Yavin Station
Re: Yavin Station
~ He didn’t quite remember the hangars feeling this … cramped. With a steady hand on the carbine in his grip, the human barely brought his voice above a whisper whilst surveying the scene ahead. A scene that made his heart leap into his throat.
:: Dragon Lead, this is Dragon Four. ::
He awaited the reply with baited breath, still trying to maneuver around the cargo crates that thankfully happened to be stacked near the duct he had entered the bay through. It felt … wrong, sneaking around the Station he had lived and worked on for some five years now. Granted, that was as a Communications Officer. Not a soldier.
Thankfully, he was not alone.
:: This is Lead. Go ahead, Ben. ::
:: I’ve made it into Hangar Twenty-Seven. What’s your position? ::
There was a short pause before the next transmission. There almost always was. One could not be too careful about how loud they were.
:: Just north of you. Hangar Twenty Eight. ::
Ben breathed a sigh of relief. With the Jedi close by, he did not feel like this was the suicide mission these little recons tended to be.
:: What’s the scene like? ::
With slow, careful motions, the same that had saved his life this past week, Ben Urlano took another gander out from behind his crates, raising a pair of binos to his eyes. Hopefully, the data transmission from them would make it back to the Onyx Dragon undetected.
Before him was a sad and sorry sight. Those that had not escaped in time, or had been lucky enough to find the Rebels, as the resistance now called itself, were apparently being rounded up behind walls of projected energy. Mandalorian Guards in their infamous T-Visor helms kept constant patrol around these prisoners. They had discovered similar setups on other parts of the station, but not in the Hangars before.
They had only just managed to scout out this far. Upon seeing the roughly 2 dozen beings contained like this, Ben wished they had found out about this sooner.
:: The Bays, they look like Prison Camp, over ::
That familiar pause. Then,
:: Say again, Dragon Four? You said they’re converting the hangars into prison camps? ::
Ben tapped his earpiece a little. The last message had come through with a sharp burst of static. Ever since that EMP had went off, most of their tech had been on the fritz, unfortunately. Were it not for Chief Ohbyran, they probably wouldn’t even have had communicators, let alone half the other machines and computers he had gotten working again. Ben repeated his message to the Jedi on the other end, Karada. No sense in risking not being understood.
:: Aye, Dragon Lead. They’re turning the hangars into pee-oh-double-you camps. ::
It was a strange thing, to reference one another as Dragons. But, then again, it served two, wonderful purposes. Firstly, as Karada had pointed out when he suggested the idea, it managed to throw any Mando code-breakers off of their scent, maybe even stir up a little bit of confusion too if they kept hearing about Dragons down below and then heard the same chatter onboard YS1. Secondly, it was a small, but noticeable boost to morale: Not many got to wear this Moniker, reserved solely for the Best.
As he looked down at his “borrowed” Security Forces Uniform, the yellow coloring dulled by a matte, spray paint to blend in with the rest of the grey, light blast armor, Ben wasn’t entirely sure he felt like the best. But this was still his home, and he was still willing to fight.
:: What are the Defenses? ::
Ben peered around more with the binos, trying to zero in on what he could make out for now.
:: I see … maybe fifteen, possibly twenty Mandos on the ground. ::
He looked up now, frowning. The catwalks were being heavily fortified. He thought he spied an E-Web hidden behind an I-beam, leaving him to try and boldly come a little more out of cover to confirm it. Unfortunately, confirmed it was.
::They’re converting the gantries into Guard Towers, of a sort. ::
:: Repeat that last, Dragon Four? You’re breaking up. ::
Ben grunted in frustration, speaking perhaps a little louder than he should have.
:: They. Are. Turning. The. Gantries. Into. Guar-- ::
” Hey! Hey, who’s back there!?”
Ben’s eyes went wide, two of the Mandalorian sentries now approaching him. They second they all had laid eyes on one another, the rifles came up. Ben ducked back behind the durasteel cargo crates and hoped they would hold out to the fire for a moment.
:: Oh kriff, They spotted me! ::
No time for cowardice, he supposed. The others would be here soon. Ben resolved himself to try and give them more time, to put the attention somewhere else.
On himself.
After a flurry of red spears crashed over his head, scarring the wall in burnt carbon, Ben popped up just enough from behind his cover to begin laying fire back at the two. The other Mandos were on the move now, the turrets coming online, but that didn’t matter. He was just one man: these prisoners needed to be saved.
Damn Jedi sensibilities, rubbing off on everyone …
His compact carbine was sending back azure quarrels with timed, considerate marksmanship, catching the first of his attackers in the chest. It would not be long before he was swarmed and overwhelmed, the earpiece on his head still screaming at him louder than the beginning battle.
:: Abort! Abort, Forcedamnit Ben, get the frell out of there! We’re on the way! :: ~
-
Dav Man'Sell
- Jedi Battlemaster
- Posts: 342
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 12:18 am
Re: Yavin Station
When Sarha Vao finally reached the corridor outside twenty-seven, maybe twenty seconds after Ben's call, the sound of laser fire was an almost constant back and forth. The din of various kinds of laser rifle, blaster repeater, pistol, ion-weapon, and slugthrower was interspersed with the familiar noise of the Peacekeeping Taskforce's ionised weaponry, telling her that Ben was still, at least, alive.
She made it to the doorway, pressed her back up against it. The two others with her also took up positions, one beside her, one on the other side of the opening. One of them - a Corporal whose name she still hadn't quite caught - peered fleetingly around the corner, and she followed suit. The larger group of Mandalorians, at least twelve all in all, had gathered in safe fire positions behind crates and ship-parts and stacks of armour plating, and were pressing slowly forward towards the stack of crates behind which she assumed Ben was hiding. From the angle they looked in on matters, they couldn't see him, but every few seconds, more of the azure bolts of energy blast forward from down the far side of one of the crates, and the Mandalorians pounded relentlessly on the collection of storage crates in retaliation. Above their head, a trio were relocating a large standing gun - one of the widespread and infinitely popular E-Web blasters, being shifted somewhere it might get a good angle on the stack of crates.
