Private A Helping Hand

[Judah Dashiell]

HAPES

Danger Arceneau​

Who would have thought one little wedding would be the root of so much suffering?

Located in a blown-out factory that provided no safety, only cover for the rain, a massive group of aid workers had assembled. Up to one side, a holographic map was projected, portions of the city lit in varying shades of orange and red. Sites where it was too dangerous to tread, where aid couldn't be delivered in the moment. Despite their designation as humanitarian workers, none were risking moving too close to some of the pockets of fire. Fighting was fierce between the Hapan military and the Crimson Veil, urban warfare where enemy and friendly could be easily misconstrued.

Instead various groups worked inside the temporary facility as explosions and blaster fire could be heard in the distance. Coordination of food, water, and medicine was most important as normal supply chains had been disrupted.

Judah had just brought in a mess of supplies on a massive Titanic Cargo Carrier, cleared out of his normal salvage business and filled to the brim. The very slow process of bringing cargo into staging areas had begun and he was able to walk around and observe the operation. Talks has been circulating if he could transport refugees on the way back, which he found acceptable, but logistically with the fighting might take a few moments to figure out. There were only so many spaces large enough for such a vessel.

Observing the crowds, he finally spotted a familiar sight ; the flame read hair of one Trade Queen. Judah paused, unsure if he should approach. At one point in time he would have bounded over to her like an idiot. Now, he was simply an idiot. His luck with women was not good lately, even in the friendship department. Still, he could at least say hello, he always held out hope.

Carefully he approached her, as if trying to keep a wild nerf from running off.

"Miss Arceneau, a welcomed surprise to see you here."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Objective: Conduct Business
Interacting with:
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger stood at the heart of the relief efforts. Dressed in a modest black blouse, gray slacks, and a supple leather jacket that hugged her frame without hindering movement, she carried herself with the quiet authority of a woman who had long learned to navigate the crisis with grace.

The tragedy at the royal wedding had ignited a firestorm no one had foreseen -- least of all from the Queen of Hapes herself. The fallout was still unraveling, violent and unpredictable, but Danger had moved swiftly. Arceneau Trade's subsidiaries had deployed a travel advisory, yet Pharmatech and Arckuhn Medical, firmly rooted in Consortium space, required a more delicate hand. The Eve Foundation had been mobilized, its resources directed toward aiding the civilian population caught in the crossfire. She could only hope that her neutral stance -- and perhaps the simple fact of her being a woman -- would grant her a measure of protection against retaliation from the Hapans.

Time would tell.

The voice that cut through the low murmur of ongoing relief coordination was one she hadn't expected. Judah Dashiell.

Danger turned, feline green eyes sharpening in faint surprise as she found him standing there. It had been a spell since she last saw him on Joiol, that odd family dinner where laughter had mixed with tension like spice in Corellian whiskey. That had been… an interesting evening. They'd been walking around each other and being cordial, not as close as they used to be... a shame but... Danger made her peace with it by now. Judah had his priorities and his own life and they both had a new granddaughter to focus on. Time had a way of tempering things, especially when the present demanded all her attention.

Her brows lifted and she gave a slow blink.

"Well...color me surprised," she drawled, "Yours is not a face I expected to be here."

One would wager he would have had one of his female project managers here instead of risking irking the Hapans... especially in light of the Crimson Veils antics.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Considering my wonderful track record with the finer sex, I thought it was prudent to be here."

A tight smile as the self-deprecating humor emerged. He hadn't expected to encounter anyone he knew, let alone Danger Arceneau herself. Part of him found it a little odd. Rue was young, quite young in the grand scheme of things. He would have expected the Trade Queen to be a little more cautious, considering her status now as a single mother.

Yet he knew her well enough she wanted to be in the thick of things. To be seen as a force of good. To give back to the galaxy at large. Nothing and no one could change her mind. It was admirable. Most would merely give credits and call it a donation, very few would actually get their hands dirty.

"Just be safe out here..." Hands in his pockets, ocean blue gaze looked around. "I'm awaiting word if my cargo ship is to be needed, anything I can do while I'm idle?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

It was the mention of Judah's wonderful track record with the fairer sex that sparked a measure of knowing humor in her feline green eyes. She chose not to incline her head or reply with a soft 'mmhm', as doing so would likely only provoke the Old Salvager.

She had, after all, promised Makai and Myra she wouldn't stir the pot, and she was a woman of her word.

