Event Escape From Mataou - Dead Money

[Drow Venn]

The repeater was a valuable weapon and one that Drow was confident would be useful in the fight against the acklays. But for now, he had to abandon it temporarily as he had not one but two of the crab-like creatures coming at him. Since Acklay 1 was on his left, Drow activated his lightsaber and sidestepped to the right to avoid the slashing legs of the first acklay, only slashing at them with his lightsaber if his sidestepping wasn't enough to keep them away from him.

Then, he focused on the second one charging at him. It looked as though the beast was trying to impale Drow where he stood so Drow wasn't going to stand there anymore. Instead, he waited for the acklay to be in perfect position and then the Ishi Tib leaped up in the air, using the Force to propel himself to be around the height of the acklay's head/neck region. Then he'd slash at the acklay's thin neck, hoping to behead the beast. Drow didn't know much about the science of AMS but even if beheading didn't kill this thing, he figured detaching its sense of smell, hearing and sight was a good start.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The initial terror that had overwhelmed Laeonas' senses was, by this point, entirely extinguished. The boy's aura was that of icy, determined calm, driven by the goals of killing the group's enemies, and escaping.

The left most Acklay(1) had managed to survive the volley of shots that had gone it's way-- in fact, while Laeonas had managed to damage it, the beast failed to care much at all for his attempts, focusing instead on the closest attacker-- the red headed human who he'd been assisting.

Firing again, Laeo actually paused, considering if what he was doing was even necessary. The young woman looked to be fending the beast's attacks off quite well, skillfully dodging it's limbs and attacking in turn.

The beasts were aggression made manifest; entirely driven to kill the very closest living thing. It was a good thing for Laeonas that he had only managed to move a few feet away from the door in which they'd entered; it left him as one of the few out of the immediate attention of all the beasts in question.

To an extent, it meant that he was in the same position as their opponents; he could pick which he could actually attack.

The beasts (1 & 2) that had been leftmost of any others had received numerous blows, both of them covered in carbon scoring and with visible holes in their flesh. The Rancor was actively being engaged by at least one of the Jedi, as both his peripheral vision and connection to the force indicated.

The only two beasts he hadn't accounted for were the rightmost acklays, who had moved in on both the Hunter and the woman that was called sith. Turning, he'd see the attempted attacks by the beasts, with one (3) attempted to bite at the woman-- only to fail and miss when she employed a rather spectacular maneuver out of the way.

"As skilled as she's rude," He briefly thought, before concentrating back on the beasts.

The fourth acklay had divided attentions between the woman and the hunter-- who had appeared to be successfully evading it's attacks. The hunter didn't have the force on his side, and all his weapons relied on distance. He evaded, tucked, and fired-- and the acklay(4) half blind and staggering, kept failing to swing at him.

The situation Laeonas and the rest of them were in at the moment differed from... well, probably anything they'd ever gone through. Still, the boy had plenty of experience with packs of animals attacking him.

There were plenty of things you could do to intimidate a kath hound. Screaming and yelling, rapid movements, attempting to make yourself appear far, far larger than you were.

The acklays didn't have survival instincts anymore; the only thing left of their primitive psyche was the desire to kill, and to devour flesh. Regardless, there was one final lesson that could be applied to their situation, a principle that if properly applied could lead to a cascade of successes, and the deaths of their attackers.

Killing the weakest first.

With the analysis taking up longer than Laeonas would've liked, he made up for the lengthy contemplation by swiveling his entire form from the direction of the further acklays (1 &2) and the perceived threat of the closest-- and more specifically, the one most vulnerable (4).

Firing a volley of shots at the beast's midsection, the shorter range would give Laeonas much greater accuracy. Shots rang from his blaster again and again and again, trigger finger releasing and pressing down in rapid succession.

That wasn't the main thrust of his assault, however. As abruptly as he began firing, he suddenly stopped. Pulling on the force, he focused on the acklay's(4) legs, stumbling and feeble.

Pushing the entire beast's body down would've taken the effort of every force user in the room, and the same amount of concentration as was necessary in dealing with the horde in the hallway.

What he did now was, comparatively, much less ambitious.

Releasing the force outwards, Laeonas attempted to use the Acklay's (4) weakened legs to his own advantage. It wouldn't be dispatched, or thrown across the room-- it would simply lose it's footing, and fall.

Ofcourse, that was only if fate decided he'd succeed.

​

@MatureContentWarningx @Phoenix @Die Shize @Nefieslab @Sreeya @Fantasy Liver @Isen @Reyn @Tulos

 

[Sevrin Valtiere]

Sevrin saw everyone else swarming the acklay, and he knew he had to act fast where he would be most helpful. Zathria’s improvised cocktail explosion took out one of the rancor’s eye, but it still kept moving as if it weren’t fazed the slightest bit. The Sephi rapidly shifted closer to the center of the room, leaping out of the path of anything projecting from the acklay that continued their advance. He had enough faith in the others to bring them down.

The Sephi saw where the eye was damaged, leaving an open and grotesque socket. The rancor hadn’t been engaged by Sevrin yet and he suspected that his attack would come as a surprise. With no acklay going after him specifically, Sevrin was free to launch his attack without any interruptions.

The Jedi drew out his saber and carefully aimed it while the rancor was under attack and focused on Puff. He banked on the rancor doing anything possible to thrash to get away from the flames coming at its eye, but Sevrin launched his saber directly towards the rancor slightly after Puff's attack. The aim was for the saber to sail through the air and wedge directly through the socket. His hope was that it would spear right through the brain and kill it the only way it could be killed.

To facilitate, Sevrin also simultaneously applied a stasis just to the head of the rancor, not powerful enough to hold the entire creature. It was never intended to make it completely pause, but allow just a small fraction of a moment for the saber to find purchase. All of these were attempts and regardless of if they worked, Sevrin would yank the saber out shortly after to maintain his old on it with the Force.

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[The Gatekeeper]

As the assembled treasure hunters fought against the Hutts former pets, the two large blast doors on the right hand and left hand walls began to slowly open. They were close to the furthest wall, keeping the view beyond the doors themselves obscured from the group of adventurers. At the rear of the room the smaller blaster door opened and out from the observation room a veritable tide of people pushed to be free.

From sight alone it was clear that there were at least three dozen people and they all seemed to be wearing rags and the remains of chains. Slaves, kept in the vault to wait hand and foot on the Hutts who owned the planet they lived within. As one, the motley collection of slaves rushed toward the now open blast door to the right.

Amongst the assembled hunters, the Mandalorian woman who had been rescued by Poffo cried out in alarm.