The Corporal caught her eye, lifting a long, cylindrical grenade, and made a quick set of hand gestures. She nodded, swinging her personal defence weapon down and drawing a grenade of her own. Together, they pulled the pin - she followed his lead in waited a count of two, then together, they stepped through the arch, and tossed their grenades underarm into the bulk of the Mandalorian group.
There was a shout, the Mandalorians turning first towards in order to look at, then she guessed away from in order to escape, the grenades, though she herself had ducked back out of line of sight. They detonated, a pair of subdued thump for the initial explosions, followed a series of staccato cracking noises, and the guttural, aggressive noises of abbreviated Mando'a curses. She stepped around the edge, snapped her weapon up towards the beam cage, and fired on the first Mandalorian she saw.
Her initial shots were tight on target, which she credited to the weapon in her hands more than her own skill. Though it was not as effective at longer range, the Anti-Personnel Weapon was light and a dream to control, and as her first group of four shots all found more-or-less the same mark in the middle of one Mandalorian's chest, she shifted her aim, and sprayed another burst at another Mandalorian, who dove back into a place of hiding behind a generator on the corner of the cage.
The Corporal was tight in next to her with his Assault Rifle, dropping two other Mandalorians in quick succession with pairs of headshots, before whipping his rifle up at the gantry and putting suppressing fire into the area around the E-Web, forcing the trio of Mandalorians setting it up to abandon the gun and seak cover for a moment. The third in their party followed up with a heavy pistol, turning on the group that they had hit with the grenades, to fire on the few that remained moving - the rest were encased in solid ice, the effects of the Cryoban grenades effectively restraining them, at least for now.
As a trio, they moved swiftly into the room, seeking their own cover, as the few enemies still standing started to gather themselves and return fire effectively. They found an item - the nose assemblage from an E-Wing, she thought - to duck in close to, granting them cover from most of the room. She squeezed a few more rounds off at a target, and ducked down properly.
She'd just killed two men, by her count - maybe more, depending on the effect of the Cryobans - which, despite her military status, jarred heavily with her. She knew it was necessary right now. She knew she was killing a few to theoretically save many, she knew that she was doing what was necessary to save herself. Even so, she was a Doctor. She should have been healing harm, not causing it.
She shook her head, brought her hand up to the comm-device on wrapped around her ear-cone.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
::Dragon Lead, this is Dragon Three. We have reached Hangar Twenty Seven, and are engaging the Mandalorians.::
She ducked away briefly, as some kind of Mandalorian rocket exploded nearby - Explosives? This close to the flight corridor hull?! These guys are crazy! - before spraying a few more bursts of laser fire back over their cover, then returning to her comm call. Her momentary pop-up had spotted more Mandalorians gathering on the gantries, and the E-Web was more-or-less set up and ready to start shooting.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
::We could definitely use reinforcements!::
She made it to the doorway, pressed her back up against it. The two others with her also took up positions, one beside her, one on the other side of the opening. One of them - a Corporal whose name she still hadn't quite caught - peered fleetingly around the corner, and she followed suit. The larger group of Mandalorians, at least twelve all in all, had gathered in safe fire positions behind crates and ship-parts and stacks of armour plating, and were pressing slowly forward towards the stack of crates behind which she assumed Ben was hiding. From the angle they looked in on matters, they couldn't see him, but every few seconds, more of the azure bolts of energy blast forward from down the far side of one of the crates, and the Mandalorians pounded relentlessly on the collection of storage crates in retaliation. Above their head, a trio were relocating a large standing gun - one of the widespread and infinitely popular E-Web blasters, being shifted somewhere it might get a good angle on the stack of crates.
The Corporal caught her eye, lifting a long, cylindrical grenade, and made a quick set of hand gestures. She nodded, swinging her personal defence weapon down and drawing a grenade of her own. Together, they pulled the pin - she followed his lead in waited a count of two, then together, they stepped through the arch, and tossed their grenades underarm into the bulk of the Mandalorian group.
There was a shout, the Mandalorians turning first towards in order to look at, then she guessed away from in order to escape, the grenades, though she herself had ducked back out of line of sight. They detonated, a pair of subdued thump for the initial explosions, followed a series of staccato cracking noises, and the guttural, aggressive noises of abbreviated Mando'a curses. She stepped around the edge, snapped her weapon up towards the beam cage, and fired on the first Mandalorian she saw.
Her initial shots were tight on target, which she credited to the weapon in her hands more than her own skill. Though it was not as effective at longer range, the Anti-Personnel Weapon was light and a dream to control, and as her first group of four shots all found more-or-less the same mark in the middle of one Mandalorian's chest, she shifted her aim, and sprayed another burst at another Mandalorian, who dove back into a place of hiding behind a generator on the corner of the cage.
The Corporal was tight in next to her with his Assault Rifle, dropping two other Mandalorians in quick succession with pairs of headshots, before whipping his rifle up at the gantry and putting suppressing fire into the area around the E-Web, forcing the trio of Mandalorians setting it up to abandon the gun and seak cover for a moment. The third in their party followed up with a heavy pistol, turning on the group that they had hit with the grenades, to fire on the few that remained moving - the rest were encased in solid ice, the effects of the Cryoban grenades effectively restraining them, at least for now.
