Atton and the rest of Luxa's Exchange thugs were bunched up on a "hill" of duracrete covered with dirt and saplings, overlooking the military base. Atton was studying the structure with Broken-nose's macrobinoculars. The blocky structure was a kilometer wide. Half of that width was the circular landing pad, which was about 20 meters in height, with what looked like three loading elevators to shuttle vehicles into and out of the structure. The rest of the width was taken up by four massive duracrete bunkers that linked to the landing pad, probably holding the defunct military bases' barracks, command center, etc.
There was a massive crater near the center of the base that looked like the result of multiple heavy turbolaser impacts.
Oh, and it was crawling with infantry-style battle droids. Atton didn't see any lumbering assault droids.
"We could try the main doors," Broken-nose said reluctantly.
"Bad idea. If the base went into some kind of automatic lockdown, those are magnetically sealed," Atton replied, slowly scrolling the magnification wheel, studying part of the landing pad.
"Won't know until we check," Broken-nose snapped.
"Or, how about we use the utility access?" Atton suggested, freezing the image in the macrobinoculars, before handing them to Broken-nose to look at.
Broken nose looked into the macrobinoculars for several seconds.
"Where is this?" he asked.
"Lower left side of the landing grid. About… fifty meters to the right of that big blaster burn," Atton said, pointing towards the platform.
Broken nose followed Atton's instructions, muttering thoughtfully to himself.
"I don't see a hatch," Broken nose finally said, looking at Atton.
"There won't be one. But they've got vibro-axes—" Atton said, jerking a thumb towards the gammoreans, "—and the base isn't drawing power from the grid, so the utility conduit won't be live."
Broken nose balked a little, but Atton smiled grimly, "We aren't going to hit half a company of infantry droids head on."
The team will mutiny if you try, the smile said.
Broken nose scowled, but nodded sharply, looking back at the approaches.
"The last twenty meters is exposed," Broken nose sighed.
"Send people over to left, draw droids, make noise, and we run in," the trandoshan mercenary hissed.
"I volunteer," Atton said quickly.
"Hell no. This is your idea. You get to see if the power's on or not," Broken nose smiled nastily.
"Trisk. Dian. Go make some noise over there," Broken nose said, pointing to the far side of the landing pad.
Two of the human thugs nodded, breaking off into a weary jog.
"And for fierfiek's sake don't get shot, you bastards," Broken nose called after them.
Broken nose handed the macrobinoculars to one of the rodians.
"Gind, keep watch here, tell me when the droids start moving," Broken nose said, carefully starting down the sharply sloped hill, towards the military base. Everyone else reluctantly followed. Only a few lost their footing and rolled to the bottom.
Blaster fire started up, and Atton could see back flash from light reflecting off intervening surfaces, even though he couldn't see the shooters directly.
Seventy meters to the target.
"Gind says the droids are clustering on the diversion!" Broken nose called, comlink to his ear.
Good, Atton thought, tripping over a piece of twisted half-buried durasteel rod.
A blaster bolt snarled past his head, blasting dirt into his face. Atton started scrambling on all fours, spitting out dirt, not bothering to clear his eyes until he smashed into something solid for cover.
((()))
Choy was really starting to hate dust. It caked the rungs of the access ladder she was descending, making each grip precarious, and throwing noxious powder into the air.
I wish I had a breath mask, Choy scowled, glaring at the next rung from the light cast by the glowrod clipped to her harness. A piece of dust slapped onto her shoulder, dislodged by Bao-Dur on the rungs above her, and continued to think sulfurous thoughts about dust, and blink a lot.
"Choy," Bao-dur coughed, pointing his glowrod at the wall near Choy. She looked over at the access panel, and its designation.
They were in the fifth sub-level, which had been designated as hazardous and structurally compromised. It was also the location of the military computer trying to disrupt the RZ shield. Choy unzipped a breast pouch on her harness, and juggled her terahertz scanner out.
"Fierfiek…" Choy hissed, watching the scanner slip from her dust caked fingers and disappear into the darkness below her. After six or seven seconds she heard a rather destructive sounding crunch mixed with the sounds of secondary tinkling. No point recovering it…
"Here," Bao-Dur hissed, reluctant to part his lips because of the dust. He leaned down, offering his own scanner.
Choy took it carefully, not looking up to avoid getting anything in her eyes.
She leaned out, but couldn't quite reach the hatch.
"Need an extension," Choy muttered with her lips barely parted.
Bao-Dur grunted an affirmative, and she heard him moving above her, as well as the patter of dust clumps hitting her back. Some of it slithered down the back of her collar, making her spine itch.