“They’re making a break for it, the scum!”

Before firing her blaster into the crowd, sending them rushing faster when one of her blaster bolts clipped an elderly slave in the side of the throat, sending the old Twi’lek woman spinning to the ground with a spray of blood. The bedraggled slaves hurried toward the right-hand blast doors with even more haste that before. Those among the party could could read Huttese would have a chance to do so now, to translate the signs that pointed to each door.

The Bull Rancor, named J J Dillon by its handlers when they had yet lived, did not feel pain in the same way that a regular Rancor did because of the Infection. AMS was terrifying in part because its sufferers could endure things that would usually kill creatures and force them to continue. So when Poffo sent another series of flaming bursts at Dillon’s head, the creature did not care even as the flames impacted it directly in the mouth due to it continuing the arc of its sweep, lifting its jaw between Poffo and his intended target.

Saliva of Rancor was, slightly, poisonous by nature but usually it didn’t matter since the bite itself usually killed people. But the poison was highly flammable, leading to J J Dillon the Rancor suddenly having a mouthful of flames. When it followed its instincts and roared at the surviving Poffo, it projected its saliva and its fire along with it, sending a belch of fire right back at Poffo as he recovered from his dodge. However, following its instincts to roar stopped the momentum of its head - had it continued to shake its head, the sheer weight and power behind it would have overwhelmed the stasis effect Sevrin put onto Dillon’s skull.

The effect of the thrown lightsaber was immediate - with the head of the Rancor stuck in place, Sevrin’s aim was true and the blade pierced straight into the brain of the Rancor on the left side. The roar would continue as the breath had already been launched from the creature’s mouth but it would be the last conscious action of the Rancor. AMS could do many things to a creature that some (read: all) could see as unnatural but it could not change the fundamental fact that a lightsaber burned far hotter than a flamethrower or an improvised molotov cocktail of hand sanitizer.

Sevrin’s saber would travel back to his hand, the saber hilt itself covered in a sticky, foul-smelling, liquid. The source of the liquid became evident as the eye socket of Dillon the Rancor first began to leak a slightly grey, thick, liquid before a small ‘Crack’ sound was heard by those paying close attention. Whereas before the liquid had been a leak, it became a deluge, grey sludge gushing out of the eye socket as the Rancor collapsed to the ground, spraying the noxious liquid of melting brains and AMS all over the room around it before its head slammed into the ground to rise no more.

The Acklay as far left as could be was Tully - and Tully was having a few issues that even the Infection could not help him power through. Landing would have been painful for Tully had it actually been capable of feeling pain anymore. Landing with its forelegs stabbing down into the ground, it tried to screech in rage as Aska's blade cut through it's left foreleg and Drow's blade cut through the right foreleg. As Drow moved on, Tully keeled forward, barely propping itself up with the stumped remains of its forelegs before the repulsor pulse hit him in the side of the head, rocking the Acklay back and onto its side. Tully, automatically, started scrambling, desperately, to right itself to avoid showing its softer underbelly.

Arn was the second Acklay from the left, the one that had chosen to target Drow during its mad dash attack. Its forelegs thrust down into the duracrete rather than the Jedi as intended, Drow rocketing up into the air to evade. The Acklay known as Arn screeched and thrust its neck forward, trying to bite Drow's head clean off, when Drow's lightsaber flashed out. With the neck mid-stretch, the blade cut through almost the entirety of the neck, almost three fourths of the way, severing the spine. However, the stretching muscles contracted and convulsed, the cauterized flesh broke apart, blood gushing right into Drow's face, dosing the Jedi with the reward for his kill. With the partial decapitation, the body would begin to collapse even as the head itself retained enough motion, enough control to continue aimlessly trying to bite those who came near it.

Ole was second from the right, and he wasn't faring too well. Distracted with Kamelle, Zathria ripped at the broken skin on his torso, creating large areas of exposed muscle. He struggled to avoid it, but found that he was unable. While the flesh tore and she squeezed his heart, pockets of infected blood vessels and newly ruptured vessels, caused blood and pus to spray out from his wounds. As this was occurring, Kamelle evaded the pincers of Ric (the farthest right Acklay) and lashed out with her lightsabers (both owned and borrowed), the blades tearing through Ole’s pincers with absolutely no resistance.

However, the pus and blood erupting from the pulped heart was thick and, being that he was a big beast, there was a lot of it. It splashed in all directions, fluid flying at Zathria and the three others (Kamelle, Kliedden, and Laeonas). Arguable an even more horrible fact was that the creature was still trying to move, even with its heart gone and its ability to move its muscles degraded almost immediately. As Ole collapsed to the ground in a heap, it would continue to aimlessly snap its jaws in the general direction of the adventurers, the Infection still driving it to try and infect others even as its body was physically incapable of doing anything but weakly biting at the air.

Farthest to the right was Ric, the rather vocal Acklay who had previously screeched at Kamelle, who was quick to evade his pincers, before it had turned to try and attack Kliedden for his part in grievously injuring it. The first shot from the mercenary slammed into the knee joint as intended and the flesh was blasted, the knee buckling enough that Ric staggered as though drunk. As Kliedden rolled further away, evading a near-blind slash from Ric as he did so, Laeonas pulled his attention away from Tully to focus on Ric as well. The shots to the midsection scored hits, tearing chunks of muscle and flesh away, but as had been proven before, the flesh of the Acklays was cheap. Ric screeched in Laeonas' general direction and made to try and attack him when Kliedden's second set of shots were fired.

Ric's leg broke off at the knee joint, Kliedden's aim and decision to target the joint coming in clutch to save the young man from needing to dodge. Without the leg, Ric tumbled and staggered - he would have recovered with the help of his other legs had he not immediately been hit by a blast of the Force from Laeonas targeting his legs. Already unsteady, Ric tipped over, its head and face slamming into the duracrete floor hard enough to daze the creature even with the Infection in full control of its brain. Its legs skittered across the ground as it tried to find purchase to push itself back up to its full height again, still half-blindly searching for its attackers.

For those who had been keeping track, the countdown continued to tick down; 4 minutes, 58 seconds remaining.

Spoiler: Creature Names

Acklay 1 = Tully (almost rip)
Acklay 2 = Arn (rip)
Bull Rancor = J J Dillon (rip)
Acklay 3 = Ole (rip)
Acklay 4 = Ric (almost rip)

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[Laeonas Tannaras]

What had happened in the next few seconds, following the connecting blows the group collectively made against their targets, and the beasts' responses in kind, could only be described as a blur.

