No Fate But What We Make

[Dashiel Starborn]

The Outer Rim Territories - Relgim Sector
An hour had passed since the shuttle had departed the Kwenn Space Station, the last refuelling point before the Mid Rim gave way to the rugged frontier of the Outer Rim Territories. Aboard the shuttle, the pilot and his four passengers sat in inscrutable silence. Some peered out of the forward viewport, trying to get a glimpse of Ord Trasi as the blue world loomed larger and larger ahead. Others kept their eyes on the ground or on some indistinct point, anywhere that meant they weren't looking at one another. Grace Van-Derveld fell into the latter group, or at least Dash supposed as much. It was difficult to tell what she was studying, behind the glasses she wore. The Director could have been looking back at him, wondering what he was gawking at. That thought made him glance away, down at his hands which had folded unconsciously together, as if he were praying.

The pilot broke the silence with a cough then spoke, and the muted sound of beeping told Starborn that he was accessing some of the shuttle's computer systems.

“ETA thirty minutes and counting. Half of that and we'll be within sensor range.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena sat back in her seat. She'd never been to Ord Trasi, but was aware of the Imperial shipyards that circled the planet. She had done extensive research on most of the Empire's ship building facilities, but nothing in the last few years.

A look out of the viewport had not revealed anything very special about the planet, at least from this far out. She lightly licked her lips, and then suddenly sneezed. She grimaced a bit and sniffed, looking at Agent Starborn a little apologetically. The Director was silent, whether she was concentrating on the upcoming mission or brooding was hard to tell.

De'Ville felt strange being part of a group, but it was a good strange.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

The Director kept her eyes fixated in front of her as she mentally went over the stolen schematics of this facility, but she had a bad feeling about this mission. All too often, partial intelligence would be gathered or one of her people would perish in providing information to the Alliance. This particular mission in retrieving schematics for the Ord Trasi shipywards had cost them nothing. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up and the Advisory Council sanctioned the mission. Grace did not believe in luck and her paranoia about sending a team to sabotage them is why she was accompanying the team.

"We'll be coming up in sensor range ETA three minutes," she said and looked sharply towards towards the entire group. "Game faces on now."

It was simple on the datapad. Infiltrate the shipyard as replacement mechanics. Split up into two groups and in the strategic locations that were discussed in the briefing, set charges that appeared like power condensers with a remote trigger. At their next 'break', they were going to use the ruse of heading down planet side for recreation and detonate the devices once the calculation to jump was programed into the nav computer. It was a simple plan but Grace didn't live this long believing anything was ever easy.

[Dashiel Starborn]

As he buttoned up the high-necked collar of his Imperial engineers uniform, Dash had to admire how realistic the tunic felt – as stuffy and rigid as an authentic Imperial uniform. In addition to their disguises, the group had been given false identification. The men and women they were replacing had taken ill rather unexpectedly and it was no coincidence that they would spend at least a week in sick-bay, heaving up their insides.

“Entering sensor range,” the pilot confirmed, as the group straightened out their cuffs and collars. “Transmitting our security clearance and docking codes.”

There was a long tense silence and Dash listened for the sound of the ships computer bleeping in response. A minute passed and finally they were acknowledged.

“Alright, we've got our approach vector. Syncing our navi-computer with the facilities automated docking systems... and we're set. If you've got any last minute preparations to make, now's the time. We'll be on deck in ten minutes.”

Dash took a deep breath as he watched Ord Trasi and the orbital facility loom larger in front of the main view port, until at last the hangar bay itself yawned wide to admit them. The shields slid soundlessly shut behind them, sealing the shuttle into the facility with a finality that immediately - regardless of how well he hid it - set Starborn on edge.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena kept silent, her hair swept back from her face with clips that conformed to Imperial regulations. She eased a finger under her collar to relieve a bit of the itch that was building up beneath the wool fabric, and tugged on her cuffs to straighten the sleeves.

Her facial scar was carefully covered with makeup, and she'd barely recognized herself in the mirror before they'd boarded the shuttle. She looked the part of a fresh faced junior technician, worlds away from a battle hardened and ragged terror suspect. Agent Starborn, Dashiel, inhaled deeply as the shuttle penetrated the atmospheric shielding of the hangar.

