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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 4, 2016 16:18:05 GMT -5
Ervisa Therani rolled her eyes. Not at anybody particularly, but mostly at the universe in general. The ridiculous universe that had, after she'd had to bolt from a Hutt with neckbeard, seen fit to take her excellent payday and her nondescript passage aboard a large freighter had decided to run into trouble. Specifically, trouble of the Imperial kind. There was something exasperating about the Empire, no matter what you did, the damn thing managed to find you and become a pain in the ass faster than you could say 'Palpatine's Porn-stache.'
Which she didn't recommend. They were touchy about that sort of thing.
The worst part of it was that they'd left Christophsis for Eriadu, on a ship that had seemed completely legal to Ervisa. The shipmaster was from Naboo, what was more legitimate than Naboo? Well, Chandrila. Still though. It was absolute bullshit logic that had let the Empire to stop the ship. Their patrol ship had landed, and boarded. From what Ervisa could tell, there were two stormtroopers and ten Naval troopers, plus one Lieutenant who looked like a real asshole. Their ship was a Gozanti, which Ervisa recalled wasn't exactly top of the line Imperial equipment. More widely-dispersed, inexpensive, and functional. Also she seemed to recall, three people on the bridge. Four if it was Imperial, they'd never put the Big Cheese Lord High Executioner Poobah in the position of having to work two jobs to pay the mortgage.
Figure like six gunners, and that meant the ship probably had 22 Imperials to deal with. And right now, Ervisa was definitely considering 'dealing with it' to be the best bet for reasons that were now abundantly apparent.
Namely the fact that trooper 1 had decided to shove her face into a bulkhead while trooper 2 was frisking her. And enjoying it a little too much at that.
Normally the Mirialan woman wore tank tops and skin. Being as that didn't advertise 'normal Mirialan,' she'd opted to cover the ink and the holstered blaster with one of the typical flowing robe-type things, complete with hood. That might have been a mistake, as trooper 2 pulled her blaster out and held it accusingly in front of her eyes.
"Well look here, concealing a deadly weapon eh? That's a Class G Misdemeanor in a Restriction Zone."
"What's a restriction zone?" Ervisa replied coyly.
Trooper 1 pointed his blaster at her. "This."
It was a very direct route taken to the holding area in the Gozanti. It was basically an area of the cargo bay that had been narrowed down with metal walls, and inset was a forcefield. It lowered, and Ervisa joined the other captives, chief among them a shifty Rodian and a Wookiee. Ervisa looked over at the big walking carpet, and tried to remember Shyriwook. She'd picked up a little bit of it understood a while ago. She even brushed up periodically. She had no Huttese though, and that meant the Rodian had better speak Basic.
"Yo, duckface, you speak Basic?"
"Nobata, no bata tu tu."
"Great," Ervisa sighed, and threw back the hood. No point in the whole anonymity thing now anyway. "All right big dude, please tell me you're not one of those Wookiees who doesn't speak Shyriwook? Also go slow, I'm rusty as shit now."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2016 23:19:37 GMT -5
More than a decade of wandering the spacelanes, of jumping from one crew to another, and one ship to another. Of keeping one step, and one arm’s length, away from the center of civilization of the galaxy. And yet, this was the first time that Gaarchiir had ever been stopped by the Galactic Empire. Of course, he figured that his luck had to run out sometime soon. The Wookiee just thought that it would’ve been much sooner. Little did he know or suspect that his luck would end on a simple jump from Christophsis to Eriadu, near the Outer Rim of all places.
As to why exactly the Empire had stopped the freighter, Gaarchiir wasn’t sure. But the Wookiee was pretty sure that the cause rested somewhere between ‘boredom’ and the Imperials ‘feeling like it’. It wasn’t like the bulk freighter was hiding something illegal. From the impression Gaarchiir had received of the captain of the bulk freighter, the man would never allow anything the Imperials deemed contraband onboard.
Then again, in this Galaxy, you never knew anymore. Gaarchiir just liked to keep his big, black, wet nose out of everyone’s business. But no one liked keeping their nose out of his. The drawback of being a Wookiee.
“What are we gunna do with this… Thing?”
One of the stormtroopers piped up, as the only two onboard the Gozanti were tasked with escorting Gaarchiir.
