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Thread: And a Bottle of Rum - 10.003 (complete)

  1. #1
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    Open And a Bottle of Rum - 10.003 (complete)

    Lilaena De'Ville stood on the bridge of her ship, the Haran, and stared at the swirls of hyperspace. They were approaching No Mans Land, the strip of space that separated the burgeoning Alliance of Free Planets and the Galactic Empire. Soon they'd cross over into the Empire, where they would hit their first target since the completion of the Hammerhead-class cruiser. A Galactic Republic era ship, the Hammerhead had been in production for over a thousand years, and some had even still been in use during the Clone Wars. Salem Ave had arranged for a decomissioned and junked cruiser to be towed to Onderon, where the Mando'ade went to work putting it back together. The technology was more in line with what they were familiar with, and in doing the necessary upgrades they had learned more about modern tech.

    Of course it had some Mandolorian upgrades as well, like a complement of Basilisk War Droids in the starfighter bay. They were unlike anything any modern Mando'ade might use, mostly made from the cannibalized parts of older versions, and wholly customized for the harsh environment of Onderon. They were patterned after the viscous boma and drexl, and while there weren't any with cockpits currently there was already a plan in the works to outfit some of them once the needed supplies were scavenged.

    She turned from the viewscreen and looked at her second in command, Bretak. He was in full armor like her, his helmet obscuring his face. "The strike team is ready." It wasn't a question.

    He nodded, and the ship reverted to real space with a shudder. Lilaena took a half step to widen her stance and keep upright; Bretak put out a hand to hold a nearby console where a female warrior was studying the sensor readings. A blue planet loomed in the viewscreen, and the Haran shook again as it plunged into the atmosphere.

    Woostri would literally have no idea what had hit it.



    oh what a tangled web I weave


  2. #2
    Arya adjusted her sunglasses and lay back on her towel in the sand, the relentless sun baking her body. She'd applied a good sunblock lotion so wasn't worried about, well, anything really. A gaggle of server droids were patrolling the white sand beach, tending to the needs of the tourists who came to Woostri to get away from it all. Since the signing of the treaty between the Alliance and the Empire things in this sector were finally settling down again, not that Woostri was of major importance to anyone, but now they were fairly close to the border between the two galactic entities. The denizens of Gopsthal felt safe enough, and tourist activity was picking up again.

    Someone next to her gasped, and the mumble of conversation on the beach picked up in intensity. Arya shaded her eyes and peered around her, propping herself up on an elbow. She followed the pointing arm of any number of sentients, and saw the sky boiling as something large entered the atmosphere.

    "Oh shit," she said, sitting up and grabbing the flimsy coverup she'd brought with her from her hotel room. The large something was getting bigger, and it was heading toward her beach. A bright orange flare cut through the clouds that were spontaneously forming around it, and the ship started to slow down. Arya whipped the tunic over her bikini and shoved her feet into her sandals. People were starting to run willy-nilly while droids advised people to leave the beach in calming tones. She threw her tote bag over her shoulder and ran straight for the boardwalk, leaving everything else behind as the enormous cruiser began landing procedures in the shallow water off the coast.

    There is a curse.
    They say: May you live in interesting times.


  3. #3
    "How'd you get that one?"

    With a sheepish smile he turned his head to look at the scar in his shoulder where a blaster bolt has burned it's way through during his escape from the mines. With a massive hand he ran his fingers over the scar. "Oh thjisss? Jussst a blasssterrr wound. Nothjing ssserrrjiousss." The dismissal of what was indeed not a serious wound only seemed to endear him to his company even more. And by company he meant the lady who was selling beverages from behind a counter and a few other vacationers who had wandered over after seeing the giant cat man. Their initial curiosity over a non-human alien on a vacation beach dominated by Imperial human citizenship then lead to additional interest when they saw the pattern of scars all over the naked torso of the Cizerack. In a galaxy where bacta is fairly available to all it was uncommon to see someone with scars, but bacta was not something that had been made readily available in the mines, or even in his life before that.

    However, all the humans attention, from both the female and male genders, was not exactly something that he desired. Jaas would prefer to lie low and be unnoticed, but that was apparently hard when you were a giant grizzled slab of a man. A query about the menu had turned into a game of guess the scar origin. Then they started touching the scars, and feeling the muscles on his chest and arms, and his discomfort was finalized. With a nod and a fake smile he took a drink in both hands and stepped away, heading back down the beach to where he left Arya. However he had hardly turned around when he something in the sky caught his eye.