The attempted counterattack by the acklay he and the hunter had focused on was a spectacular failure, with it's sudden focus on the boy leaving it open to an attack. Kliedden's attacks had only further unsteadied the beast-- and Laeonas' own blast of the force couldn't have ended any better.

Words, shouts, events that even the Jedi in the room would probably struggle to keep up with. For Laeonas, it was blind luck that had caused the following seconds to not end in his immediate infection.

The Mandalorian woman's words, loud and echoing off the walls of the wider halls, caused the boy to turn. In the following moments, however brief, that was all that was necessary to avoid a massive tidal wave of infected juices from entering every open orifice on his own face. Ole's liquids instead coated nearly every inch of the rest of the left side of his body, leaving his clothes soaked and disgusting (more than they already were.)

That was only a minor concern compared to what she had actually said, however. Clearly seeing what the armored woman was doing, Laeo quickly processed who and what she was attacking, and his face subsequently contorted into one of pitiless hate. Pulling up his blaster, he took aim as quickly as he could manage, actually looking through his scope to catch a glimpse of the group of escaping slaves.

Ric, the acklay that the boy and the hunter had focused on, lay on the ground, desperately trying to find it's way back up again. The likelihood of it succeeding in the next few seconds, without Klied or Laeo firing blast after blast into it's brain, was highly unlikely. It was the only rationalization Laeo was able to come up with in the span of a few seconds to justify going from attacking the acklay to firing at unarmed slaves.

It still wasn't very good.

Thinking back to the voice over the comms, Laeonas' mind wandered. The tone, the accent; anything at all. The force had gone from a focused tool, taking Laeonas' concentrated focus, was now a haze of raw power thanks to the hate that was swirling within him. It was these scum that had brought him here, to this doomed world, in this horrible palace, with the promise of everything he could ask for; wealth beyond measure.

He'd thought so, so much about what he could do if he had all the credits available. He'd get his mother out of the slums, and than, he'd build a palace, grander and larger than anything his father or anyone who ACTUALLY had his last name could imagine. He'd fill it with vice of all kinds; spice and dancers, exotic clothes and foods. Servants to wait on him and anyone he happened to like! It'd be glorious.

But that was never going to happen.

The voice; he had to focus on the voice. A bit deep; male, but also distinct from most humanoids. He finally remembered the subtle gruff-ness of the comm-con-man's speech; something familiar to him, based off the scant interactions he'd had with their kind.

Laeonas wanted the comm-con-man dead... but in truth, he could care less about which of the slaves he brought down.

Firing into the crowd, particularly at the bits of the mass with red skin or horns that he could discern, Laeonas waited for an instant to see if the shots connected.

And they didn't.

Standing impotently as he watched the group attempt their escape, Laeo felt himself starting to snap. "YOU KRIFFIN SONS OF SPICE A'DDICTED DANCIN' SLAVES!" He screeched, a high pitched cry dripping with primal, venomous hatred.

Dropping the blaster to his side, Laeonas drew his vibrosword, and started bolting across the room. The murderous rage in both his eyes and his stride told anyone that could see him that he was going to start indiscriminately hacking the escapees to pieces. Covered in guts, and running at a speed that was clearly not natural, the boy might have been mistaken for infected had he not shouted distinguishable words.

Using the force to throw himself forward, he might've actually continued his pursuit if he hadn't noticed that the other blast door had opened.

The haze dulled by the brief flicker in curiosity that crossed the young criminal's mind. Eyes darted to the left, and a word stuck out to the boy that caused him to finally stop in his tracks.

It was the word he'd been praying to read for the entire duration of this excursion.

Roughly translating into basic, VAULT was what read over the opposing blast door.

Laeonas paused, and his eyes, aquamarine and bulging, lit up even further.

These slaves-- the ones who had brought them there, all there; they hadn't made up a promise of riches.

A hutt treasure vault; yet unpilfered, and ripe for the plundering...

...five minutes before the entire area would be blanketed in the explosions caused by turbo laser shots.

Conflicted couldn't even begin to describe how he felt. There were a whole host of outcomes that might come from the decision he was about to make. He could follow the slaves; no longer to pursue an irrelevant revenge, but to escape. To take whatever ships were in the hangar bay, and fly them off planet, before the hutts chose to blanket it in fire.

But there was another decision.

He could turn on his heels, and enter the vault.

He could risk his life to pilfer treasure that wasn't even there. He could stumble around for the remainder of the time he had before the bombardment began, and hope to find anything of value. He could meet his end a number of ways; one of the acklay might get back up and attack him, or maybe a guard now infected with AMS would descend on him before he could realize what was happening. Maybe he just wouldn't be able to get back out in time, join the others on whatever vessels were out there, and make their way off planet.

Or...

...or...

...OR.

...the boy might succeed. He might find the treasure he was looking for, take it, and escape. He might find some ancient gem stone, or some valuable artifacts he could carry out, or any number of things he could sell to coreward collectors or black market traders. His dreams, his aspirations; they could come true. He would never rob, or kill, or extort again. He'd never know what it was like to not know if he'd eat the following day again.

For most people, such a risk couldn't ever be worth it.

But to a boy who'd spent his entire life aspiring to the stars, there wasn't any other choice.

For better, or for worse, the raven haired boy, wearing nothing but a fibrous mesh covered in infected juices, and carrying not but a vibroblade and an antique blaster, turned on his heels, and ran straight into the vault.

​

@MatureContentWarningx @Phoenix @Die Shize @Nefieslab @Sreeya @Fantasy Liver @Isen @Reyn @Tulos

OOC: (entering vault, Death enabled

 

[Zathria]

Zathria felt her saber pried from her grip, and felt a spike of rage for a moment, but knew she couldn't become distracted now. She wrenched and squeezed and the Acklay's body began to shred. She managed to turn her face away to avoid it being covered in further blood, but a new layer of blood and pus was added to the recently dried blood of the Wookiee. Had she had time, she would have shuddered at her current situation.

It kept moving! No, no, no, that wasn't acceptable. She reached out her hand and wrenched her saber back to herself from the Sith and promptly plunged it through the creature's head as it tried to keep snapping at them. She was careful to avoid bites or claws as she did it. The poor thing could be put out of its misery.

She took a step back a moment later only to have her attention drawn to the Mandalorian who was gunning down random civilians. That wasn't working out for Zathria. Her left hand shot up and the Force shot out from it. She delved into the mind and body of the Mandalorian and cast sharp waves along the cochlea. The woman would quickly feel herself overtaken by incredible nausea and the need to vomit as the room would begin to spin around her and her ability to shoot straight and even stand would be completely eliminated. Or at least that was the idea behind Zathria's use of malacia.

