Rajivari

[Placeholder 0123]

Stormtroopers were not a rare sight in One Sith territory these days. Initially, the monstrous forces of the Yuuzhan Vong had been the chosen foot soldiers of the followers of the Dark Side. Over time, people from the worlds they conquered began to shift their loyalties to their conquerors.

So easily was the human mind manipulated, that those they had condemned just months before were now hailed as heroes by the majority of the populace. That was not to say that everyone was happy with the statuesque, but the majority was more than happy to reap the benefits of a successful economy.

When the men in white marched fown the stairs, Ein was not surprised. These were the fodder, mindless drones drawn to the Sith cause. They were no 501st nor were they any of Hauntress's black lancers, or whatever she called them. Mindless warriors with little desire for anything other than their basic needs, and pleasing their superiors.

Ein was positive they would gun down a schoolhouse if their Lieutenant ordered such. He took a look over his shoulder at the direction the girl had gone, and bit back a curse. He couldn't fit through the ventilation shaft. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't going to be going unnoticed here.

The adept quickly flicked on the jammer on his comm unit. The troopers' signals outside were immediately cur short.

"My lord. I was unaware the Voices had sent one of their own down here." The lead trooper said, an orange pauldron on his shoulder indicating his rank. "...I'm sure you don't mind if I call in, jut to make sure."

Ein grimaced, and looked over the group. Around fourteen soldiers in total, no telling how many awaited outside. He tensed.

"No need..."

[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Ein Necavich"]

Urya had nearly disappeared into the vent. Her feet were almost completely out of reach before a cog of her metal feet caught on the corner. She noisily clanged about in it for a second, unable to move forward... then gave up. "... Help."

 

[Placeholder 0123]

A handicapped woman and a squad of soldiers made for a lovely evening. Ein sucked in a sharp breath over his teeth, and extended his senses outward. There was something beyond the soldiers, something dark and foreboding. A Sith was coming, though who it was Ein could not tell. If it was one of the Darths or a Voice, he would have to surrender to their demands. There was no denying the Sith here, not when Tython was crawling with their forces.

Eventually, they would sense him, as well as the strange woman, who happened to be making her escape without him. Figures.

"Someone secure...whatever that is." The squad lead boomed, motioning toward Urya's flailing figure. Two soldiers broke off and hoisted their rifles, marching over to subdue the cyborg. "I have no word from TACOPS or any of the Lords...it's breaking off. Must be because of how low we are." He shrugged. "We'll follow you, m'lord."

Ein breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He inclined his head forward, and motioned toward the fount. "There's likely something to be plundered from the terminal. As for that woman, she serves Darth Vitium." He lied. "She's friendly."

"Such a shame that you would try to deceive the good sergeant." The Sith walking down the steps boomed. His hood fell back to reveal a human face, bright green eyes, sandy blond hair, and narrow features. Gregory - the Sith Apprentice. "Sergeant, this man, Ein, is attempting to usurp our influence here. He is a traitor, as is his cohort. Subdue him for questioning...and bring me the woman."

The snap-hiss of Gregory's crimson lightsaber was mirrored by Ein's. Before the stormtroopers could raise their rifles, Ein speared the Sergeant through the chest, and sent another three somersaulting across the floor with a telekinetic thrust. The rest opened fire, and the two that were going after Urya joined in.

Gregory held back, snickering. Ein brought his blade in tight, spinning in a long practiced dance Chirikin had called Soresu. Blaster bolt were batted aside, the force of them jarring Ein's arms with each repulse.

Urya was utterly forgotten by the Sith and his troopers.

[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Ein Necavich"]

That didn't sound right.

Urya had managed to get the back half of her out of the air vent when the fighting started. CHIPS! She needed chips!

The cyborg woman popped open a panel in her arm. Inside, rows of microchips gleamed, awaiting her choice. She swept aside the bangs on her forehead, exposing a metal chips slot embedded in her forehead. The chip of her choice was plucked up, and inserted into an empty port.

Thank goodness she'd been forgotten by the Stormtroopers, because when she extricated herself from the vent, she came out swinging. A metal foot lashed out in a precision strike, finding the unprotected side of his knee and bending it outward at a nasty, bone crunching angle. Before the second could wheel back on her, she jammed her cybernetic fingers into the exposed seam around his groin-plate. Seeking to tear flesh, she would jab in and rip up, hoping to at least sever a few tendons and debilitate him.

