Log:Surgical Precision

A not so surgical extraction from Bespin

OOC Date: March 9, 2025
Location: Cloud City, Bespin
Participants: Ben Relor, Pax Dredic, Zee'Roh Kora, Cadogan West, Hani Marake, Zena Tane, Cin'cirad Rook, and Hadrix Kora as GM

Security sweeps in Bespin have grown more persistent. Several near misses in the tunnels, crawlspaces and service ducts with seeker droids have forced the guerillas to go deeper and into less hospital zones of Bespin for hours at a time, days even. Setting up bivouac with rough hammocks above a lake of filth in one of the waste processing centers.

Hunkering against the underside of Cloud City with straps and emergency blankets with barely more than reinforced duraplasteen and climbing rig between them and the long fall into Bespin's crushing depths.

It's been rough living and today it has found them in a maintenance blister on the dorsal side of the city, atop the gently sloping saucer shape. A structure that was little more than space for tools so deteriorated their only use was lending credence Zee'roh's findings in the system that it may well be one of the originals and potentially not monitored any longer.

That's the hope at least.

It was good positioning to see the long, boxy, shape of the AAL-1971/9.1 transports descending from orbit towards Cloud City.

<<"We can try to take them here, if anyone has the right ordnance. I don't have any rocket launchers, except what's on my back... Only a few spare warheads for it, too...">> Hadrix was crouched in a shadow, watching through his visor. The man hadn't been out of armor since they arrived and his helmet never off his head for more than the distance needed to clear his mouth for chow. <<"Or we try to guess their vector and try to strike as they disembark. Thoughts?">>

Zena feels so incredibly gross. She can live with it, but all this duct crawling, sleeping in hammocks, staying in armor business has her just feeling ripe. More than once on their crawls through the ducts has she muttered about needing the fresher and a hairbrush.

Now that the business has begun again, all thoughts of comfort are gone. Only the mission remains.

<<"I don't have anything good for it. Nothing ship grade,">> she says. <<"We might be better off setting up at the landing pad and picking them off there. That's my vote.">>

<<"I don't have anything that can punch through quite that amount of metal.">> Sira intones as she looks toward the transport. Sira hasn't removed her helmet much since being on board Bespin either, especially not since they moved to the less... hospitable places to live. The suit working overtime to cleanse the air so she doesn't have to /smell/ what they've been living around.

Her hand runs a bit of cleaning cloth over the armor to wipe away any residual smells that might be clinging to it, <<"Only thing I got that's explosive tipped on me are the knee rockets, and those aren't meant for anything /that/ big.">> Her hand runs the wipe over the knee as she says that, cleaning out the ports to ensure that they don't get clogged up. <<"If we got enough people with jetpacks... What about an air assault? Could be fun.">> Sira looks up ant toward the city from their vantage point, clicking through the menus to zoom in on the ships via her helmet's displays.

For most of this, Zee'Roh has acted as overwatch. She's the only one amongst them that doesn't require any food, drink, or sleep and she's using it to great effect during these trying moments to allow others a chance to recoup what little they can. She doesn't make it sound like she cares, if anything she makes it sound like a burden, but the fact that she's always there to tap a team member on the shoulder when they look drained and to take their watch? She speaks with actions, rather than words.

Likewise, she's pulling double (triple really, she's got a droids processing power to do multiple actions at once) duty monitoring their positions or finding new places for them to rest aside. When she does eat, it's some weird paste. It smells terrible and probably tastes just as bad. She brought it with her because no place on any planet produces the nutrients necessary for an HRD. With her helmet resting beneath her right knee, her hair is oily and tight in curls around her dirty face as she pulls more of the green, rank, paste from the small rolled tube when Hadrix is speaking.

When she does, it's in a squeaky voice. Mousy even.

"I'm nearly bingo on rockets." Her own shoulder mounted rocket pods attached to her jump pack. "No heavy ordinance to speak of. A few extra canisters of fuel. We should have hit the weapons depot to gather needed munitions." This is the reality of warfare. Especially long engagements with no supply lines. Her wide eyes shift from person to person.

"I could 'still' vent all breathable air out of the living quarters. I know everyone is very 'ohhh nooo the peopleeee', but..." Shrug. "Options."

Ben Relor's been high energy since this all began, and it hasn't really quit. His inability to stand still for more than a moment right now is really something -- even strapped in place, he just wriggles. The rough living's probably only adding to it, truth be told. <<"We take them here, we might not have enough to bring them down before they scatter. If we wait until they land, we get more of them in one place, but we also give them time to establish a perimeter.">>

He let that hang in the comm for a second before adding, tone dry as rusted durasteel, <<"I don't like either option, but I like getting shot less.">>

He flexed his fingers, thinking. They needed a third option. Something dirtier.<<"If we can't hit them on approach, we sabotage the LZ. Make them land somewhere we control, somewhere with traps. Turn their deployment into a slaughterhouse.">> His voice was sharper now, teeth behind it. <<"Or if we do take them here, we aim to disable, not destroy. Force a crash landing somewhere we can finish the job on our terms.">>

