Log:Rebels: Swamp Walk
Wraith Squadron retrieves Jessika from an Ottegan swamp
OOC Date: January 10, 2025
Location: Ottega
Participants: Ben Relor, Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron and Hadrix Kora as GM
Ithorians were zealous about one thing in the galaxy. The Sanctity of The Great Mother. Of all the seventy and more worlds of the Ottega system they protected nothing with more ferocity than the surface of their world. Thousands of years ago the entire species took to the skies of their world. Developed the great Herd Ships and formidable weapons to enforce their demands that once a living being set foot on their world, they never leave.
Spacecraft hulks and wreckage claimed by the jungles, plains and temperate forests littered the planet. Rusting, decayed, covered in vines and sinking into the soil. Where the former cities of ithor once stood now hillocks of reclaimed stone and metal.
The Empire had set foot upon Ithor and the people were furious, made impotent by the Empresses weapons. Plunged into rebellion for the lack of respect for their ways. Jessika Pava had been shot down here, she was intended by the Herds to be made to stay, to live or die the same as the Imperial forces that the terrible weapons of the Herdships intended to keep on the surface as well.
Avoiding interest until absolutely necessary, so when the Mandalorian blockade runner was traveling under the guise of a nature observation craft the belly of the ship and its bomb bay doors were a stage for... ny'lonar. Strike Insertion.
"If you don't know how to use a pack, hold close to me, I'll get you down. The drop packs are one way, to keep you from dying on impact. When we have General Pava, we'll signal and the ship will come back for retrieval. Questions?" Al'Verde Kora stood while others in heavy mandalorian armor were prepping gear, thumbs up being given by a pair of young women with reddish brown hair that looked curiously familial to the big man. Twins even.
It has been several days now since Jessika's x-wing went down, crash landing in one of the jungles of Ithor. Several still since she sent up the distress signal that alert the Rebellion that she hadn't died on impact, but also the Ithorians. So not only is she having to avoid Imperials, but also Ithorians, whom would very much like to get her to sign some contract that she intends to live out the rest of her days on the planets surface.
There probably isn't really a contract, but...
She's not going to stick around to find out either.
Thankfully, Resistance and Rebellion training included some survival skills. Enough medical supplies in her x-wing to bind up a few scraps and one very broken ankle. Which was definitely not making the mobility of her situation any easier.
After removing the transponder from her fighter, she's been using it infrequently, but on regular intervals so that any rescue operations have a clear signal to follow to her general location.
Headed towards high ground, out of the swamp.
Which is a tall order because this place is mostly swamp.
"Yeah." Ben Relor raises a hand as he squints at Hadrix, taking one last drag off his cigarette before crushing it out on the heel of his boot. "How do I get down without turning into a panna cake?" That must be his way of saying no, he hasn't done this before (unless you count that time last night where he took a ride on Air Dailo Fett). He has a pair of goggles perched up on his cadet pack, and his jacket, belt, and many pockets are loaded with charges just in case he needs to set any and he's not near any crates. No doubt he's hoping he'll get a chance.
His battered R5 astromech droid with the sloppy custom paint job, Five, chirps questioningly at him. "I think you're gonna have to stay here, buddy," Ben tells the droid with a smile, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He definitely treats his droid more like a friend or maybe a useful pet than a droid.
<"Simple."> A humming buzz coming when a line of what looks like woven duranium cable is pulled from what appears to be a grapnel line winch mounted to one of the hips of his armor plate. Unceremoniously made to wrap around the smaller man, cinching up and engaging a maglock carabiner. <"Don't unhook this until we hit the ground.">
Helmed head inclining slightly before one of the twins steps up, jerking her head towards the bomb bay doors where an ithorian in beskar'gam stands, Pheegus. The stump like feet clad in armored boots planted and a control being tapped at. <"We're nearing the last trace of the transponder signal. Get to drop position, Al'Verde.">
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Below, in the swamps, the stinking heat swelters and the sucking mud grabs at boots and flightsuit. The calls of avians nearby signals something causing disturbance to their day to day lives. Shapes in the underbrush, green and brown shadows that could be more of the wildlife. Perhaps something else.
Above further ruckus sends creatures scurrying, the smoke gray painted shape of an old VCX-350 screaming towards Jessika's last signal trace at high speed.
Because it's observing nature. It totally hasn't been modified to outrun even some interceptor class fighters.
********************************************
Hadrix nodded to Poe as the elder got into position, taking note of the belt. 'Dragging' Ben with him to get onto the drop panel before looking to the other of the twins, <"Ready, Tep."> Earning a nod from the other before she steps on a pressure plate and the floor drops away.