As a trio, they moved swiftly into the room, seeking their own cover, as the few enemies still standing started to gather themselves and return fire effectively. They found an item - the nose assemblage from an E-Wing, she thought - to duck in close to, granting them cover from most of the room. She squeezed a few more rounds off at a target, and ducked down properly.
She'd just killed two men, by her count - maybe more, depending on the effect of the Cryobans - which, despite her military status, jarred heavily with her. She knew it was necessary right now. She knew she was killing a few to theoretically save many, she knew that she was doing what was necessary to save herself. Even so, she was a Doctor. She should have been healing harm, not causing it.
She shook her head, brought her hand up to the comm-device on wrapped around her ear-cone.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
::Dragon Lead, this is Dragon Three. We have reached Hangar Twenty Seven, and are engaging the Mandalorians.::
She ducked away briefly, as some kind of Mandalorian rocket exploded nearby - Explosives? This close to the flight corridor hull?! These guys are crazy! - before spraying a few more bursts of laser fire back over their cover, then returning to her comm call. Her momentary pop-up had spotted more Mandalorians gathering on the gantries, and the E-Web was more-or-less set up and ready to start shooting.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
::We could definitely use reinforcements!::
Re: Yavin Station
~ I'm going to die. This is how I die.
Ben clung tightly to his firearm, unable to keep his back against the cargo crates anymore. The Durasteel was melting under the barrage of superheated plasma that kept impacting against it. Soon, the cover would be destroyed, and that would be it for him.
He was scared. He was so, so scared. His teeth were grit, knuckles white on the blaster as he kept forcing himself to stand up and return fire. Even with Sarha, the Twi’lek doctor that had saved his life on the first day of this Hell, there to help him, he could not fight back his fear. He wasn’t a soldier! He wasn’t a warrior, not trained for this, not prepared for this.
And yet, as he saw Doctor Vao stuck in the same situation as him, blaster in hands as if she had been born for this, Ben could only wonder how she managed to grit her teeth and fight back with no moments of panic like this, no crippling chest seizures that nearly robbed him of the ability to act. Maybe that’s why she was the Doctor, and he was just the person who answered the commo.
Damnit, damnit, damnit!
Another bolt above his head. The crates were scorching now, easily able to sear flesh if he so much as touched them. Ben risked popping up again to fire a few haphazard shots at the gantries, trying to delay that turret, but the suppressive fire that rocked his position in immediate response silenced him.
He thought he had spied the burnt-orange hair of Felicity with Sarha. Felicity Autan, his partner in the Comm Center. And, he had hoped, something moving towards more, before this all went to absolute shit. Now he was less concerned about the ring he had bought on Chandrila and more about whether or not he was even going to see her again in the next five minutes.
But there she was, it was her. Pistol barking away, slugging another Mando in the chest piece to knock him on his back. She scowled and shouted. Angry. Very angry. Her brother had been aboard the Station when it was attacked, Diego. A commando. A badass that very much frightened young, wiry Ben.
They still hadn’t found him. Felicity had only gotten more desperate with each passing day, and now that desperation was heard in the sound of her heavy blaster, plugging away relentlessly whenever she could spare getting up.
But they were pinned. A rocket, a forcedamned explosive went off nearby, and Ben briefly considered that being vented into the vacuum might at least be quick compared to what the Mandos would do to them.
No. Not this time. Not here.
Ben Urlano, Communications Officer, steeled his resolve, took several, deep breaths of the burned, ionized air, and stood.
His sights found the Mando with the wrist-launcher, and he laid into him. The trigger was held down and the Carbine was switched into Full-Auto, initiating a horrendous spray of semi-accurate fire to try and at least get these bastards to duck, run, anything.
For his trouble, he received a swift and sudden punch to his chest. The air was knocked out of him, his figure crumpling down to his back. It was … hard to breathe. Something was burned. He was … confused. Why was he on the ground? What had happened?
He looked up towards the gantry, thinking he saw a solid beam of light, the purest indigo he had ever witnessed, moving through the Mandalorians. Ah, but that was foolish.
Light didn’t freeze like that. And he was tired. Very, very tired. His fingertips tried to curl around the pistol-grip of his carbine, but the struggle was so hard. Maybe, just maybe, he should rest.
He had crawled through the vent as quickly as possible. They were stuck using these small ducts and crawlspaces to move around YS1 and, frankly, it struck a nerve with Knight Navi. Said air shafts were clearly not designed with his Iridonian frame in mind.
The sounds of blaster fire ahead only encouraged him to push faster, Sarha shouting into his ear for backup. Things must have gone quickly south after Ben had been spotted. Karada was only thankful that the Doctor and her team were close by, but damnit, he should have been closer.
The Zabrak scrambled up against the exit to the vent, above Hangar 27, and his twin-hearts raced at the sight. Battle. The brave Rebels taking the fight to their oppressors with fire and ice. He reminded himself to applaud Dr. Vao for suggesting turning some of their cryo medical supplies into explosives: they certainly were proving their worth.
He gathered the Force to him, concentrating as the rush of wind signaling an explosion went off in the Bay. He felt no Death, and so did not let it distract him. Positioned above the Mandos getting their E-WEB into place, Karada curled the metal fingers of his right hand around the hilt of his saber, stretching out the opposite arm and placing the palm on the vent’s grate.
There Is No Chaos.
The grate exploded into the room, spinning and whirling into one of the Mandalorians on the catwalk. It catapulted the poor man over the railing and down below. The heavy armor he wore surely made that descent feel much, much quicker.
In a flash, Karada Navi leapt from the vent, flying through the air and igniting his indigo blade. He landed on the gantry and mowed down the first to approach him with a clean swipe of the saber, only to have the strike against the third blocked. His saber flared and flickered, and then died. The long-haired Zabrak glowered at his opponent who brandished a silvery blade, figuring the metal for some Cortosis alloy.