    A shape in the sky, flashing brightly. Sticking on drink in the crook of his other arm he raised his newly freed hand to his forehead and squinty up at the object. It was getting bigger, and his keen eyes caught the details. It was a ship, a big ship, catching the glint of the sun on it's hull. He was no expect on starships, being incredibly uneducated in such things, but he was pretty sure that entire star cruisers were not suppose to just nosedive toward planets. "Traanjirra take usss..." The burning sensation on his feet pulled him from his stupor as he headed back down the beach, dancing on the hot sand with his bare feet. They were tough like leather after working in the harsh mines but even then the sand was really quite hot.

    "Arrrjya!" He called out, trying to yell over the sounds of panic that were now filling the once tranquil beach. Just ahead he caught sight of his raven haired companion, who was already getting up from the sand and grabbing her things. He waved for her and then lead the way through the panicking vacationers. At least in the mines he had his gear, pick, and a blaster to fight the darkness, but no in this uncertainty he was feeling quite vulnerable with only a pair of swim trunks to his name. "What jin the hell?" Was all he could think to say as he shouldered the way ahead of them. Anyone who decided to panic in their direction found themselves shoved forcibly out of it.

    Go to Woostri she said. It'll be relaxing she said.

  4. #4
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    The Hammerhead-class cruiser tore through the atmosphere of Woostri, turning slowly as it aimed at one of the many white sand beaches. The majority of the planet was underwater - submerged really. What dry land was left after whatever cataclysmic event had drowned the single large continent was covered with cities and tourist traps. Woostoids were calm and analytical, and enjoyed vast amounts of leisure time due to their mostly automated society. They were wholly unprepared for an actual assault, which made them perfect for De'Ville's purposes.

    She turned to the doors, a dark red cape draped from the shoulders of her black, white, and red armor. A warrior handed her her helmet, and she put it on as she stalked off the bridge, the HUD flickering to life as the ship made some unholy noises. This was the first large test of the cobbled together ship, and part of her was afraid it would just fall apart when they touched the land. Words scrolled at the bottom of the HUD, assuring her that hull stress was within acceptable parameters. The cruiser landed with a heavy thud, struts sinking slowly into the wet sand in the shallows.

    De'Ville and Bretak took a turbolift down to the starfighter bay where her Mando'ade were mounting their war droids.

  5. #5
    She didn't have an answer for Jaas, but grabbed the rebreather he had dangling around his neck and shoved her face into it. She'd left hers on the beach in her rush. Woostri's atmosphere was oxygen thin, probably because there weren't many plants to produce it. Then she took the drink he was still cradling in his arm and gulped it as vacationers streamed around their momentary stillness. The sound of the landing cruiser made talking impossible anyway, a roar that rattled the bones as it settled into the ocean just off the beach.

    Jets of vented gas streamed out of the bottom of the ship, reacting with the salt water and momentarily shrouding the hulk in a psuedo-cloud. The sound lessened, but didn't abate. Apparently these folks were going to keep the engine running. Jaas took a hit from the rebreather, and Arya looked up at him. She pointed emphatically toward where the Wing of the Raven would be, the opposite direction down the coast from their hotel rooms at the only starport.

  6. #6
    Jaas half lead, half carried Arya as they plowed through the crowds with all the grace of a blind bantha. Catching her eye, he followed the angle of her pointing finger and her intention dawned on him. The ship. Yes. They needed to get out of here. Literally. Jaas had only been thinking in straight lines. Run, don't look back, and push anything that gets in the way out of it. He wasn't used to having to solve problems. That was what Arya was here for. Even in his precious capacity, before the mines and the slavery, back when he'd had a mistress he had been used as little more than brute force. Solving your problems with your fists was easy when it worked, but situations like this only served to make him feel helpless.

    Tugging the rebreather from her hand he took a breath. The thin air was acceptable until you had started moving. The running was putting strain on their bodies, creating a need for more oxygen. At least the ship would have normal oxygen levels. His head was already awash in a daze from the lack of it. A loud grinding metal on metal sound caught his ear. Turning his head he looked back, his taller stature allowing him to see over the tops of the panicking tourists. A hatch had opened in the ship, which was now surprisingly already in the water, landing up against the beach. Out of the open bay leaped several objects; shiny, metallic. Droids. Upon each was mounted a armored man. Jaas counted seven of them. They launched from the opening and landed in the water, disappearing from sight. Jaas didn't wait to see if they resurfaced, because he knew better than to linger.