Ben's hands twitch toward the detonators clipped to his belt. His eyes narrowed at the distant ships, at the stormtroopers he couldn't yet see but could already feel in his bones. <<"Either way, we hit them hard, fast, and without mercy. They didn't come down here to talk.">>

Pax Dredic looks over as he performs a built-in test on his GTUAV-1S Scout Armor system. The ancient armor still, apparently, is going strong. The faceplate on his armor is sealed, and its stealth systems alter the skin of the armor to match the surroundings as he moves. <'I don't have anything that can harm a vessel. If we can arrange it, I say we ambush them as they exist the ship. We can have our resident mad bomber blow the service area for the ship, and disable or destroy the vessel before it takes off. Then kill the survivors.>

As he speaks, he finishes checking out the systems tests, and he crouches, ready to move.

Cadogan West had gotten more surly by the time the band was on hammocks above the sewage. Not due to the location or smell, it's just that he'd run out of alcohol at about that point in their guerilla campaign and the lean Tionese insurgent was disciplined enough not to try and sneak into Cloud City for a resupply. When it came time to sighting the incoming transports and the questions posed, Cado grimaced. "I'm down to me guns and grenades, old timer. What big drek I had's long blown, yeah? Wit some luck, mayhap we slice into comms and listen in on their vector, but.." A hand raised to itch at the side of his neck. He turns to eye Zee'roh sidelong. "Ey, slicer lady.. What the odds ye could cut into this tin can's defense grid, eh?" He paused. "The city even got air defenses? S'gotta, yeah?"

Living in ones armour.. well there is going to need to be more than one bath after this. Possibly a shower, and then a bath and then another shower. And fumigate the armour. But such is the life they live and somehow, here they all are. <<"I leave the blowing things up to the rest of you.">> Hani comments as she takes stock on her medical kit before she is going to need it. Which is likely to be soon when they are talking about blowing things up.

<<"I'm still not in favour of removing all of the air.">> Hani comments mildly.

<<"We're not murdering everyone, Zee. Get it through your circuits.">> Head turning slowly towards the other Kora, holding there before looking back to the shuttles. <<"If we're getting that low on munitions... This might be where we get out as well...">> Hadrix muses, listening to everyone, <<"We've been here a while, they're sending in Troopers, not peacekeepers.">> A feral sounding lilt, <<"Noose is closing...">> Shoulders shaking with a small chuckle.

The pair of transports continue their angle, sweeping towards Cloud City on a standard approach vector. Apparently concerns of anti-air equipment held by the 'problems' on the ground weren't assessed as an issue.

Not a foolish assumption.

Rising just enough to start forward at a low scuttle, the big man continues to speak on comms as the transports near, still small in the distance, <<"Unless we have a section of the city held where we could force them to ground that I'm not aware of. It'll likely be more hit and run, unless we decide to [ansi(hg,S)trategically [ansi(hg,T)ransfer [ansi(hg,E)quipment to [ansi(hg,A)lternate [ansi(hg,L)ocations and boost for hyperspace.">>

Still moving, and more quickly as he goes,

<<"I like the jetpack boarding, by the way... Would save on getting them on the ground, then getting back up. So I guess that might be our chances, kill-box, fade, back to hiding. Commandeer and run?">>

Zena is a -little- worried about the Jetpack Plan. She's not terribly good with it yet. It's a long drop from here, but she's willing to try. Thinking about it makes Zee's kill everyone plan a little more attractive. Her armor is sealed and pressurized, after all. She'll be fine. <<"Worst that'll happen is we'll die,">> she says. <<"Kriff it. Let's do it. Show em what we're made of, then get the hell out of here,">>

She slinks as she can, checking the power pack of her big blaster rifle, the repeater, not the sniper, and her jetpack.

This is going to be rough, she thinks. Business as usual.

<<"Then let's go for the jetpack boarding. Should be a fun start to the party.">> Sira adds as she finishes wiping down her armor and stuffing the garbage back into the packaging. She adjusts her not-quite-normal gloves before standing up and stretching with a reach toward the sky before settling back down. A quick check that the rifle is secured over her shoulder and the rest of her weapons are free and clear.

A quick mark of the various points on the augmented reality inside her helmet as she turns to look back toward the others, both near and not-so near. A slip of her foot back as she gets ready for the 'go' on the rocketpack... assuming that would be the case. <<"Right, Zen? It's not like it'll be much worse odds, plus... should be fun, right? I haven't stolen a ship /in/ atmosphere in quite a while.">>

"It has some minor air defenses." Zee states with a nod, slurping down more of that odd colored paste before depositing the rest into one of the pouches on her belt, "Just enough to ward off pirates. It's not a military instillation.. As for slicing it.." She rolls her head slowly, a serpent sliver of her neck, "There's a zero percent chance they don't have enemy slicers onboard now." The admission of which only has her grinning in a very plastic, inhuman way. "When most people see a wamprat trap, I see free cheese and a challange."