"Hand," Bao-dur grunted, offering his natural hand. Choy grabbed on, and leaned out from the ladder, knowing that Bao-dur's mechanical left hand would never release the rungs.
Choy placed the scanner flat against the metal hatch, studying the screen as the penetrating sensor gave her an idea of what was on the other side. She didn't want to cut through anything that might be holding up a collapsed section… but everything was clear.
"No debris within three meters of the hatch," Choy coughed.
Bao-dur made an encouraging sounding grunt, before snorting loudly, probably trying to clear a piece of dust out of his nose.
Choy snugged the scanner into the pocket that had held her scanner, before pulling out her welding goggles, and her fusion cutter.
"Cutter out," Choy warned.
"Clear," Bao-dur responded, signaling that he had either covered his eyes or had goggles on too. Obviously he'd turned his head and closed his eyes since he had no hands free at the moment.
Choy lit off the fusion cutter, taking comfort in the harsh snarl of the cutter and the actinic sting of melting metal. So very different from burning flesh.
((()))
"Right. Here," Atton shouted, pointing emphatically at part of a vertical pipe conduit wide enough to take a swoop bike comfortably. The gammorrean cocked his head, then reared back, vibro-ax shrilling. Atton dove away from the power conduit, not trusting the wooden handle of the vibro-axe, nor the aim of the wielder. If the vibrating ax head flew off, he didn't want to be anywhere near it.
Metal screamed and squealed as the burly warrior hacked out a crude hole that defied definition of its shape beyond "hole."
"How do we get him to stop?" Broken nose called to Atton who was on the far side of the emerging hole.
"Hit him?" Atton suggested, looking over at the trandoshan merc, "You look big and strong. Want to take a crack at it?"
The trandoshan hissed with laughter, shaking his head.
"Big. Not stupid," the trandoshan replied.
Another blaster bolt hit the dirt a few centimeters out from the rogue's boot tips. Atton wished the landing platform's overhang was greater, but he'd take what cover was available.
"I got it," a human thug with pinched features said, stacked up next to Atton.
"Really?" Atton asked.
"Yeah. I've worked with gammorrean bouncers," the spindly looking cutter muttered. The cutter took a deep breath, puffing his chest out and bellowed,
"Urrsh!"
Like a magic trick the deafening noised ceased, and the gammorean looked around, the eyes hidden within the thick bony ridges of his skull blinking.
"That's good!" Broken nose praised, exaggerating his tone to convey meaning to the gammorean. He also patted the brute's armored shoulder gently. He waved to Atton, then pointed at the two meter wide irregular hole.
The nasty smile was back.
Atton scowled, but leaned into the hole, clicking on a glow rod. It looked clear, which to Atton's mind, meant everything dead. No power anywhere. Just in case, Atton grabbed a handful (carefully) of metal slivers that had scattered around the base of the hole from the gammorreans activities, and threw them into the darkness at the same time he turned off his glowrod, looking for any sign of sparks or shorts.
Nothing.
"Looks good," Atton said.
((()))
"Unauthorized launch reported by TSF!" an ensign from alpha shift called out.
"Ensign Letters, what kind of craft launched?" Admiral Onasi asked tersely.
The unfortunate ensign's hand was cupped to his headset as he studied his display screen.
"Two of the TSF's S-100 Stinger fighters," Ens. Letters reported.
"Scramble Green Flight. Get me Lieutenant Capeli," Admiral Onasi snapped.
Carth felt the Sojourn tremble beneath his feet as the aft shield was quickly lowered to allow the four Aurek-class interceptors to launch from the rear-facing main hanger. Carth counted the seconds (four), before the deck trembled again, signaling that the aft shields had risen. Not a bad scramble. He'd compliment the pilots when they returned.
"Signal the TSF Stingers, inform them that they will be treated as hostile unless they cut engines and power down weapons immediately," Carth told Ens. Letters, waiting for comms to patch him through to the leader of Green Flight.
"Admiral, this is Capeli," a slightly distorted voice reported. Carth smiled, cupping his own headset, tapping at the strat-com board that took up half a wall near the aft of the bridge, "Lieutenant, I'm designating two Stinger-class fighters as probable hostiles. If they do not immediately cease powered activity in the next five seconds, designate as hostile."
"Restrictions?" Capeli asked.
"None beyond standard peace-keeping," Carth answered. Citadel station was heavily saturated with civilians. Standard peace-keeping protocols restricted pilots to non-explosive weaponry, prohibited any fire with civilian targets down-range, and also had contingencies against taking cover behind civilian targets.