They landed with a soft thump, and she unbuckled her restraints, standing up and rolling her head a little to relieve the stiffness of the flight. She was calm. This was just like when she'd blown up the bacta factory on Thyferra... except nothing at all like it. Lilaena found that she was holding her breath as well, and carefully exhaled, her green eyes on her companions.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

She quickly checked over her gear - which was nothing spectacular. It was standard issued Imperial jumpsuit and tool belt. What was striking was the short black wig that the director was now wearing and brown contacts. Having become adept at switching her looks several times in one day for a mission, such a simple attire took little effort on her part.

As for her partner on the mission, her normally rigid face broke into a reassuring smile as the Director nudged the woman sitting across from her, sensing that woman was nervous. "Just follow my lead. You'll be all right."

Tess was not green to field ops, but she on the other hand her experience was not expansive. At least most of the normal Corellian hotheadedness had simmered down since enlisting with the Rebellion. "Yeah," she responded before her eyes lingered down at the duffel bag securely fastened against the bulkhead. Within it contained the parts of the bomb that she and Grace were going to plant on the station. Squaring her shoulders as if more confidence had been boosted from thin air, she nodded towards her superior. "I mean yes."

[Dashiel Starborn]

On his feet, Dash looked to his partner for the mission, the newcomer Lilaena De'ville. He nodded. “Let's move out,” he said, sounding more confident than he felt.

The landing ramp lowered with a precise hissss and their first glimpse of the staff aboard the Ord Trasi orbital shipyards was a row of white plastoid boots and shin-guards. An officer in a black cap and dress uniform stood at the centre of the nine-man squadron, fresh-faced as any cadet just out of the academy. With his hands crossed at the small of his back, and the polished boot heels clicked together, he angled his chin upwards as he appraised the newly arrived engineering crew. His eyes fixed pointedly on Dash himself, who stood with his shoulders squared and his spine as stiff as a durasteel rod.

“Your papers, specialist.”

For an instant, Starborn wondered why he was being singled out – but of course, it only took that fleeting thought to clarify the issue in his mind. From a team of four, he was the only... well, he. The legions of the Empire were fiercely loyal to their Empress, but they were not beyond chauvinism when it came to their day-to-day business. Deciding to play along and brusquely took charge of the team, collecting their individual identification papers for presentation. Before he presented them to the officer, he shuffled them together neatly and muttered something about incompetence as he turned one that was upside down the right way up.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena had never been surrounded by quite so many Imperial loyalists all at once. But she kept her pulse steady, looking as smart and crisp as a low level tech should after being cooped up in a shuttle for hours. That is to say, slightly wilted and wide-eyed.

She stood quietly behind Starborn as he presented the papers, instincts screaming for her to yank out her lightsaber and run through the midst of the squad before them, sending limbs flying in all directions. Of course part of the reason she was feeling uncomfortable was the absence of her lightsaber. It was the first time she'd ever gone 'on mission' without the weapon stowed somewhere on her person. Instead she had a duffel bag filled with miscellaneous mechanical bits and pieces. Separate they were innocuous enough, but put them together and you could make several bombs that would pack enough whallop to cripple the Empire's operation in Ord Trasi. Starborn was carrying the explosive chewy centers in his holdall, disguised as MRE bars.

She flexed her right hand a bit, keeping her eyes slightly downcast. She'd never done anything like this before. Hitting an Imperial shipyard was something she'd only ever dreamed about previously.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace was all too familiar with the day to day protocol and etiquette, or lack there of, within Imperial life. Tight lip as Dashiel handled the paperwork professionally - she thought the muttering of his incompetent crew was a nice touch - the Director kept her eyes clear of any direct contact. Not because she was afraid of being seen, but a meek female specialist would go unnoticed.

"All right," the Cadet announced after minutes of silence, brooding over the paperwork as if this was the highlight of his day, "Everything's in order. Proceed to your assigned work areas and report in when the work is done. Lunch time is at 1300. Dismissed."

With finality, he held out the documentation.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash took the papers and saluted. A cursory inspection was given to the equipment that the team carried, with the 'troopers prodding the barrels of their blaster rifles into the holdalls. One picked out an MRE bar and suppressed a chuckle before tossing the ration bar back into Starborn's bag. They shared a few glances and then nodded, “Everything's in order here.”