A glance to Hadrix, their CO for this op, "I'll play jolly havoc on their comms, make it neigh impossible for them to communicate with the station, at best. Maybe take over their air defense systems. It's not very likely to stop them landing, but they'll be pretty beat up from the approach and have to deal with a lot more than just what ordinance we've got on board. I'll need time though..." This she adds to everyone, looking around at them.

"This isn't a small slicing job and I'll need to get right up on their comms relay stations on the landing pad. It's a closed circuit network and I'll be way too busy to deal with shit myself. So it'll be on y'all to keep them the kriff off me."

Lastly, to Hani, Zee nods. "Your concerns are noted." Thumb in Hadrix' direction, "Besides, the boss says I can't murder everyone. Eventually he'll learn, but today 'sanctity of life' continues as our primary weakness."

Hither, thither... "Or we can jet pack up there and board them, that'll work too."

Something something something, softy meatbags, something something.

"Oh yeah?" Ben looks around at the rest of them, shaking his head. "And what're we supposed to do if we don't have a jet pack? Wave our hankies at you all and hope for the best?" Ben of the Relor variety snorts. "Look, I wanna bomb the karking landing zone. Just gotta get past security to set it up. How hard can it be?"

Probably hard. But since when has that stopped Relor from suggesting something (that usually gets thrown out for being too risky)? He glances Cadogan's way with a grin and an upnod. "West. You in?"

Cadogan West visibly weighs the options as they're presented. As the jetpack plan is favored, he notes, "I'll need to bum a lift, as it were. Round 'bout how many shellbacks packed on a transport like that, ye wager?" Zee's enthusiasm for the slicing gambit draws a sharp grin out of Cado. "I like your teeth, yeah? Still, if ye gotta go grounded to get slicing, then our notion of hikacking their ride on our way starward gets real dicey, don't it?" A chuckle rattles his throat as he looks back toward Relor. "Not a lot a time t'rig the zone when we ain;t even know where they're bound, Shorty."

<'How many members of the team can we reasonably board with jetpacks and similar gear, though?'> Pax raises his hand. <'I'm good. You are. But what's the plan for those who are not airmobile?'>

He frowns, and the mounted projectile rifle on his armor is adjusted, its barrel checked to make sure its in alignment.

He seems...dubious, to say the least. Still, he doesn't actually oppose the plan. <'What is our exact objective in this engagement?'>

There's a wary moment at the mention of jetpack boarding. Zena isn't the only one who isn't very good at jetpack, yet. Hani hrms softly, almost too quiet to be caught by her helmet. <<"The goal is keeping the death toll on our side to nil.">> The medic is no fun at all, Clearly.

<<"Thank you.">> Hani replies sincerely to Zee'Roh, even if it's Hadrix's order that's keeping the murder hoboing down to a minimum. At least not a maximum.

<<"So if we double up, I think we have enough jetpacks to take everyone who doenst have one up with us.">> Hani looks around at everyone. <<"If that's the route we want to go with a boarding action. Or we can blow up the LZ. I think that's the two options that are on the table.">>

<<"Doubling up. Pax.">> Hadrix is still moving, hands moving to check his gear as they go. <<"Same object as we've had since we hit. Give them trouble, try not to get killed. Draw attention to Bespin. Away from elsewhere.">>

The 'Plan', as agreed upon after some consensus on the move, decided on. <<"People with heavier packs, set up with those lacking.">> A spot on the city's dome with sensor and comm spires thrust up like a metal forest. Allowing for the group to gather up and get situated. Cadogan having the fun of finding himself strapped up like he's in a Battle Papoose on the chest of Al'Verde Kora - via a series of straps with sturdy holding releases in place.

<<"If your partnered, keep still, don't throw off flight plans... If you have vibro-weapons we can cut in. Aim for the fore, drop ramp. ALs have an emergency magcon shield we can use to keep from... Well dying when we leave atmosphere. Otherwise if Zee'Roh can access the top-mount service port, she can open the door...">>

The shuttles are growing closer, splitting in their formation to head to different landing pads once they're near enough that this Great Idea [ansi(hy,tm) can go off.

<<"Those without passengers, keep an eye on one another. Winds up here can be terrible.">>

One shuttle moves closer in its angle. The time counting down rapidly for this to happen.

<<"Go.">>

Zena makes sure her gear is secure as they get to the edge. The trial by fire begins now, it seems. Her first real rocket jump. She draws a breath in her helmet, bending her knees a little, and she jumps.

It's not clean at all. The rockets fire, hurling the Mando through the sky, arcing in an absolutely nongraceful arc. She at least manages to land on the top of the transport, boots landing hard and immediately mag-locking to the metal.

"That could have gone better," she mutters to herself, leveling her rifle at the access hatch, just in case.

In one smooth motion, Sira jumps into the open air. Her arms tucking in, she uses gravity to get a bit of extra speed before the jetpack kicks in. Her head turning, grabbing her point of reference and her body moving to match as she shoots off in that direction. The rumble of the jetpack seeming very little for her as her right hand reaches back to pull free the combat knife tucked into her belt.