I'm going to make sure those people get out of here. And if you intend to hurt them again, vomit on your face is going to be the least of your problems, she said, saber pointing directly at the woman now.

In truth, Zathria's heart and soul was with the woman who had been shot. She wanted to rush over and stem the bleeding. To perhaps try to stop her from dying, but the Jedi was covered in infected blood. The chances that she wouldn't infect the dying woman with AMS was exactly zero, and so there was nothing she could do. Her grip on her saber hilt tightened in anger she tried to suppress. She wanted to lash out at the Mandalorian scum, but that wasn't the Jedi way. It's not the Jedi way. Not the way. Not the way. Placing herself between the murderer and the prisoners, she followed them into the hangar.

@Die Shize @Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Poffo Sauvage]

Spoiler: Theme

Disgusting rancor spit and saliva flew toward Poffo. He had no idea that rancor slobber was poisonous, but that didn't matter. It was gross, and he tried to avoid it. Luckily for him, his super amazing awesome jacket was there to protect him. He turned his back as the rancor and its drool began to fall, and he tucked under that beautiful, but zombie-gut-plastered jacket. The rancor was dead, and it appeared that three of the acklays had gone on to the big insectarium in the sky. But Ric...the heel of all heels, the Dirtiest Insect in the Game...Ric was holding on.

"The Nature Pupa" Ric Flair was having a rough go of it, however. He was nearly dead. His face had connected harshly with the durasteel floor. The beast was trying to stand, but missing feet, he was struggling. Mr. Macho saw this as an opportunity for a defining moment. A high spot, if you will. Poffo shed the flamethrower and bounded up the rancor as quickly as he could. He scrambled up the charred, scaly skin of the rancor and looked down at the dazed acklay. Poffo sized him up, some seven feet above the ground, and gave a stern look and a hard finger point at his target- the acklay's head. Mr. Macho then reached with both hands to the sky and lept to get another foot and a half airborne. His right elbow extended at his target, trying to crush Ric's skull and brain to put him out of his misery and ensure that he could no longer harm the others in the party.

Hit or miss, whether the insect was living or dead, Poffo so saw no reason to take chances. He would use evasive measures (weird, ungraceful forward rolls away from the acklay) if he was unobstructed and then sprint back to his flamethrower. Without looking or checking to see if the animal was alive or dead, he would let loose the last two bursts of flame in this canister toward the insect. He leaned back as he fired the shots yelling, "I'm the tower of power, too sweet to be sour, yeah!"

If all went well, he had to assume that the calculating Klied would prefer to take the more safe route with the hangar. Raxx was already rich. He didn't need to take the risk. Knowing this, if Poffo was still in operational condition, he would start backing his way to the hangar as well.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Kamelle Skyler]

Spoiler: Music OOC [Recurring]

There was a reason that Kamelle had elected to tear through those pincers with one owned and one borrowed lightsaber without following up with a descending delivery of said sabers through Ole’s head or back. Apart from witnessing the Echani’s own efforts, the Sith had earlier experienced a shower of blood and gore on her person from an AMS fool and, courtesy of said Echani, had been able to clean it up. Thus, had she not cleared her landing a safer distance away from her quarry, she might have wished for that hand sanitizer to not have become a molotov cocktail.

Ole..? Kamelle blinked. How had that name entered her head again? Whatever, both sabers were deignited just then as she danced her fingers through the air, pushing and pulling a spray of Infected Ole blood and pus away from her general direction. A percentage of it still spattered on her person. However, that one idiot with a flamethrower and a super amazing awesome jacket had taught her a vital lesson in turning her back so that said blood and pus did not cover her face. Like Jedi-Sith romances, you could learn smart things from stupid people.

Just then, one of those saber-hilts went flying from Kamelle’s grip. She wasn’t much fazed, given that Jar’Kai wasn’t really her thing and ‘borrowing’ meant ‘returning’ so hey. Though the Sith couldn’t quite have the Jedi take all the glory. In unison, as the latter’s blue blade plunged into Ole’s skull, the former hurled her red blade through its neck so that a decapitated head was also perforated. Like a room of boomerangs, then, the hilt returned to Kamelle a moment later.

A moment later and some random Mandalorian was gunning down random civilians. That worked well for Kamelle since anyone who distracted the AMS creatures meant a higher chance of survival for her. She quickly caught onto the doors that were opening on multiple sides. That meant escape. That means screw all of you shitheads and have fun! With that, Kamelle took off running.

She couldn’t read Huttese but she could read one angsty teen’s screams like an acklay’s screeches. As Screamer took off toward a blast door the Sith followed behind him. One door looked as good as the other in a room filled with fools and freaks and especially so when she had someone who could serve as a sacrifice for her own survival if the occasion called for it. Given that this particular moron liked to draw attention to himself by yelling a lot, well, he would probably be the first to die. That would work out well.



OOC: Entering Vault, death-enabled



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[Kliedden Raxx]

Just like Laeonas, Klied was also distracted by the Mandalorian woman's shouts, looking over his shoulder just as he was hit with yet another shower of blood and guts on his right side from the dying Acklay Ole. Yep, definitely never wearing this coat again. But there were more important matters. More infuriating matters. "What the hell?" He muttered confusedly as he watched the throng of slaves making a break for the now open blast doors. As he put two and two together in his head his brow furrowed and he grit his teeth. Oh yes that was right. They'd been played and now the bastards were trying to leave them to their fate while they ran. One thing the hunter could not stand was being used.

With a growl he first turned back to the Acklay, which looked like a Ric to him for some reason. The creature was fumbling on the floor but still refused to die. The Onderonian would step as close as he dared without coming into range of those pincers and fire several shots aimed towards it's head, hoping to put it down for good. Without wasting any time he would then turn back around to face the crowd of fleeing slaves. Overcome by his anger and not thinking rationally, his eyes quickly scanned over the throng as his grip tightened on his blaster. For one reason or another the screaming kid had picked out one man to fire at, although his shots had missed. Knowing the kid was a Jedi, or a Sith or whatever kind of space wizard he was, that was enough evidence for the hunter to believe it was the man from the intercom. The one with which he had business. And where the kid had missed he intended to hit his mark. The hunter raised his blaster, aimed carefully and fired. Only to have his shot hit not the man he believed to be responsible for all his current problems, but some random teenaged slave that unfortunately stepped in his path at the worst possible time.