The ship had decelerated enough for the wind not to simply smash them against the hatchway, cast into the heat of the jungle sky. Freefalling.
"Oh grea-" Jessika is startled by the sound of her own voice. It'd been almost two full days since she'd spoken out loud. Not since she'd left the wreckage behind when an Imperial patrol had come through looking for the pilot of the fighter. Ailee, oh poor sweet Ailee, dutiful, loyal, Ailee. We'll get back to that.
Her boot sucks down to the knee in mud. Ankle wrapped tight to give a little support against the hairline fracture from the sudden stop after an atmospheric 'controlled chao' landing. A lesser pilot would absolutely be dead. That's what Jess is telling herself as she cuts her way through brush with a bush-knife.
The pack of supplies, what little remains since these things weren't designed for weeks of survival, hangs tight to her back. She yanks her foot up, using some dangling vegetation to add more pressure. Enough to free her foot and send a shock of intense pain up the back of her leg when jostling around her injured foot. "Son of a bi-" BEEP BOOP BEEEP.
Ailee is having a hard time with the swamp.
"These trees are too thick to get a signal out." Said to the droid, "Find me a clearing or... something." BEEP BOOP. Jess drops down to rub her ankle, grinding her teeth. "Because you're the navigator, that's why."
Ben eyes up Poe with a wary sort of interest. "Five can keep BB-8 company," he ventures. The young demolitionist has a complicated relationship with the galaxy's living history figures, not like that would matter to any of them, and a far simpler relationship with authority: he doesn't respect it as a general rule. Despite that, though, he seems to be on good behavior for the moment, playing the good little soldier. Probably because they have a mission to carry through.
He puts the goggles down over his eyes, gritting his teeth as he's wrapped up like a present. "I'm not a big fan of having the ground pulled out from under me, so let's get this over with." Once they actually /do/ get it over with, he seems to be doing his best not to yell all the way down. This is a serious, serious challenge for someone with as big a mouth as Relor.
"He'll like that," Poe says to Ben, nodding.
When the time comes to jump, there is no hesitation from Dameron. He followed the others, taking up a limp-jog before diving out. In freefall, the wind was a lot to contend with in regards to hearing. Poe fixed his headset in place, as it moved when he hit that higher velocity. Arms went wide and he relaxed, following the others as the moved for the landing zone.
Out of the corner of Jessika's eye there is movement in the the overgrowth between the trees. Not one of the massive simians or even the mobile flora creatures that prowl. Figures hunting, moving in a partial crouch with weapons held at low ready.
Not quite catching sight of her yet, by their movements. But it may be just a matter of time.
Above, the trio that are quite literally fired out of the bottom of the Mandalorian dropship built within a humble freighter hurtle towards the gap in the canopy that gives sight of the high ground that Jessika was making her way towards. No jets engaging. Not even the Mandalorian's engaging.
Movement in the jungle swamp halts, where Jessika caught sight of it, one might even think the whole vicinity was watching as the trio plummet. The big man keeping aa hefty grip on Ben's equipment harness and his other hand on his belt buckle. Waiting.
The waiting itself broken below when a vocalizer distorted voice calls out, "Hands up! You're under arrest!" The speaker, an Imperial Swamp Trooper, with several with it lifting blasters. Maybe trying to thin resistance before the others come.
The bone powdering, organ liquifying fall, brought up short as the anti-grav unit worn by Hadrix - similar to Poe's, is engaged. Throttled even, to shave off speed. Engaged again and turned off in bursts to bring he and his compatriot down into an abbreviated geyser of swamp water.
Jess puts her hand over the front of Ailee's swiveling head as if covering the droid's mouth. Which really wouldn't stop it from beeping, but gets the point across that now wasn't the time for assigning blame. There'll be a time, at a later date, to discuss who's at fault.
She's leaning back against a massive, muddy, tree with her hand slinking down to one of the pair of blasters on her hips. Thumb undoes the button holding it in place as she's pulling it free to rest against the top of her thigh. Ankle's half wrapped, broken. Boot full of mud.
She's got to think ergonomically.
What Would Dameron Do.
Probably not crash his fighter in a swamp..
What would Dameron Do NOW.
'Really don't think charming them with a smile is going to get you out of this Jess.'
Alright brain, I don't have time for your negativity. I'm problem solving mode.
Her hand slides down the front of Ailee's face plate as Jess rolls off the tree and moves like a wounded ninja towards one of the Swamp Troopers who is lagging a little far behind. Thank goodness for this conveniently fallen tree she can use to crouch behind, then suddenly reach above/over, grip the Swamp Trooper around the neck, and yank him down with her.
Thank goodness for having to learn to change in an x-wing very quickly between missions too.