As she zips along, she moves her head just a bit to check the locations of the others. Zipping into the wake of the transport for a moment before changing her approach and shifting straight up before landing smoothly on the roof with the activation of her magnetic boots. Her left arm then shifting and the vibroblde sliding out with the 'Shhh-tunk' as she looks back toward Zee'Roh and the others. <"I think it'd be nice if we didn't have to cut our way in. Less chance we'll have to fix everything when we leave atmosphere and all.">

Moving closer to the top hatch, the magnetic boots releasing and re-locking as she takes it one step at a time before crouching down net to the hatch. Knife in one hand, vibrodagger extended from the other gauntlet.

Helmet on.

Zee'Roh may not like the decision to jump up to the ship and engage the enemy on even footing, but she's a soldier and she follows orders. Humans are all self agrandizing, so she can appreciate the necessity to grand stand, which is why she rockets up with the rest of the assorted group and lands on the surface of the troop carrier. Where, she immediately sorts out plugging into the external access node. Crouched down beside it with the wind howling against the outside of her helmet and the wire connecting her wrist computer to the port.

<"Shh, you're distracting me from this very simple work so everyone can show off killing Imperials. You're all welcome. I'm making it very easy for you all to look heroic. I accept all monitary donations and the occassional clap on the back. Good Job Zee, you let my no-no parts feel bigger.'"> Pause in her work. <"Metaphorically, for some of you.">

Ben wasn't in favor of this plan, which makes him cranky to begin with. And he's even crankier when Pax insists on carrying him by strapping him to the front with his face pressed into the glass of his faceplate, rather than out where he can see the world. At least Ben's got a helmet with that BOMBMAN armor of his. <<"If you wanted to kiss me, Dredic, all you had to do was ask...">> He wriggles and squirms in his bonds, vibrodagger out and in hand, and hopefully he won't be threatened to put that somewhere it doesn't belong, like into Pax (not like it would make much diff given Pax's armor, truth be told).

<<"This is a stupid plan!">> Ben gnashes his teeth, literally. <<"Not forgiving you for this one, Sira.">> He wriggles some more. <<"And no one wants to show off, Zee'Roh, or at least I don't. I just want to karking obliterate 'em. So if you're looking for a medal, better hope someone makes a New-New Republic after all this so you can get one.">> Oh the sarcasm. Mostly because Ben doesn't actually want a New-New Republic.

Pax Dredic re-arranges his equipment load. Over his chest, the combat harness he wears is designed to hold weight. But that works BOTH ways. With a quick and efficient series of motions, he unclips the grenades and extra charge packs and extra projectile mags he carries to auxiliary places on the side and back of the harness. A few more things are done, too. The vibrosword he wears over his back is drawn, held in his left hand. His right hand has nothing at all.

And though his face isn't visible behind the dark-tinted visor, the smirk is literally audible. <'Come to Daddy, Relor. Time to wrap you up ands carry you off.'>

The large merc pulls the straps of a secondary harness out, readying it to lock Ben Relor in. Anmd lock him in he does, with Relor's face right up in the dark, one-way face screen of the power armor. Relor is locked in by the straps.

And when he launches, it is an altogether different experience compared to the Mandalorians. The whine of some kind of rotating detonation engine fills the air. Purple shock diamonds extend out in a string. And, with magnificent acceleration. Relor's unprotected body is squished into the hard durasteel and plastoid he's strapped to. The weight is clearly at the limits of the suit's systems, and by the end, it becomes more and more sketchy, their flight path. It bnecomes a real toss up, at the end, as to whether they are going to land safely or splatter all over the side of the target vessel.

<'Huh. Maybe you get to see me kirf it up, Relor. We might die here....!'

As they /barely/ make it, the landing is nearly a disaster, with Relor's strap snapping off, and the poor man left half-hanging over the side of the ship.

<<"The fore drop ramp- ain't that where they got the bloody blaster cannon on overlook?">> Cadogan mutters over his shoulder to Hadrix as the skinny fringer is bound to the lead rocketeer. He peers down to locate all the quick release buckles, checking that his own knife, grenades, and pistol are secured for the jump and within reach. <<"Just don't have ye self a heart attack on the way up, old timer,">> he quips with a sardonic grin. "Let's fly." The Tionese cargo keeps both hands free, as he lacks mag boots, and will trust on the quickdraw capacity of his weapons, once no longer hanging on to the outer hull of a transport in flight.

Cadogan is all teeth, grinning like a fiend. "Let's rekking GO," he howls off comms, hastening for the hatch.

Oh it's not pretty, Hani's first REAL rocket jump. Sure she's practiced, a little, not enough clearly.. because this.. this is so much different. It's a mercy no one made her carry anyone else, because it's less of a controlled jump and more a slightly less splatty version of falling into things. BUT! She gets there, in one piece and clings to the hull. <<"Thank you Zee, for letting them look heroic.">> Hani replies dryly. She's pulling up the rear. Best place to keep an eye on who gets smucked first. <<"Remember, if you are hurt, say something. My psychic powers suck.">>

The forward gun of the shuttle hadn't been angled anywhere but forward when the insurgents had lifted off. And when bodies slam down onto the top of the transport it is trying to swing around to get them in sights. Something more difficult when the rotators are designed to keep them from being turned towards the small observation bubble cockpit on the aft end, where a figure in TIE pilot flightsuit is turning rapidly to look at the landing shapes.