The TSF Stingers shouldn't be military models (so they should be lacking proton torpedo launchers and such munitions), but Carth couldn't guarantee it.
Carth kept half an ear on status reports of his marine squads, and the other on Green Flights movements (shown on the strat-com board). Two of the Aurek's accelerated into direct pursuit vectors, one to one, on the Stingers. The other two Aureks flanked wide, clearly pushing their engines at, if not slightly past, design tolerances.
Aureks were faster than Stingers, better armed, and better shielded. Stingers were more maneuverable and responsive though.
The canyons of Citadel station would make a lethal battlefield if the fighters were flown at full speed… forcing the starfighters to fly at nearly a third their maximum speed, further reducing the Aurek's advantages over the stingers.
"Torp lock!" Green two reported. Carth watched the pilot's signal flicker as it dove beneath a series of cargo transoms, disrupting his sensor profile to the Sojourn.
Carth winced at the pilot's instinctive scramble into cover, if the Stinger followed him in, the transoms would severely limit the Aurek's maneuver options until he could break back out into the open. Like shooting a gizka in a crate.
Green Three slashed down into the artificial canyon, and painted the stinger with a laser lock, spooking the enemy pilot into breaking off. Carth smiled tightly. Green Three's targets down range had included a shuttle terminal. Any misses would have incurred heavy civilian casualties, but the Stinger hadn't known that.
His pilots lacked the experience of most veterans, but Carth had been relentless in his training regimen. He doubted there was another cruiser in the fleet that had cut its teeth on training exercises even half as fiendish as the ones he'd devised.
((()))
"That's not good," Bao-Dur rumbled, experimentally pulling at the half-jammed blastdoor. There was a six centimeter gap, but it was too small even for Choy to slip through.
"There's debris in the track, and no power," he observed. Choy glanced at the schematic on her datapad. This whole section was unpowered, forcing them to use the glowrods.
"This is the only access, without back-tracking across half of the facility," she observed. They were so close to the computer core.
A reverberating clang filled the corridor, and the two technicians immediately dove for cover behind corridor stanchions, pulling weapons from their belts and killing their glowrods.
"I think we're close," a male voice growled. Choy didn't recognize it.
"You think?" an oddly familiar voice sneered, "Can't you read a map?"
Atton?
"Listen you little Sithspit, all I have to go on is what Luxa could dig up in five minutes!"
Choy slipped the fire selector from single fire to automatic, but kept the carbine on the stun setting. She looked over at Bao-Dur, who nodded slowly to her. He would follow her lead.
Choy peeked down the corridor, no one was in sight, but there was a diffuse glow of artificial light… so they were probably around the corner twenty meters away. Oh, and shadows.
"Well, which way is the core?" Atton, maybe, asked, his voice coolly friendly. The first speaker probably had a blaster pointed at Atton, Choy decided, looking at the shadows.
Interesting.
"You know, the longer we stand here with your blaster up my nose, the longer Jana has to blow this facility," the "probably" Atton voice said.
"And we all know how Luxa feels about failure. Not to mention being atoms floating in the wind," Atton chuckled. It was Atton. It had to be.
Indeed. The fool is here… and I think our goals are compatible… the shade whispered sleepily.
Where were you earlier? Choy asked the ghost.
My apologies. Sometimes it is difficult to maintain a coherent form, the thoughts held an edge of irritation… and genuine embarrassment.
"Bao-Dur. Follow me," Choy whispered.
For just a moment, the look in Bao-Dur's eyes flickered; Choy thought she saw peace floating like flotsam on the sea of his rage.
((()))
Atton was starting to get annoyed. Broken nose had a BlasTech Gamma 11 heavy blaster shoved in his nose. The barrel flange was rather sharp… and painful.
The trandoshan appeared to be paying more attention to Atton's words than the others, who were looking to Broken nose for leadership. Worse, Atton could feel a sneeze coming, and he was pretty sure he was staring at a hair-trigger modification on the blaster in his face.
"I think everyone needs to just calm down," a voice said reasonably from behind Atton. He saw the thugs behind Broken nose stiffen, staring at something behind Atton.
He recognized that voice. Choy?
"Blasters holstered," the voice continued calmly, but there was the certainty of duracrete behind that voice.
Atton was the first to move, slowly sliding his blaster pistol into the holster under his jacket, triggering some of the other thugs to also lower or holster their weapons. Once three or four bowed to the command, the rest of the group quickly caved in until only Broken nose still had a weapon out.
"I'm going to sneeze. You mind?" Atton whispered to Broken nose.