“Put him in the back with the others. The Avenger can sort him out when it gets here. If he gets too rowdy, we’ll let him be. No real loss if he hurts himself or the other prisoners.”
Typical Imperial attitude towards his kind, thinking that Wookiees were nothing but brutish savages. Shoulders slumped, Gaarchiir was walked to the back of the ship, and put in some sort of large pen that looked like it had been constructed in haste, in the cargo bay. Watching over his shoulder, the Wookiee spotted a Naval Trooper putting weapons in a locker, confiscated from the freighter. Among them was Gaarchiir’s bowcaster and ryyk blade.
As the Wookiee was deposited in the pen, he looked around. The crew of the freighter was being detained on their ship. The Imperials had brought the passengers onboard the Gozanti. Namely a Rodian, Gaarchiir himself, and a woman, if he remembered correctly. Almost as if on cue as the Wookiee was taking a head count, a Mirialan woman entered the pen, clad in a hooded robe, with one part of her hair shaved. It was an unusual cut, but Gaarchiir wasn't one to judge.
Things were almost immediately thrown into motion as soon as the woman entered. She questioned the Rodian first, asking if he spoke Basic. Gaarchiir’s Huttese was rusty, but the Wookiee was sure that the bug-eyed alien was only fluent in his own language. Then the Mirialan looked to Gaarchiir, asking for Shyriwook.
Luckily for the both of them, that was his native dialect. Nodding once, Gaarchiir let out an affirmative bark.
“Arh!”
Looking around, to make sure the Imperials were out of hearing distance, the Wookiee lowered his voice. Not that it helped much, considering it was all barks, growls, and howls. Not to mention, only the Mirialan could understand him. As requested, he spoke slowly in Shyriwook.
<<If you’ve got a plan, we’re going to need weapons. I saw them stick my stuff in a locker over there.>>
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 5, 2016 0:01:37 GMT -5
Ervisa was immensely relieved that the Wookiee spoke Shyriwook. She might have been rusty, but she got 'weapons, locker' and saw the gesture. She also managed to get the idea the planning side of this was on her. No problem. They could handle that one absolutely. All she had to do was come up with a rapid plan to defeat a couple dozen Imperials and arrange a daring escape. Standard hero shit. Chandeliers not included, some assembly required.
She looked about the cell. It had the distinct look of something that was basically an afterthought. There were no benches, no tables, no beds. Just empty metal floor. But there were walls too, and a ceiling that... Oh yeah. It had a grate in it. And where there was a grate there was a way either to out or to somewhere. But the damned robe was going to flap around and get in the way. Ervisa shrugged it off and left it wadded up on the floor. She patted her empty holster sadly, then plucked a knife from her boot.
Amateurs hadn't checked.
"All right big guy, here's the plan. Me, on your shoulders. I'm too short to touch that grate, you're too big, so teamwork."
She clenched the knife between her teeth and watched the ceiling rise closer. Carefully she shifted herself so her knees rested on the shoulders, otherwise she'd have possibly banged her head. Dangers of being a tall woman...
The grate was pretty standard ventilation affair. Fine screen. Held in place by tension. She tried it with fingers and amended that to strong tension. She pried the tip of the knife in, and wiggled it around, trying to be vaguely conversational.
"Bummer you guys don't speak Basic, we could just pull the old sick prisoner routine. Maybe with variations, y'know I once knew a guy who could vomit on-"
Klink.
The grate popped off. She caught it carefully, and handed it down to the Wookiee. No sense letting it clatter and alert any of the guards. Her anecdote was just going to have to wait, as she lifted herself up inside the grate, contorting in a way that illustrated just how non-human she really was. Then, relying on a great sense of direction and old fashioned luck, she set off in a direction that she hoped was right.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2016 15:27:42 GMT -5
“Arrhh!”
Gaarchiir barked another affirmative, as the Mirialan mentioned using teamwork to reach the grate on the ceiling. The Wookiee didn't think twice about helping the woman; it seemed she had a plan. And that meant she was Gaarchiir’s best bet for getting out of this pen. If he played along, no doubt she'd let him out from the other side.
Either way, he wasn't going to be a slave for the Empire.
Given his natural height and size, crawling around in an air vent wasn't exactly ideal for Gaarchiir. So of course, he was the one lifting the Mirialan up onto his shoulders, after she produced a knife from her boot. Kneeling down for the woman to climb up on top of him, the Wookiee slowly stood once the Mirialan was situated.