Zee'Roh's work saves time, which likely would have been used by the pilot of the shuttle to try and roll. Shake off those trying to cut in. As it was the pilot was already beginning to haul the ship into a aileron when the ramp of the craft opened with a hiss of seals and the automatic floods engaging. Meant normally to blind those facing the ship with intention of firing in while troops were disembarking.

It halts the roll, because the grav-systems can't keep the troopers inside from being tumbled about when the interior is exposed in atmosphere.

Within the Stromtroopers have stood, holding stanchions with one hand and blasters in the other while the exposed fore also plays havoc with the inertial dampeners. Within the loading bay is a heavy load, when the shuttle is meant to carry ten - unless all the seats are retracted for a full combat load. As it was there were 10 suits of white armor.

Behind them - four in black.

Hadrix, with Cadogan, slams down onto the open ramp - a true Beskad drawn in one hand and his other slapping the release Cado as the boarding action began.

<<"KOTE! DASARUUM KOTE!">>

Maglocks in place, Zena flips the toggle on her rifle, the grenade launcher tube going live. She grins to herself under her helmet as she clomps to the lip, dropping low to evade the swiveling blaster cannon as it tries to draw a bead on anyone. "Not today, nerf herder," she mumbles as she drops flat, leaning over the side and leveling her weapon into the cabin of the transport.

<<SURPRISE! Here's a present, you bantha kriffing sons of gil-goats!">>

The low thump that erupts from the grenade launcher on the T27 is likely alarming. Though the explosion of the concussion grenade is extremely satisfying.

She pulls back, still prone on the top of the transport as she toggles the rifle back to burst. Her gaze meets the trooper in the bubble. He's next. Maybe.

back to Zee'Roh after the slicer does her thing. Her head turning to look back toward where the others are, she lets out a chuckle at how Pax is carrying Ben like a child. <"You just don't like it because you're not the one piloting. Maybe next time, you'll buy a jetpack, then Pax won't have to carry you about, neh?"> A shake of her head, her voice still carrying the bit of a laugh to it since the action hasn't started yet.

<<"OYA!">> Standing up, she walks her way over the back and into the opened hatch just after an explosion from Zena's grenade creates a mass of debris (along with a Hadrix) out the back of the transport. She shoots a quick look to make sure that Hadrix's jetpack engages and with a nod sees it looks like he's recovering.

While standing on the roof inside of the transport, she moves quickly and with purpose, not seeming to care that down is up at the moment. She closes the distance to the nearest trooper, seeing the hand come up she brings up one arm to block while the right hand flicks in - holding the knife downward so it cuts on the inside of the of the elbow. Hooking the arm and following up with a pull up - well down in her case - to cut in at the armpit. Leaving the stormtrooper pretty well injured.

<<"I have 99 problems and you're defensiveness over something not directed at you isn't one, 'bomb guy'. Because I don't actually know your name, in case that wasn't clear or you attempt to pretend like it's some kind of affectionate moniker I've applied to you.">> Zee says as she finishes her work, pops the hatches, and immediately disengages her wrist computers. The blades on her Flamer snap out and she dive rolls into the open hatch under a barrage of weapons fire.

She's not a phantom, but she moves very much like one. She's been playing coy, sitting in terminals letting everyone get kills, but her meat-bag hating heart beats for blood and there shall be plenty now. Her small frame moves like smoke, rolling and sliding across the open hatch as the emplacement fires on their position, but she continues closing with a ruthless intent. Until she comes upon one of the multiple Stromtroopers that she'll notch her flame gauntlets side come the end of this engagement.

The blade slashes out across his abdomen, cutting through armor and flesh, and then stabs forward through the center of his breast plate. Never losing momentum, she's using him as a shield with her small frame tucked on the front side of his body while his compadries attempt to fire upon her. Right wrist jerks to the side and sends the trooper sliding, very dead, across the floor, as she ducks behind some form of minute cover.

<"There's ANOTHER medal."> Sarcasm.

<<"Why the kark would I buy a jetpack? No room for my demolition supplies if I've got one of those on my back, Sira.">> Ben is just getting crackier by the moment and Zee's not helping. <<"I don't give a kriff what you -- AHH!!">> No time for witty rejoinders, Ben Relor! Pax's ungraceful landing leaves Ben half-dangling over the side of the ship on a broken strap. Cursing liberally. <<"I hate my life,">> he says to no one, but he manages to unhook and hoist himself up onto the ship at the same time. Scrambly, skinny guy that he is. <<"May as well take it out on the karking bucketheads! AHHHH!">> Relor yells like a maniac as he goes sprinting past the fire, managing to gracefully dodge most of it while trying to shoot at the same time. He must be too keyed up, though, 'cause the shot misses. More cursing ensues.