So she tilted her head with slow, deliberate ease, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips, lifting her head up to regard Judah with an expression that was both amused and appraising, as if he were a detail she'd noted before, interesting but not surprising.

"One should always prefer prudence to presumption," she drawled softly, voice low and steady, each word measured. "But even the best track records get scuffed when we start believin' our own legends too much."

Her gaze drifted over the bustling spaceport. The distant hum of repulsorlifts and the sharp tang of starship fuel lingered in the air, mingling with faint spices clinging to her coat. She glanced back down at her datapad, finger sweeping over the display for a moment.

"As it may be...Mistuh Dashiell," she continued, letting his name settle between them, "you know better than most that bein' seen is half the business, and the other half is makin' sure they remember what they saw. Caution's a fine thing, but invisibility? That ain't ever suited me."

Her eyes, sharp beneath her composed exterior, flicked back to him, "Ain't me that gots to worry 'bout my safety... got more than a few guns around keeping security."

She did pause and blink, giving a glance around as if searching before meeting the oceanic blue of Judah's eyes.

"I reckon Miz Tindara is more than enough security for you." a brow rose as if inquiry, "And where is Iko?"

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Don't worry about you? That's like asking to stop breathing."

Distance may be between them but it didn't mean he didn't keep an eye out for the Trade Queen. It was just something less pronounced now and more subtle. He couldn't voice his concerns without meeting a bit of resistance from her - perhaps his own words thrown back in his face. It was less about voicing them now and more paying attention and listening to her movements through others.

"Miss Tin'dara and I are no longer together. I have a blaster on me, its security enough. Supposed to be here helping folks, not walking around with the blaster scaring old ladies who are already terrified I'm sure."

Was there concern for his safety? Only marginally. Battles actively continued. Judah figured if he stayed away from the main fighting and didn't interfere with local politics he would be fine. Sticking to the aid camps, helping deliver cargo should be safe enough in his eyes, as Danger Arceneau mentioned, there was security around the area.

"Iko is working a salvage line near Sullust along the Rimma Trade Route under Zej. Given his history with Coruscant, I didn't want him too close to these types of battles. He's maturing quickly but he's only a boy still."

Judah was pleased with Iko Vel and the progress being made. Right now, it was a lot of working, letting the boy study, and giving him a little free time to be a teenager. Iko had a father, despite being deceased, and Judah wasn't looking to replace that role. He viewed himself more as a mentor and guide, but also a trusted adult who genuinely cared and wanted the best for Iko.

"Besides, I had some free time. I was in the area checking on Makai's mining sites." Distantly, the sound of another explosion. "How as Rue been? Has she seen her niece yet?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger's lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk threatening to surface, but she reined it in with the practiced ease of a woman who'd mastered the art of polite indifference.

Don't worry about you? That's like asking to stop breathing.

Funny, Danger mused silently, recalling a different time, a different conversation, when those very sentiments had been hers to offer -- and promptly dismissed. Life had its own brand of irony, didn't it?

However, it wasn't as easy to hold back the slow blink in surprise regarding the news that Judah and the Togruta Jedi Master were no longer an item...again. The back and forth was enough to make anyone believe they were watching the Bonita Classic back on Tatooine; the back and forth was more than a bit puzzling to take. Then again, if she thought about it, as her mind was wont to do, considering he'd been seeing his ex-wife again more often than naught, and his clear tendency not to be over her, then perhaps the growing interaction reminded the elder Dashiell just where his heart lay.

Instead, she offered a soft, nonchalant reply, her drawl smooth as silk but with an edge sharp enough to slice through pretense.

"Ain't old ladies who are terrified here, she said, her gaze flicking over the makeshift camp, noting the taut lines of alarm and confusion etched into every face, young and old alike.

"It's the men. Huntin' Crimson Veil and their sympathizers ain't a polite game the Hapans are playing. A blaster might not be enough to keep your hide safe." She left it at that. Whatever concern lingered was tucked neatly behind the businesslike curve of her mouth, as distant from her voice as the years they'd let slip between them.

Talk of Iko softened the tension, if only a shade. "Good to hear Iko's doin' well. Hope he's found somethin' interestin' enough to sink roots into." Her voice carried a genuine warmth there, a flicker of fondness for the boy tangled in the edges of their shared history.

The first explosion was distant, more of a thrum beneath her feet than a sound, but the second one closer, pulling at her brow into a slight arch. Not panic. Just assessment.

"Hrm." She lifted a hand, the small gesture enough to pause the conversation. Drawing her commlink from her belt, she flicked it open with a practiced thumb, her voice dipping into that velvet smooth cadence so familiar to her.