Something about the Mirialan made Gaarchiir like her. She was casual, yet at the same time gung-ho and took the initiative. And from what the Wookiee gathered, she disliked the Empire just as much as he did. As the Mirialan knelt on his shoulders and worked on the grate, her weight barely phasing Gaarchiir’s great strength, the Wookiee absorbed himself in her story.
<<Vomit on command? Bacca’s Breath…>>
He growled up to the woman. But before Gaarchiir knew it, he was being handed the grate and the Mirialan was gone. Setting the piece of metal down, it was then that Gaarchiir realised something - the Mirialan could easily escape by herself, now, and leave him in the dust.
But Gaarchiir’s faith in people wasn't completely dead. He didn't think the Mirialan would do that.
The Wookiee’s blue eyes followed along the ceiling, in the direction that the Mirialan had taken off. It was as if Gaarchiir could watch the woman, and plot her path. About twenty feet ahead, and outside of the pen, there was another grate in the ceiling. Hopefully that'd be the woman's exit point.
But as Gaarchiir spotted it, two of the Imperial Naval Troopers walked in. They looked at the pen for a moment, and then turned away. But they didn't go anywhere. Whoever was in charge seemed to deem it necessary to post a guard. And where they were standing, if the Mirialan dropped out of the ceiling, she'd be right on top of them.
And that'd end their escape real quickly.
Thinking quick, Gaarchiir needed a way to distract them without drawing attention to the open vent, or the missing Mirialan. Looking around, all that Gaarchiir had in the pen was himself, the grate, and the Rodian. Not much to work with. And the only idea that came to the Wookiee’s mind, he didn't quite like. But still, he had to do something.
“Arrrhhrwwooo…”
SMACK
Gaarchiir gave the Rodian an apology in advance, along with a sorry look. And then the Wookiee punched the green alien right in the chest. It was a pulled punch, to be sure. But getting punched by a Wookiee was still getting punched by a Wookiee. The Rodian was knocked on his ass, feet flying up in the air. Stunned for a moment, the Rodian looked up at Gaarchiir, almost in betrayal and hurt. Balling a fist, the Wookiee pointed at the second grate with his other hand.
<<Fight me, to distract them!>>
Being sure to shout, which only came out as loud barks and growls, everything that Gaarchiir did from this point on was for a distraction. He watched the Rodian look at the grate just beyond the pen, then back at the Wookiee. The green creature stood, flexed, and then charged at Gaarchiir. The ensuing scuffled succeeded in fulfilling the Wookiee’s goal, as the guards came over to watch the fight like a Pay-Per-View on the Holonet.
“Thirty credits says the Rodian wins.”
“You're a moron, and I'm about to be thirty credits richer.”
Gaarchiir hoped the Mirialan hurried. He was blocking Bug-Eyes punches, for now. But he didn't want to end up hurting the Rodian.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 5, 2016 19:52:24 GMT -5
Ervisa weighed her options very carefully in the duct. There were two of them, she could see from the grate. What's more, she could hear the distraction the Wookiee was very effectively causing. Good job furball, she commented mentally, as it bought her a few seconds to think carefully. Low profile might have sounded idiotic for a moment, given the enormous Wookiee, but if she stabbed one of them straight in the carotid it'd mean a huge puddle of blood everywhere that attracted attention. If she beat the crap out of them and gagged them inside the cell, that would prevent anybody from immediately noticing they'd escaped.
Worth it. Totally worth a shot.
She carefully positioned herself in the duct, swung her legs up, and kicked down hard on the grate. She slammed down directly on one of the troopers, who went out like a light, and she swept a foot around to catch the other in the leg, savagely punching him in the solar plexus as he fell. Grabbing his E-11 and flipping it to Stun was accomplished before he could even stop wheezing. She gave him a good blast with the weapon, and then picked herself up and headed to the control panel. It chimed negatively at her, and then it clicked.
Those stupid code cylinders. She sighed, and plucked all of them off the troopers' uniforms, and stuffed them deftly into a pouch on her belt. Then she keyed the control panel, and obligingly the forcefield dropped very neatly.