Cadogan West dives low to get beneath the blaster cannon's arc of fire, glancing back at the elevated pilot's bubble and givin the black suited pilot a wild grin and rude gesture, before its into the guts of the vessel and the meatgrinder of a close quarters boarding action. Knives and flames and blasts lay out the front rank of troopers leaving Cadogan a moment's line of sight on the black armored elites at the back. <<"Girls up front: grenade going in,">> he warns the front line Mandos over comms before chucking another explosive charge.. And it's a beauty of a throw.

<"Kriff.">

The sight Zena putting the ordnance into the cabin is enough for Hadrix to try and dodge to the side - while trying to avoid sending Cadogan flying the big man is sent over.

<"Karking...">

Wheeling around his own middle axis and his backpack sputtering while he works to right himself mid-air, pack igniting finally when the big man forces it - sending himself upwards towards the landing craft.

"We almost died again."

<"Shut. Up. Gripper.">

Aboard, where knives are out and explosions were going off, the troopers were forced to pull knives and batons to receive the charging mandalorians moving on floor and ceiling in concert with the weapons fire lancing past them. Only one of the Death Troopers remaining and rising to lean against the bulkhead, fighting over multiple concussions to fire on the man who had hurled a grenade in at them after the Mandalorian had used their launcher.

The pilot, drawing a weapon, prepares to join the fray as the hatch opens so that they can lean out with their pistol leveled and taking aim on Zee'Roh where she stands.

Feeling a little smug after the rousing success of the grenade, Zena gets back to one knee, toggling off the Grenade launcher and setting her rifle to burst mode. Her HUD alerts her to motion, and she turns, leveling the weapon at the bubbled gunner's seat. She takes aim, her armor's systems helping her.

Her finger squeezes the trigger, capacitors starting to wind up to ionize the gas.

The ship shakes and jostles, and her aim goes wide, too late to stop the trigger pull. The rifle barks a trio of red bolts out into the empty Bespin sky.

"Rakking....," she mutters. <<"Keep this thing steady!">>

<<"You know, I'm pretty sure you don't get medals for that Zee'roh. Though maybe I can find a bottle cap we can pin to you?">> Sira says back to the shorter Mandalorian as she sees her moving in toward one of the others and slicing him up rather handily. <<"And you wear it /under/ the backpack. Just make sure the straps or tight, wouldn't want to set it on fire.">> She adds to Ben as she keeps moving. Her arm again moves to block the Stormtrooper as they try to catch her with the vibroblade. The screech of it as it leaves a shiny line in the vambrace.

But Sira's hand is already moving as she hooks and pulls the hand wide, her other hand holding the combat knife striking in to stab through the armpit in the armor and silence that trooper, pulling back and cutting her way out.

<<"Moving, cockpit.">> Since getting aboard, she hasn't spoken aloud but instead keeping it to the comms. With one motion she disengages the mag boots, rotates and zips quickly forward toward the cockpit. Sliding the last few feet into a ready crouch just on the other side of the hatch into the pilot compartment.

Deathtroopers who aren't being exploded with grenades and this is a lesson learned in CQC for Zee'Roh. With Sira rushing past her towards the cockpit, blocking the way from the pistols being leveled in her direction, the slicer whips out from behind her meager cover to engage with the dark armored Trooper with her blade slashing through the air with precise, engaged, strikes that are deftly batted away with the butt of his weapon. A kick, caught with the inside of his foot, and a punch that he brushes away with the slap of his palm.

Whatever the case. Zee is all up in the Deathtroopers face. Point blank where his weapon is more or less difficult to use, but her back is to the other troopers as she engages in close quarters with the superior of the Imperial's finest.

<<"Sounds like just one more stupid heavy thing to carry to me.">> Yeah, Ben can still complain while trying to shoot at the same time. Operative word being 'trying,' apparently, because as he brings up his blaster to take aim at the remaining Deathtrooper -- stars, does he hate those guys -- his hands shake so bad that he misses. "HOLD STILL!" Is he talking to himself or the Deathtrooper, who's probably also better at dodging than he anticipated? Because his hands are still shaking when he fires again, and he misses yet again.

<<"Think of the message we could have sent if we blew up the LZ.">> Ben says this to no one in particular as he (one hopes) moves out of the way of fire. <<"What we're doin' now? Doesn't really say anything. I'd rather give 'em something big to clean up.">>

Pax Dredic tromps down the hull, moving up to the ramp entrance from the direction of the now-destroyed, smoking remains of the blaster cannon. There's nothing really graceful or interesting about how he moves. He just bounds up, clomp-clomp-clomp, and pushes down with the power-assisted legs of his armor to land on the floor, just inside the entrance ramp.

He doesn't really move /all/ that quickly. There is a moment's consideration, unseen by the outside world from behind his visor, and then he draws and fires the ridiculously oversized revolver on the drop holster on his right hip.

Two to the chest. One to the head. The armored target just...falls, in a heap, blood immediately pooling. A lot of blood.