Thinking he had the upper hand, the Mandalorian meant to cleave the Jedi from head to groin, exclaiming a blessing to Kad as he swung. Karada deftly dodged the dismembering blow, sending his left fist into the warriors helmet once, twice, three times, making his opponent reel from the strength of an Iridonian warrior’s punch. The saber was clipped back to his belt and the metal hand shot out to grab the Mando’s weapon wrist.
He squeezed. And squeezed. Until he heard the man shriek in pain, the crackling and breaking of bone. The cortosis sword fell from his grip and he, too, went sailing over the gantry, propelled as much by the Force as by the Zabrak’s mechanical appendage.
He felt a sharp pain through The Force; a sudden, jarring experience that made his hearts stutter for the briefest moment. Someone was injured. Not dead, but hurt. Badly. Black eyes scanned below until he saw that only Ben was not fighting back. Something had happened, but the Good Doctor was pinned down.
Wasting no time, Karada checked the E-WEB. It was primed, generator hot. Disengaging the safety, he used his superxeno strength, with help from his prosthetic, to wrench the gun emplacement from its mount, breaking the bolts off. The high-powered weapon began to bark in short, sustained bursts, leveraging heavy firepower on the Mandalorians from above.
Karada’s face remained stone-cold as the weapon ripped into cover, mechanical parts, and armor, hoping that the bright distraction of a Jetiise with a gun emplacement walking back and forth on the catwalk to direct red-hot death from every angle was enough to give Vao and her team time to seize this hangar bay. ~
Ben clung tightly to his firearm, unable to keep his back against the cargo crates anymore. The Durasteel was melting under the barrage of superheated plasma that kept impacting against it. Soon, the cover would be destroyed, and that would be it for him.
He was scared. He was so, so scared. His teeth were grit, knuckles white on the blaster as he kept forcing himself to stand up and return fire. Even with Sarha, the Twi’lek doctor that had saved his life on the first day of this Hell, there to help him, he could not fight back his fear. He wasn’t a soldier! He wasn’t a warrior, not trained for this, not prepared for this.
And yet, as he saw Doctor Vao stuck in the same situation as him, blaster in hands as if she had been born for this, Ben could only wonder how she managed to grit her teeth and fight back with no moments of panic like this, no crippling chest seizures that nearly robbed him of the ability to act. Maybe that’s why she was the Doctor, and he was just the person who answered the commo.
Damnit, damnit, damnit!
Another bolt above his head. The crates were scorching now, easily able to sear flesh if he so much as touched them. Ben risked popping up again to fire a few haphazard shots at the gantries, trying to delay that turret, but the suppressive fire that rocked his position in immediate response silenced him.
He thought he had spied the burnt-orange hair of Felicity with Sarha. Felicity Autan, his partner in the Comm Center. And, he had hoped, something moving towards more, before this all went to absolute shit. Now he was less concerned about the ring he had bought on Chandrila and more about whether or not he was even going to see her again in the next five minutes.
But there she was, it was her. Pistol barking away, slugging another Mando in the chest piece to knock him on his back. She scowled and shouted. Angry. Very angry. Her brother had been aboard the Station when it was attacked, Diego. A commando. A badass that very much frightened young, wiry Ben.
They still hadn’t found him. Felicity had only gotten more desperate with each passing day, and now that desperation was heard in the sound of her heavy blaster, plugging away relentlessly whenever she could spare getting up.
But they were pinned. A rocket, a forcedamned explosive went off nearby, and Ben briefly considered that being vented into the vacuum might at least be quick compared to what the Mandos would do to them.
No. Not this time. Not here.
Ben Urlano, Communications Officer, steeled his resolve, took several, deep breaths of the burned, ionized air, and stood.
His sights found the Mando with the wrist-launcher, and he laid into him. The trigger was held down and the Carbine was switched into Full-Auto, initiating a horrendous spray of semi-accurate fire to try and at least get these bastards to duck, run, anything.
For his trouble, he received a swift and sudden punch to his chest. The air was knocked out of him, his figure crumpling down to his back. It was … hard to breathe. Something was burned. He was … confused. Why was he on the ground? What had happened?
He looked up towards the gantry, thinking he saw a solid beam of light, the purest indigo he had ever witnessed, moving through the Mandalorians. Ah, but that was foolish.
Light didn’t freeze like that. And he was tired. Very, very tired. His fingertips tried to curl around the pistol-grip of his carbine, but the struggle was so hard. Maybe, just maybe, he should rest.
He had crawled through the vent as quickly as possible. They were stuck using these small ducts and crawlspaces to move around YS1 and, frankly, it struck a nerve with Knight Navi. Said air shafts were clearly not designed with his Iridonian frame in mind.
The sounds of blaster fire ahead only encouraged him to push faster, Sarha shouting into his ear for backup. Things must have gone quickly south after Ben had been spotted. Karada was only thankful that the Doctor and her team were close by, but damnit, he should have been closer.
The Zabrak scrambled up against the exit to the vent, above Hangar 27, and his twin-hearts raced at the sight. Battle. The brave Rebels taking the fight to their oppressors with fire and ice. He reminded himself to applaud Dr. Vao for suggesting turning some of their cryo medical supplies into explosives: they certainly were proving their worth.
He gathered the Force to him, concentrating as the rush of wind signaling an explosion went off in the Bay. He felt no Death, and so did not let it distract him. Positioned above the Mandos getting their E-WEB into place, Karada curled the metal fingers of his right hand around the hilt of his saber, stretching out the opposite arm and placing the palm on the vent’s grate.
There Is No Chaos.
The grate exploded into the room, spinning and whirling into one of the Mandalorians on the catwalk. It catapulted the poor man over the railing and down below. The heavy armor he wore surely made that descent feel much, much quicker.