Grudgingly the thug lowered his blaster and Atton dabbed at the painful cuts under his nose. They were only scratches, but burned anyway. Then he sneezed.
"Thanks asshole," Atton grumbled into his sleeve.
"Who's in charge?" Choy demanded.
Reluctantly Broken nose raised his hand.
"The containment shield that keeps out Telos's atmosphere is failing. We need to get to the computer core, or we all die. Any objections to working together to prevent that?" Choy asked.
Broken nose hesitated, so Atton jumped in and asked the question the other thugs may or may not have been thinking, but should have been, "Look lady, we already have a job, and, no offense, but how do we know you aren't the ones trying to fry some really incriminating data files?"
Atton slowly turned away from the thugs to look at Choy and had to blink for a second. She looked like a low-budget holodrama ghost, covered in gray dust. A big Iridonian standing behind her was also covered in dust, but the heavy blaster in his hand seemed pretty steady.
Her blue eyes stood out like beacons from all the dust. For a moment, Atton was again startled, he'd never noticed her eyes before – then harshly jerked his attention back to now, and slowly winked with the eye that the other thugs couldn't see.
"What's your stake in this?" Choy asked, her eyes moving between Atton and Broken nose.
Broken nose scowled, his face closing up.
Great. Poor time to keep a lid on it, Atton sneered. He was also betting Choy wasn't in on any big conspiracy. Besides, she'd just gotten to Telos, so Atton doubted anyone had any leverage on her for blackmail…
"Someone's trying to destroy evidence for something that Czerka did. We're here to stop them. We're the good guys. This time," Atton allowed.
"Why has no one shot you yet?" Broken nose asked Atton, equal parts baffled and furious.
"Look, we don't have time to dance around this," Atton protested.
"Alright. Simple question time," Choy interrupted.
She had all eyes on her again.
"Who wants to live?"
That was a very focusing question.
((()))
"Three, two, one, pull!" Bao-Dur snarled, straining against his door. A spicy musk mixed with a very earthy, almost rancid odor as the gammoreans and the trandoshan also struggled against the door in the tight confines. With a sudden jerk that dumped everyone on their ass the resistance in the door track capitulated.
Blasters gently hummed as the thugs leveled weapons and glowrods into the darkness. The wide beam light sources didn't penetrate far into the darkness, but did light up most of the first ten meters of dark corridor.
"Is clear," the trandoshan hissed, his slotted pupils gazing through the thermal spectrum and lower end of the visible spectrum.
"Unless the droids are insulated or powered down," Atton pointed out softly.
The trandoshan flicked a talon in assent, as he drew the chopped down blaster carbine (highly illegal), from its leg holster.
"Don't shoot unless it's active. We don't want to alert the computer to where we are," Choy whispered, raising her glow rod and taking point. She glanced at her datapad map again before heading down the dim passage.
Bodies lay where they'd fallen, cause of death concealed by time and dust. Atton didn't much care.
Two minutes later Choy halted in front of an unmarked security door.
She touched the key panel and it flickered to life.
ACCESS DENIED
Choy tapped in a code on the keypad. The red letters flickered for a moment. Atton was close enough though to see the much smaller confirmation message that appeared in the bottom right corner:
COMMAND OVERRIDE ACCEPTED: GENERAL MEETRA SURIK
Atton felt a chill run through his stomach, staring at the back of Choy's head.
She was…?
Choy was…
Choy?!
"Move or get shivved," Broken nose snapped, jostling Atton out of his shock.
Mechanically the rogue followed the others into the cramped computer room, which smelled of warm electronics, dust, and singed silicon.
"I found it," Choy reported, pointing to one of the computer terminals.
Bao-Dur moved towards it, pulling out his datapad and a splicing cable.
"Hold it," Broken nose snarled, raising a blaster.
"We don't have time for this," Choy said coldly.
"Back up the records first," Broken nose snarled.
"Is there time?" Choy asked, looking over at Bao-Dur.
The iridonian hesitated, tapping commands on his pad.
"No… not and save the shield," Bao-dur explained.
"Give me a terminal. I'll do it," Atton interrupted quickly, before Broken nose could put his foot in it again. Choy hesitated for a moment, before she jerked her head at him, and plugged a datapad into a memory port. She tapped at the controls, again bypassing the security lock-out.
"Here," she said. A chunk of dust fell out of her short cropped hair and onto the screen. Atton wiped it off with a gloved hand, hastily searching through the security logs, backing up anything that looked like an inventory, manifest, or video recording. He didn't care, he just took them.