With that, they were free to go. The four of them crossed the cavernous hangar bay, resisting the urge to break into a sprint. It was irrational, but Dash kept expecting someone to suddenly shout and have the Stormtroopers open fire. Against his fears, they made it into a corridor that branched off from the hangar. It was the complete opposite to the docking bay, narrow and cramped and with walls that slopped to a point the higher they went.

Fishing inside the holdall, Dash pulled out a set of maps. “Alright... here are our work areas.”

There were two key targets: first,was the droid brain. So much of the facility was automated that by taking out the central neural computer, they could briefly cripple a great deal of the facilities capabilities and defenses. The second target was the shield generator. There was more than one, but they only needed to hit one of the generators to give Rogue Squadron the opening they needed.

“We'll head to the first area,” Dash said, indicating himself and Lilaena. “And you two to the second,” he added, pointing at Grace and Tess. They had all synchronised their wrist-chronos in transit, and made one last check that they were all running on the same time. There was a precise time frame in which everything had to be done, so that the droid brain and the shields were down simultaneously, providing the necessary window of opportunity for Rogue Squadron.

“We meet back here in two hours precisely. Let's go.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Dashiel was young, but good at his job. Lilaena followed him, content to play second nala fruit to his... first... one... Come to think of it, that figure of speech never had made sense.

She skipped a bit to catch up to him, slinging her bag casually over her shoulder. She wondered if small talk was expected, and decided it wasn't. The Dark Jedi kept her senses open for any indication of their cover being blown.

So far, so good. The two Rebels walked further into the shipyard and closer to their target.

[Dashiel Starborn]

At an intersection, they paused to reorientate. The facility was, like so much of the Empire, uniform throughout. Although he had stashed the directions to their target away mentally, his memory wasn't quite as good as his cousin Jane's. He held his map up against a floor plan that was screwed the corridor wall. A young man in a gray uniform stalked by behind them with his head down, all of his focus on the data-card in his hands. He wasn't the first person they'd passed – the facility was heavily staffed – but no one spoke. The sound of boots clicking against durasteel seemed to be the only sound, aside from the occasional crackle of static as Stormtroopers relayed check-in confirmations to one another.

“Swell place,” Dash muttered, as they set off again. The droid-brain computer would take a turbolift ride down to get to. If their schematics were right, the central processor would be surrounded by a cooling mechanism to ensure the computer was able to run non-stop at full capacity without over-heating.

“Hey!” Starborn tried not to freeze, or to flee. He turned calmly and saw a pair of Stormtroopers some fifteen feet behind them. “One of you, come with us. There's been a malfunction in one of the officer's quarters. He wants it fixed, now.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

An officer? Lilaena stepped forward, "I'll take care of it. Meet you at our workstation in a few minutes."

Starborn, to his credit, didn't do much more than blink and agree with her, and then she was walking over to the pair of Stormtroopers. They started walking, boots clanking on the steel deckplating. "Any idea what I should be expecting when I get there, trooper?"

[Grace Van-Derveld]

The shield generator that was assigned to her and Tess was three levels down and close to one of the maintenance hangars for the TIE fighters. It was a high profile location and the explosion would take out the generator and the hangar next door.

Heads alert and looking through the map, the two of them kept their pace slow and orderly. Tess played with a datapad, pretending to take some sort of readings as they were traveling through the hallways while Grace took lead. Most of the personnel ignored them, not wanting to demean themselves by conversing with techs, female techs no less. They might as well have been ghosts walking the halls. It worked well with the mission.

But then a set of lingering eyes on Tess that the Director did not see as she was focused on the map in front of her. She couldn't have picked out the Sergent's gaze that did a double take at the group. He wasn't in her peripherals, having coming down the intersection at the juncture. Tess kept her eyes forward, towards their destination, seemingly unawares that she may have possibly been recognized.

The Sergent had only a momentary lapse in his stride before shaking off the feelings of deja vu as the the pair arrived at the lift.

"We made it," Tess said quietly and Grace shot her a look as she hit the panel. A thousand apologetic phrases came, but the spy kept her mouth shut.