"All right big guy, help me gag and tie up these guys. It'll buy us a little time," Ervisa paused, liberating the E-11 holster and putting it onto her belt. It was the best way to free hands for gagging and tying up an Imperial. Of course she also slid the other E-11 over to Duckface.
"Take that and get back to the cargo ship, try not to get caught."
He muttered something in the affirmative and ran off.
Ervi gave an apologetic look to the Wookiee.
"Sorry but, narrow trigger guard, and your hairy fingers are huge. We'll see if we can't get you something a little bigger with the next guards who go down."
She dragged the unconscious trooper into the cell again, talking while she did so. "Also hope you've got some ideas, because this was as far ahead as I planned."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2016 22:44:17 GMT -5
Pop… Poppoppoppop!
THUD!
Gaarchiir couldn’t just let Bug-Eyes hit on him forever. The Guards had to be drawn in. Entertained. No one wanted to watch a Rodian helplessly beat on the Wookiee, barely harming the furball as the Wookiee just took it all. That wasn’t interesting in the slightest. Folks wanted blood. So with a heavy heart, Gaarchiir pulled back, and slammed a fist into the side of the Rodian’s face with a loud crashing sound. Bug Eyes reeled back, having braced for the hit.
But still, being hit by a Wookiee was being hit by a Wookiee.
Just as Bug-Eyes was coming back around, however, there was a loud crash from outside the cell. The Mirialan swung out of the ceiling like some sort of ninja, crashing down onto one trooper and incapacitating the second with his own rifle. If you blinked, you missed all the action. Gaarchiir just barely caught everything out of the corner of his eye, and he was quite impressed for a moment. So impressed, he wasn’t even phased by the Rodian’s last punch connecting with his torso.
Either that, or he just didn’t feel it.
As the Mirialan unlocked the cell, Gaarchiir did as he was asked, and dragged one of the bodies in. The rifles were split up, one going on the woman’s belt, and the other finding it’s way into Bug-Eyes hands, who already had a sickly bruise forming from the punch to the face. The Wookiee watched as Bug-Eyes took off, hoping that the Rodian didn’t blow their cover. Shaking his head a bit, Gaarchiir finished with the unconscious guards, looking around for something, anything to bound and gag the troopers with. Spying a crate marked ‘wiring’ across the bay, Gaarchiir walked over, tore off the top, and pulled out a spool of red wire which looked strong enough to use like rope.
<<Let’s use this.>>
The Wookiee barked, handing the wiring off to the Mirialan. Then walking back over across the bay, this time, Gaarchiir stopped at the weapon’s locker. It required one of those silly silver cylinders that the woman had used to unlock the pen with. Or, y’know, brute strength and force. That, Gaarchiir had a lot of. Grabbing the handle to the locker with both hands, the Wookiee tore the door off after two testing tugs.
Inside laid a multitude of things, as the locker was stacked from the floor all the way up to level with the Wookiee’s head. Chief among the items was an arsenal of E-11s, along with a couple of flechette launchers, and a single, larger rifle that Gaarchiir didn’t recognize. There was a blaster pistol that looked like it could fit in the Mirialan’s holster. The Wookiee held it up for her to see, gestured that he was going to throw it, and then let it sail through the air.
And finally, at the bottom, was Gaarchiir’s things.
Retrieving his bag and bandolier first, Gaarchiir slid it over his head, and down onto his shoulder. Next went his harness, around his shoulders for his ryyk blade. Using the strap on his bowcaster, Gaarchiir shouldered that as well, and then finally he retrieved his very large, very sharp sword from the locker. Holding it in one hand, he looked over the blade, making sure it wasn’t damaged. The Imperials didn’t know how to treat anything like a ryyk blade with respect.
<<I say we take out the troopers one by one, as silently as we can, until we get to the bridge. If the ship doesn’t have any command or communications, no one will know anything’s up. The gunners can wait until last; they won’t put up much of a fight.>>
Hopefully the Mirialan understood the majority of that. Gaarchiir was sure to speak slowly and clearly, for her sake.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 5, 2016 23:06:49 GMT -5
Ervisa watched blankly as the Wookiee just ripped off the door of the locker. That one kind of undid her concern about things not being obviously wrong, but simultaneously she did blame herself for forgetting the fact he'd mentioned the stupid locker in the first place, and that she should've unlocked it. Oh well, hindsight had this whole tendency to be 20/20 anyway. What was more, she had to admit the giant sword was still pretty damn cool.