Cadogan West yells with wordless triumph as the grenade braks up the quartet of Death Troopers at the rear of the landing craft, throwing up a rude gesture with each hand and only barely managing to not get shot in the fool face for it when one of the troopers rises again. "HA, drek," he cackles, the holstered heavy pistol at his side flying into his hand to return fire. The smile hasn't left the rebel's face since he blasted off the surface of Cloud City. The black armored trooper is struck and wounded, leaving Cado to drawl lazily to Zee in the depths of a mortal knife fight, <<"Ye want dance wit that lad awhile longer?">>

It's a darn fine thing that everyone else is shooting things, because the medic? Well Hani is illustrating the adage that 'if the medic is shooting things, its all gone wrong'. She's doing a fantastic job on providing make work projects for everyone else later, when they have to clean up the laser hits to the walls. She's focused too much on keeping an eye out for injuries. That's it. Clearly.

Numbers mean for nothing when high ordnance are utilized. True words when the Stormtroopers find their ranks thinned, and those still standing are doing their best to fight back, one of the troopers raising their blaster in one hand while their baton hangs from the other. Lancing fire towards the open ramp as another fires wildly at the midnight purple armored figure that lands and charges, beskad swinging, Mandalorian iron cutting the cuisse of their chest piece as they jump back, narrowly avoiding being opened when the razor keen metal slices through plasteel armor like soft bread.

The Death Trooper caught with Zee'Roh fends for himself, or herself... It's always so hard to tell. Managing to try a shot for her center of mass as they get a step back to open up at close range, their shots mixing with the sound of the Pilot's pistol when their answer to Sira getting in their face is to open fire for the stomach.

The ship floats in open air, angling for the landing on auto-pilot.

Not long now.

<<"That's what you think.">> Sira says back to Relor, <<"My thought is that after we get control of this, we low pass over the landing pad before heading to orbit. You drop out some ordnance in a little old school bombing run.">> Sira's still crouched, her eyes casting backward toward the rear of the ship for a moment - at just the wrong moment for that matter. Turning back just in time to see the pilot lean out and catch her with a blaster shot in the stomach.

A grunt, and a hiss as her left hand comes down. She wasn't quite as focused as she was the last time. Her breathing a bit sharper as she felt the pain more keenly. <<"Medic, Sira, I'm hit. Cockpit.">> Sira says, but she's not exactly pausing either. Moving into the cockpit but more to the side to keep the line at least somewhat clear, her knife in her right hand as her left covers the blaster wound. She come in with a slide toward the neck, only for it to catch on the helmet. A return stab down as the craft moves just enough that her strike comes up short. Her third strike was a bit more on target, but was meant more to goad the Stormtrooper to lean out further and give others a better shot as she goes for the gun arm - only for the blade to scratch across the armor.

Taking a half step back and out again, to clear the way for a shot as she keeps the hand pressed to the wound on her stomach.

The blaster shot from the Deathtrooper whales over Zee's ducked shoulder when she tucks her chin and rolls into a dodge out of the way, which conveniently coincides with Cad blasting the poor sod in the chest with the Sentinel. The Slicer doesn't answer immediately the question what follows, preferring instead to right her footing, plant her feet, and stab the extended, blood, wrist blade of her flamer through the gap in plating between sternum and abdomen.

With a hand up to grip the back of the black helmet, pulling the trooper foward onto the blade so that T-Visor can match up with helmeted eyes. She can't actually see through the darkness, but she still watches the struggle fade and the soldier slump, until weight settles on her arm. Until the only thing holding the black armored trooper aloft is the strength in her arm.

THEN she answers Cad, <"Nah, I'm good.">

Dropping them said trooper to begin her stalking approach towards the cockpit.

This heavy Bombman armor is not doing Relor any favors, maybe. It's good for some things -- great, even -- but for the scout who's so used to being nimble, it's decidedly /less/ good. Still, Ben can't blame the armor on his shaking hands. But that's a Future Ben problem, he's decided.

<<"Yeah, well. You just decided that because we're doin' your plan.">> See, this is yet another reason why he's always getting demoted. But as he looks over and sees Sira visibly tousling with the pilot, and then injured, his teeth grind together. "Shavit." Heading that way, he raises his blaster again to shoot, but his hands are still shaking. Misses the first time. Wounds the second, so...maybe that's enough to at least stop him from hurting Sira.

Resettling from the swerve in the flight path, Zena readies to take another shot at the Stormtrooper. Too bad he gets her first. The blaster bolt punches into the chestplate of her armor, the plasma singing and darkening her not at all stealthy paint job. She yelps in pain, the maglocks on her boots and the butt of her rifle the only things keeping her upright as the searing, blinding pain dulls itself to a burning ache. She grits her teeth, lifting her weapon again.

<<"My turn, Kriffhead!">>

She shoots from the hip, a trio of blaster bolts lancing out and punching into and through the Stormtrooper's armor and into the flesh below. He slumps lifelessly, leaving Zena to pant and swear.

She swears a lot.

Pax Dredic is, again, not moving with any particular grace of style. His power armor's stealth coating is set to a dull, non-reflective, matte medium gray. Boring. Unassuming. A lot like the guy wearing it. He moves forward, down the length of the passage, until he finds the wounded pilot, standing near a teammate.