Lucky for her, these move didn't require flashing lasers or glowing sabers, and she could move in relative silence. The shots covered the TANGS of her feet when she rushed to the other side of the room. She dropped to a hip, using the momentum to baseball slide into another trooper's feet, hoping to knock him to the floor.

Funny. There didn't seem to be any jokes now.

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Whatever Urya was doing, Ein did not have the time or the capability to take note. What he did see was the opposition dividing its attention somewhere else. Some of the Stormtroopers broke off to open fire on Urya, and as such, gave Ein the moment's reprieve he needed.

With the torrent of blaster fire reduced to a blistering rain, the adept stepped forward. His blade span in orange arcs from left to right, batting one bolt into the arm of a soldier, then two others into his neck. The warriors fell with a loud thud, and brought about a moment's hesitation from his allies. These were green men, arrogant and far too sure in their own capabilities.

Ein thrust a hand forward. Purple veins of electricity sprouted from his fingertips. The smell of burning ozone filled the Fount as the veins enraptured two soldiers, rendering them lifeless in mere seconds. That was when Gregory began to worry.

The Apprentice sidled around uncomfortably, and motioned toward Urya. "Put down the wretch. I have him!"

Those Imperial that remained, of which there were six, turned their attention to Urya. Leaderless, the soldiers fired wildly at the woman, while Gregory charged Ein.

The Sith was larger than Ein, and when their blades clashed, amber on crimson, he was forced back. A sidelong strike was quickly parried by a close strike. The Apprentice rolled off Ein's blade, swinging downward to catch him in the knee. Ein quickly back stepped just as the blade carved into the ground where his boots had been, and sliced his amber weapon across the robed arm of his opponent.

Gregory shrieked in rage as the lightsaber carved through the cloth of his robe and singed the flesh beneath. Reeling backward, the enraged Apprentice brought up his free hand. Arcs of blue lightning shot toward Ein with all the grace of a lumbering Rancor. The adept raised his blade, and caught the aqua veins on the beam of his blade.

"This is treason." He pointed out. "I am an ally to the Voices."

"You are a traitor!"

[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Ein Necavich"]

Urya did not hesitate after tripping the third trooper. Her foot cut down in an arch, smashing metal into his throat. She stepped off his helmet, leaping towards the next.

The cyborg was quickly cutting through their ranks, using speed and precision to dance around their blasterfire. Or, at least most of it. A bolt seared a long graze into her thigh as she rolled between another trooper's legs, cracking her feet straight up under him in a donkey kick. She took the newly minted eunuch's blaster, rushing her successful assailant and jammed the blaster muzzle under the seam of his helmet. The cyborg didn't even wait to see what happened after she pulled the trigger; her attention had already moved to a new opponent. That one was going to get a surprise visit to the elbow from knife attachment that had slid from her cybernetic hand.

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Ein could feel the sudden shifts in the force as each soldier fell. They were little islands in its great ocean, unable to live within the depths like Gregory and himself. They survived on the frgine, clinging to land, while the rare few were born in just the right way to thrive in the torrent. Each island sunk beneath the waves as their lights went out, each submergance signaling another death.

Ein did not have much time to think about that. Gregory had quickly abandoned the lightning after realizing the futility of the act, and pressed his assault. A right hand block, then a left, followed by a strong swing over the Apprentice's shoulder.

The crimson blade screamed for Ein's blood as it slid just over his arm, Ein barreling into the Sith mid-swing. Gregory gave a startled cry as he stumbled back, dropping his weapon in the process.

Ein stood up to his full height, and only then did the pain set in. It was an agonizing shock that ran up the length of his right leg. He drew in a sharp breath, and chanced a look down. The blade had carved a shallow furrow into his calf. It was nothing entirely serious, but it hurt like a schutta.

Leaving whatever remained of the Stormtroopers, if any, to the cyborg Ein stepped forward. He leveled his blade at Gregory, pointing the edge right at the boy's face.

"Y-you...mercy! Please! I only did my duty! You were traitors!" Gregory squealed.

Ein lofted a brow.

