Y164 Slave transport, Brezak
The three of them cautiously walked through the halls of the ship, Grahrk in the lead, Destroyer close behind him and Ketya in the rear, her hands on his belt. So far, they hadn't run into anymore Zygerrians, it seemed Destroyer was right and the majority of them were still aboard the Point of Light. It certainly made things easier for them, but a part of Destroyer felt nervous, it felt wrong not to see his enemies. Things had certainly felt so much simpler on Geonosis, battle droids were so much more direct.
"Are you sure this is the right way, Grahrk?" Destroyer asked. He kept his head facing straight ahead, one eye on the Devaronian and the other on Ketya, watching her through the camera in the back of his helmet.
"Please, Villie knows his way around ships like these, have been on plenty." Grahrk paused, casting a quick glance around a corner. "Though, admittedly never as a prisoner."
Destroyer couldn't help but cringe. Every time Grahrk opened his fanged mouth, he said something that made the commando trust him less and less. Destroyer saw Ketya's lip curl, she seemed about as impressed as he was.
"Which way now?" Destroyer asked as they came to a T-junction, both ways looking identical.
"Is this way, plastoid man! Villie can practically taste the engine oil!" Grahrk exclaimed as he pointed down the left branch with his right hand.
Destroyer and Ketya both casted long glances down the opposite hallway, before going to follow Grahrk as he marched down the left corridor.
After only a minute of walking, Destroyer's sensitive helmet began to pick up the whirring of machinery. Maybe Grahrk was actually right about this, Destroyer thought as the group picked up the pace.
"See? Villie would not lead you wrong!" Grahrk said as he stopped in front of a door, leaning against the wall. "Of course, there is no telling how many Zygerrians there are inside. Plastoid man should take point, is much more heavily armoured than poor, soft Villie!"
Destroyer stared him down for a moment, totally silent. Grahrk frowned, taking the hint and reluctantly hit the release on the door. He hurried in, blaster drawn, Destroyer close on his heels.
"Wha-? What the hell?" A gruff voice cried in alarm.
It seemed that they had caught another break, there was only one being in the engine room, and he seemed to be unarmed; Destroyer saw no blaster in his hands or holstered on his hip. The Zygerrian standing before them was noticeably-
"That is the fattest Zygerrian Villie has ever seen!" Grahrk exclaimed, his lip curling in disgust.
Leave it to Grahrk to be tactful, Destroyer thought. Still, the Devaronian wasn't exactly wrong, the Zygerrian was quite pudgy, and that was putting it mildly. His gut jutted out and stretched the front of his sweat-stained jumpsuit, exposing the soft, red, hairy flesh. His frizzy hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and a pair of goggles covered his eyes.
"The Devaronian!" The mechanic growled, scowling at Grahrk, before turning his attention to Destroyer. "I suppose I have you to thank for letting this kreetles out of his cell?"
"Give the fat Zygerrian a prize!" Grahrk said with a smirk as he kept his blaster trained on the mechanic.
"When Cap'n Misoro gets back, it'll be your head, Devaronian! You thought you had it bad before? I'll be sure to visit your cell every day with a shock prod and durasteel-tipped boots, you sleemo!" Spittle flew from the Zygerrian's mouth as he cursed, baring his teeth.
"Not likely, fat Zygerrian." Grahrk chuckled, a low, almost predatory noise that made the hair on the back of Destroyer's neck stand up. There was the sudden, sharp sound of a blaster going off and the Zygerrian crumpled to the ground. A second later, Ketya squealed, and Destroyer looked back at her in alarm.
"Grahrk!" Destroyer snarled, grabbing the barrel of the Devaronian's blaster and forcing it down. "What the hell was that?!"
Grahrk shot him a confused look. "Villie is not understanding the problem you are having. He was Zygerrian, he was enemy, Villie took care of him."
"We could have questioned him! Found out how many others were aboard the ship!" Destroyer exclaimed. The words he almost let slip before he bit down on his tongue were, And you upset Ketya.
Grahrk shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the commando's anger. "Standard crew on ship like this is fifteen, now is thirteen. This one and the guard you killed in the brig."
"Ten, actually. There were three back aboard the Point of Light," Destroyer corrected.
"Even better then. See? We are making good progress!"
Destroyer chewed the inside of his mouth in thought. It wasn't a bad start, certainly, five eliminated hostiles certainly made their odds a little better, except…."They had battle droids aboard as well. I slotted two of them outside the airlock."
The vicious grin that Grahrk had sported promptly disappeared. "What? You are saying the Zygerrians are having battle droids?"
"B1s at least, but for all I know they have other models too," Destroyer said, his voice grim. If they had B2s or, Force forbid, droidekas…the thought of facing them with just the Devaronian as his backup didn't fill Destroyer with confidence.
