- Joined
- Dec 15, 2018
- Messages
- 502
- Reaction score
- 217
Leandros hated this. Imperial uniforms and armor were too stuffy, ill-fitting, and generally uncomfortable to wear. He’d much rather just raid this prison in his own armor, bring fire and fury to these Imperials dressed in clothing he actually wore on a daily basis, and have that be their little story. Instead, Trixie had somehow conned him into wearing looted armor from a convoy they had just raided so that they could break into the prison, take the guards by surprise, and complete their two objectives. Trixie was here for some equipment, and Leandros was here to free some Mandalorians.
Most Imperial prisons would keep their armories and evidence rooms near a central security hub, within which the guards bunked, and most security systems were housed. If they could get there, get the gear, and open all of the cell doors, then they were golden. It’d be a cake walk with most Mandalorians, except Trixie didn’t play by the rules and so the Mand’alor took it upon himself to keep an eye on her in case she blew their cover too soon.
The two “Imperials” drove along in a hijacked Imperial speeder, dressed completely in their stolen garb, armed with their stolen weapons while the rest of their gear sat stowed away in the back, just in case. Leandros was behind the wheel and drove them towards the main gate, their stolen ID card on the dash. ”Can’t believe I let you convince me to take my armor off and wear this crap,” he grumbled to her, ”I’ve got an armor plate pinching an ass cheek and it’s been getting on my nerves the entire drive.”
After a bit, they arrived at the checkpoint. The Imperial manning it poked his head out, looked at Leandros, who held up the now-dead Sergeant Garrick’s identity, then opened the gate for them. So far, this was going without a hitch. He navigated the speeder into the parking lot, stopping it away from the rest of the speeders and facing it out for a quick getaway. After he’d turned it off, he turned to Trixie and glared at her from beneath his helmet.
”The explosions come after we find what we came for.”
@Sreeya
Most Imperial prisons would keep their armories and evidence rooms near a central security hub, within which the guards bunked, and most security systems were housed. If they could get there, get the gear, and open all of the cell doors, then they were golden. It’d be a cake walk with most Mandalorians, except Trixie didn’t play by the rules and so the Mand’alor took it upon himself to keep an eye on her in case she blew their cover too soon.
The two “Imperials” drove along in a hijacked Imperial speeder, dressed completely in their stolen garb, armed with their stolen weapons while the rest of their gear sat stowed away in the back, just in case. Leandros was behind the wheel and drove them towards the main gate, their stolen ID card on the dash. ”Can’t believe I let you convince me to take my armor off and wear this crap,” he grumbled to her, ”I’ve got an armor plate pinching an ass cheek and it’s been getting on my nerves the entire drive.”
After a bit, they arrived at the checkpoint. The Imperial manning it poked his head out, looked at Leandros, who held up the now-dead Sergeant Garrick’s identity, then opened the gate for them. So far, this was going without a hitch. He navigated the speeder into the parking lot, stopping it away from the rest of the speeders and facing it out for a quick getaway. After he’d turned it off, he turned to Trixie and glared at her from beneath his helmet.
”The explosions come after we find what we came for.”
@Sreeya