"So far as I'm concerned, you did this." He motioned to the dead soldiers. "In your rage once you realized the Fount lacked information. Your master will punish you, but you won't be killed. You have no proof I was here, that's your only option."

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Ein Necavich"]

Urya managed to convince the last trooper to stand down by mostly headbutting him. She stopped, standing on the man's chest, setting her hands on her hips and waiting for the Apprentice's next move.

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Sullied. That would be the one word to sum up the actions of once militant Jedi Guardian Rusken Shaxx. Blood stained his hands and brow, the constant pressure of his deeds pressed against the forefront of his conscious as he roamed almost aimlessly. His thoughts were nearly lost, barely held together by mere threads of what he could hardly label as justification.

There was no real justice to be spoken of. Nothing commendable for what the lone Jedi had to resort to just to stay alive. Scrounging up whatever real courage he had left, Rusken pushed himself onward with a broken demeanor. He struggled to get a grip on what reality he was dwelling in, suddenly the hardened veteran was losing his thick skin and the realization of his past atrocities set in.

Everything he had worked for meant nothing now. The insignificance of his efforts as a Jedi had blossomed into true irrelevance by this point, his mind nearly lost to the darkness he had been keeping at bay for so long now. Ages of denial had finally caught up with poor old Rusken Shaxx of the Republic.

But who was to say his loyalties still lay in the same graves?

It would appear the old war horse wasn't alone in his moment of losing grip on reality. He got up to his feet and gripped the hilt of a lightsaber that wasn't even his own anymore, but instead belonged to a Sith he had slain prior. Not even the colors or markings of his armor were the same. Rusken had pillaged Sith bodies to better hide himself from their prying eyes. It was as if he carved the very hide from an animal's corpse and donned it immediately. Their blood staining his own flesh and masking his scent from other predators lurking about.

Upon closer investigation, Rusken managed to catch a glimpse of a man and woman assaulting Stormtroopers. The lady headbutting one of them into unconsciousness, as for the gentleman, he appeared to be Sith.

Perfect. Just what he needed at this point.

But why not take out some of that pent up anger? Surely that could help soothe his own mind.

Making an entrance, Rusken stomped heavily towards the two clad in heavy armor bearing Imperial markings. His lightsaber bearing a bladed hilt with a hand guard that appeared just as deadly as the crimson blade itself. The glowing eyes of the helmet's visor scanned the two for a brief moment before Rusken shifted slightly as he readied himself.

"Another one of you just had to show up... didn't you? After all this, it seems that I was cursed with an unrest. But since the Republic couldn't do its job proficiently, allow me to correct such a weakness."

Rusken activated his lightsaber with a snap-hiss, the blade's length extending a bit more due to being a dual-phase.

The old man was clearly in shambles, his mind tired from a lack of rest and a constant state of anarchy without his Jedi brethren. The Ession had fallen as well, so what was in store for Mr. Shaxx? The galaxy may never know.

@[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Ein Necavich"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Ein offered the stranger a moment's notice before Gregory struck. The seemingly defeated Apprentice thrust forward with another bout of lightning, catching Ein in the midriff. The adept screamed as the electricity tore through his very being, but he would not be bested by trickery.

With a flick of his wrist, Gregory was hurled violently into the walls of the great chamber. An audible crack rose above the constant hum of his lightsaber as the apprentice struck the corridor, sliding down limply to the floor. Ein felt a tiny sliver of life within him, but it would likely flicker out soon enough. A blow like that would be fatal.

"Gregory's master." Ein mused all too wrongly. Darkness enveloped this shadowy figure, like a thick curtain that blocked one from viewing him correctly. Either way, there was aggression in his voice and stance. Ein knew what would come next.

"Girl, they must have a ship outside. Go commandeer it." He snapped at Urya, not knowing her name. "Before their reinforcements arrive."

The adept would not give the warhorse a chance to strike. He strode purposefully toward the stranger, amber lightsaber humming with power. His hand rose, firing a burst of telekinetic energy that rivaled that of Jedi Masters famous for the ability.

It could be seen in a slight distortion in the air, as if the atmosphere was shimmering with heat. It came in a small wave directly toward [member="Rusken Shaxx"]. If it hit, the Jedi would feel the weight of a speeder crashing into his armored chest plate.