He tossed her blaster to her, and she caught it neatly, checking to see it was loaded and sliding it into the holster on her left thigh. Ervi was a southpaw, not that many people really noticed. In a galaxy that huge full of so many different species, using one hand over another usually wasn't worth commenting on. She gave it a reassured pat and scratched her angular chin.
"OK, I think I followed that. Kill everybody quiet, go to the bridge. And I have an objection to raise about that one. Namely, there's two of us, and like 22 of them. I don't like those odds. I've got something else in mind here. Something, uh, clever. All we have to do is convince them this ship is a really frelling bad place to be right?"
She moved back to the cell, lowered the field, and loosened up the bonds, then scrawled a quick note with a pen.
'Gone to reactor, back never. Enjoy explosion.'
"You get up to the bridge and sound the evacuation, I go to the engine compartment and get the right alarms shooting off. Bet you anything these guys cheese it in record time. This backward sector? Running a frelling Gozanti? These guys aren't interested in risking their skin, they'll run like hell to the other ship. Sound OK with you big dude?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2016 10:04:42 GMT -5
The Mirialan’s point was more than fair; Two against twenty-two wasn't the best odds. But odds didn't concern Gaarchiir. He had fought the Empire before. He knew strengths and weakness in both their equipment and tactics. The Wookiee figured that if they were smart, the numbers could quickly dwindle in their favor.
“Urugh…”
The Wookiee barked, thinking it over. The woman’s idea was smart. The green humanoid continued to impress. She could fight. She could think. And she disliked the Empire. Maybe when all this was done, Gaarchiir would see if he could tag along with her for awhile.
Wiping down one side of his ryyk blade that looked like it had been smudged, he slid it neatly into the harness over his shoulder, and then crossed his arms. Leaning against the now-open locker, Gaarchiir just had one minor issue with the Mirialan’s plan.
<<What about everyone on that freighter? I don't trust the Imperials to NOT hurt them. Otherwise… It's a pretty good idea, and I think we can pull it off.>>
Gaarchiir’s issue wasn't a dealbreaker. The Wookiee just didn't want to see anyone else hurt because of him.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 6, 2016 17:16:33 GMT -5
Ervisa kept glancing about while the Wookiee replied back. She didn't trust fate to keep enemies at a nice distance, they might just walk right on in the more they heard. She wasn't about to pause, smell the flowers, and relax. Far from it. But on the other hand she was reasonably sure that furball was making a good point. Namely that that he was worried about the people on the freighter, if they tricked the impies off. She held up a hand, showing the point was acknowledged.
"All right big fella, good point there, but here's the bit that I feel obliged to point out. We're the ones who got brought here, everybody else got left behind. Now I suppose that maybe they got left behind so the impies can blow the ship, but I'm guessing we're the ones who get the unpleasant treatment by virtue of getting dragged over here, right?"
The Mirialan woman scratched one of her tattooed forearms, and her eyes flitted back and forth again.
"Now I'm giving you the bridge side of this whole equation because I don't think '4 to 1' means anything to you, and I'm better at sneaking around. So, deal partner?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2016 23:10:35 GMT -5
“Mrhm… Arh Rhrwooo.”
Or, in other words, something along the lines of ‘fair enough’ in Shryiwook. Gaarchiir was just the type of person to be more concerned about bystander’s well-being than his own. He’d met more than a few people out in the Galaxy, who didn’t share this view. Though the Wookiee was glad to see that the Mirialan had at least factored in the crew of the bulk freighter. And either way, she had convinced him. Not that it took a lot to convince Gaarchiir, especially when he had already helped someone out this far.
At the Mirialan’s next comment, the Wookiee only gave a light grin. No, four-to-one odds didn’t bother Gaarchiir in the slightest. In fact, it sounded a lot like the rebellion on Kashyyyk, years ago. Though, it had been a little while since he had last fought someone. At least, fought someone seriously. Even moreso, since he had fought the Empire. With any luck, Gaarchiir figured he could catch the bridge crew by surprise.
And from there on out, it would be like riding a speeder bike. It’ll all come right back to him.