"Aeri, startin' to hear some closer booms than I'd prefer. We still sittin' pretty, or should I be considerin' a change of venue?"

She listened, her emerald eyes sharp, reflecting not fear but calculation.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

If he was concerned about being roped in as one of the men responsible for the attack during the wedding or even supporting the Crimson Veil, he didn't show it. Not bravado or stupidity, more of an awareness of what he had been getting into once he decided to assist with taking the cargo ship to Hapes and to visit the Gallinore mines.

It wasn't as if he could have asked Danger to check in for him. Myra was obviously out of commission. Tense as the situation was, business still continued. Higher ups in Aina Holdings were already drafting plans for evacuation and alternative routes, should things spill over to a boiling point on Gallinore. It was all beyond his control - and was firmly in the hands of the Hapan forces and Crimson Veil.

As Danger Arceneau got on the comm with Aeri, he tuned out the conversation and listened around them, beyond the silent factory being used as a staging area. Distantly he could hear a ship of some sort, coming closer. He hadn't stayed a pilot long enough in the military to distinguish between engines so the vessel could be anything from a shuttle to a freighter to a super weapon.

Yet they didn't have to wait long for their answer. The unknown vessel drew closer, as did the explosions. A bombing run, and an indiscriminate one at the sounds of it. He didn't have to listen long to determine that. The next explosion shattered the remaining windows in the factory, the sonic boom stretching outwards.

"Take cover!"

Various shouts started through the workers and volunteers with everyone scrambling to get somewhere.

Grabbing Danger's upper arm, Judah pulled her down with him underneath a table. It was all they could do in the moment, running was futile.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger hadn't needed the warning. The moment the first explosion cracked the air, shattering what few intact windows remained, she knew better than to stand still and hope for the best.

But before she could move, Judah's grip found her arm, firm but not forceful as he dragged her beneath the nearest table. For all the unladylike circumstances, Danger folded into the moment with the same practiced ease she brought to a high-stakes negotiation -- grace, control, and the quiet understanding that sometimes, survival took precedence over pride.

But also, Gorram it!

Debris clattered around them, a choking cloud of dust billowing in the wake of another impact. The chaos beyond their impromptu cover was a storm of movement -- workers scrambling, voices shouting over the roar of destruction. She could hear the distant crackle of a fire taking hold, the groan of the building as it bore the assault.

Her lips pursed, eyes sharp as she met Judah's gaze in the dim shelter of their hiding place.

"Well," she murmured, voice low, a wry lilt curling at the edges. "That's one way to make an entrance."

Another blast rocked the ground, punctuating her words with grim finality.

This wasn't just a show of force; it was indiscriminate. Someone had decided that Gallinore's battle lines weren't drawn sharply enough, and now, everyone in the crossfire was paying the price.

Danger exhaled slowly, steadying herself as she adjusted the commlink still clutched in her hand. Aeri's voice had cut out the moment the first blast hit, but there were more pressing concerns now.

She glanced at Judah, expression unreadable. "Hope you weren't plannin' on a smooth departure."

Because, ready or not, they were in it now.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

She glanced at Judah, expression unreadable. "Hope you weren't plannin' on a smooth departure."

Judah wasn't sure if she was trying to joke or one of those wry observations in the moment. He certainly had been there ; joking with Liin "Tera" Terallo as a bride was murdered in front of them. Helped to deal with some of the trauma of the event. It didn't matter either way. A shaggy hand raked through his hair to dislodge from dust and debris.

Shouts went through the building. Scrambling. They were going to have to figure out their next moves and quickly.

"I bet the bombing run is a prelude to troops entering the area. Unsure if friendly or foe..."

The shaggy salvager came out from his hiding spot and offered am hand to Danger Arceneau if she wanted to take it to stand up. Her comm was still in hand and if she could get Aeri to their position. Yet they also had the cargo ship he had brought, the massive beast having to park on city outskirts. Unsure where. He should find out.

His own comm was fished out and he toggled the massive vessel.

"Friendly cargo hauler...this is Judah Dashiell. Where did you end up landing?"

Some static, silence, and more static. None of them were familiar with the area so it was understandable there would be pauses and confusion and double checking. The navigator was also aware that giving coordinates would not help him navigate considering he had no specialized equipment.

"....one and a half kilometers south....your location....limmie stadium.....speeder lot..."

Eyes lifted to meet Danger.