There's not even a moment of consideration, really. His gun shifts, tracks over the man's head.....and then the poor pilot is erased as the massive round blows the man's head clean off.

Unfortunately, Sira is standing in the path of the blood and braisn and skull that go flying around the compartment. Pax winces, a little, at that. "<'Whoops. M' bad, sorry.'>

Cadogan West chuckles low in his throat at Zee's rejoinder, tapping the smoking barrel of the Sentinel to his forehead in a jaunty salute before looking around, spotting Hadrox locked in a deadly duel with the last trooper, and Cadogan unceremoniously blasts the Imperial in the back of their head. <<"Ye alright, old timer? Winded?">> The smile is audible. Craning his neck toward the cockpit, he hollers, <<"Somebody's got the helm, yeah? Nay dying, are we.">>

With the final trooper hitting the ground, the action causing Hadrix to turn towards the smoking blaster of Cadogan. A small nod, even if there's tension in his posture for the lack of fighting the big man really got into. The old timer comment causing his head to tilt to one side before he rasps out, <"I got thrown out of a ship today.">

"Today, weeks ago, years ago... I can accurately count this being the thirty seventh time you've been blown out of a ship, in atmosphere. Hadrix."

<"Shut up, Gripper.">

"Fifty second if you count for the times he has been blown out into space." Gripper's voice continues to rise from where she is socketed into the back of his armor. Sassin' away.

But with the pilot downed as well the cockpit is open for operation. Which is likely good as a pair of TIEs had launched from Cloud City and a voice was calling over the comm panel, demanding <<"Report! Have you solved the situation!?">>

<"Everyone in, button us up. We need to get out and to hyperspace, ASAP.">

Tractor beams from Cloud City begin brushing the ship, trying to catch it, to reel it in.

<<"You will stand down this craft and prepare to be boarded!">>

The voice over comms snarling angrily.

With all of the Imperials late of the mortal coil, Zena manages to swing her rifle to her back, lock it on, and then she slumps. <<"My everything hurts,">> she half-whines.

Luckily they were leaving.

Relor doesn't even get to blow anything up. <<"When I get back, I'm gonna hafta rig something just for fun.">>

Pax Dredic listens placidly to the order to prepare for boarding. He seems...unimpressed. With a dull shrug, he kicks a dead, black-armored trooper out of the way, and sinks into a jumpseat at the order to prepare for hyperspace. As he sits there, the cylinder of his revolver is cracked open, the empty shells ejected, and he reloads from a speedloader on his harness. <'You know, I liked swoop racing.'> He snaps the cylinder closed, and starts the ritual of post-battle,m, where he checks all his gear for damage. <'It was fun. A lot less blood. Well. A little less blood, anyhow.'>

<<"I got you, Zena.">> Hani might nto have shot anything, but she's a pretty good medic. And she's got her kit open as Zena flops. <<"You and Sira both took the brunt of that one.">> She looks over to the pilot. She's next, but Hani's attention is back to Zena for the moment and she digs out a hypo to take the edge off and some bandages to at least keep all the inside bits on the inside right now.

The medic is stalking Sira with bandages and a hypo. <<"Sira. You need to stop bleeding before you pilot, distracted driving is a thing.">>

Sira's armor gets the splatter of it, and she reaches up to swipe off the immediate amount across the faceplate before reaching in and hauling the pilot out of their seat. She could care less about the gore across the inside of the compartment. <<"I've had worse. Once had someone take a gut shot while I was stabbing them... that was worse.">> Is all Sira says back to Pax, the little shrug of her shoulders as the medic comes over to apply the patches to her gut. <<"Oh complaints complaints.">> She teases back to Hani.

Sira slides into the seat as she hears the call from Cloud City Control. Reaching up, she shrugs and turns off the communications, <"It was a boring conversation anyway."> Her left hand grabs the controls as the right starts to flip a few other switches, taking it off autopilot and disengaging the approach vector as the sensors start to pick up the TIEs that are launching. Closing the rear ramp.

Finally no longer on the comms, she's calling back to the people in the rear, <"Yeah, well... Go strap in, Zen. You can complain about it over caff later, I promise. I'll even buy you a... uh, scone or something."> She reaches out to flip a couple of the other switches to change the transponder codes off of the emergency one in hope that it would confuse the TIE pilots for the moment she needed.

<"Sorry, Ben, it's... just one of those days, if we had some fun toys, maybe we could hold the TIEs off and stuff."> Sira starts angling the ship for what looks like a missed approach on their initial vector, ramping up the speed, her hands changing then. Right hand on the controls while the left starts to dance across the astrogation, tapping in a set of coordinates that would make for a mini-jump in system to set up for a longer one after it.

And as the computer starts calculating...

The ship lurches as she hauls back on the controls and pushes the throttles full out. Internal compensators struggling to keep up as she rolls the ship to angle it toward the best escape vector away from the planet. <"Hope you're wearing your mag boots today, Hadrix! Otherwise Gripper might be counting thirty eight if you lose your footing before the ramp closes."> And she pushes them out as hard as she can toward the orbit to make that mini-jump out of the nearby Bespin region.