    Everyone was fleeing for the docking bay, and everyone was fighting to get into the doorways. There was a saying, something about how there is always an exit when there's a Wookiee on fire. A strong shoulder scattered people like bowling pins, plowing an opening behind him for Arya to follow in. Inside the docking bay what amounted to a security force, rent-a-soldiers who probably didn't even know how to use the shiny brand new blasters on their hips, were trying to calm the terrified people who wanted nothing more than to either take their own personal craft and leave or whatever wasn't nailed down and could fly. One such guard tried to stop the approaching Cizerack, even brandishing his little blaster like some kind of shield, and found himself forcibly picked up and tossed aside like a rag doll. Jass picked up his fallen blaster and motioned for Arya to continue. His eyes met those of the other guards, and the looked he gave them dared them to try something.

  7. #7
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    The Basilisk War Droids bounded out of the open bay, splashing into the meter deep shallows. Lilaena crouched low on the back of the droid she rode, leading the charge to the beach. Towels and colorful shade parasols were ignored as the metal beasts surged onto the beach, splitting into a group of three and four. Four droids and a complement of ten additional Mando'ade with jetpacks headed for the nearby starport. De'Ville and the other two droids and riders continued straight on, their target the databases in the heart of the city.

    The Woostri were easily alarmed and cowed by imagined threats, in a full on emergency she was counting on their fear to clear the way for her objectives. Someone might manage to put out a distress call to the nearest Imperial base, but any response would be too late. Unless, of course, there is a random border patrol nearby. Then it would be cutting it close. De'Ville rocked back on her seat as the boma shaped droid leaped over a cluster of outdoor tables. So far no one had fired any shots, but she could see flashing lights headed toward her. Security droids. She gripped her mount with her knees and drew her blaster, hunching over it's neck for cover as her trio continued to run forward at full speed down the quaint brick roadway.

  8. #8
    The guards suddenly scattered, retreating into their security office as a heavy durasteel blast door closed behind them. Arya frowned, but in an emergency the Woostri saw no reason to waste sentient lives. Security droids rolled over the gaudy starport carpet, their lights flashing yellow and red. "Please to head for shelter, armed intruders approaching." The words were repeated calmly in the native tongue and a few others, then in Basic again. Frantic people hesitated, then scattered into shops and behind counters.

    Arya tugged at Jaas' arm, and they followed a group of determined Givin through the promenade toward the landing pads. Behind them there was a terrific crash, and she risked a glance backward. There was a cloud of dust and debris, and a huge, beast-like droid was tearing through into the starport. Armored Mandalorians streamed inside from behind it, taking on the security droids with calm precision. She had no idea what Mandalorians were doing on Woostri, but she did know that she wanted absofuckinglutely nothing to do with it. Arya picked up the pace, overtaking the skeletal Givins. She stuffed her hand into her forgotten tote bag and pulled out her blaster as she ran.

  9. #9
    "So you see, Commander," he said, not looking directly at the waifish security commander. "The blasters aren't that difficult to operate at all. Some difficulty in the action was an unfortunate drawback to reliability and power."

    He was dressed in what almost appeared to be a costume mocking navy uniforms, but von Metzger, not being a particularly militarily-oriented person at all, only noted that he looked ridiculous, and assumed most of the competency of the security forces must come from the droids. Thankfully, he had outfitted their weaponry also, making both organic and droid members of the security forces bear arms more modern than the Clone Wars era firepower they'd used before.

    On the screen in front of them, images of the Mandalorians were streaming in, and all the organic officers were looking anxious. Sarin von Metzger however, seemed perfectly at ease.

    "They don't seem to be helping against them," the Security Commander pointed out. Sarin rolled his eyes while an underling reported sightings of some Mandalorians in the starport, and more heading their way, into downtown.

    "I wouldn't expect an half-trained security guard to do well against a Mandalorian at all, no matter how well armed," the weapons designer pointed out. "Just give them what they want and I'm sure everything will turn out just fine."