In a flash, Karada Navi leapt from the vent, flying through the air and igniting his indigo blade. He landed on the gantry and mowed down the first to approach him with a clean swipe of the saber, only to have the strike against the third blocked. His saber flared and flickered, and then died. The long-haired Zabrak glowered at his opponent who brandished a silvery blade, figuring the metal for some Cortosis alloy.
Thinking he had the upper hand, the Mandalorian meant to cleave the Jedi from head to groin, exclaiming a blessing to Kad as he swung. Karada deftly dodged the dismembering blow, sending his left fist into the warriors helmet once, twice, three times, making his opponent reel from the strength of an Iridonian warrior’s punch. The saber was clipped back to his belt and the metal hand shot out to grab the Mando’s weapon wrist.
He squeezed. And squeezed. Until he heard the man shriek in pain, the crackling and breaking of bone. The cortosis sword fell from his grip and he, too, went sailing over the gantry, propelled as much by the Force as by the Zabrak’s mechanical appendage.
He felt a sharp pain through The Force; a sudden, jarring experience that made his hearts stutter for the briefest moment. Someone was injured. Not dead, but hurt. Badly. Black eyes scanned below until he saw that only Ben was not fighting back. Something had happened, but the Good Doctor was pinned down.
Wasting no time, Karada checked the E-WEB. It was primed, generator hot. Disengaging the safety, he used his superxeno strength, with help from his prosthetic, to wrench the gun emplacement from its mount, breaking the bolts off. The high-powered weapon began to bark in short, sustained bursts, leveraging heavy firepower on the Mandalorians from above.
Karada’s face remained stone-cold as the weapon ripped into cover, mechanical parts, and armor, hoping that the bright distraction of a Jetiise with a gun emplacement walking back and forth on the catwalk to direct red-hot death from every angle was enough to give Vao and her team time to seize this hangar bay. ~
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Ronan Starflare
- TORPEDO!
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 2:34 am
Re: Yavin Station
"Oh no you don't."
Staff Sergeant Caroline Besand hefted her long rifle and blinked her left eye twice. The zoom function of the helmet quickly integrated itself into the rifle's optics, her viewpoint rocketing in to ten times her normal field of view. She held her breath only for a second before finding T-visor and twice depressing the trigger.
Twin bolt of blue laserlight lanced out from her position in one of the higher-up service corridors, cracking the Mandalorian in the head before his corpse fell over the gantry railing. She whispered, a smile cracking across her lips.
"Nighty night."
He'd been about to activate another E-Web turret, but Caroline wouldn't have it. She dropped her gaze only a titch and fired again, aiming at the connecting bolts that held the big gun to its tripod. The blaster clattered to the ground. One-arming the rifle, she raised two fingers the side of her helmet.
::Dragons this is Five, turrets are down. Engaging remaining hostiles::
Gripping the rifle with both hands once again, she searched for next target.
Corporal Dayvehd Washenton raised his rifle, firmly planting the butt of it in the crook of his shoulder. He thumbed the switch over to triple-burst-fire and opened up.
"Now!"
There was a myriad of Mandalorians putting blaster bolts around the room, though they quickly focused their fire on the general vicinity from where his battlecry originated from.
"No wait, not now!"
He thought he heard Doctor Vao mutter something like "Come on" through the comm piece in his ear, but he couldn't be sure. A few more burst fires from cover dissuaded the Mandalorians if only for a second, long enough for Dayvehd to rush out to Ben's position, skidding the final few feet on his knees, small sparks flying as metal scraped metal.
A quick glance told the young man all he needed to know.
"Doc, get out here! I'll cover!"
A short hop and Corporal Washenton was up against the back of some crates, huddling behind their safety, though "safety" was relative here. He popped his head out once more, blinked twice, and scoped some more Mandalorians. Blue light lanced from the tip of his rifle once again.
Staff Sergeant Caroline Besand hefted her long rifle and blinked her left eye twice. The zoom function of the helmet quickly integrated itself into the rifle's optics, her viewpoint rocketing in to ten times her normal field of view. She held her breath only for a second before finding T-visor and twice depressing the trigger.
Twin bolt of blue laserlight lanced out from her position in one of the higher-up service corridors, cracking the Mandalorian in the head before his corpse fell over the gantry railing. She whispered, a smile cracking across her lips.
"Nighty night."
He'd been about to activate another E-Web turret, but Caroline wouldn't have it. She dropped her gaze only a titch and fired again, aiming at the connecting bolts that held the big gun to its tripod. The blaster clattered to the ground. One-arming the rifle, she raised two fingers the side of her helmet.
::Dragons this is Five, turrets are down. Engaging remaining hostiles::
Gripping the rifle with both hands once again, she searched for next target.
Corporal Dayvehd Washenton raised his rifle, firmly planting the butt of it in the crook of his shoulder. He thumbed the switch over to triple-burst-fire and opened up.
"Now!"
There was a myriad of Mandalorians putting blaster bolts around the room, though they quickly focused their fire on the general vicinity from where his battlecry originated from.
"No wait, not now!"
He thought he heard Doctor Vao mutter something like "Come on" through the comm piece in his ear, but he couldn't be sure. A few more burst fires from cover dissuaded the Mandalorians if only for a second, long enough for Dayvehd to rush out to Ben's position, skidding the final few feet on his knees, small sparks flying as metal scraped metal.
A quick glance told the young man all he needed to know.
"Doc, get out here! I'll cover!"
A short hop and Corporal Washenton was up against the back of some crates, huddling behind their safety, though "safety" was relative here. He popped his head out once more, blinked twice, and scoped some more Mandalorians. Blue light lanced from the tip of his rifle once again.