"Just relax," was all she said, surprisingly in fact, and then entered once the doors opened. There was no warmth in the Director's reply, only a calculating tone to help Tess get through this part of the mission.

Once aboard, the lift doors closed and began its descent to their level.

[Dashiel Starborn]

One of the 'troopers shrugged. “Some kind of fritz with the circuitry in the atmospheric controls.”

Dash watched Lilaena go, the edges of his eyes creasing with a frown as he glanced down at his wrist-chrono. The two hours they had given themselves to complete the mission didn't leave a lot of room for delays, but as always they had to accept that even the best laid plans rarely went off perfectly smoothly – and this plan was far from the best. The Director had pulled the sabotage team together on what felt almost like a whim, but she had chosen operatives who had the skill – and perhaps more importantly, the steel – to get the job done.

Starborn stepped into a turbolift which become to hiss smoothly downwards. He glanced down at his bag and wondered what he was supposed to do if Lilaena didn't make it to their work area.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville followed the Stormtroopers, her head high but careful not to look anyone in the eye. Thankfully the officers quarters were not too far, just a turbolift ride up and another long passage. She sussed out where the environmental controls junction was in the hallway before they stopped in front of a specific door.

A sweaty looking human answered the troopers' knock. "Its hotter than the seven hells in here. If you can fix this..." He trailed off, getting a good look at her. "That will be all, troopers." The armored pair saluted and turned on their heels. "Come in, Ensign." He smiled in a way that Lilaena didn't quite like, and she stepped inside his cabin, the door hissing shut behind her.

[Dashiel Starborn]

“I'd heard they were sending some engineers in from the Core, but I didn't know they'd be so...” The officer hesitated, taking a long and lingering glance over Lilaena. She wasn't the finest looking woman he'd ever seen, but out in the blackness of a space, a man couldn't be too picky. Stars knew that regulation attire rarely brought out the best in the female physique.

Elsewhere... Dash swiped his security card through an access terminal and the door before him slid open with a serpentine hiss. Beyond was a huge, dark room that was lit only by the flickering of the thousands of lights that covered the surface of the droid-brain computer. To Starborn, it felt as if he'd taken the turbolift to the top of Imperial City and was now looking down on the capital, watching street-lamps and traffic signs blinking. Even the hum of the processing units sounded like the distant roar of traffic.

The door slid shut behind him and Dash felt the heat radiating off of the equipment. He fished about in his holdall for a torch. Providing De'Ville got here soon, the best way to make use of his time alone would be able to work out exactly where they would be setting their bomb...

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville smiled tightly at the man, and moved to the climate control panel.

"I already tried that," he said, stepping close to her. "Nothing works. Which is why I sent for you, of course." He was hot and sweaty, wool uniform jacket hanging open. "But maybe..."

He put his hand on her bottom. "You should check -urk!" The officer doubled over, clutching his throat and gagging.

De'Ville shoved him out of the way, her hand stinging a bit from where she'd chopped him in the throat. His trachea had collapsed, and soon enough he did too, jerking about on the floor as she stepped around him. She checked her chrono. There was still enough time to make it down to where she was supposed to be with Starborn.

The Dark Jedi picked up the suffocating officer under his arms and dragged him into the refresher, locking and closing the door behind him. She took a moment to adjust her hair, and then slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and exited the too-hot cabin. The Stormtroopers had moved on, their job done after they had delivered her, which made things a lot simpler.

Lilaena walked briskly to the turbolift and took it down to meet Dashiel.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Knelt amongst various computer terminals, Dash flinched at the sound of the door to the control centre slid open. He held his breath and, leaning forward, peered through the miniature city of whirring tower-blocks. It was De'Ville. He stood and swung his torch down to her feet, lighting the way to the access point he'd been working on.

“That was quick.”

It was difficult to read the expression she wore in the shadows, though being that they were only barely familiar with one another, Dash doubted he could have read Lilaena's mood either way.

“Haven't heard a peep from anyone in here. Not even a mouse droid.”

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Things were going smoothly. Far too smoothly for the Director's liking. Tess and Grace had navigated the station without any distractions and found the shield generator easily. At five minute intervals, a pair of Stormtroopers patrolled the area but paid little attention of the female technicians working diligently.