As the kid spun to the ground injured Klied immediately lowered his weapon, all the color draining from his face as his expression transformed instantaneously from one of rage to horror. Had he actually just fired into a crowd of civilians? "Shit." He cursed under his breath as he holstered his weapon and immediately made a break towards the injured slave. "Aska! Poffo! I need you!" He shouted as he glanced over his shoulder, not caring which of his partners answered him. He just knew he would need help carrying the kid, since he didn't want to risk the infected grime on his body getting in the blaster wound. If he was able to get close enough, he would immediately begin to try and help the slave up if they were able to walk. "Ah kark, I'm sorry kid," He would say worriedly. "I didn't mean it I swear..."

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[Aska Ryun]

Aska watched as the Acklay laid on it’s side, squirming in an effort to once more be upright and continue it’s attack. Without it’s front legs, however, it was finding the task to be nearly impossible. As Tully rocked back and forth while failing to scream in frustration, the woman took a few steps back and leveled the DX-2 with the beast’s exposed underbelly. Blood and pus seeped from open wounds, indicating to the clone that a few rounds from the disintigrator would begin to eat away at the internal organs almost immediately but she also didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Firing four rounds into the soft and deformed tissue, Aska then turned the blaster toward the rearing head of the creature and fired the final three rounds of the clip.

The calling cry of the Mandalorian spurred Aska’s attention from the beast, forcing her to turn and see the two doors. To the left, a crowd of frightened and fleeing slaves hurrying to the hangar, indicated by the sign above. To the right… The treasury of the Hutt who had once owned this bunker.

This was it. This was her chance to claim the reward that had been promised to them. Her ship remained on the other side of the facility along with every bit of wealth she had accrued over the past many months. It was all but lost. But here, an opportunity to make it all back!

"Aska! Poffo! I need you!"

Klied’s voice rang out to her and as she turned to see just what it was the hunter had gotten himself into, she roared out in frustration. The teenage slave laid on the ground, a smoking wound clearly visible on his side. Had Klied actually just shot into a crowd of innocents? And missed?

Torn between helping her companion fix his mistake or chasing after the Sith and human boy as they ventured further into the vault, Aska’s eyes darted from door to door. She certainly did not want to leave here empty handed, with far less than she had when she arrived. But she also wanted to leave here period. Time was running out, after all.

”I already know I’m going to regret this,” the clone growled as she placed the saber on her belt and the DX-2 in behind her chest plate. Immediately after, she raced over to Klied and the wounded slave, raising his left arm over her shoulder. ”He’s not kidding. He’s just that bad of a shot,” Aska teased in an effort to try and subdue the disappointment she felt at walking away from such an opportunity. But there would at least be other jobs where she could make it all back.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx​

 

[Drow Venn]

Who named these things? JJ Dillon? Ric and Ole had clearly been named by someone a fan of the Naboo Security Forces back in the day but, for the life of him, Drow couldn't decipher any of the other names he saw for the acklay and the rancor. Must be a new generation thing.

Fortunately, however, it didn't seem like he needed to worry very much about their names anymore because they were dropping like flies. In fact, Drow himself had just killed one with a less-than-neat blow to the head that sent a geyser of blood rushing to his head. As disgusting as that was, what was even more disgusting was the state of the slaves now rushing for escape and the callous murder of them by the Mandalorian woman. Drow didn't know who the Mandalorian woman was but he'd long had beef with slavers and had an intolerance for those who harmed innocents. Drow, at the moment, didn't particularly care about morals or the Jedi Code as righteous anger swept over him. As the Mandalorian woman was beset by Zathrias malachia, Drow came over and sought to slice off her weapon's arm wherever there was a gap in her armor. If successful, he'd follow that up with Force Pushing her into the nearest wall hard .

"She made her choice." he said darkly to Zathria before switching his comm channel over to his astromech in his Y-Wing who had been beeping at him nervously about the Hutt fleet

"Sparky, get out of there. I'm stealing a ship down here and I'll meet you back home, okay buddy?" Drow reassured his droid before grabbing his newly found repeater and heading to the hangar, doing his best to direct the scared and unorganized mess of slaves to evacuate as safely and efficiently as possible, seeking to take the ships with the largest carrying capacity.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[The Gatekeeper]

Zathria’s saber flew from her grip and a moment later Ole the Ackley was crushed, foul viscera and thick ooze spraying from its cracked carapace and exposed muscle and organs. It snapped weakly in the Jedi’s direction, tongue lolling from between teeth that dripped with a mix of diseased saliva and blood. The Jedi’s saber returned to pierce its skull at the same time as Kamelle’s blade was thrown through the air to sever Ole’s head from its neck. Zathria would find herself with an undead acklay’s head impaled on her lightsaber. The skull slipped down as the heat burned through it under power of gravity before thumping to the ground in a gorey heap, black smoke emitting from what was left.


Ric flaired and flailed out, scrabbling along the ground in its dazed state and trying to find purchase. To the side Poffo climbed atop the fallen rancor to take the high ground, dead flesh squishing beneath him the entire way up. He declared his target with a finger and leapt from the rancor, soaring through the air like a particularly muscular and blood-covered brick to dive elbow-first down on Ric’s skull. Bone met bone with a sickening crack and Poffo would find both that Ric was very stunned, already damaged skull cracking open and spilling the brains within. Pain would go through Poffo’s elbow while he awkwardly rolled away across the blood-covered ground, picking up new and interesting pieces of infected flesh along the way to decorate his jacket, before unleashing the last bursts of flame on the writhing acklay.


Ric lay there, twitching grotesquely and smoking while it burned. Tully was finished off the most quickly, a series of disintegrator rounds reducing its internals to goopy slag and ash while the following three more left it with only a smoking shape that had once been a head.


The Mandalorian woman took the most direct course to the vault after scattering slaves with blaster fire. Zathria’s efforts on her sense of balance resulted in a sudden stumble and heaving retching behind the helmet, vomit splashing against the inside and then out onto the ground as it was hastily pulled off her head. Drow approached her on the offensive and she tried to dodge away from the blow but the strange and sudden vertigo threw her off. She fell to the floor and fired wild and uncoordinated shots at the attacking Jedi while her helmet rolled away, eyes wide and trying to drag herself backward toward the vault path.


Amidst the throng of ragged slaves the young teen Kliedden shot complained with a mix of crying and swearing in huttese, worsening as he was lifted from the ground by Kliedden and Aska. The shot had impacted across his ribs as he ran and wasn’t looking particularly good even if it wasn’t immediately lethal. With the help he got to his feet with grit teeth and more swearing, lacking the strength or conviction to really resist them.