"Should we evacuation everyone in that direction? South?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger accepted Judah's hand, rising to her feet just as another distant explosion sent a tremor through the factory's foundation. She was covered in a thin layer of dust but by all intents and purposes, still had all her limbs and nothing was damaged.

Her comm remained in her grip, though Aeri had yet to respond. A frustration, but not an unexpected one. Chaos had a way of scrambling signals as easily as it scrambled plans. If they were going to navigate this tangle with any control, she needed clearer channels and fewer unknowns.

Judah's voice cut through the noise, relaying the hauler's position.

"....one and a half kilometers south....your location....limmie stadium.....speeder lot..."

Danger lifted her gaze, locking onto oceanic blue with the sharp glint of a well honed edge. South was the best option they had, but getting there wasn't just a matter of movement, it was a matter of order. Panic was the kind of wildfire that burned through good intentions, and she had no interest in walking into a bigger mess than the one they were already in.

She exhaled slowly, then gave a single, decisive nod.

"South'll do," she said, her voice steady as durasteel, a measured anchor in the storm. "But we ain't leadin' a blind stampede. Last thing we want is to rush headlong into another trap 'cause we were too busy runnin' to see it."

She toggled her comm again. Static. The flicker of irritation barely touched her expression before she smoothed it away.

Her gaze swung back to Judah, weighing him. "We're gonna need eyes on the route. If you're here for your mines, you got any observation drones available to get some recon, or am I gonna have to find us another scout?"

The words carried a thread of a racing mind but the intent was clear. Getting out was one thing. Getting out right was another.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah watched as she tried to hail Aeri back on the comm, only to get static. Either communications were down in the area or Aeri herself had gotten caught up in the same bombing run - it was hard to tell since he wasn't sure where she was at. There was some truth to knowing what lay in front of them. There was also some truth in getting the hell out of dodge before someone came poking around. Or decided things weren't destroyed enough.

If you're here for your mines, you got any observation drones available to get some recon, or am I gonna have to find us another scout?

"I'm here for Makai, yes." A clarification that he personally had no holdings within the Hapan Cluster. "As far as I'm aware, the observation drones are kept in the mines. From the notes I remember they have been mapping new branches and sections of the mine. I think..." He paused, unsure of what he was about to say next. "....I think I could possibly work a little magic with my datapad, find them on Aina's equipment manifest, and recall them to our location."

Every piece of equipment, ship, ground transport, company datapad....if one could name it, the device would be in the manifest. Keeping with tradition, Judah knew anything that could be put on a slave circuit or remotely recalled was. Kept down on theft or useful for things that disappeared in the wilderness on accident.

"Not too keen on standing right here to do it."

Danger Arceneau ​

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger inclined her head in a quick nod. Judah's instincts were spot in that -- she also was well aware that it was always wise to remain in motion when standing still might invite trouble.

Another rumble as if to cash on Judah's musings prompted the redhead to duck her head down to avoid any debris.

Blast it all for getting stuck in such a situation. Odds were she was also going to get an earful from Myra because of it for doing this personally. Crouching down, Danger flicked feline green eyes over at Judah then gave a quick, "Well, you summon those drones and I'll check on a path that can get us out of here..."

There were other Arceneau workers here that she had to also make sure would get to safety. It wasn't just herself.

Checking a quick route through her datapad, she connected the blue layout with a green line.

"Might work for us for now... " She told him. Best not to linger.

"Alright, let's go."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Perfect, come on."

Much like Danger Arceneau , Judah was invested in getting everyone out safely. There were random groups assembled that had their own protocol in these situations, but for the most part the volunteers were a little lost. A little unsure of their next steps. It was understandable in the situation. They had been all but bombed trying to assist others. Trying to deliver food and medicine, not instruments of war.

"Everyone, we're falling back to the cargo ship one and a half kilometers south of this. If you want to join, follow us."

Judah spoke up above the rumble so those who were interested could hear. They had to move quickly now, he and Danger moving towards the exit, away from the rubble, as to ensure nothing falling actually landed on their heads. He had his head down, trying to drag up the manifest and recall the mining drones as he walked, also not trying to trip and fall.

"Mind guiding me while I pull this up? Drag me by my shirt or something..."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger Arceneau caught the back of Judah's collar, steadying his steps without making a fuss.

"Drag you by the shirt?" She snorted, but shook her head, "Well can't have your hide sporting extra holes for Makai to yell at me for." she murmured. "So Reckon I'll see to it you stay upright."