Swamp Jess pops up in armor shortly after. Leaving behind a very disrobed gentleman with his butt in the air. The 'skeeters are going to eat him up.
<"What was that noise.">
The landing probably isn't pretty for Relor. It involves swamp juice and general shittiness, plus his limbs get all tangled in the line. If he can unattach easily from Hadrix, then he will, but that's not the first objective. The first objective is the firestorm they appear to have landed in.
Ben acts on instinct, not waiting for a command. "Looks like they're thrilled to see us!" He brings up the wrist laser he's getting awfully fond of, scowling as he focuses on the closest commander he can find. And it must be his lucky day, because he appears to have shot the guy right in the brainpan. "I guess I'm thrilled to see them too!"
Poe lands softly in the muck after using the belt to defy physics and gravity for a few moments. Trudging forward, he brought up his carbine and took a covered position for the time being. He activated his MCA P-1 Deflector shield, then placed his carbine atop a log for a stable shooting platform.
He appreciated Ben Relor's enthusiasm for getting the fight started, and he joined by targeting another commander. His first blast from the modified carbine blew a hole through the center of his target and spilled them backward. When he shifted to fire on the other commander, the son of a hutt dove out of the way, and Poe's crimson bolt pocked up water and dirt. "HEY.. come back!" He called out.
Was Jess here? He was sure of it. He had handpicked every member of Black Squadron for a number of reasons, but Jess was one who understood the odds of any situation, and knew how to stack her deck. He could feel it in his bones that she would come out on top with this one, too.
Jessika is now in the mix, having utilized years of being dragged around on Poe's brand of lunacy.
YEARS.
And perhaps not a moment too soon when all hell begins to break loose - keeping the blasters pointed away from her. Though there are some sizeable guns now angled in her general direction. Due to her pants. Not because people dislike her.
She's in the wrong battle pants.
Hadrix, having aided disconnecting Ben, rising up with a rifle that is almost as long as he is tall shouldered while it thrums louder and louder. The magnetic cyclers getting the durasteel bolt in the tibanna chamber spinning faster and faster as he lines up his shot.
<"TAKE THEM DOWN! TAKE THEM DOWN!"> One of the trooper's final words before Ben silences them, sending the body crumbling into the muck.
Then the long rifle goes off with a report like an artillery cannon and a force that quite literally shoves the big man backwards a full yard in the muck. The shot going wide and causing a thin trunked tree to jump and begin falling before the big man is shoved back again by the second shot - the commander who had peeked out after Poe, and his own, shot suddenly reduced to limbs and head spinning in different directions.
SWAMP TROOPER PAVA REPORTING FOR DUTY!
With her blaster pistol clutched in her gloved hand, the wounded Colonel hefts the weapon up to take aim at one of her 'comrades' back! It's a quick action. A little upwards tilt of her wrist. Then a bolt fires from the end and connects betwixt shoulder blades at just such an angle to leave a deep scorch mark in the armor.
<"Shots from behind us!">
She shouts this and starts firing in the oposite direction to Ben, Hadrix, and Poe. Diving for cover behind the very same downed tree she'd pulled the owner of her armor across! <"We're surrounded!">
One of the remaining troopers manages to shoot Ben right in the chest. He lets out a yell -- "OH KARK!" -- and goes down for a moment, squinting at the blaster burn that seems to have narrowly missed his heart. But will definitely make for another cool (?) scar.
Still, being shot doesn't stop him. Even though he's on the ground, one hand still on the burn, the incredibly stubborn demolitionist raises his wrist rocket again and screams, "SUCK MY SPACE DUST, LASERBRAIN!" Relor fires -- but alas, all his determination can't make an injured man shoot that straight, and the wrist rocket just fires into a tree.
Poe blasts two troopers in quick succession, then adjusts when he hears Ben Relor go down after being hit. Rising up and moving to the young demo-tech, he kneels down near him and covers, obviously away from the wrist-wielded laser that harms the nearby tree. "You got some fight in you, kid. You good?" Poe offers a hand to pull him back up. "If you feel pain, it means you're alive. Rub some dirt on it and let's go.. I think I spotted Jess. She's playing mind games with them.." Clever girl; it's what Poe would've tried.
Troopers begin wheeling, three forward and two back when Swamp Pava sows discord in the ranks. Weapons shouldered, looking confusedly by the tips of their heads when she hasn't also pivoted. But then more fire is incoming, causing heads to duck and fire to be returned in the melee that is ensuing.
Their numbers reduced rapidly by the fire from Dameron and the Mandalorian who has begun walking forward to compensate for the pounding of the heavy rifle that makes even the beskar plating of his pauldron creak. The fracas quieting to leave only a single... Trooper standing.