Other slaves ran wildly down the path leading to the hangar spurred on by the attacks against them, blaster shots from Laeonas flying through empty air to impact loudly against walls. The young man's enraged screaming and rapid charge put a new pep in their steps as they fled. The slaves were joined at varying speeds by the intrepid and ragtag band of adventurers toward the hangar itself, the hallway unremarkable aside from the signs in Huttesse and the echoing screams and shouts from a trapped people who suddenly found themselves both freed and under attack.


It was an absolutely massive area. Those who took this path would see a wide array of ships both large and small, even some bulk transports sitting in storage. Some slaves shouted in disarray and began to debate in raised voices and in mixed languages, trying to decide which ship to take and who would be doing what. A few others shot off at a run toward different fighter craft themselves, determined to survive the impending bombardment.


Each ship was in good repair and merely waiting to be used, the complex empty aside from the slaves and adventurers themselves. Outsiders weren’t meant to be here in the first place after all and as a result security was virtually non-existent. There was also scant leadership among the gathered slaves and from the way it looked most of them would stand around debating until the very literal end of the world.


Laeonas halted his charge and instead ran down the path to the vault with Kamelle following up behind him, steps thumping loudly on the flooring as they went. It was a long, wide-open corridor decorated in the Hutt style with aging finery over durasteel walls, floor, and ceiling. The end was in the far distance and presented a barred door, but before they’d even gone a quarter of the down down the two bold vault-goers were met with something else.


Down the hall they would find themselves accosted by the booming sound of an obviously synthetic voice through speakers in the ceiling. This new voice shouted two words in sequence, speaking first in Basic and then Huttese.


“HALT! AUTHORIZATION!?” “YOUKA! MOGKESA!?”

Spoiler: Hangar Notes

Any ship of 120m or less may be present in the hangar. Crew requirements may be filled in by slaves as needed.

@Sreeya @Phoenix @Tom @Tulos @Reyn @Die Shize @Isen @Fantasy Liver

 

[Zathria]

Zathria watched as Drow roughed up the Mandalorian woman even more. It was difficult to argue with his assessment of the situation. With the Mandalorian murderer and the Sith running off toward the vault, Zathria decided it was best to wash her proverbial hands of this place. Save who she could... the actual innocents.

Heading into the hangar it was... big. Far bigger than she had expected with ships of all different sorts. Already she could hear the arguing beginning among the escaped prisoners, but they had... three minutes to get out? Maybe? It was hard to say, but it certainly wasn't time for arguing.

All right, three minutes until this place is gone, she said, letting her voice echo through the Force and boom over the cacophony of the arguing people.

You, come with me, she said, pointing to about a third of the people.

You, go with him, she said, motioning to a second group and then pointing to Drow (@Fantasy Liver).

And you all, go with him! she said, motioning to the last group and then Sevrin (@Sreeya). They all knew how to fly, and could each help get the innocents out of here. They needed a unifying voice or they were all going to die.

Force be with you both, she said to both Drow and Sevrin, though they'd be seeing each other again quite soon.

With that, she headed for one of the freighters, a VCX-100 with auxillary fighter and without losing a beat, started preparing the ship for take off with as many of the slaves as she could fit.

@nefeislab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Kliedden Raxx]

Klied didn't really react to Aska's teasing. He was much too focused on the kid bleeding out as they helped him along towards the hangar. "Chaca-oba bu nanka!" He told the teenager urgently in his broken Huttese, making the gesture of pressing his free hand to his own ribs. They had to try and stem the bleeding, but he didn't want to touch the kid himself while he was still half covered in undead acklay goop. It would be pointless to save him from his wound only for him to die to infection.

As they entered the massive docking area the hunter's eyes quickly scanned over the assembled ships. He needed one of the bigger ones, one that would have a built-in med bay. Finally his eyes fell on a Crusader II-class corvette. That would do. As he moved with his charge towards the ship he looked over the assembled slaves. The Jedi seemed to be trying to organize them into groups to flee. He would need some of them to come with him if he wanted to operate the Crusader.

"Yauma mi!" He shouted towards the crowd in Huttese, nodding to their fellow slave he was carrying to try and earn their sympathy. He only needed to convince four or five of them. He licked his lips as he desperately tried to think of something that might convince them. "Yauma mi, an Jee hatkocanh woy uba meoo!" His accent was awful, but hopefully he got his meaning across and some of the greedier slaves would follow. "Help me and I swear by all the stars I will make you rich!" He pleaded again in Basic. Without waiting for a response he'd make his way up the open ramp onto the Crusader, trying to find the vessel's med bay so he could hopefully stabilize the kid's wound before he lost him. In the meantime he could only hope a handful of the other slaves had answered his plea and were starting up the corvette to get them all out of this hellhole.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Aska Ryun]

Aska cringed as Klied began to plead some of the slaves for their assistance. His accent was god awful, enough to make a Hutt offended as he slaughtered their already choppy language. As her attention shifted towards the corvette that he had been leading them towards, however, a particularly beautiful ship just beyond it caught her eye. During her time as a dock worker on Nar Shadda, Aska had seen an IFST freighter and was entirely enamored by it’s sleek design. The pilot’s boasting of the vessel’s speeds only further cemented her admiration of the craft and since she was about to lose the Dynamic-II to the orbital bombardment, the clone couldn’t deny her greed.

”Get him on board and get this thing air borne!” Aska absently shouted as she tore away from her partner and his injured responsibility. Despite Klied’s massacre of the language, the woman had little doubt that a handful of slaves would comply with his request and rush to aide their wounded, giving him the man power he would need to get the Crusader into the sky. She, however, wanted to get a little something for herself and tore towards the IFST and up into it’s cargo bay. Crates with unknown contents littered the open space at the rear of the vessel but the path towards the cock pit remained clear and the clone was able to throw herself into the pilot’s seat.

The ship was immaculate, everything she had imagined it would be when she watched the same model tear away from the docks. The engines purred to life as she activated the power cells and as she began to bring the craft off the ground, it was clear that she could operate the freighter with ease by herself. For the first time since she had arrived at this hell hole, a giant grin was plastered across her face.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx​

 

[Poffo Sauvage]

Poffo didn't notice it at first, but after the adrenaline of dropping his signature flying elbow on Ric, he probably chipped off a piece of his elbow. He found that he couldn't extend it fully, and it hurt like the dickens unless he held it just so. To make matters worse, in the hustle and bustle and with the number of slaves running amok after being freed, he lost track of Aska and Klied. But, if things were as dire as the alarm and voice indicated (which Poffo had more or less still convinced himself that it was not), then he needed to get off this rock pronto. He had full faith that both Aska and Klied were capable enough to do it without him.