"The shield is stabilized, but there are two primary power couplings still showing strain," Bao-Dur reported, gauging the durability of the damaged components. They would probably hold for at least a couple hours…
"Alright, I've got everything left," Atton announced, pulling the last data chip out of the datapad. His pocket was bulging with the hard edged discs.
"Good. Now we just need to signal for a ride," Broken nose said.
"Tower," the trandoshan hissed, annoyed.
"Oh, right," the human thug sighed.
"We need to disable the towers," Bao-Dur rumbled.
"So disable them," Broken nose demanded, pointing to the mainframe access.
"Not a good idea," Bao-Dur said quietly, "The computer isn't fighting us right now, but it won't stand down, it's stuck on a combat footing. Even if it accepts the command to deactivate the towers, any stimulus might make it think the towers need to go back online… and that stimulus will probably be the shuttle coming in to land."
Broken nose scowled angrily at the zabrak, who calmly stared back, unmoved.
"We can cut power to the tower relays, but we'll be attacked, the computer might figure out what we're doing…" Choy mused.
"So? Without the towers we can outran any of these rust buckets, and get picked up outside," Atton scoffed.
((()))
Sidik carefully moved along the exterior of Citadel station. He moved with the slow, plodding gait of any tired engineer with magnetic boots and kilometers yet to walk. In truth, he was only eighty meters from his objective. Normally, he would have been dead fifty meters ago. An unfortunate accident, from any one of dozens of camouflaged security measures.
Sadly, someone had disabled those exterior defenses, without alerting the occupants within. The galaxy was truly a dangerous place, Sidik mused, as he paused outside a transparasteel viewport, and began to sort out his charges and detcord.
There was a sudden flash through the viewport, reflecting on the chipped paint of the station hull. Cautiously, Sidik halted his activity, and left the det cord hanging in space. He drew a pinhole holocamera from his kit and slipped it down, to look through the viewport. In the grainy feed on his datapad, the rodian saw two mark six Bonadan infantry droids standing at attention, blaster carbines leveled and ready for any intruders into the sanctum of one Loppak Slusk. Seated at the throne-like computer desk was the head of the exchange on Citadel Station, leaning back in the swivel chair.
His chest was still smoking from several pointblank blaster shots.
Sidik didn't see anyone else in the room… and the door indicator still glowed, showing it was secured, from the inside, with a manual lock.
Sidik considered this for a moment, before shrugging. No point wasting perfectly good detcord on a corpse. Besides, it was a nice office.
((()))
Atton wasn't surprised when Choy called a halt half-way to the relay junction, outside a supply store room. It had been a hell of a climb, even with shirts tied around faces, through those dusty maintenance ducts.
He was surprised however when two familiar droids popped out through.
The astro droid had a crazy tilt to his coin shaped head, but was still beeping cheekily.
"Please tell me this is the right way to the relays," Atton complained.
Choy gave him a frosty look, before leading the shuffling group down another side corridor. They only ran into one group of infantry droids, but heard the clanking footsteps soon enough to set up an ambush.
After ten minutes and one more locked down door they reached some sort of interior hanger. At least, Atton thought it was a hanger. It only had the amber combat lighting active which seemed to create more darkness than no lights at all.
Atton glanced at the trandoshan, "See anything?"
The giant reptile scowled into the poorly lit room, but shook his head slowly.
"Nothing moves," he hissed.
"Good enough for me," Atton muttered, but he let the gammoreans go first. Just in case.
They swaggered in, vibro-axes growling, looking for a fight.
No fight materialized, clearly to their disappointment.
Choy carefully moved along the left hand wall in the massive chamber, among the tumbled and scattered crates, her glow-rod playing along the gray metal.
There was a clank of metal as Choy and the Iridonian disappeared up to their elbows into a now open access panel in a pylon that jutted out from the floor and ran to the ceiling.
Atton though began to get a familiar itch between his shoulders, and his gut began to churn. Something bad was coming. Atton double checked his blaster pistol, and swapped power packs, slipping the partial back into his jacket. The trandoshan saw him, and tilted his head quizzically.
"Watch yourself," Atton hissed, "got a bad feeling."
The trando nodded thoughtfully, shifting his grip on the cut down, pistol grip carbine. Atton sidled a little closer to the heavily armed thug, his head on the swivel.
There was a loud and angry sound pop / crackle from the mechanics location, and the amber emergency lighting died.
"Relay is cut, the guns are down," Choy called out, slipping tools back onto her belt.
"Well, you've been a lot of help," Broken nose chuckled.