Grahrk scowled, "Zygerrian slavers using Trade Federation droids? Is very strange, Villie wonders what it means?" He asked, more to himself than Destroyer.
"Well, we could have asked, if you hadn't…." Destroyer motioned to the Zygerrian's body, smoke still wafting from the blaster hole in his chest.
Grahrk grunted, clearly losing interest again. "We can always find more Zygerrians somewhere else. Or better yet, we don't, we take ship, detach from Republic one and leave Zygerrians high and dry on crippled vessel!"
"That's not happening, Grahrk!" Destroyer said, grabbing an EMP grenade from his belt. "We're sticking to my plan, we're disabling the engines!" He shoved the grenade into Grahrk's hand and pointed. "Get to work!"
Grahrk mumbled something under his breath before turning and walking further into the room, tossing the explosive up and down in his hand. After a moment, Destroyer turned back to Ketya, who was staring at the ceiling and away from the dead body laying crumpled on the ground.
"Ketya? Ketya, are you okay?" Destroyer asked, stepping between her and the Zygerrian's corpse.
Slowly, Ketya lowered her head, keeping her eyes trained on Destroyer's visor. If anything, she seemed to be staring at his armour-plated forehead.
"Y-yeah…?" She said, sounding uncertain. Her lower lip seemed to tremble slightly, and Destroyer winced. "I…I actually saw it happen this time."
Destroyer felt his stomach sink. And after I tried so hard to shield her from this, he thought, clenching his fists. Slowly unclenching one, he held it out to Ketya, who quickly grabbed it, squeezing it tightly.
"Ketya, I am so, so sorry that you did," he said, softly. He let go of her hand to take off his helmet, clipping it to his belt. He peered into her eyes and cupped her face, trying to look as gentle as he possibly could. Ordinarily he might have thought that beyond him, considering the scars on his face, but he thought that somehow it might work with Ketya.
It seemed to be the case too, her body, though tensed just moments ago, seemed to relax and her lip stopped trembling. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before opening them back up and gazing into his own.
She really did have such pretty, green eyes, he thought, unable to look away from them.
They stood like that for a moment, and for Destroyer it seemed to stretch on for forever. When Grahrk cleared his throat, both of them jumped back, startled.
"Is Villie interrupting romantic moment here? Perhaps plastoid man is forgetting that we are on Zygerrian ship with armed slavers and who-knows how many battle droids!" He curled his lip, apparently put off by their display of affection.
Destroyer sighed, and jammed his helmet back on, hoping that the Devaronian had failed to notice his burn scars. He might have been okay with letting Ketya see them, but someone like Grahrk? Well, that just made his skin crawl. On top of that, he felt his face go red, embarrassed that the two of them had been caught like that.
"Forget it, Grahrk, let's just move on. Did you disable the engines?" Destroyer asked. He heard Ketya mutter something under her breath as she slid behind him, putting herself out of Grahrk's sight.
Grahrk held up three fingers, before pulling them down. One…two…three. When the last finger went down, there was a tremendous bang and the three of them struggled to stay upright as the deck juddered beneath them. Destroyer reached out a hand to steady Ketya, who was once again almost knocked over. The lights flickered for a moment, before coming back, but dimmer than they had been before, and Destroyer's helmet compensated to make sure his vision was adequate.
"Engines, disabled," Villie said. "And in way that can be easily fixed when Villie claims what is his."
Destroyer rolled his eyes; he had had his fill of the Devaronian's greed already. "Fine, whatever, just so long as the Zygerrians can't get away."
Grahrk hastily waved him off. "Yes, yes, ship is sufficiently disabled, Villie, Plastoid Man and Yum-Yum not moving!"
Destroyer narrowed his eyes at Grahrk calling Ketya that but decided not to make an issue out of it. "Alright, good, that's one big problem sorted out, but there's still the threat of the crew."
"And the battle droids, cannot be forgetting about them," Grahrk added helpfully.
"Yes, and the battle droids." Please don't have droidekas, please don't have droidekas, Destroyer offered a silent prayer to whoever was listening. He hoped that if it came down to it, Grahrk could be used to soak up any incoming blaster fire.
"Destroyer?" Ketya spoke up, her voice soft so Grahrk would not overhear. "Um, thanks for helping me take my mind off of…." She cocked her head in the direction of the dead Zygerrian, still laying crumpled where Grahrk had shot him. Destroyer momentarily wondered if he should drag him out of sight, or at least make Grahrk do it. Nevermind, no time for that, Destroyer shook the thought from his head, even if it was for Ketya's sake.