<<Gaarchiir. And it’s a plan.>>
The Wookiee growled, giving the Mirialan both his name and his hand. It was a weird gesture, shaking hands. But it seemed to do just the trick for solidifying deals, for whatever reason. So the pair shook on it. After that, Gaarchiir turned, left the cargo bay, and followed the signs to the bridge. One hand on the handle to his ryyk blade, the Wookiee moved slowly and as quietly as he could, with all the cautiousness of a hunter, like he was trained on Kashyyyk.
Gaarchiir just hoped he spotted any guards, before they spotted him.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 7, 2016 22:16:25 GMT -5
Ervisa grinned when she finally processed what'd he said. Gaarchiir, it turned out, wasn't a Wookiee sneeze. She didn't have to say 'bless you', because it was a name. And here she'd been rude and not even told him her own name. That'd suck if somebody managed to check her out of mortal existence, but on the other hand you never planned for shit like that anyway. It simply didn't crop up on radar at all because it wasn't worth the price of spice on Ryloth. Which was presumably low, she'd never actually gone there.
Regardless, she turned away herself and quietly advanced down the corridor toward the engineering section. One of the best things she could say about Gozantis was that they were comfortable. Three decks. Two of which had some damned nice cargo capacity. They were on the bottom now, because no sane Imperial would the brig on the same level as the bridge. Engine access was there too, but you could always rely on at least two official ladders, plus the access bits. There was always some kind of access panel built into things, crawl spaces for repair, or wiring, or simply to give gizka a place to hide.
You just had to know what to- Aha.
It was a grate, about the size that you'd worry about jawas or children rather than real bipeds getting into. Naturally she removed it and contorted herself inside. Mirialan flexibility was an amazing thing indeed. She reattached it behind her, and she spotted the wiring, all very neatly protected and insulated. Wires were like fancy roads for spaceships, follow them and sooner or later you'd get to the spot you needed. In this case it simply meant working her way up through a sloped incline that led towards the engine access room.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2016 23:18:12 GMT -5
How the Wookiee managed to make it to the bridge without any of the crew spotting him was anyone’s guess. Some would call it luck. Some fate, or destiny. Maybe coincidence, or circumstances. It could have been skill, too. Very few people, anymore, believed in the Force - that a mystical energy field controlled everyone’s actions and interactions, not just those attuned to using the power. Perhaps something wanted him to arrive unscathed? Probably not.
Gaarchiir, however, didn’t really think twice about it.
It wasn’t exactly easy to hide, with his size. Soft thuds followed him through the ship’s metal floors as he walked, giving away his presence like wake to an aquacraft. Not to mention, there wasn’t much space to hide even if the Wookiee wanted too. Gozantis looked big on the outside, but despite boasting three decks, they were quite narrow and compact. There was a flight of steps, and then a long hallway with the bridge on the other side, the door closed. No one was around. Most of the troopers had probably been deployed to deal with the bulk freighter, while most of the crew was in the positions, and too busy to go for a stroll.
That was the thing with Imperials; Always concerned with outside threats, not internal ones. Overconfident in their belief that they “handled things”. So what if they had just locked up a gung-ho Mirialan and an ex-soldier of a Wookiee? There was business to be done with the freighter. Slap two guards on the jail cell, and move on. Except now those guards were unconscious, and the Wookiee and the Mirialan were aiming to take the ship for themselves.
beep!
Crossing quietly down the hall, the Wookiee keyed the door to the bridge. But nothing happened, as only a negative bell sounded out. Looking down at the pad, Gaarchiir grumbled under his breath. Those damn code cylinders, did everything on an Imperial ship need one? That seemed highly inefficient to the large furball. None the less, the Mirialan had taken all of them, so Garachiir would just have to make do. Tearing the panel off, the Wookiee began to work at the wires, trying to get the door to open.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Footsteps. Armored. Sounded like two sets, but Gaarchiir couldn’t be sure. And he still couldn’t get the wire’s to open the bridge. His pace quickening, the Wookiee tried to remain cool and calm as he worked the panel. But the footsteps drew closer and closer. Any much more, and he’d have to make the decision to fight, hide, or run. None of those sounded quite good to the Wookiee right now. He didn’t want a whole ship full of Imperial soldiers down around his snout.
Whoosh!