Move, the shade hissed, and Choy almost felt the push against her shoulder, throwing her behind the power conduit pylon. A blaster bolt sparked a few centimeters from her head, close enough to raise blisters.
"The hell is wrong with you?" Choy shouted.
"Sorry, nothing personal," the mercenary leader snarled, ducking into his own cover behind a slagged assault droid chassis, as Choy and Bao-Dur returned fire.
"We still need them, idiot!" Atton yelled, from somewhere to the left.
The other Exchange thugs seemed torn, as the two men argued for leadership. Most had drawn weapons, but weren't shooting. Yet.
"That tears it. You're a dead man," the thug leader promised, sending a blaster bolt towards Atton's voice.
"I've got the data, idiot," Rand retorted.
A deep clanking groan filled the trashed hanger. Everyone froze in the darkness, glow lights flailing through the dark.
A heavy clang slightly shook the deck plating, then again, as something emerged from a massive charging alcove at the far end of the hanger.
"Tank droid!" Choy screamed, recognizing the boxy five meter tall silhouette. It was four tons of armor plating, heavy weapons, and attitude between a pair of powerful digitigrades legs. It looked like a big head with two legs attached where the ears should be. Two heavy blaster cannons on the chin rotated, locking on to a target.
The heavy bolts shredded through the assault droid chassis, and the thug leader that was crouched behind it. Two multi-spectrum military grade photoreceptors hung below the cannons. It was one of the unit's easiest exploited weaknesses.
It still wasn't much of a weakness though.
Choy pushed herself harder against the power conduit pylon, as more heavy blaster bolts began to shred the meager cover in the hanger.
"Go for the eyes!" Choy shouted.
3C-FD huddled near a docking crane, screaming. If it tried to reach Choy, it would just attract the Tank droid to Choy's position, and Choy couldn't see FS-907.
Two shapes were cut down as they emerged from cover, running for the open door. A deluge of small arms fire sparked off the armored tank droid's flanks, completely uncoordinated, and only vaguely aimed.
"Photoreceptors, below the guns!" Choy shouted, leaning just far enough around the pylon to aim her carbine. She was running out of shots, and double checked that the fire selector was still on single-fire. Choy's targets were about eight cm in diameter, and forty meters away, lit mostly by the spark of blaster bolts.
Choy exhaled and squeezed the trigger.
She missed.
The droid took another step forward, pivoting slightly, and began to pour more fire into a stack of crates that at least five people were sending shots from. The blasterfire from that area stopped after a pair of frag grenades from the droid's dorsal launcher filled that area with concussive force and shrapnel. Two crates fell, knocking 3C-FD onto it's side, the last crate partially pinned the astro droid as well.
Choy heard 3C-FD's screams, as it tried to right itself… something the model couldn't do. It was like hearing the scream of child.
A cacophony of squeals rang out as the gang of gammoreans boiled out of the darkness and into the tank droid's left flank. Two of the nine porcine warriors managed to get their vibroaxes lodged into the thick servomotors on the left leg. They were still trying to yank their weapons back out when the integrated flamethrower turned them into torches.
It did however provide a macabre source of light for Choy.
One of the gammoreans managed to slice off part of one of the blaster cannons. Unfortunately, it was the flash suppressor.
The next set of blasts seared the gammorrean's face, and the tank droid rotated, deploying the flamethrower in a wide arc, at the vibro-axe wielding hostiles around it's feet.
Choy gritted her teeth and resumed trying to pot shot the tank droid's sensors.
She missed a lot. The last gammorrean staggered forward, still on fire, and sunk it's vibro-axe dead center on what looked like the droid's head.
It wasn't.
The enraged warrior's slow death was hastened by a pair of point blank blaster shots through the torso.
Choy dropped the empty carbine, thinking furiously. A heavy blaster bolt sparked off Bao-Dur's shield, spreading crimson light over the near invisible surface, and threw the man deeper into the darkness.
"Choy, get to the door!" Atton shouted, having reached the hanger doorway at some point during the fire fight.
She couldn't. 3C-FD was trapped, but she couldn't cross the four meters of empty space. Not directly in front of the advancing tank droid.
Choy peeked out, to gauge the distance. The tank droid saw her, and sent several blaster bolts at her, which the reinforced power pylon weathered. Choy huddled tighter against the metal tube. Then she heard the snap-hiss of an igniter.
Flamethrower.
The flames would curl around the pylon.
Metal thundered as light bloomed from behind Choy. FS-907 charged through the no-man's-land, leveling both fire suppression emitters as it came and fired. Mist blinded Choy at the point of impact between super-chilled particles and flaming accelerant. Blaster bolts stabbed through the small but dense smoke cloud, the tank droid seeking FS-907. The fire suppression droid didn't flinch, fulfilling its primary duties.