Grace's upper torso was hidden inside the opened panel. Small flashlight in mouth, she looked over the schematics on her datapad to the actual wiring and circuitry before her. It was not so simple as attaching the bomb and getting the hell out of here. They needed to fix a looping circuit board that was causing a power surge but they were here to replace several properly working power condensers with the specially custom made ones in the bag Tess was holding.

Tess impatience brought her kneeling besides the Director and whispered against the durasteel frame of the panel. "How much longer?" she said, looking around worried.

Sighing, Grace pulled the flashlight out of her mouth and was curt in her response. "The longer you keep asking, the longer it will take."

Returning the flashlight between her teeth, she went back to work in disconnecting the condensers one by one. Tess' eyes narrowed, and she listened intently to what the Director was doing. She heard a small pop of metal and what she presumed were hands rummaging around loose circuits.

"Give me the first condenser," said the muffled, echoing voice of the Director.

Tess took a deep breath and slipped her hand into the duffel bag while being vigilant of her surroundings. By her mental calculations, the Stormtroopers would be arriving soon but nothing would be out of the ordinary. Nothing would cause any suspicion.

A shift in Tess' demeanor would have alerted the Director that something foul was to occur, but she was still entrenched inside the bowels of the deflector panel to notice the handle of a blaster pistol being pulled out instead ...

[TK-3177]

As he entered the shield generator chamber, TK-3177 shifted the stock of his blaster rifle into the crook of his arm. His shift was almost over and the day's patrol had been about as eventful as a day on Ord Trasi could be. If anything, it had been duller than the average day. The brass had shipped in a shuttle load of green in the gills recruits, who needed schooling in how to do the Stormtrooper Corps proud. Loyalty, honour, devotion – these were things you couldn't buy with credits. They had to be bred or beaten into you, and since they'd long ago given up on cloning, it was the latter that had the most lasting effect.

With an almost imperceptible tilt of his helmet, TK-3177 addressed the 'trooper two steps behind on his left. “Pick it up, private.”

“Sir,” came the acknowledgement from the second 'trooper, who quickened their step to fall in line as they strode by the shield generator.

“Not so fast,” 3177 cautioned sharply. “Even pace. Left, right, left right.”

Their helmets turned in unison, glancing wordlessly over the sight of two technicians with their heads buried into their work. They were about the only oddity in the room and the morning's briefs had made it clear that the maintenance crew were to be expected and, to a degree, tolerated. At least until they were off duty.

They passed into the shadow of a structural pillar. “Sir,” the new 'trooper dipped their helmet, but to TK-3177's chagrin soon began to lag behind again. That was what they got for hiring women, and short women at that -

thunk!

[Bryna Belargic]

Swung like a baseball bat, the muzzle of the second troopers E-11 blaster rifle cracked against the back of TK-3177's bucket-head and stars exploded before his eyes. His new recruit tore off their helmet, sending long dark hair spilling out of over the shoulders of their white plastoid armour.

“First time one of these things has ever been on target,” the 'trooper' muttered, as she caught TK-3177 on his tumble to the ground. She guided his fall with her free hand and he slumped into the pillar they were hidden behind, though in the garish bright lights of the station it would provided little cover. Little was enough, however. With her back flush against the pillar's surface, the trooper edged around the corner just in time to see Agent Tess Adramel stood over a faceless, yet far from unfamiliar, body.

“Freeze, dirtbag.”

Adramel twisted guiltily, her hand twitching up out of the holdall she carried to reveal the blaster she had been about to pull. Her eyes were wide and wild with sudden confusion at the sight of the unmasked Stormtrooper, and she tried to hide the pistol before Grace could see it. “Aren't you a little short for a-!”

fth-pew! A blaster bolt sizzled across the room, collided with Tess' knee and dropping her to the floor with a gasp of pain and surprise. Jerking the E-11's sights up to align with Tess' head, Bryna Belargic smirked.

“Yeah, and I shoot better too. So toss me that bag before I pop your skull open like a blumfruit.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena set the duffel bag down carefully, unzipping it and pulling out the pieces needed for the bombs. "It was quiet on the way down, too," she agreed, quickly assembling the first unit with the explosive from Dashiel's bag.