"Don't mention it, just looking out for you," he said, trying to project as much warmth and comfort into his voice as he could. He leaned in close enough that only Ketya would be able to hear him. "I'll get you through this, I promise."
Her face flushed a deep red and Destroyer felt his heart pound away in his chest. He fought the urge to hug her again, knowing that Grahrk would only spoil the moment. Again.
Sleemo.
Reluctantly, he stepped away, putting some distance between himself and Ketya. He turned to Grahrk, who was not so-subtly eyeing Ketya, his gaze trailing up and down her body. Destroyer's lip curled, before he stepped in front of her, blocking her from the Devaronian's sight. The annoyed look on Grahrk's face brought a petty little thrill to Destroyer.
"You are having something to say, perhaps, Plastoid Man?" Grahrk asked, trying to subtly crane his neck to the side, only for Destroyer to move his head in turn.
"Yes, which way is the bridge? I want to take care of any remaining crew aboard the ship and that's where they're most likely to be," Destroyer said. "With any luck, the rest of them are still aboard the Point of Light, but that's likely to change very soon, so we need to move fast."
It was perhaps overly optimistic to even assume that the Zygerrians were on the Point of Light at all. Surely by now they would have rounded up his brothers and the senators. They were in all likelihood storming through the halls of their own ships, searching for him. His only chance was that they were still conducting a sweep of the Consular cruiser instead. It was a large ship, with plenty of places to hide, so there was a chance at least, one that he knew he shouldn't wait.
Grahrk quickly strode to the exit of the engine room, taking large, hurried strides, perhaps sharing Destroyer's concern that the Zygerrians could be upon them soon. He cautiously peered through the doorway and as soon as he confirmed that he was not being shot at by angry slavers, turned back to Destroyer.
"Bridge is being this way!" He said, one foot already out the door.
Destroyer waited a moment, holding his hand out to Ketya. "You know the drill, stick close and you'll be safe."
She nodded back at him, offering a thin smile as she took his hand again. The other gripped the back of his belt and she clung on tightly. Despite his larger height, she did remarkably well at matching his long strides.
I can't let her down now, I've promised to keep her safe, Destroyer thought, finding some comfort himself in her proximity.
"What do you mean you can't find him?!" Misoro snarled as her two supposed "top men" reported back to her.
"I mean we've torn this ship apart looking for him and we haven't caught sight of him!" Feldspar replied, standing straight, not showing any sign of nervousness from his captain's anger.
"Just some of his handiwork," Krewe muttered, scowling at the memory of Zen'Zihn sprawled out on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
"Unbelievable! He's just one soldier, how could he slip through our net like this?" Misoro asked, slamming her fist down onto the sapphire-topped table.
After their successful capture of the ship, Misoro had opted to use the ship's dining room as their base aboard the Point of Light as they coordinated their search of the straggler clone. For the moment, their prisoners were being confined aboard the salon pod, its controls disabled to prevent the pod from being jettisoned from the ship. The Senators, the guardsmen and the commandos had all been disarmed and thoroughly bound. On top of that, the two droidekas the Zygerrians had were positioned outside the doors. Escape for their prisoners seemed very, very unlikely.
"Well, we were so busy storming the forward section, he had plenty of time to himself," Feldspar replied, activating a deck plan of the ship and placing it on the table. "We made a clean break from the docking port to the dining room, he could have been in the state rooms, the droid hold, he could even have been in the engine room and our inside man missed him. Frankly, I wouldn't put it past him."
"But now we've searched all of those areas and we still haven't found the kung!" Krewe snapped, slipping into Huttese as he jabbed at the map. "He's not here and he's not here and he's not here! It's like he up and jumped ship!"
A sudden chill ran up Misoro's spine and she sat up. "Jumped ship?" She repeated, weighing the words carefully. She snatched her comlink from her belt and thumbed the activation button. "Krelt? Destin? Report in, now!"
Now that she thought about it, when had the guards she stationed in front of the docking ring last reported in? The possibility that the commando would cross over to the Brezak had never crossed her mind until now, it had been well guarded. And yet, there was an ominous silence coming from her comm, her sentries weren't reporting in.
"He's on our ship, he's on our damn ship!" Misoro exclaimed, leaping up from her seat.
"Oh, frell!" Feldspar said, turning and sprinting out of the room, unholstering his blaster pistol as he did.
"Listen up!" Misoro barked, spittle flying as she raised her comlink back to her lips. "We have a boarder on the Brezak! Drop whatever the kriff you're doing and get your useless exhaust ports back to our ship!"
She was up and running before she finished her sentence, close behind Feldspar's trail. Oh, she was going to sell this one to the most brutal slaver on Rattatak if he had damaged her ship!