Fires must be suppressed.
The Renewer must be protected.
Choy sprinted for where 3C-FD was pinned by the crates, "Eff-ess, follow!"
Command rejected. Renewer distance to combustibles unacceptable.
Continue with fire suppression. Canister 1 and 2 depleted.
Switch to canister 3 and 4.
Choy shoved the heavy crate off 3C-FD. Flames continued to flicker spasmodically as the flamethrower and the fire suppression streams fought for dominance. The Tank Droid continued to advance, blindly, into the mist, still firing. Some of the bolts found a target, leaving sparks in the mist.
Left fire suppression emitter disabled. Redirect flow to right emitter.
Increase right emitter pressure to 170%. Override safety protocol.
Risk of terminal crush damage approaching. Retreat to safe dist-
Unit-preservation protocol disregarded. Renewer threatened.
Risk to unit…
Necessary.
Choy shoved 3C-FD back upright. "Get to Atton!"
The astro droid didn't argue, and zipped off, chassis low to the ground.
"Effess, retreat, damn you!" Choy shouted desperately. She couldn't even see her droid.
Error. Unable to follow command. Primary motivator damaged.
Right emitter critical failure detected. Override. Maintain task.
Imminent termination of unit via overwhelming crushing force detected.
Service career rating of unit FS-907:
Exceeds expectations.
Goodby-
Choy heard the Tank droid crush something, and the whumph as compressed gas canisters popped. The unmixed gasses blasted the particulates away, leaving a pocket of suddenly clear space around the tank droid. From beneath one massive foot, Choy could see a mangle fire suppression arm.
The pain knifed straight to Choy's heart. Breathless, Choy clutched at her sternum, staring at her dead droid.
And from the pain came clarity.
The Tank Droid must die.
Bao-Dur fired from deeper within the hanger, trying to distract the Tank droid from Choy's hiding place.
Revenge? For a simple machine? The shade asked, bemused.
Not revenge. Justice, for one under my charge, Choy replied coldly, studying her target.
Choy saw something dragging behind the tank droid like an umbilical as it moved past, hunting Bao-Dur through the stack of cargo containers. Another under her charge. Bao-Dur would die.
A data uplink cable.
The mechanic looked at the open access panel to the severed gun relay. The relay was cut, but the power was still there. Exposed.
Without hesitation Choy launched herself from concealment, covered the six meters to her target, snatched up the end of the thick cable as she hurtled past, and dove for the open panel.
The tank droid stepped again and Choy came up painfully short, less than half a meter from the live relay, but there wasn't anymore slack.
Atton stared at Choy, cable in one hand, out in the open, illuminated in the spill of light from an abandoned glow rod. She met his eyes from the across the room, as the Tank droid's blasters turned towards her. He'd seen that kind of look before. A long time ago.
"Choy, don't!" he shouted. The mechanic smiled sickly at him, then darted her free hand into the power conduit.
Choy stared into Atton's eyes as a lightning storm erupting off of her to strike practically every metal surface within ten meters. Atton could not look away. Amid the storm there was an island of stillness and peace. It existed only in her eyes… but it was absolute.
Then the lightning abruptly ended. Choy crumpled to the floor, behind the still standing, albeit smoking, tank droid. Something moved in his chest. Atton didn't notice.
The Exchange didn't pay for dead Jedi.
Atton left the doorway, woodenly walking over to the crumpled shape. He barely noticed as her droid followed, joining him at its master's crumpled form. Something in one of her pockets angrily popped and sparked. Her clothes were smoking.
Damned Jedi, always so quick to play the sacrifice card.
"Damn it Choy," Atton sighed.
The iridonian staggered towards them, falling to one knee next to Atton. His real hand reached down and searched for a pulse at Choy's throat.
"You're wasting your time, she grabbed a live relay," Atton growled.
The big mechanic's hand suddenly darted to Choy's face, cupping her nose and mouth, leaving some blood on her cheek.
"I have a pulse and she's breathing," the iridonian snapped, scooping the woman up into his arms.
Son of a bitch.
Hope flared in Atton again. He might still be able to claim the bounty.
"I'll cover you," Atton promised, grimly pulling out his comlink to signal for extraction.
The iridonian nodded to him curtly.
((()))
Gray mists curled and wafted.
"That was ill advised," the shade observed. Her voice was dry and disapproving.
Choy studied the shadowed shape.
"I can hear you," Choy observed.
"Yes. Our connection is stronger now," the shade agreed thoughtfully.
