OBJECTIVE: CLEAR THE STARPORT
@[member="Quenladose"]
The dropship lurched a bit as something very hard-sounding slammed into the side across from Fabula. Anti-air, probably, in whatever capacity a bunch of pirates could muster it. It wouldn't matter. As long as the ship got on the ground, their mission was basically inevitable. Even a crash landing would be totally acceptable considering the cargo on board. A few Jedi and some Republic commandos against a raggedy bunch of pirates? This was practically the definition of unfair.
Of course, she hadn't actually expected the ship to crash. The next violent lurch came from the front of the ship.
While everyone else stumbled towards the cockpit, Fabula gripped her support bar tighter and weathered the "landing" without too much loss of face. There was purpose behind her showboating, of course. When the ship stopped moving, Fabs jumped up to check on the pilots. At no point would she allow victory to take a higher priority than life. Snapping her head around, Fabs looked for blood. "Is anyone hurt?"
One of the RSFU pilots managed to shake himself out of his daze and turn back to her. "No, we're having a kriffing party up here! Shaelus ordered us some strippers and spice!" It was a testament to his training that he'd managed to keep calm enough to crack wise...or maybe that was just a soldier thing. Even so, Fabula did a double check. No visible wounds, and no healers on her team, so this would have to do.
"It'll have to do. Hole up here and avoid attention," she started, then turned back towards the others in the ship. "The plan hasn't changed. We'll clear from here to this level's entrances, and lock whatever room we landed in after we leave it." As she spoke, Fabula walked over to check the ship's drop-doors...and found them quite stuck. She figured as much, but it wasn't much of an obstacle. "One moment..."
Taking a deep breath, the little Witchknight pushed the excitement of the moment from her mind, as she'd been practicing in her long, lonely hours of meditation. Strength from the Force, not from her anger. Power from a calm spirit, rather than a frantic one. Pressing her hand against the door, she could feel her muscles tightening far more than they should've been able to. Entirely on instinct, she brought back her hand and gave a solid punch, denting the door...then two more, knocking it entirely off its hinges.
Fabs shook her hand, but smiled to herself with a bit of pride. She didn't need her Darkness for power when she had the Force. Turning back to a ship full of slightly gawking commandos, Fabula indicated to the ground below the ship. "We're stuck in the ceiling. Watch your step." And with no further ceremony, she jumped down, scanning the room around her.