[member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Rusken braced his stance by shielding himself through the Force, the burst of energy crashing into him regardless. He grunted as he felt some of the blunt force dive into his chest, opening up after the blow was dealt to pursue his attacker. The young man might have mistaken Rusken for something else, but with the anger welling up inside the old bastard, he might as well just call himself Sith and stamp the Imperial mark on his forehead.

Rushing in with blade held high, Rusken let loose a series of heavy strikes aimed for the man's neck/chest. The tenacity the old warhorse demonstrated years of combat experience as each blow hammered downward with the strength of not only age, but pure aggression that wasn't present until this moment.

"My Republic may have failed, but I won't! You will die by my hand!"

Rusken roared triumphantly with the attempt of his frenzy. Something was obviously off with this Jedi if the opponent hadn't already noticed. From the armor down to the lightsaber, something was amiss.

[member="Ein Necavich"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

A beast. That was the only word Ein could use to describe this creature - this crazed man. One could not miss the words [member="Rusken Shaxx"] shouted at the top of his lungs. This old warrior was once aligned with the Republic, and one who showed a mastery of the force such as this, and carried a lightsaber, could only truly be one thing. What came to take Ein's life was a fallen Jedi Knight.

He hoped with all of his being that [member="Urya Uvatera"] had listened to him. They would need to escape Tython quickly in order to avoid detection. From there they would bend to whatever the Voices needed, be that assistance in gaining control of a world, or recovering some lost artifact.

So long as it brought Ein closer to finding his mother, the adept did not care.

That would all only matter if he survived this encounter. Ein survived the heavy blows by rolling with the momentum, catching each stroke on the edge of his amber blade, and rolling off of it with practiced ease. Such was the way of Soresu.

Still, each bone shattering strike sent jolts up his arms, and he felt his stamina rapidly leaving him. This fallen one was a much more skilled opponent than Gregory.

"I am no Sith." He spat as his blade rose to catch Rusken's dead on. The strike felt like thunder traveling up Ein's arms and threatened to turn them to jelly. Despite the screaming of his limbs, he held the blade lock, pushing back with all his might against his opponent. "I work with them for my own means."

He grit his teeth. "You're no Jedi. What are you." He managed through a harsh whisper. "Bando Gora? Grey Paladin?"

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Scowling at the young man through the visor of his helmet, the relentless blows kept rolling off of his blade with ease. Rusken's enemy was clearly well-versed within the spectrum of defense, but he would need much more than that if he were to keep up with the old veteran's swordsmanship. There was a problem with youngsters nowadays - and it was the sole fact that their confidence often outweighed their own skill.

Finally they came to a stalemate as their blades balanced upon each other, either side leaning away or pressing forward in order to maintain a proper stance. Only one of the two men here would be walking away with their lives. The madness that swirled within Rusken's mind grew more potent as hatred brewed a cocktail of malice and blind rage toward any supporting the Sith, in fact, anyone at all who got in the old man's way.

Nothing could be done at the moment to ease the fallen Jedi, his inner-self too far drowned under the baggage of trauma and stress. The main point to be illustrated here was that even the tallest standing hero can fall to their knees in the blink of an eye. No matter the years of endurance there is always a crack in the mold, it just so happens that Rusken shattered after so much had been given in the hope that things would have gotten better.

Such simple notions do not guide warriors, only war and bloodshed teach the most valuable of lessons even if they do appear barbaric. Philosophy was lost upon Rusken, and all he could process was how angry he felt in this very moment. The anger that had been repressed for years by the Jedi and their code of peace and harmony - today marked the beginning of a new man being born from blood and guilt. Rusken would cast the teachings of the Jedi aside.

As the blades of the two warriors still pivoted against each other, Ein's query managed to get through.

"I'm no longer living by the Jedi code, boy. Not after what I've had to do just to live through this sithspit."

Rusken pressed harder, trying to overwhelm his opponent. His voice becoming more ragged due to his exhaustion from previous battles.

"I am simply freed. Do not confuse me with anything else."

The old veteran would free his left gauntlet from the hilt of his lightsaber, attempting to slam it into Ein's ribcage to throw him off balance or perhaps even cause internal damage.

[member="Ein Necavich"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

A failure then. Ein held fast against his opponent's brute strength. Rusken was the stronger of the two, and certainly the larger, but Ein had something more. Where Rusken was driven purely by his desire to carve him into little pieces, Ein was focused. His emotions did not rule him now, nor would they ever.