The door to the bridge slid open, finally, and Gaarchiir slipped inside. The portal closed behind the Wookiee, as the being quickly took it all in. Everyone seemed lost in their own little world. A communications officer working his terminal. A pilot and a co-pilot gazing out front, flipping this lever and that and what not. Gaarchiir could fly, but he couldn’t tell from his position in the back just what they were doing. And finally, there was an Imperial officer, standing just in front of him, and next to the communications terminal. As the door closed, the Officer turned to look at just who would disturb him.
And Gaarchiir sprung.
Grabbing the Imperial Officer by the throat, the man’s grey hat slid off of his pompous head of hair, his hands clutching at the Wookiee’s wrist to no avail. Using his immense strength, Gaarchiir tossed the man almost effortlessly (or at least, he made it look effortlessly) at the Pilot and Co-Pilot, knocking the three men down. As the Comm Officer got up, Gaarchiir turned and slammed the man’s head into his own console, and he crumpled to the floor. Alive, but he’ll have a massive headache in the morning. Then, seeing movement in the pile of bodies that was the Imperial Officer, the Pilot and the Co-Pilot, Garachiir jumped on top of them, swinging his furry fists wildly until there was no more movement.
It was relatively quiet, and no one died. That seemed to be what the Mirialan was shooting for, and Gaarchiir didn’t want to mess up any plans. Listening at the door first, he peeked outside, and saw that the coast was clear. Dragging the four bodies out of the bridge, Gaarchiir locked the door behind him, but not before picking all of those pesky code cylinders he could off of the crew.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Apr 20, 2016 23:36:20 GMT -5
Ervisa pulled herself up through a narrow stretch of ductwork that had gone almost vertical on her. She was... Well, really convinced she needed to lay off the fried foods. Her mother would have puffed herself into full traditional mode and praised them as 'Big wonderful child-rearing hips!' but the fact was that fitting them through the ducting was damned hard. If it was even a centimeter tighter she'd need damn grease. Or lube. Or copious amounts of olive oil. She sighed and continued her slow progress up. She was, however, rewarded by the sight of a grate. Not any grate either.
It was a fact known to the people who routinely smuggled or who had to fabricate ships, that there was indeed a small honeycomb of access crawl-ways. They weren't intended for use outside of emergencies, and no boring security officer would squeeze himself down, fold himself up, and climb into them. For a Mirialan, even one who had to start watching her thighs, it was a playground. Or what passed for playgrounds among adults when sex, alcohol, and tabac weren't in the mix. In short, the grate there was an access one, marked 'Engine Adjunct 02.'
She carefully opened it, slid inside, and then on her back in the very dim space, she fished out a small light, holding it in her teeth as she eyed the mass of wiring.
If that was the command assembly, that meant THAT was the sensor assembly. In the immortal words of one of her teachers, when in doubt, swap 'em out. Ervisa did so, adjusting the plugs the wires fitted into. Now that was definitely going to confuse whatever high school dropout the Empire had eyeing the engine compartment.
It did indeed.
Senior Recruit Dezwi poked hard at the monitor. He flicked it again. But it couldn't be right, the commands were locking up. Engine 2 was sucking power madly and he couldn't... Even as he watched Engine 3 echoed the problem. He'd never been trained in this, and in all his 22 years aiding relatives in a mechanic shop, he had not even the foggiest idea of what was going on, what would happen, or how to fix it. When the temperature gauge for the reactor began climbing higher and higher, he started to nervously chew his fingernails.
When the klaxon sounded he jumped out of his skin and made a beeline from his post.
Ervisa crawled out from under the console about thirty seconds after the terror-stricken operator disappeared from sight, and she dusted herself off, ignoring the blaring alarms. After all, they were blaring over a failure of communication. One that was ultimately fake, and correctable in... She vaguely thought about how long that had taken. Ten minutes maybe. She tentatively pressed the comm line to the bridge and spoke into the intercom, in a tone that was strangely relaxed despite the fact it sounded like the impending doom of the galaxy.
"Hey Garchie," She began, "You up there yet? You might want to sound the evacuation sirens about now."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 30, 2016 10:19:41 GMT -5
Gaarchiir wasn't sure what the Mirialan had planned for the Gozanti, after they pulled this little stunt. It sounded like the Lady meant to abscond with the freighter. At very least, it'd be easy enough to commandeer it after the crew evacuated. And a Gozanti could be immensely valuable on the fringes of Space. But whatever the Mirialan’s plan was, Gaarchiir sincerely hoped it didn't involve a copilot.