    The security around him stared at him for a moment.

    "I'm not about to tell you that my pistols and rifles alone will give you an edge over a heavily trained and armed military force, gentlebeings," von Metzger made his way out as his comm pinged, alerting him that the payment had gone through to his account. "Really, training is three-fourths the importance in deciding combat. Outfitted weapons and other gear make up the last one fourth."

    He smiled and bowed shallowly.

    "I do hope you all survive," he said, just before the door closed. He turned and made his way back out into the decidedly still bustling city center, where the security force's anxiousness seemed to have bled into the general populace.

    "It will be troublesome if they close down the starport," he sighed to himself. He entered a series of characters into his commlink and tried to connect.

    "Hello? Arya, my dear. I'm glad to see those brutes haven't harmed you."

  10. #10
    "Sarin." She gasped for air and Jaas handed down the rebreather as their little group scattered onto the large, open air landing pad. Arya took in two deep breaths, and touched the Cizerack's arm, stopping him so they could reorient their headlong dash. She looked down at her bare legs and belated considered how ridiculous she must appear with her bathing attire and blaster pistol. "Don't force me to take a vacation ever again."

    There was a loud crash inside the spaceport, but nothing had followed them outside yet.

  11. #11
    "Don't go saying things like that," he said, fitting a small rebreathing device to his nose. "One day you might actually want to take one, and then where would you be?"

    He walked over to the swoop bike he'd used to travel to security department's headquarters and straddled it. A few people stopped and gawked at him slightly, wondering what sort of smuggler with two blaster pistols on his hips could also wear upper tier tunics and trousers.

    "Is the ship cut off, or will we need to make a way back?"

  12. #12
    His large torso heaved, fighting to find a satisfying level of oxygen in an atmosphere that could not support it. The blaster looked like a toy in his massive hands. Not the type he usually employed, but his newly started collection of large blasters and knives had been deemed too large to conceal on the beach. Even a hydrolic sonic pick like back in the mines would have been preferable to this tiny weapon. At least that might pierce the armor these "Mandalorians" were wearing. Jaas picked up that name from the screaming people as they ran through the spaceport, but he admitted that he had never heard the word before. They appeared to be great big soldiers in full body armor with jetpacks and massive droids they rode like Dewbacks, if Dewbacks were mechanical, really fast, and literally made of weapons.

    Ahead of them was the landing pad, an open space that left him feeling hopelessly exposed. Years spent confined on a starship and then with rock underfoot and overhead left large open spaces something to get used to. However, no matter what direction they moved in Jaas intentionally positioned his much large body so that it was always between Arya and whatever the closest, and most immediate threat was located. A few other vacationers had managed to keep up with them, but they kept their distance from the Cizerack and the human with the blasters. Some even asked for help, but they had none to spare. He urged them to hide and wait. If they were found, well, Traanjirra always had room for more souls.

  13. #13
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    Lilaena murmured a voice command in Mando'a to her Basilisk, and it obeyed instantly, it's chest opening up and sending small explosive rockets shooting into the approaching line of Woostrian droids. If people hadn't been screaming before they started to then, as bits of metal showered down from the explosions. The still functional security droids fired blaster bolts at the Mando'ade, but as the Basilisk kept charging forward many of the bolts landed behind them. The droids seemed to be aware of all the civilians nearby as well, and were probably holding back.

    Grendal, the Mando'ade mounted beside De'Ville, fired an explosive round into the second story of a store just up the road. Windows up and down the street blew out, and fire licked at neighboring buildings as the invaders dashed through the mayhem and toward the center of the city.

    At the spaceport the Basilisk were charging through the indoor promenade, for no other reason than causing a panic. A well placed cluster of shots caused the ceiling to collapse behind them, destroying the picturesque front entrance. The ten shock troopers with jetpacks had not entered the building, but instead soared over it, landing in formation in the center of the large landing pad as the first of four beskar Basilisks crashed through a wall and out into the open. The Mando'ade scanned the area for a moment, and then split into two groups, heading for two of the largest ships on the pad.

  14. #14
    "Ship is cut off from you, but we'll make it." Arya shoved the rebreather back at Jaas, and yanked one free from one of the cowering sentients who were trying to hide behind the big Cizerack. An enormous battle droid broke through the wall of the spaceport rather than using the doors, and it stretched as if it were an animal. She couldn't help but stare at it and it's Mandalorian rider. There was something off about the whole situation, not just that it was happening, but something about the attacking warriors...