The ground trembled with distant artillery fire, smoke thick in the air. Volunteers pressed forward, carrying supplies and the wounded toward the waiting cargo ship. Not a second later, the sound of blaster fire and cries also drew near. So much for not being a hot zone.

A flicker of movement near a half-collapsed stall stirred her attention. Danger halted, and her fingers drifted to her blaster. She pulled out the weapon to point it in the direction.

It's a good thing she did, because the rebel ended up sending a series of blaster bolts their direction. With a fierce tug, she jerked Judah to the side and sent her own volley down while trying to find cover.

Guess the rebels found them.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah rolled his eyes slightly at her banter. Two could match such a thing, not that it was a contest. Especially in a warzone. His head was down, having gotten into the system with the equipment manifest. From there it was just a matter of activating the mapping drones to his location. Brow furrowed as he did so, taking a moment to allow the mapping drones to track them. Or so he assumed. Judah wasn't typically up on the mining portion of the business. It had been many years of letting his son and trusted associates take the lead.

"Has Makai ever yelled at you? That's typically more my style."

A bit of dark humor. He raised his head just time to be tugged down by Danger Arceneau .It was a momentary shock, brain not catching up with the actions that were transpiring. The Trade Queen was immediately firing back, and he was now putting two and two together. Rebels had already stumbled upon their location.

Judah suspected to raid supplies for their own. Logical on one hand war-wise. However, it was only hurting the innocent civilians the organizations on the ground were trying to assist. Civilians that had no option, that couldn't leave.

"Thanks." A quick moment of gratitude, he could thank her properly later. He looked over his shoulder, pulling his blaster out from its holster as they were pressed against a pillar. "I think we should go the other way...lets not engage overly with these rebels...may not work in our favor."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with:
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

"Makai yell? No. It's more his look of disappointment." Danger added, thinking back that yelling actually was counterintuitive with the younger Dashiell.

"It would take quite a bit to get him to yell." adding wryly, thinking back to what she witnessed when Makai ended up fighting with Judah out in the field when they were building their fence. Regardless, there were more important areas to focus on.

Danger sucked in a slow breath, her back pressed firm against the pillar as Judah settled in beside her. Her grip on the blaster was steady, finger resting just shy of the trigger as she measured the battlefield with a practiced eye.

"Reckon you're right," she murmured, though her tone lacked full agreement. "Ain't keen on tanglin' with 'em more than we got to, but they ain't exactly extendin' the same courtesy."

Another volley of blaster fire raked across the broken stall, sending splinters and charred debris skittering across the duracrete. The rebels were pushing forward, their movements too organized for simple looters. Someone had trained them.

"Got a bad feelin' 'bout this," she muttered under her breath. With a sharp nod, she motioned for Judah to move. The supply ship was still loading up, volunteers scrambling to secure what they could. They needed to get there fast.

Danger fired off a covering shot, just enough to keep their pursuers wary, then she pushed off the pillar, boots kicking up dust as she moved, move cover fire for Judah. The man wasn't built for shootouts, and they both knew it. That was her role, keeping them both breathing.

They cut down a side alley, weaving between wreckage and abandoned speeders. The acrid stench of scorched metal clung thick in the air. But as they neared the clearing, another problem revealed itself.

A second group of rebels. This lot had already moved to cut off their path to the ship.

Danger swore under her breath, her gaze darting to Judah.

"Alright, Judah ," she breathed low, "might have gotten ourselves boxed in. Tell me at least you managed to get somethin' done with that datapad of yours."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Got a bad feelin' 'bout this,"

"Likewise" He murmured, focused on the mining droids as Danger Arceneau watched their collective backsides. He had gotten the little mining probes active, alert, and on the move. From what he could tell they were moving as a collective unit. There was an option to move independently but the old salvager had them all following a point sentry, figuring if there needed to be a split that could be done as they knew more of the situation.

Datapad in one hand, he had his blaster in the other. Last shootout had been when Azula was around and that had ended in an interesting manner. Salacia Security forces were also on hand to back him up - it was just himself and Danger. Not that he didn't believe in the Trade Queen's abilities but more of the fact it was two against an unknown number.

Trotting down the alleyway, they wove around overturned speeders and through smoke, causing his lungs to burn. The cigar habit wasn't helping on that front.

"I did." Judah waved her to kneel down between two overturned speeders. It would provide enough cover to look at his datapad. He held the screen between them, a split screen. One showing the position of the mining probes in real time, the other a holovid feed of what they could see. The mining probs were coming closer and it was clear of one thing ; their location was swarmed with rebels.