He ran into the hangar with his wild and crazy jacket, the flame thrower slung over his shoulder, and his beard now matted with guts and goo. He ran into an empty ship, an INVIGILATOR-CLASS DURACLAD, and stood on the ramp looking inside. It was so...Poffo. It didn't look fast, but looking at the number and size of the guns, it packed a punch. And it certainly looked like it could take a punch as well. One major problem. Poffo didn't know how to fly a paper airplane, much less pilot a ship. He turned around and yelled, "Hey! I need someone who can fly this bucket of bolts!" People continued to run by, leaving him behind. They were trying to get off out there, and that meant getting on a ship that had someone in it that knew how to get it out of the hangar.

Poffo yelled out, changing his pitch. "Who wants a new job? Cash money! Oooh, yeaa-aah! Just need to be able to fly!"

One of the slaves, a purplish-colored Dug, stopped, turned around held himself as high as he could on his hind arms. "Cash money, eh...heh...heh..heh...How many credits?!?" he asked over and through the running crowd.

"How about your life starters, you ungrateful..." Poffo thought better of it a he really needed a pilot. "Negotiable, but the first payment is the pilot's seat on a ship getting out of here!"

The Dug looked away in thought for just a moment and then realized...whatever he got paid would be better more than not getting paid at all. He was just looking for any ride out of there seconds ago, so he started to walk over on his back arms and said, "Ok, ok, ok. You drive a hard bargain, you obnoxiously-dressed freak." He turned around whistled to a group of about seven or eight other slaves. He waved them over and looked at Poffo. "Ah...a tough old Bespin model, huh? Good choice...good choice. Gonna take a wallop to knock you out of the sky, eh.....We're gonna need a crew to get the most out of it though. For the guns and whatnot." The Dug pilot didn't even ask for permission to bring the others on, but Poffo wasn't in a position to quibble about it. The slaves passed him on the ramp and made their way to the pilot's control. Poffo followed him up and took a seat in the co-pilot's chair in the cockpit.

It sure seemed that the slaves knew what they were doing. They went to man the guns, the control rooms, the whole bit, without asking questions or looking for manuals. Before Poffo knew it, the ship was firing off and ready to take off.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Laeonas' run, as quick and as desperate and revenge driven as it was, gradually slowed as he went down the corridor. Duracrete and Durasteel were replaced by an increasing number of finery-- making the boy, still covered in rotting flesh, look even worse simply by contrast.

Deciding to change that, Laeonas caught mesh's seam with his fingers, and pulled. Slowly coming off, the boy wore nothing, exposing raw torso. Immodest, but still better than appearing caked in flesh.

Running a hand through his hair and catching any bits of flesh his fingers could grab, he quickly wiped it off on the carpet.

The grooming session ended shortly after, with the boy immediately breaking back into a run. Laeonas knew that every second counted at this point; they'd probably only have a few minutes to escape. He'd sensed that someone else had continued after him-- the woman with the red saber, much to his chagrin.

The grooming ritual probably confused the human woman that the Jedi had started calling Sith. Laeonas wasn't... entirely sure if it was an accurate assessment, seeing as this one didn't seem to intent on shooting everyone in the room with lightning, or killing the lot of them wholesale, which all the ones he'd met seemed to enjoy doing.

He did still think that she was a schutta however.

Finding his way further down the (relatively) ornate corridor, Laeonas tried once more to use the force to discern what might happen. Once again, he found himself unable to perceive anything. Frustrated, the boy was about to curse his own luck-- before realizing that the only time the force had made anything clear to him through this process... was when he nearly got killed by infected beasts.

"Maybe it's a good sign." He muttered, making his way forward.

Glancing behind him, the woman had, as he'd initially noticed, continued to follow close behind him, just as intent on reaching the vault. Perhaps their interests were more similar than they had suspected-- though, that wasn't certain. She might decide to get greedy, and decide that the sum total of wealth that could conquer a dozen world should only belong to her.

But even she couldn't be that foolish.

Laeonas had seen that she was capable of working with others, at least to her own benefit. To kill him, or betray him, now, in this critical moment? It wouldn't end well for either of them-- she had to know that, she had to.

Still... if he made himself inconvenient, got in her way-- it wouldn't be impossible that the both of them would come to blows. Becoming a problem for her wasn't going to be a goal of his-- right now, the only ones he had were to get out alive, and get out rich.

Besides, they'd need each other's help to carry everything out of here.

With the door in site, Laeonas was about to speed up-- until he stopped, as a synthetic, booming voice rang through. It made the same demand, in two languages-- and the boy froze.

"Au'ther'azation?" He thought, trying to call back to any of the times security might have come up as an issue. Turning his head to the only other one in the hall, he gave an uncertain look.

It didn't want a password. At least, Laeonas couldn't think of a single time on the entirety of their hellish journey in here that they were ever asked for one. Hell, the hunter had gotten into the security system-- however poorly that had gone-- without one.

Whatever was beyond the door, making the demands for authorization, wasn't asking for a single word or keyphrase to get into the vault... at least, he hoped. So, what could it want? Identity confirmations? An explanation for their being here?

The boy paused mentally, pulling at his hairs in frustration. The time was passing rapidly, and they had to act fast. It would take to long to come up with a convincing lie, and whatever the voice was probably had access to the security systems if it could control the doors or keep them out-- meaning that it knew what was about to happen.

Thinking further, Laeonas realized that it probably had access to the transmission sent out as well. The slaves had sent a distress call-- and had promised a reward. The treasure was here, but was it a lie? Did they have the power to command these doors to open? Would their seal of approval be what got the two humans inside?

Perhaps not, but there was only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breathe, Laeonas bowed his head, and outstretched his arms.

"Ah'cho a'pen'kee!" He began, a wide, forced grin on his face. His accent was somehow even worse in huttese. "Doh'bra Lae'o'nas Tann'ar'as!"

Listening to himself, the boy visibly cringed, and simply decided to slip back into basic. "Ai 'ave been summoned 'ere! This compound and all it's in'abit'ants need ta leave, and so does this vaults contents! Tha hutts servants 'ave given us permission ta save tha contents of this vault, as well as their own lives!" He hurriedly explained, trying to give a formal tone.

"Ai would go in'ta more details, but all Ai say now is tha truth! We 'ave no further taime ta discuss; allow us..." He began, before turning, and realizing he still didn't know the woman's name. "...allow me and mae... partner... ta enter tha vault! Tha sevants of tha hutts command it, and their laives exist ta perpetuate that master's of this vault's will-- and by actin' in their interests, therefore, so does our request!"