    She watched as the unmounted Mandalorians began to scatter throughout the landing pad, and things started to fall into place. "I think they're here for the ships. I'll call you back from the Raven, gotta get her out of here." Arya clicked off the commlink and shoved it into her bikini top. "C'mon Jaas, time's a wasting." She clipped the stolen rebreather to her nose and made a beeline for their ship, trying to keep other parked starships between her and the Mandalorians as the other three battle droids emerged from the smoking spaceport.

  15. #15
    His eyes watched the approaching droids, mesmerized by the awesome force they displayed. Only Arya calling his name pulled him back into the moment. Stepping backwards he moved toward the ship, all the while keeping an eye on the droids. An alien tried to grab a hold of him, trying to be dragged into the ship, but Jass easily dislodged the spindly creature before turning and running before any of the other begging sentients could grab him again. He wanted to shoot back at the Mandalorians, to not be just another coward running away from a fight. He could hear her words in his head, urging him to never back down, to always fight. That was a different time, a different place. Back when he had honor. Before he failed.

    He wasn't about to let that happen again, so he ran after Arya. His bulky frame shoved anyone in his way out of it. Slipping between the docked ships, idle repulsarcarts, and strewn luggage was almost a chore for his rather large form. He was not as agile as he used to be, not after the years in the cramped mine, but he did his best, and only tripped a fell a few times when he would look over his shoulder when he should have been paying attention to where he was running. Arya never got too far ahead of him, his longer legs and powerful strides keeping him right behind her.

    "What do thejy want?"

  16. #16
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    The Mando'ade were wasting no time, using electronic lock cyclers to unseal two of the largest ships on the pad - a fairly shiny Mon Cal freighter named the Squid's Gambit and a YT-1300 that had seen better days titled the Centennial Eagle. Security droids were descending on the area, but the large Basilisk droids made short work of them. Broken and sparking bits of droid started to pile up at their ingress points. Two Mando'ade each ran into the ships, making sure the vehicles were clear. The ones in the YT-1300 wired a slaving device to the cockpit console, matching it to the Squid's Gambit, and fired up the engines before leaving and closing up the freighter.

    Lilaena heard the reports over her comm as her Basilisk crashed into the side of a building as it turned a corner a little too wide. A man on a swoop bike was in front of her, but he had his weapons holstered and so she simply directed her droid to leap over him.

  17. #17
    "Our fucking ship!"

    The alocytes were working quickly, but there was as much distance between them and the Chevette77 as between Arya and the ship. The only problem was the huge animal-like droids could cover the distance on the landing pad much quicker. The smuggler ducked behind an abandoned people mover, a glorified sporting cart with two ten seater cars joined by a hinge. "Remind me to valet park next time."

    Jaas crouched beside her, his bulk hardly concealed by their position, and Arya sighed, peering over the side of the peoplemover. The Mandalorians were swarming two more ships, the first ships' repulsors and sublights spinning up. "Looks like they're being methodical about it. One guy per two ships, I think, probably slaving the systems." Her big companion studied the commotion while she gauged the distance to her ship. There wouldn't be a problem reaching it first, unless - "Fuck me," she sighed, then shoved herself off the duracrete. A pair of Mandos were jetpacking their way toward the far edge of the landing pad, where Wing of the Raven was resting.

    "Krasst!" Her sandals slapped the ground loudly as she ran full tilt toward the ship, determined to reach it first or - well, there was no plan other than simply get the ship and keep it away from the thieves.

  18. #18
    A low growl grew in the pit of his throat until it emerged as a roar that would have stopped a Sand Panther in it's tracks. While before Jaas had held the rear, putting himself between harm and Arya. The moment they left the relative safety of the peoplemover cart he broke ahead of Arya, his longer legs striding deep as his covered the distance; his eyes set on the pair of men flying through the air. The crappy blaster fell from his hands, clattering to the floor. It was only slowing him down. Now his arms pumped at his sides, like the pistons on a combustion engine. Bare feet slammed into the durocrete landing pad. Bits of debris and garbage tried to slow him down, but the bottoms of his feet had long ago hardened to callouses through years of the uncomfortable soles of reinforced boots.