"I think...they probably want the supplies here. The rebels. I know there have been disruptions in supply lines....plus the matter of someone actually selling to the rebels." A small pause. "Let's find a break in their groupings and make a run for it....try raising Aeri again, maybe since we're out of the building."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger pressed herself low against the overturned speeder, peering over Judah's shoulder at the datapad's flickering screen. The mining probes weren't lying -- the rebels had them boxed in tight.

She huffed out a breath, slow and measured. "Ain't the first time I been caught between a rock an' a hard place," she murmured, "But I sure as hell prefer a few more cards in my hand."

Judah's point was solid; supplies were scarce, and desperate folk made for dangerous bedfellows. Someone was feeding the rebels, lining their pockets with war credits while civilians choked on the fallout. A damn mess, through and through.

She gave a quick scan of the alley. Smoke curled in thick tendrils, the acrid stench of charred metal and ozone burning at the back of her throat. The rebels were pressing closer, but not in a full sweep. They were spread out, watching the supply caches like Nexu circling prey.

"Alright," she drawled, thumbing her comm. "We'll find our break. But first..." She shifted, pressing the commlink close. "Aeri, you read me? We're sittin' real pretty in a nest o' jeku, and I'd take it kindly if you could provide a distraction."

Static hissed through the line, then a faint crackle. Danger grimaced. Not the worst sign, but not great either. She tapped the comm, cursing under her breath.

"Just what I needed.... a whole riot of ticked off men with itchy trigger fingers.'

Just then, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

Danger stiffened. That was no stray sound -- Someone had just signaled their position.

She snapped her blaster up. "Well. So much for a quiet exit."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Not being able to reach Aeri was a small problem. It would have been useful to have the assistant be able to call a vessel closer to their location. Or to be able to tap into the Aina Holdings systems and view the mining probes in real time, giving them useful feedback. Running, ducking and dodging was extremely difficult to do when one had to keep referring back to a datatablet.

No time to think about that though, because there was a loud whistle. One of the rebels signaling they had been found. Not an ideal situation.

"This is new for you, normally men are tripping over one another to get to you for entirely different reasons."

Just a small quip as he looked at the datatablet quickly. It wasn't foolproof but it was better than running completely blind. Up and to the left was a small break, although he couldn't tell if there was much cover. Sheer luck was going to get them out of the half-collapsed warehouse area.

"This way, up and left." Datatablet away, blaster was in one hand a gentle tug of the Trade Queen's the the direction he spoke of, just to grab her attention. Her head was turned, picking off a bold rebel who had turned the corner upon them. Didn't even look as if he was with the main group.

Just as they went forward and 'left' the pair ran into two rebels scrambling to enter the warehouse down the corridor. Judah lifted his blaster and fired before the startled men could, their bodies crumpling to the ground. Yet there was no time think about that, their freedom was close, just down the corridor and out onto the streets.

From there, they would face an entirely new set of challenges.

Danger Arceneau

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Judah Dashiell
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger didn't break stride, even as blaster fire cracked past her shoulder and sent the scent of scorched metal curling through the air.

"Judah," she drawled out, sidestepping the twitching body of the man he'd just shot. "Ain't often a lady gets pursued with such enthusiasm. Normally, they're carryin' flowers and credit chits, not blasters." Her lips curled in a knowing smirk, but her feline green eyes were sharp, already measuring the next move.

The whistle had set off a chain reaction; boots clattered against duracrete, shouts carried through the cavernous warehouse, and soon, more rebels would come flooding in. They needed a distraction. A big one. Something to pull every trigger-happy soul in the vicinity away from the real prize -- the desperate cluster of refugees huddled just beyond the outer corridors, waiting for their chance to slip free.

Danger's gaze flicked upward. Overhead, a long-forgotten repulsor-lift crane hung precariously from a rusted track, still holding a heavy cargo container. A smile, slow and full of wicked promise, spread across her face.

"Well, that's a very fine opportunity," she mused, lifting her blaster and firing two quick shots at the coupling. The bolts hit true, sending sparks flying, then the whole rig groaned and lurched. With a screech of metal, the container tipped free, slamming down into a stack of unstable storage racks.

The ensuing boom rocked the warehouse. Durasteel crates exploded outward, sending a cloud of dust and debris billowing like a thunderhead. The chaos was instantaneous -- shouts, panicked gunfire, bodies scattering like startled birds. The perfect cover.