“Uuuurrrrrhhhh…”
He exclaimed quietly to himself, spinning the copilot's chair on it's stand. Or rather, what was left of the chair. And what was left of the stand, too. For the Wookiee hadn't noticed at the time, but when he jumped on the mangled mess that had consisted of the Imperial Pilot, Copilot, and Officer, Gaarchiir had completely smashed the chair.
Perhaps some bonding agent? Tape? Maybe there was a spare in the cargo bay somewhere? Gaarchiir felt responsible. He'd have to fix or replace it for the Mirialan. But really, on second thought, the Wookiee thought that it could make for a rather comfy stool, now. It was while he was on this thought that the intercom started to go off, and the Mirialan’s voice flood the bridge, enhanced with a electronic tinge.
“Arh!”
Gaarchiir ran over to the communications station, pressed the right button, and barked back an affirmative. Evacuation alarm. That had to be somewhere on the comm station, no? It would make the most sense. So the Wookiee scoured the station, looking. He'd served in enough crews and on enough ships to know what he was looking for, but it wasn't there. Frusrated, almost, Gaarchiir gave the station a second and a third look over.
<<What the hell?!>>
The Wookiee growled at the top of his lungs, which echoed in the bridge. The evacuation alarm wasn't there. Between getting detained, breaking the copilots chair, and now this alarm fiasco, Gaarchiir was slowly starting to become unwound. He wasn’t exactly the happiest furball at the moment. Spinning on the spot, the Wookiee’s eyes fell on something that made him chill, for the moment.
The alarm, on the opposite wall.
Crossing the bridge in two bounds, Gaarchiir pulled the handle down, and the evacuation alarm started to sound.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on May 2, 2016 15:11:09 GMT -5
There was something Ervisa both loved and hated about Imperial tech. It was always so sleek, clean, and evil-looking that you both loved it and hated it, but above all that was the singular fact that their alarms could send your spine shitting out your ass. Even expecting it, Ervi felt a little bit of jelly in her backbone. The mournful howl of the siren was strange and scary as the nine Corellian hells at once. Still, she wasn't about to risk any brave or unconscious soul remaining behind. The Mirialan woman pulled up the internal sensors display and checked the readout. One Wookiee, on the bridge, her in the engine access. Then there were...
Moving pretty quickly, definitely the fear of exploding in space was higher than a fear of Palpy Pruneface's bad temper for most of them.
That was the greatest thing about the Empire in Ervisa's opinion. Collectively it was big, scary, dangerous, and hated anybody who wasn't human. But boil it down to the individuals, and outside of stormtroopers and the ISB, most of them weren't that well-motivated or skilled. When things turned shitty they got confused, and because they were so rarely confused or scared they frelled up. If there were enough of them, they were more scared of each other or their officers than they were of the enemy. But this kind of post in the ass end of things? They were liable to run.
Except of course for the errant one heading her way.
Ervisa slid her way back into the vent before she heard footsteps approaching rapidly.
The person was clearly an officer, as she could deduce from the fact his boots were much shinier and taller. He also had a habit of thinking aloud, which was fortunate from her perspective. Mostly it was assorted curse words punctuated with 'what if' and 'maybe I could' that ultimately resulted in a crescendo of 'shitshitshit' as the computer started counting down from two minutes. He hit the screen, and then finally he turned and ran like hell. That was definitely her cue, and the Mirialan slid back to her sabotage and began the process of undoing it. After that was a reset to that computer, a dash down to verify the retreating Imperials had detached from the Gozanti, and then another sprint up to the cockpit.
Ervisa huffed and wheezed a little as she entered and slid into a seat. Navigation she confirmed immediately. She'd taken up smoking again, now and then, and she'd resumed since Socorro. However she also thought about quitting again as she reflexively pulled out a tabac cigarette and a lighter. The smoke helped her think a little bit too. After all, she had a lot to discuss with the Wookiee.
"All right Gaarchy," She said, "Now, since I wasn't exactly planning this and we just stole an Imperial ship, we've got about a minute before they figure out what we did. Got any solid ideas of where to take a hijacked Imperial patrol ship?"
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