"There's yer kriffin' authorization..." He muttered, beads of sweat manifesting on his forehead. If they were lucky, turbolasers would simply appear out of the walls and blast them to bits. Still, Laeonas had told the truth-- the slaves had called them here, and had told them they could take whatever they wanted.

He couldn't imagine why the explicit approval of the servants of the hutts to come in couldn't be enough-- but it wasn't like there were many other options. This thing probably knew that the Hutts hadn't made any requests directly-- so their only possible appeal for legitimate authorization came through the next best thing.

Standing in place, the boy held his hands in place, not yet moving for his blaster-- but it wasn't like his hands weren't ready to flip around and start firing at anything that started firing at them.

​

@MatureContentWarningx @Phoenix @Die Shize @Nefieslab @Sreeya @Fantasy Liver @Isen @Reyn @Tulos


Translations: "Hello!" "I am Laeonas Tannaras!"

 

[Drow Venn]

Drow easily deflected the wildly fired blasts from the Mandalorian woman into her armor, his Force Push interrupted. Wanting to finish this as quickly as possible, he kept on dodging and deflecting the laser blasts before swinging his lightsaber to behead the now helmet-less woman. Since she was crawling and still reeling from vertigo, it should have been an easy swing. It was cold and it was gruesome but it needed to be done. The last thing Drow needed was for a grudge-bearing Mandalorian to come after him and these slaves.

Assuming the Mandalorian was no longer a threat, Drow was aware that this was a high-stakes situation they were in and that time was of the essence to get everybody out safely. But , as an old soldier and a lover of antique military tech, he was also aware that some of these ships were far more badass than others. Spotting a truly awesome looking Hammerhead corvette with a sick looking black and yellow paint job, Drow waved any lingering slaves of the group Zathria had sent his way into the impressive hold of the ship.

"May the Force be with you too!" Drow replied back to Zathria before climbing in and beginning the takeoff procedure, instructing anyone with flight experience to help him and anyone without to stay out of the way until they were airborne.

@MatureContentWarningx @Nefieslab

 

[Kamelle Skyler]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Wait… Kamelle looked around the corridor. This is not the hangar... That’s what she gets for following the mule. Kamelle had the excuse of bolting toward the closest door and person who could read the sign above it. Meanwhile, everyone else was probably in ships by now, leaving Kamelle to die in some Hutt's vault with some shirtless temper tantrum of a teenager. Oh well… If I die I’ll be spared his screaming and be too dead to worry about dying.

The voice mentioned authorization. Passcode? They had not found one since entering the bunker. ID card? There was just that Gran laborer's when they got their first dose of blood and gore that caked Kamelle's clothing. Sacrifice? She looked at Screamer. Her lightsaber was in her right hand but not ignited.

She didn't understand his Huttese but said nothing when he mentioned 'partner' in Basic. Names were unimportant and she was content with letting him fork words for her to chew on, listening with one ear while focusing on her surroundings. In an instant she recalled the voice of the one who had called everyone to the planet.

It spoke of the Hutt who fled the facility after engineering a virus release to overcome the competition, deciding to get rid of the evidence by bombing said facility into smithereens. If this ‘synthetic voice’ was sympathetic to the Hutt then Screamer’s spiel about preserving the servants and whatever was (not?) in the vault might get him shot. After all, if the Hutt master did not want his treasure and servants destroyed then why leave them behind?

Kamelle mused on that for a moment. She had already considered the scenario of the vault surviving the blast and holding a secret exit, and maybe that voice was sympathetic to someone else. Still, there wasn’t much she could say without repeating Screamer and getting both of them shot so she kept quiet and stayed focused.

Maybe Screamer had not been trained properly and this upset him so much that he evolved into the dunce he was today. Kamelle could not relate. She was a trained Sith. Drawing on the profound power that binds the stuff with the things, her sense and sight stretched forth. Her attempts were on mapping the corridor that she could see with everywhere around it that she could not see; beyond the door, behind the walls, beneath the floor, above the ceiling. She did not stop there.

The Sith’s ears were poised for the slightest variation in sounds. If turbolasers were tucked away to target her then she might detect them in time. Further, whether the speakers’ voice would respond in Huttese or not, she wanted to understand it as if a person might be behind it and not just a machine. Whatever her findings overall, Kamelle settled for concentrating instead of rambling like her counterpart had, with or without authorization.

@Nefieslab @MatureContentWarningx
@Tom

 

[The Gatekeeper]

The Mandalorian was unprepared to actually defend against Drow's slash with his lightsaber and it would be evident as her head was separated from her shoulders. As Zathria ordered and corralled her fellow Jedi to take care of some of the former slaves, several of them would be persuaded to join with the non-Force Users.

As much as people were happy to see the Jedi, there was still a rampant distrust of Force Users in the Galaxy. Did it make sense to go with the greased up man who had elbow-dropped an Acklay over the Jedi? To these people? Absolutely.

Still, there were some who made a break for it on their own, grabbing fighters and smaller freighters to get themselves out of there. The teenager that Kliedden had hit whimpered but nodded along with the Mercenary, allowing themselves to be led away to the corvette he had chosen. Some of the slaves that followed along with them were more focused on the injured teen than actually helping to fly the ship.

It would be the same story with all of the rest of the ships as well; the freed slaves would assist the treasure hunters in flying their ships to safety but that was it. If they were not required specifically for the flying or the hyperspace calculations they would not be manning stations, leaving the departing ships mostly devoid of their weapons.

--

There was silence as the system processed what it was that Laeonas had said. The two of them would have a few seconds warning, a whirling sound, that heralded the answer the security system had for their attempts at "authorization". Unsurprisingly, being invited by a collection of slaves did not work as authorization to visit the inner vault itself.

On both sides of the door small holes opened up in the floor, the whirling sound revealed to be two ascending platforms. Atop each platform was a Droidika, already with their shields deployed. Unlike what could usually be expected, however, the two droids resisted shooting.

Instead the system spoke again, giving a warning in both Basic and Huttese.

"Remove yourselves or be destroyed!" // "Yatuka mee kae mo doth sakhee!"

The reason why the system was resisting the urge to just simply open fire was that it had been receiving communication from the fleet above. Once the power had come back online, the Hutts in their ships had been made aware that their vault was being infiltrated. Rather than actively try and kill the intruders, the droids and the system were working to delay.

Between the two droids the doorway was barred, literally, with shiny silver bars of metal with black metal fixtures.

Very imposing and very obviously built to keep them exactly where they were currently.

--

3:59​

@Sreeya @Phoenix @Die Shize @Isen @Reyn @Tulos @Tom @Fantasy Liver