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Dav Man'Sell
- Jedi Battlemaster
- Posts: 342
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 12:18 am
Re: Yavin Station
She marvelled, just for a moment, at the Jedi above their head. Even when his Lightsaber went down, the Iridonian was not done. Mando after Mando went over the railing, dropping to the deck below - and then he started shooting with a goddamn E-Web.
Sarha had to confess that she was somewhat impressed.
It gave them the opening they needed, and after one aborted false-start, they finally managed to cross the hangar to Ben. When the Corporal called her over, she came up from her cover, behind a stack of disused - and by the looks of them, fried - computer memory drives, squeezing off a few more bursts of fire, and crossed to the where the Corporal knelt next to Ben.
And he was not in a great way.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
"Skrag, he's lung-shot."
She knelt by his side, one hand slapping down one of the med-kit cases that were attached to the small of her back, and flipping it open, the other checking Ben's pulse quickly, before moving to press a sterile medi-pad dressing to the site of his wound. She frowned as he took a short, rasping breath - her eye met, briefly, with Felicity's, where Sarha could see fear and concern - before she reached into the pack, and grabbed out a auscultation sensor. She pressed it to his chest, and grabbed the receiver, attaching it to the comm mounting around her ear cone, and grimacing.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
"He's got a tension pneumothorax. Get comfortable, it's going to be a couple of minutes before we can move out."
Sarha had to confess that she was somewhat impressed.
It gave them the opening they needed, and after one aborted false-start, they finally managed to cross the hangar to Ben. When the Corporal called her over, she came up from her cover, behind a stack of disused - and by the looks of them, fried - computer memory drives, squeezing off a few more bursts of fire, and crossed to the where the Corporal knelt next to Ben.
And he was not in a great way.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
"Skrag, he's lung-shot."
She knelt by his side, one hand slapping down one of the med-kit cases that were attached to the small of her back, and flipping it open, the other checking Ben's pulse quickly, before moving to press a sterile medi-pad dressing to the site of his wound. She frowned as he took a short, rasping breath - her eye met, briefly, with Felicity's, where Sarha could see fear and concern - before she reached into the pack, and grabbed out a auscultation sensor. She pressed it to his chest, and grabbed the receiver, attaching it to the comm mounting around her ear cone, and grimacing.
=Dr. Sarha Vao=
"He's got a tension pneumothorax. Get comfortable, it's going to be a couple of minutes before we can move out."
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Ronan Starflare
- TORPEDO!
- Posts: 94
- Joined: Thu Nov 14, 2013 2:34 am
Re: Yavin Station
"I'll see if I can't hold them off then!"
Dayvehd raised the rifle over his and pointed it round towards the open part of the hangar, depressing the rifle's trigger with his thumb and keeping an eye on the motion sensor in the bottom corner of his Heads-Up-Display. The rifle shuddered in his unsteady grip, rocking back and forth, side to side.
::You hear that, Caroline? Keep us covered!::
She heard him alright. Damn that Urlano boy anyhnow. Now Dayvehd and Doctor Vao were pinned down there with diminishing cover and wounded.
However her glance was drawn in another direction though as Master Navi was mowing down Mandalorian guardsmen with his appropriated weapon. This war was bringing out the creativity in everyone. She depressed the trigger on her long rifle again, popping one jetpack-wearing enemy right between where his shoulder blades should have been. Sparks flew as she heard his screams plummet toward the hangar bay floor, ending with a metallic thud.
::Will do, Wash. I got your six.::
Dayvehd raised the rifle over his and pointed it round towards the open part of the hangar, depressing the rifle's trigger with his thumb and keeping an eye on the motion sensor in the bottom corner of his Heads-Up-Display. The rifle shuddered in his unsteady grip, rocking back and forth, side to side.
::You hear that, Caroline? Keep us covered!::
She heard him alright. Damn that Urlano boy anyhnow. Now Dayvehd and Doctor Vao were pinned down there with diminishing cover and wounded.
However her glance was drawn in another direction though as Master Navi was mowing down Mandalorian guardsmen with his appropriated weapon. This war was bringing out the creativity in everyone. She depressed the trigger on her long rifle again, popping one jetpack-wearing enemy right between where his shoulder blades should have been. Sparks flew as she heard his screams plummet toward the hangar bay floor, ending with a metallic thud.
::Will do, Wash. I got your six.::
Re: Yavin Station
The E-WEB felt natural in his large hands, The Force a swirling cyclone through his every cell to keep Karada's muscles from realizing just how heavy the gun emplacement was. The rest of the team was performing admirably: Ben's injury was unfortunate, but Knight Navi had enough faith in Doctor Vao's abilities. The kid would pull through.
More blasterfire came from below him, silenced suddenly by Caroline's superb marksmanship. The Zabrak responded in kind by finally leveraging the cannon in his claws at the generators that were powering the force fields in which the prisoners were contained. The lust for battle was quelled by a brief moment of insight: Blowing up a generator was not a wise idea, or so The Force told him. With that in mind, the abused turret barked the last of its energy and blew apart the electrical wiring that connected the power source to the field projectors. They whirred silently at the lack of energy, flickered, and finally the translucent, golden sheets fell completely.
A skiffer had just been thrown into the sabacc deck. Everything went wild as the recently-freed prisoners threw themselves at the Mandalorians that remained, overpowering their captors through sheer numbers if need be, wrenching blasters, stunners, and blades from their beskar hands and turning them on their former owners. If anything, it bought Sarha, Dayvehd, and Felicity a little more time to save Ben's life. He, like a fiend possessed, threw the depowered E-WEB down below, his excessive force making the gun impact hard and break against another Mandalorian's thick helmet. Karada drew his saber once more, the blade springing to life finally, and threw himself over the catwalk to protect the prisoners.
