As she's doing her best to lay down covering fire for the last few heading for the exit. She spares a glance behind her to make sure that the others were on the way.

A rush of motion, jetpack fuel burning far more understated than the wash from the flamethrower...but it sends her upwards and outwards, Narsai's petite form twisting and swooping through the air even with the narrow corridors while her blaster pistol sends out a heavy shot or two as one last discouragement.

<<Bar's closed Cyare Vod!>> she calls as they shoot their way out.

With blaster fire chasing them to the doors opened by Zee'Roh, the charges set by Cadogan and Ben continue to sit where placed. Expertly one might add. No blinking lights. No Tones. Timers to show a countdown. If they had droid brains they'd be extraordinarily proud of what they were going to be doing.

Even if what they were doing wasn't very nice.

<<"Sumi'alor, ba'slanar">> The big man rapping knuckles on her pauldron as he blazes past on wings of fire and trailing iridescent plasma in his wake that serves more to provide additional visual screen. And a draw of attention in Hadrix's direction.

Fire concentrates as the group is forced to gather for the exit, another trooper in black armor in the ranks and pointing with a knife-hand chop. Blasterfire intensifying until sound is replaced by a 'WHOOMP'. The concussion enough to shove those just inside the door, potentially even throwing them down.

For those who were further along, it is not unlike moving with one's back to the ocean when a wave comes to shove the victim of the water's ire along. Threatening to upend them if they lost track of their footing. The normal lighting of Bespin flickering and then blending with the crimson and pink flare of tibanna going off. Shape charges keeping much of the destruction funneled inward, to cause more damage to the munitions and not chase after the insurgents.

Sympathetic detonations send concussions after, but to a lesser degree than what a raw, unchanneled, explosion would have. Cloud City rocks and more alarms join the din.

Another good run, and either signs of luck shifting or professionalism winning through. But somewhere, someone is getting upset and will be feeling additional pressure weighing down on them.