"Damn," Choy sighed.
"Oh? This concerns you, but electricity does not?" the shade asked sardonically.
"Well, yes. I died," Choy replied, nonplussed.
The shade was silent for a moment, before she began to laugh softly.
Choy started to feel a little foolish.
"Forgive me," the shade said, pausing.
"You live," the shade shook her head, "despite your impulsive actions, you are more powerful than you realize. It is knowledge that you lack."
"The pain though… I could feel the power eating through me," Choy whispered, wincing.
"Indeed. It was a very good first attempt. You very nearly succeeded," the shade observed thoughtfully.
"Nearly succeeded?" Choy asked, despair coloring the edges of this gray world. It had been for nothing…
"Without assistance, but my guidance was only technical in nature," the shade answered.
((()))
The medical centers on Citadel Station were overflowing with casualties from the riot. Most of them were civilians. Atton hadn't seen a medic in at least thirty minutes, crammed among the sweating bodies of people sitting and waiting for news of their loved ones.
Sidik met him roughly an hour after he'd started waiting, from Luxa to pick up the data chips.
[Luxa say good work] the rodian said neutrally, pocketing the handful of silicon and plastic.
"Yeah. We square now?" Atton asked.
Sidik shrugged, [Ask her yourself].
"Can't, I'm waiting to see if my friend is going to die," Atton replied.
The rodian nodded and headed away.
Atton double checked that the holofeeds were ready to temporarily experience a memory dump caused by improper subroutine maintenance, with a single press of his comlink. He hefted the box of candies with the concealed tranq injector, and waited for the damned Iridonian to take a piss.
How long can they hold it?
Roughly six hours, Atton discovered. He'd nearly nodded off twice in the waiting area. The big Iridonian lumbered off towards the 'fresher station and Atton stiffly got to his feet, trying to stretch out the muscle that had seized up in his lower back as he walked, pressing the button on his comlink to disable the cameras. He stepped through the opaque plastic curtain into the tiny medical room Choy had been placed in. The room had a rudimentary biobed that took up most of the three meter by four meter space. Choy was laid out beneath a thin sheet. Sensor were taped to her forehead and chest, with tubes that snaked under the sheet. The astro-droid was powered down in a corner of the room, partially disassembled. It looked like the iridonian had been doing repairs.
Jedi.
Atton tried to find the hate and disgust.
It would be easier.
Instead he kept remembering her eyes amid the storm. Those eyes. So similar. So much like her eyes. He'd known everything important about that Jedi. Except her name.
"Murderer."
Shock tore his gaze from the unconscious woman. Another woman sat in a corner of the room on a supply crate, knees tucked beneath her chin. The puckered hole in her forehead from his blaster still smoked slightly. Atton barely noticed, beyond her eyes.
"I'm awake. You. You can't be here," Atton whispered. Atton's tormentor smiled.
"And yet… you see me," the young woman uncoiled from the crate, an almost predatory slink to her movements.
This was not how the nightmare went.
Atton stared, disorientated.
A hand as cold as death burned at his temple from the brush of icy fingers.
"and you feel me," his victim whispered, satisfaction in her voice, "finally."
Atton's stomach clenched, making the rogue twist to the side. An elbow flew past his head, but it did not belong to a dead Jedi.
This woman was flesh and blood. He caught a flash of silver eyes and white hair, sharp features that flowed to a deceptively delicate chin. Echani.
The flowing recovery for his unexpected dodge caught Atton flat footed, and exploded right under his chin. It also carried him straight to the floor.
The last of the handmaidens stared in annoyance at the crumpled man. Her strike had been perfect. She had made no noise, and had not been within his gaze. His stance had been vulnerable and inward facing, a perfect target.
But she had missed, and been forced to correct. Something that had relit the fire in her ribs. Forcefully, the Echani released her thoughts of recent failure and turned to the task at hand. With her hood down, and in white garb she was easily mistaken for a medical orderly. The last of the handmaidens studied the monitor hooked to her target. She only understood it somewhat, but enough to know that the woman was not in physical danger. That simplified her task. The Echani pulled the hover stretcher into the room, and unzipped the bodybag. It took a minute to transfer the unconscious woman onto the stretcher and into the open bag. Sweat sheened the Echani's brow, but the pain did not show in her movements. Then she was lost in the traffic of the overwhelmed medical facility, just another exhausted menial transporting another dead body in the wake of the mercenary attack. She passed the Iridonian in the tight hallway.
He did not look her way.
Now, she merely needed to reach the ship one of her sisters was busy stealing.