<"General...?">
That big cannon now pointed directly at Jessika. Because one never knows.
Jessika is ducking behind a fallen tree where a, mostly, naked fella is laying in the mud butt up. With a very big wookie sized cannon pointed in her face. <"Colonel, but I'll take the promotion."> Hands up, gun still dangling from the trigger guard on her finger. She points at the helmet, then pulls it up and off her head. "I would have shot more of them, but my ankle is killing me."
Which is why she's only got the one boot on. Her foot was too swollen to get OUT of her boot.
"Also it smells like swamp stank in this helmet..."
Which she discards, tossing it over the fallen tree, which she then uses to pull herself up. "Please tell me there's someone coming to pick us up? Discreetly? Because I have no desire to become a permanent resident of Ithor."
Oh, hey Poe.
Big grin for Poe.
"Did you see?" Grinning big enough that her nose wrinkles. She's very pleased with herself.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just a -- ow -- scratch." Ben grunts as Poe pulls him up, begrudgingly taking the hand. His other holds a bunch of dirt, which he does indeed rub into the wound. He even gives Poe a lopsided grin, full of yellowed (from too much smoking), uneven teeth, a few missing near the back. The kid seems to appreciate Poe's philosophy, and maybe even his praise. "Those bastards haven't done me in yet." A squint into the gloom when he mentions Jess. "Was she the voice I heard?" Poe would know better than he would.
Yep. There she is.
Relor hangs back a bit while the happy reunion takes place, one hand still rubbing his wound. He squints over at Jessika, sizing her up, watching the dynamic, but for once, he keeps his yap shut. The young lieutenant opens his mouth at one point to interject, but he ends up just closing it.
"We'll get you some of the good meds when we're back on a ship. Don't worry, pal." Poe slapped Ben's arm approvingly. Was the voice Ben heard Jess? "The one telling them they were getting shot at from behind? Yeah.." He chuckles.
When Jess reunites with them, her big grin pulls one from Poe. "I did. -- Not bad, yeah? I imagine the first thing you'll want after some painkiller is a long shower. -- I suppose you earned it."
Looking to Hadrix, Poe asks, "What's the exfil plan? I will be honest, I wasn't paying attention." Poe offered for Jess to hook her arm over his shoulder and hop limp if she needed.
A button tapped on his vambrace sends out a signal once Jess has identified herself, the big man's personal artillery slung and he is approaching the bodies, visor focused on the one who was shot in the face.
<"Exfil is on the way, I'm the only one who can fly, so be ready for mag-lock quick lines and keep loose.">
The big man's only answer to the inquiry while the roar of outside engines begins to near again. The big man himself lowering to put a knee on the chest of the body - both hands hooking just below the base of the skull and jaw and pulling with a creaking wrenching sound.
Above - the Woor'tra starts a pass - a series of line more like a sequence of fishing leads firing out on small rocket propelled grapnels for the general area.
<"That... is... the... PLAN."> Standing up suddenly with a severed head and a small section of spine clutched between his hands. <"Run in, let them wrap. Stay loose or you'll need a bacta tank."> Looking up at the ship that is very rapidly getting ready to pass over head. <"Stay. Loose.">
Mandalorians.
It's a good thing there's a big mountain of Mandalorian there to provide the winged Colonel support because taking weight off a broken ankle has the added benefit of making it swell. Keep moving or the joint balloons. So she's using him like a Beskar coated crutch. "Two showers. I'm taking two showers." Ailee, who is very much not destroyed, rolls along behind them. Sweeping back and forth to avoid obstacles in the way.
"Stay loose... got it." Stay loose.
Mag-lock quick lines.
"Stay loose." Nod.
She takes a deep breath and gets ready to be jerked into the approaching ship. Relatively chill about the fact, actually. This is just a normal adventure, really. Years hanging around Poe? Yeah, just a day at the office.
When those who lack jet equipment get themselves 'tangled' up in the quick lines it might be the best approximation of what an insect feels like when captured by a fishing arachnid. The lines wrapping and locking to themselves only to jerk the ground team off their feet and towards the belly of the blockade runner with the lone Mandalorian in their wake.
Cords winding, pulling them towards safety - cargo netting repurposed like crash webbing meets them and fires out below so that when lines slacken they don't just go tumbling out.
To Hadrix's chagrin he's forced to be caught in the 'web.'
One of the twins laughing and waving with a mocking sort of grin as the bay door switch is pressed to start them closing and the other calling out via helmet comms, <<"Greeza, get us out. Quick. We need to evade the Itorhians seeing us.">>
Sending them off... to get their own home.