The punch connected with his midriff, sending a shock of pain through the young warrior. He gave a ragged cough as the force of the kinetic strike sent him stumbling. This would be the prime time for the fallen Jedi to strike, and Ein knew this.

Rather than give him the opportunity, the adept dashed forward. He held out his right hand, and targeted Rusken at a primal level. Past the durateel, the phrik, the cloth. It descended beneath his flesh and intertwined with the fibers of his muscles.

Deeper still did he delve, taking hold of the very cells in Rusken's lightsaber arm. He shook them, for lack of a better term. It would not sever the arm, but the purpose was to make Rusken 'feel' light his arm had been severed.

At the same time, Ein drove forward with his shoulder low to send the warrior sprawling. He would pay attention to the dribble of blood that fell down his chin after the fact.

[member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Rusken Shaxx"]
[member="Ein Necavich"]

"Lookit you, sounding so manly. Ordering me about. Just for that. I'm staying put."

She stood atop the stormtrooper, watching this epic battle of wits between.. the moderately wicked Sith and the tenuously good Jedi. Shades of grey were mixing in her head, ringing a familiar bell. Violence, darkness and some kind of attempted majesty... the fight she was witnessing through thermo imagery struck her as more pathetic than masterful.

From what she could tell of their strained ramblings through the dark, the old man had an axe to grind, and her saffron-sabered friend was trying to get through to the old doffer. This was just annoying.

The Cyborg leaned forward, somersaulting towards the decrepit Jedi, aiming a swift metal roundhouse kick to his old, brittle hip. "Hands off the Cadmium Thief!"

 

[Charlene Adaska]

Charlene knew a thing or two about minding her own business. Trade like hers, you saw a lot of things. Found a lot of things too. Once she found one of her clients spice staches. She, of course, put it back where she found it without taking any. Would have completely ruined the customer/mechanic relationship if she took anything. A good business like hers was built on trust.
Things worked out for her. That same client ended up working for the Empire, and gave her a very strong recommendation. It was how she ended up here, getting steady work and decent pay. That was all well and good, but it wasn't exactly heroes work. Charlene was feeling a tad regretful that steady work meant burying her face in a ships engine room and missing out on all the danger and excitement.

"Damn," she hissed under her breath, struggling to open a panel on the ships cold grey engine room walls. Apparently there was something wrong with the air conditioning. Hardly worth her time, but she was on a contract. That meant she was obligated to check out every minor, pointless problem she was asked to look into. And she would be done by now if she could just get this damn panel off the wall. She grit her teeth, pulling the wrench until the bolt finally twisted free. She twisted it off, then finally pulled the panel free.

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

A simple punch to the ribs didn't seem to be enough for the Sith associate, and now it would seem that his partner decided to join in on the action. It wasn't an ideal fight, and the old veteran was already tired from fighting off other Sith just to have a moment to breathe. Seems like that rest would never come at this point.

First up was the lad whom took the punch sent at him earlier rather well, seeing as he was up and dashing towards Rusken with a drive that spoke all about determination. A worthy foe? More or less, he was still very young judging by his appearance but something about him was a bit off. Most youngsters would have faltered during the first couple of moves, yet this one managed to use Soresu on a more advanced level. Interesting.

Soon after Ein had closed some distance between him and Rusken, the old timer saw that the lad's hand was extended and crossed his left gauntlet over his chest to defend himself - instead there was a stinging sensation going through his nerves, it heightened to an extreme level of pain Rusken hadn't felt in a long time, what the hell was it?

The former Jedi Guardian grit his teeth and groaned painfully to himself, allowing Ein to come closer before attempting to connect with the lad's face with what was supposed to be a parry but instead turned into a backhand from a durasteel gauntlet; however, that wouldn't excuse the feeling of being scorched just on his arm. The veteran had dealt with pain his whole life, and this alone wouldn't put him down. Not until he died.

As for the young man's partner, she came in swiftly with a roundhouse kick that came towards Rusken's hip, but most of his body was covered in durasteel plating which would more than likely inherit most of the blunt force, even if the woman's leg was comprised of materials other than flesh and bone. Regardless the attack would make him stumble a bit, but even then the old warhorse would be ready for most things that came his way.

