Chapter Seven: The Breakout
"So, you guys miss me?" Aurek's pleasant voice reached across the channel. The words resonated in the ears of the six Imperial troopers. The team had their squad leader back, in a manner of speaking. The sturdy door of a Republic cruiser's armory still kept him from his comrades proper.
"We made do," Besh replied, a touch of warmth gracing his usually calm, collected voice. "We'd love to have you back, though."
"Well that's good to hear," said Aurek. "I got everything readied and suited up on my end. Have Dorn slice the controls or just get Esk blow the whole door off, I've spent too much time here as is."
"Actually, Dorn and Esk are both guarding the shuttle back in the hangar," the marksman admitted after a beat.
A lengthy silence followed.
"Don't worry, Aurek," Dorn interjected. "I'm patched into the system. I should be able to remotely lift the lockdown from here."
Another lengthy silence followed, though considerably less unpleasant that the one moments prior. As they waited on their technician to deliver on his promise, the four-man rescue team relaxed in their defensive positions. Knees no longer graced the floor. Barrels no longer pointed down each end of linear corridor. Instead, the soldiers were content to quietly, and patiently, lean against the nearby walls. But neither the quiet, nor the patience, could last forever.
"What's your status Dorn?" Besh asked.
"Having a bit of trouble on my end," the technician shot back, a budding franticness tinging his words. "Diagnostics are showing that the armory had an independent security system. And I can't seem to find it."
The marksman scratched the chin of his helm. "The armory's doors aren't on the grid?"
"No," Dorn quickly replied. "I mean, they aren't right now. They were before. Not before as in earlier, but… okay as in earlier, but not since I sliced in.
Besh released a cold sigh. "What are you trying to say?"
"The doors are locked. Not because of lockdown. An on-site mechanism was triggered," Dorn explained. "The master override should be giving me some measure of influence, but something removed the door's information completely from the system."
A third, lengthy silence.
"Aurek?" Besh muttered.
"That… may have something to do with me blasting the control panel inside here," Aurek admitted. The fourth silence. "It was the only way I knew to lock the door from the inside. I didn't want someone on the bridge overriding it."
"Then why did you even suggest Dorn slice the controls?" Besh asked, returning to his usual chilled tone.
"The panel might be scrap on this end, but I don't think it made it through the other side," said Aurek.
Taking a quick look at the protruding block next to the door, Besh could see that the control panel was indeed intact. A closer look, however, provided less enthusiastic news. "The panel out here says 'Unit Unresponsive. Call Maintenance'. Where did you even get a blaster?"
"Well, I am in an armory," Aurek offered with a chuckle.
Once more, silence as the marksman palmed his facemask with his gloved hand. "Aurek, are you behind the door right now?"
"Yeah."
"Well, don't be."
Stepping aside, Aurek did not even have time to respond before door was knocked off its supports by the thunderous right foot of Grek. As the dented door fell and skidded past the visibly shaken soldier, the colossal trooper stepped aside to allow Besh passage into the compact armory.
Aurek stood frozen, unremarkable in appearance compared to his squad mates. Wearing the same set of armor, he possessed no indication of proper rank or authority, only his name written in white on his right pauldron. As the marksman examined the room, he noticed saw various racks of weaponry and light armors encroaching upon the already cramped floor space. Minimal arms and armament. Nothing worth a second glance. Instead, the second-in-command's attention was drawn toward the battered door that gently swayed upon its indentation toward the rear of the chamber.
"Republic engineering leaves much to be desired," Besh muttered, raising and resting the bulk of his sniper rifle upon his shoulder..
"You want to give me more of a warning before you have Grek go kicking in doors?" Aurek asked, words pouring out ever so slowly as he regained his composure.
Grek hesitantly peered in through the armory's doorless doorframe before offering a slight, soft wave of his hand toward the squad leader. That was as near as he came, opting to remain in the corridor alongside Cresh and Forn.
"A warning?" Besh repeated, maintaining a calm composure. "How about you warn us the next time you're about to go mouth off complaints to the Director about our missions being too easy?"
"That was said in confidence to her. And it wasn't a complaint," Aurek corrected. "It was simply a factual statement. No cognitive emotional value attached to it all. Plus, pretty sure it wasn't the Director who was responsible for this little excursion. One of the Patrons was probably listening in on us at just the right… or rather, wrong time."
"You know Project protocol. 'Always assume you are under surveillance. Whether it be by friend or foe'," the marksman recited, even more monotonous than usual. "Speaking of which…" Besh broke conversation and made his way out of the armory, bringing a finger to his helm's right brow. "Dorn, did you manage to scrap the ship's monitoring data?"
"Oh? Uh, yeah. I mean, yes sir," Dorn answered, as if caught by surprise. "All data regarding Aurek being unmasked has been disposed of."
"Something wrong Dorn?" Aurek asked as he exited the armory, pilfered blaster rifle in his hand.
There was a pause on Dorn's end. "'Wrong' is a strong word."
"Yes, that's why I used it," Aurek shot back. "Is there?"
"Well, you know how the door panel mysteriously disappeared from the system before. It would seem that the same thing happened to the, well, entire door," Dorn hesitantly admitted.
"Right, that was Grek applying a manual override," Aurek explained, looking back to the disheveled doorframe that made up the armory entrance. A few steps away, Grek offered another soft wave of his hand.
"That I gathered," said Dorn. "It's just that afterwards, activity on the ship's security grid seems to have… spiked… significantly. Monitoring equipment. Room diagnostics. Everything."
"So they're aware of our presence," Aurek muttered. "More aware at least."
"It would seem so," Dorn replied, building up speed with each passing word. "They must have been biding their time, waiting for us to reveal where you had stowed away. Orders are pouring out from the bridge. Main systems are being recalibrated. Auxiliary systems are being flushed. Troop movement is up-"
"What does it all mean, Dorn?" Aurek asked, maintaining his calm.
"They've been holding back, sir," he said, almost at a whisper.
Again, silence.
"So they have," Aurek replied, unfazed. "Dorn, Esk, there's a chance they might not send everyone after us-"
"Don't worry, boss," Esk interjected alongside a light chuckle. "Everything's fine over here. Got some defenses set up and what have you. You all just make it back in one piece."
"And you keep the hangar in one piece until we get back," Aurek ordered, carrying Esk's jovial tone as his own.
"Will do."
Thereupon, the communications between the two groups ceased. Silence number seven.
