Toxicity and a Man Overboard
Took 'em three days t'finalize plans. Woulda taken shorter, but Kazaar forced th'Kid to take a day off t'rest, after finding 'er passed out by a buncha planning documents. "Rest is a weapon, Kid. Haven't I frackin' told ya that 'nough?" He'd chided 'er. Had t'be sharp when goin' into battle. Even if th'Empire's 'finest' weren't always the brightest bulbs in th'sockets. Better t'be taken out with all ya faculties than onna count o'bein' stupid. Even Kazaar, with his love o'alcohol knew that. Most o'the time. He'd gotten fracked up before a bounty once and had Ash almost beat th'living hell outta him f'gettin' shot up. And that was before they'd discovered their mutual attraction.
Estelle's finger traced the outside of her jaw while her other hand went over the plans to the Star Destroyer where General Forlon was being held. "Forlon should be here." She pointed towards th'prison level, which was near the aft of the ship.
She then moved her gloved finger to the left a bit to an area about three decks above engineering. "And according to Othniel, the commandos will enter through here. Then move towards the detention center. Suggestions on where we should be?"
Kazaar smirked. "Go in as stormies'n be engineering. Best way t'stay outta sight, since they got too frackin' many of 'em, and still be close 'nough t'the action. If they ask us why we ain't going t'the prison level we tell 'em we're there t'guard th'brains."
"I am not going in as a stormtrooper." k'Vik put in resolutely. "I'm too short and they do have standards." Even she had seen them during her short time around Esalis.
Another smirk from th'former bounty hunter. "What ya afraid a little stormtrooper armor might lower ya IQ're something. It ain't that bad, Birdy."
"She's got a point Aurelias." Th'Kid put a stop to th'argument before it began. "We could face a lot of questions if out heights aren't up to standards." She thought a moment. "We could go in as engineers. Their standards aren't quite as stringent and I like the idea of being near engineering itself."
"Might work." Kazaar nodded takin' a puff offa his cigar. "Gotta make sure Othy can get us some fake orders though. Those damn engineers sometimes get assigned as gunners. I sure as hell don't wanna get a frackin' demerit f'abandoning m'post if th'mission tanks." He smirked. Being near th'power cells made sense in case they had t'frack 'em up t'keep the commandos cargo holds intact. Kazaar rose from his seat. "Sounds like a plan, Kid. get a hold o'Othy'n see if he's gotta couple extra suits (knowing that guy's connections he's gotta bunch). I'll grab some extra mines."
Imperial Transport IA73X: En route to the Victory Star Destroyer Steel Gargoyle
Everything from there fell into place pretty well. 'The Black Man' was able t'get th'trio a couple extra engineering suits, plus some orders straight offa Coruscant, sayin' they were th'new engineering team for th'Steel Gargoyle (who th'frack names these ships anyway?). Only problem was hot damn hot th'helmets were. Sure as hell didn't provide a ton o'vision either, which sucked more than th'heat. But it beat bein' asked how come ya partners were "too short t'be stormtroopers" which Kazaar just knew some Imperial officer, trying t'show how big ovva blaster he actually had would do. Frackin' brass. Buncha morons who never spent time in th'trenches.
'Least th'helmets had their own comm system so Kazaar could talk t'both th'Kid and k'Vik without bein' bothered by 'nother engineer. Boy that'd sure be a helluva way t'get a mission blown. 'Course both Estelle and Kazaar'd heard 'bout missions being blown for stupider reasons. But both of 'em wouldn't be on this one if they weren't two o'the best. Even if no one'd admit it.
Th'transport docked, allowing th'team of engineers t'disembark and enter into th'wide hangar. It wasn't Kazaar's first time on board a Star Destroyer, but it was th'first time he'd run into a line t'get off. Warning bells started goin' off in all three...something was up. When they finally got off th'transport, they saw why.
The Empire had a buncha officers checkin' out every engineer who came through: makin' sure their datapad IDs matched th'ones on their uniforms, makin' sure their tool kits actually had tools, and making sure they knew where they were headed. Estelle, Milivikal, and Kazaar were all in th'clear, even if Kazaar had a couple mines in his toolbox. His file claimed he'd been a combat engineer just offa Sarapin, so he had an excuse f'carrying th'explosives, but the trio still knew this was tighter security than they'd expected.
Even if one of th'officers taking their info stated. "Aren't you a little tall for an engineer?"
Kazaar smirked inside his helmet. "No sir. Finished top of my class at the Imperial Academy." Smartass.
They were hustled through security quickly, each given a thorough once over and were assigned to their positions in engineering. But it was pretty certain t'all of 'em: Th'Empire knew the Rebels were comin'. And they were ready.