With the woman's leg connecting with his hip, Rusken grimaced beneath his helmet and unleashed a mighty roar that rippled through the Force itself, sending a shock-wave of energy throughout the area. If this were successful, it would allow some distance between the three leaving Rusken would some time to catch a short break.

The two youngsters would do well to realize that this old man wasn't as fragile as they might think.

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Ein Necavich"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

The backhand was enough to send Ein reeling. He thought he heard something crack as the durasteel clad palm crashed into his cheek, though the sudden bout of pain quickly replaced that thought. Whoever this old man was, he knew what he was doing, even in this blind rage.

It was then that the sudden expulsion of energy lifted Ein off his feet. Desperately, he called upon the force to cushion his impact as he careened across the room. He crashed into the wall, albeit at a reduced speed, but the pain was immediate. He bit back a curse as he fell to the floor, failing into a crouch as he landed.

"I am serious." He snapped. "Secure the ship so we can leave, otherwise we're all going to die." He glared at Urya, and the look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and frustration.

He pushed up to his full height, and flicked the switch on his lightsaber. The orange blade came to life with a hiss. Without another word, Ein rushed the aggressor. There was no reservation in his attack. His blade came sweeping left, then right, then left again as he swung two handed for Rusken, his strength enhanced by the force. He aimed to either disarm the old man, or cleave him in two. The former, he could be taken prisoner and they could figure out what to do with the witness. The latter was regrettable, but it might very well be necessary.

Either way, Ein fully intended to end this, here and now.

[member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Charlene Adaska"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Ein Necavich"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Charlene Adaska"]

Urya had intended to finish the sweep with her leg, but the tough old bird's armor made her cybernetic foot jar hard on impact. Heat-sensory vision did not lend to noticing armors. She hopped awkwardly on a foot, trying to regain her balance from the mostly failed maneuver, when the force blast sent the slight woman careening into a wall. Luckily, near the exit.

It took a moment for her vision to fuzz back into view, dazed as her circuitry was. "I... Aye.. aye.. Cap'n.." She half mumbled, scrambling to her feet and jogging off down the long hallway. Launch pad.. lunch pack.. ship and chips AH HA.

Snapping back to regular vision once she had passed back into sunlight, Urya galloped towards the nearest parked ship. Her brain thumbed through the files on SHIPS, finding the make and model that was available. XR-95, .68 Class Hyperdrive.... Her noggin rattled off the serial number, pertinent model details, and any noted damage on the outer hull.

Urya did not stop once she'd found the ship. She didn't check for personnel, simply popped open a hatch and jumped inside, metal feet clanking noisily on the metal deck. Her brain mapped out the schematics, allowing the cyborg to unerringly home in on the cockpit. Oh shoot. Keys. ... Oh piffle. Keys? Who needed keys? She flipped another extension out of her wrist, jamming it into what served as a ship ignition. She was going to fly!

"Hold up. There was a reason I needed to be here. Why am I here? To steal a ship. Yes. ... and wait for the Gilded Sith. Check.." Did she have time for a joyride? The cyborg began checking systems, flipping switches and just enjoying herself in this new, metal shell. Oooh.. if she wanted to, she could slide her brain right out into its computer and fly like that! Wouldn't that be fun!?

 

[Charlene Adaska]

Charlene was a good Mechanic, yes. Always minded her own business...
Except when that business was about to be flown away by someone who was not the ships owner. She had no idea, of course, until she heard a voice echo through the ships thick metal hull. She perked up, almost hitting her head on the open panel. She did not know that voice. This was neither the ships owner, his girlfriend, or the man in charge of the dock. She would know. Charlene was thorough with her work. And aside from that, she just... had a feeling.

Quiet as she could be, she finished her work, popped the panel back on the wall and reached down for a very large, heavy wrench. If she lost this ship, there was no way she could expect to get another job here any time soon. Her work was her life, all she had. She'd fight for it if she had to.

Slowly, carefully, she crept along the wall, heading to the cockpit where she heard the voice from. She stopped just outside, back pressed against the wall so the person inside wouldn't see. In her hands, she held her wrench, the only weapon if any sort at her disposal. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe as little as possible. This was it. Now or never. This was her time to be a hero.

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Ein Necavich"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"]