:: We have what we came for! :: he shouted over Dragon Team's comms as he gutted another individual whom had only come prepared with durasteel for a chest guard, :: Begin a fighting withdrawal - Get these prisoners out of here, Plan Crystal Snake! Do it no-- ::
The Zabrak was cut off as a bolt pierced through his shoulder, fired from above. The Comms Tower of this particular bay: a few of the Mandos had set up on the entry ramp into the tower, just far enough out of sight that the rest of Dragon Team wouldn't be able to strike them without exposing themselves. Smart.
Another hail of blasterfire sent Karada scrambling in front of the prisoners, wildly batting the crimson lances away with his indigo sword.
:: Go! ::
" Come on, Ben ..."
Felicity Autan couldn't help but watch over Sarha's attempts to heal her incapacitated partner. While Dayvehd was showing just how much he could soldier (the answer was apparently "A lot"), Felicity gripped her APW tighter and kept her back to their cover. For only the briefest of moments would she peek out, empty the clip of the rapid-firing blaster in the blink of an eye at the closest targets she could find, and then duck back to reload. Hells, she was a Comm Officer, her brother was the trooper! She had failed the damn admissions test for Fleet Officer School more times than she could count by this point. Combat made her freeze. It almost always had. Yet, when it was finally thrust upon her, upon the entire Station, she was suddenly finding it a little bit easier to manage. With each Mandalorian she brought down, maybe she was getting closer to her sibling.
That frightened her. Those thoughts.
She stuck with Sarha, doing what she could to force the Mandalorian defenders (wait, weren't they the defenders?) into Dayvehd and Caroline's crosshairs, all to deadly effect. The small sub-autoblaster in her hands was perfect for these kinds of close-quarters assignments, something she had come to realize over the course of a dozen or so of these little raids. However, when the prison field fell and Karada gave the word to retreat, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Until she saw that the Jedi was struck.
" Oh no."
She gripped the little blaster harder. Knuckles white as she fought with herself. She could see where the fire was coming from, but she couldn't see the shooters. Karada had already bailed most of them out once or twice by his lonesome already. He may have been a Jedi, but right now he was the best chance of those prisoners getting away from the gunfire. Felicity looked to Doctor Vao, looked down to her dear Ben, and took in a deep breath.
" I'll be back. Dayvehd! Help the Doc get Ben out of here!"
Before anyone could stop her, Felicity lunged out from behind their makeshift barricade. She hoped she was only imagining the shots ringing off of the floor behind her as she dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged her way over to the base of the bay comm tower. Silently blessing Caroline whom had surely protected her hustle, Felicity peered up at the structure, built directly into the wall.
Reaching to her belt, She procured a piton attachment and placed it into her blaster. The weapon read the new accessory and adjusted as Felicity Autan, Communications Officer, fired the little dart at a point just above the tower windows. The cable ascended quickly, something she did not compensate for and so was crushed into the side of the wall, bruising something but not slowing her down.
Through the window she now had her boots braced on, Felicity could see that the Mandalorians were not paying her attention (thank the Force). Without time for subtlety, Felicity gripped a rail just above her head, detached the piton from her weapon, and leveled it at the glass. The first round melted and shattered the window in an instant, her forward weight sending her toppling into the room (and receiving a few chunks of those same shards into her hand). Biting her sleeve to muffle the sharp cry of pain, the former Comm Officer did her best to brace the gun at her targets and, then, thought better. A small orb was procured from her belt, primed, held for a few moments, and then rolled along the floor towards the ramp and the Mandos upon it.
Felicity threw herself under a nearby terminal desk and covered her ears as best she could. The tiny disk missed its mark, but not enough to throw it off: a loud, dull, thrumming explosion reverberated from outside the tower, spreading in a fast moving orb of pure sound. Sonic grenades, though technically considered less-than-lethal, certainly packed a wallop. The Mandalorian sharpshooters were thrown into the wall, over the ramp's railing, down the incline, all of them bearing some impressive dents in their armor. One fell into the Comm Tower itself, leading to Felicity unslinging her weapon when, all of a sudden, the comm went off.
:: Alor'adade, ibic cuyi Beviin Solus. Vi gana me'sen ven'slana par Jetiise Me'suum'ika, taap naas-naas-bal-tad-e'tad. Vi oya'kari, ke'liniba majyc'verde. Ke'gayiyli te miit bat Tra'yaim! ::
She didn't understand a word of it, but she knew it was the enemy. The enemy using their comms, their systems to do this to them. For some reason, that angered her more than it should have. She strode up to the controls, jammed them with her good hand to open the band, and shouted into them.
" Can it, you Adopted Karkwit! I’m trying to kill your stepbrothers here! Long Live The Alliance!"
The APW hosed down the controls, preventing them from being used again. The downed Mandalorian in the room suddenly sprang to life and lurched at her, causing Felicity to jump and turn the blaster on him. The rapid fire eventually punched through the durasteel plating of his armor, sending him collapsing back to the floor. With no time to think or react otherwise, Felicity charged out of the room, towards the ramp, past the downed Mandalorians, and towards the prisoners.
" Let's move, people! Go, go! Crystal Snake, boss' orders!"
More blasterfire came from below him, silenced suddenly by Caroline's superb marksmanship. The Zabrak responded in kind by finally leveraging the cannon in his claws at the generators that were powering the force fields in which the prisoners were contained. The lust for battle was quelled by a brief moment of insight: Blowing up a generator was not a wise idea, or so The Force told him. With that in mind, the abused turret barked the last of its energy and blew apart the electrical wiring that connected the power source to the field projectors. They whirred silently at the lack of energy, flickered, and finally the translucent, golden sheets fell completely.