    Arya dwindled further and further behind, incapable of keeping up with Jaas' long legs. The jetpacking soldiers had a long distance to cover to get to the ship, but had the advantage of bypassing obstacles, debris, and terrified vacationers. They were focused, heads straight forward. Eyes on the prize. The ship was close now, practically at their fingertips. The one in the lead didn't even think to look behind. It wasn't until something heavy grabbed ahold of him did he turn his head to look, and it was looking into the incoming striped fist of a very upset felinoid.

    His fist bounced off the Mandalorian's helmet visor, but it felt a mark and the impact alone was enough to jar the man's head. Combined with the added weight of the Cizerack holding on to his jetpack harness with it's other hand the man lost his balance and plummeted to the ground, bouncing off the durocrete pad and rolling back up to his feet. Jaas was already on top of him, striking him again with his bloodied knuckles and using his larger size to force the man back, keeping him from drawing his blaster but constantly barraging him with a flurry of hits. In the back of his mind he was aware there was another one of them, but it was impossible to see through the red mists of rage. There was only one focus, to destroy the armored humanoid in front of him.

    A blade shot from the man's gauntlet and he counter-attacked, but Jaas had only to raise his frame and the blade whirled inches from his abdomen. Then he bent back down and hit the man again, sending him stumbling into the hull of the Raven. There was nowhere for him to go now as Jaas pinned his blade arm against the hull and even as he went for another weapon on his belt Jaas was busy bringing his knee up into the man's groin. Even with the helmet on he hurt the telltale wheeze, and as he bent, trying to bunker down and protect his vulnerables, Jaas was using that movement to pull the man down and into a second strike of his knee that connected with his stomach this time. His breastplate took most of the hit, but there was no way to stop the shock of force that was just deposited into his body. Grabbing at the bottom edge of the helmet he pulled the dazed man's head back, exposing his neck, and then brought the full force of his palm directly into that reinforced rubber neck seal.

    The sound of gurgling through a broken windpipe marked the demise of his honorable opponent. Like a used napkin the body was tossed to the floor to a short eternity of clawing suffocation. Wild eyes looked up from the soon to be corpse; searching for the second flying man, and for the Arya who hopefully took care of him.

  19. #19
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    The Acolytes that had split off toward the Chevette77 were not expecting the stiff resistance that met them. If the Cizerack had gone against a Mando'ade familiar with the strength of his species, it may have gone differently, but the warrior underestimated his opponent and paid the price. The second Acolyte had headed directly for the airlock of the ship, trusting his partner to dispatch the unarmed alien, and realized his mistake too late to help.

    His lock cycler was working, decrypting the string of digits needed to open up the ship, but he left it working, turning and aiming his blaster at the big Cizerack's back as he tossed the limp body of his partner aside. A heavy blow to his midsection slammed him into the hull of the ship, followed closely by a loud crack. He steadied his aim, but found his arm hard to hold up, hand shaking. He grabbed the blaster with both hands, HUD scanning for threats and finding a human woman standing a few yards away, a large pistol in her hand. He reflexively pulled the trigger of his blaster, energy bolts sizzling toward the Cizerack who was diving for cover, and painting the duracrete with scorch marks as he tracked his aim toward the woman.

    A second punch to his gut made him stumble to his knees, followed quickly by another that sent his blaster flying away from him. Pain then, lots of pain. The HUD advised that that his forearm had been bisected by a projectile, and his chest plate compromised by the same. The woman, wearing a bikini and sheer cover up, advanced, her flip-flops sounding ridiculous as she leveled her rail gun at him and fired off another high velocity round at near point blank range, smashing the visor of his helmet, obliterating the HUD and smashing his head to the duracrete. Though his Mandalorian Iron armor and helmet held up remarkably well against the onslaught, the velocity of the strike turned his brain to jelly.

  20. #20
    Arya ripped the lock decryption device off her ship, dropping it to the ground and staring at the retinal scanner. It quickly recognized her and her personal code, opening up the airlock and extending the ramp. "Come on!" She turned to wave Jaas inside, and he was already jumping into the ship, not waiting for the ramp to fully extend.

    She stepped on and ran inside, beach tote slapping her thighs as she punched the controls to close up the ship. It appeared that no back up was arriving for the Mandalorians who'd targeted the Wing of the Raven, the others focusing on easier prey.

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