A skiffer had just been thrown into the sabacc deck. Everything went wild as the recently-freed prisoners threw themselves at the Mandalorians that remained, overpowering their captors through sheer numbers if need be, wrenching blasters, stunners, and blades from their beskar hands and turning them on their former owners. If anything, it bought Sarha, Dayvehd, and Felicity a little more time to save Ben's life. He, like a fiend possessed, threw the depowered E-WEB down below, his excessive force making the gun impact hard and break against another Mandalorian's thick helmet. Karada drew his saber once more, the blade springing to life finally, and threw himself over the catwalk to protect the prisoners.
:: We have what we came for! :: he shouted over Dragon Team's comms as he gutted another individual whom had only come prepared with durasteel for a chest guard, :: Begin a fighting withdrawal - Get these prisoners out of here, Plan Crystal Snake! Do it no-- ::
The Zabrak was cut off as a bolt pierced through his shoulder, fired from above. The Comms Tower of this particular bay: a few of the Mandos had set up on the entry ramp into the tower, just far enough out of sight that the rest of Dragon Team wouldn't be able to strike them without exposing themselves. Smart.
Another hail of blasterfire sent Karada scrambling in front of the prisoners, wildly batting the crimson lances away with his indigo sword.
:: Go! ::
" Come on, Ben ..."
Felicity Autan couldn't help but watch over Sarha's attempts to heal her incapacitated partner. While Dayvehd was showing just how much he could soldier (the answer was apparently "A lot"), Felicity gripped her APW tighter and kept her back to their cover. For only the briefest of moments would she peek out, empty the clip of the rapid-firing blaster in the blink of an eye at the closest targets she could find, and then duck back to reload. Hells, she was a Comm Officer, her brother was the trooper! She had failed the damn admissions test for Fleet Officer School more times than she could count by this point. Combat made her freeze. It almost always had. Yet, when it was finally thrust upon her, upon the entire Station, she was suddenly finding it a little bit easier to manage. With each Mandalorian she brought down, maybe she was getting closer to her sibling.
That frightened her. Those thoughts.
She stuck with Sarha, doing what she could to force the Mandalorian defenders (wait, weren't they the defenders?) into Dayvehd and Caroline's crosshairs, all to deadly effect. The small sub-autoblaster in her hands was perfect for these kinds of close-quarters assignments, something she had come to realize over the course of a dozen or so of these little raids. However, when the prison field fell and Karada gave the word to retreat, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Until she saw that the Jedi was struck.
" Oh no."
She gripped the little blaster harder. Knuckles white as she fought with herself. She could see where the fire was coming from, but she couldn't see the shooters. Karada had already bailed most of them out once or twice by his lonesome already. He may have been a Jedi, but right now he was the best chance of those prisoners getting away from the gunfire. Felicity looked to Doctor Vao, looked down to her dear Ben, and took in a deep breath.
" I'll be back. Dayvehd! Help the Doc get Ben out of here!"
Before anyone could stop her, Felicity lunged out from behind their makeshift barricade. She hoped she was only imagining the shots ringing off of the floor behind her as she dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and dodged her way over to the base of the bay comm tower. Silently blessing Caroline whom had surely protected her hustle, Felicity peered up at the structure, built directly into the wall.
Reaching to her belt, She procured a piton attachment and placed it into her blaster. The weapon read the new accessory and adjusted as Felicity Autan, Communications Officer, fired the little dart at a point just above the tower windows. The cable ascended quickly, something she did not compensate for and so was crushed into the side of the wall, bruising something but not slowing her down.
Through the window she now had her boots braced on, Felicity could see that the Mandalorians were not paying her attention (thank the Force). Without time for subtlety, Felicity gripped a rail just above her head, detached the piton from her weapon, and leveled it at the glass. The first round melted and shattered the window in an instant, her forward weight sending her toppling into the room (and receiving a few chunks of those same shards into her hand). Biting her sleeve to muffle the sharp cry of pain, the former Comm Officer did her best to brace the gun at her targets and, then, thought better. A small orb was procured from her belt, primed, held for a few moments, and then rolled along the floor towards the ramp and the Mandos upon it.
Felicity threw herself under a nearby terminal desk and covered her ears as best she could. The tiny disk missed its mark, but not enough to throw it off: a loud, dull, thrumming explosion reverberated from outside the tower, spreading in a fast moving orb of pure sound. Sonic grenades, though technically considered less-than-lethal, certainly packed a wallop. The Mandalorian sharpshooters were thrown into the wall, over the ramp's railing, down the incline, all of them bearing some impressive dents in their armor. One fell into the Comm Tower itself, leading to Felicity unslinging her weapon when, all of a sudden, the comm went off.
:: Alor'adade, ibic cuyi Beviin Solus. Vi gana me'sen ven'slana par Jetiise Me'suum'ika, taap naas-naas-bal-tad-e'tad. Vi oya'kari, ke'liniba majyc'verde. Ke'gayiyli te miit bat Tra'yaim! ::
She didn't understand a word of it, but she knew it was the enemy. The enemy using their comms, their systems to do this to them. For some reason, that angered her more than it should have. She strode up to the controls, jammed them with her good hand to open the band, and shouted into them.
" Can it, you Adopted Karkwit! I’m trying to kill your stepbrothers here! Long Live The Alliance!"
The APW hosed down the controls, preventing them from being used again. The downed Mandalorian in the room suddenly sprang to life and lurched at her, causing Felicity to jump and turn the blaster on him. The rapid fire eventually punched through the durasteel plating of his armor, sending him collapsing back to the floor. With no time to think or react otherwise, Felicity charged out of the room, towards the ramp, past the downed Mandalorians, and towards the prisoners.
" Let's move, people! Go, go! Crystal Snake, boss' orders!"
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