She handed it to him before starting work on the second one. "That's to the specs I was given, but feel free to double check. Not the sort of thing we want going off early." De'Ville looked up at him from where she crouched on the deck, her face illuminated oddly by the towers as she smiled.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

“Freeze, dirtbag.”

Grace shifted within the bowels of the panel and cursed. How they were made, the Director couldn't think about that right now. There was a woman outside with a gun pointed in their direction - though seriously. Dirtbag? She could have come up with a better line then that.

She grabbed onto a sturdy pipe and hand over hand, began to push herself out slowly, knowing with the uncompromising position she was in, the Imperial outside had the upper hand. Pulling a gun out on her would be suicide, but the hydrospanner tucked into her sleeve would make for an easy distraction.

“Aren't you a little short for a-!”

fth-pew!

Years of experience of loosing people in the field hardened Grace for the possibility that Tess was dead. She heard a body hit the floor, a gun slide across it and the Imp outside setting the rifle for another shot.

“Yeah, and I shoot better too. So toss me that bag before I pop your skull open like a blumfruit.”

"Just do it Tess," ordered Grace, knowing it was futile at this point to try anything heroic. "I'm coming out now and I'm unarmed."

As Grace wiggled out of the open panel, a wounded Tess grunted, pushing the duffel bag towards the girl with the gun. The Imperial Spy had never seen this girl before and by Grace's reaction, this wasn't an Alliance Operative, otherwise the big boss would have recognized the voice.

Pushing against the wall, Grace craned her neck outside and stretched out her legs. Hands spread non-threateningly, Grace took a seat and felt a strange sense of familiarity with the girl pointing the gun. She just couldn't place it. Tess noticing this began to wonder if she was wrong in her assessment. Maybe the two of them did know each other... which was bad for her and another patrol wouldn't be coming by for at least another five minutes. A lot could happen in five minutes.

Tess was acting desperate and Grace threw her a look to calm her ass down.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash glanced up as he twisted the second unit, testing how securely the two components were locked together. The low-angled lighting highlighted the contours in De'Ville's features and deepened the shadows beneath her eyes. “It all seems-”

Behind them, the door to the terminal room slid open. The clak-clak-clak of armoured boots filing into the room echoed around them. “Secure the perimeter,” croaked a Stormtrooper. Dash pressed back quickly against one of the computer towers heated casing. “They're in here somewhere and the commander wants them alive. Don't damage anything!”

[Bryna Belargic]

“Look, there's been some kind of misunderstanding...” Tess began to protest, holding her hands up slowly.

“Don't you frakkin' move,” the trooper bit back, jerking her rifle forward as if to remind the Rebel operative that a bolt of the knee would be the least of her worries if she didn't do exactly as instructed.

Yet for all the anger in her eyes, it was to the Director that she kept looking. Her gaze flicked to Van-Derveld again and again, until she was just staring at the woman, with her E-11 still aimed at Agent Adramrel. Her hands shook almost imperceptibly and Bryna redoubled her concentration, willing herself to stay focused.

“She was gonna shoot you,” she said, nudging the holdall that contained Tess Adramel's pistol with the toe of her boot. “And when she met up with Starborn and De'Ville, she'd blame it on the Imps. But she's working for them, mom-” It slipped out without Bryna consciously noticing it, as her words came quicker. “But we don't have time for an interogation,” she added, risking a quick glance to the left and right. “The next patrol is along in two and a half minutes.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena had the final unit completed, and she handed it to Dashiel slowly. She took one silent step to the side to conceal herself against a neighboring tower as four Stormtroopers began to walk deeper into the maze. Her blaster was on the ground by her holdall, and she put out her hand, calling it to her with the Force.

She made sure it was not set on stun, and took a moment to center herself through the Force in the room. Everything had its place in the Force, everything was part of the Force. Lilaena focused through the area Master A'na Eldhil had forged inside her - that hard, hot place that had kept her alive during her training. Then she moved.

One long step to the side as she turned to face the entrance, her body mostly hidden behind the tower. She extended her arm and squeezed off four shots, putting two each in two of the troopers, and then took another step to conceal herself behind another tower.

She was also further away from Dashiel, who was probably, hopefully, putting the explosives in place, although using the timer for them was probably out now.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

No. This 'Trooper' would have been remembered if they were part of Alliance Intel, but it was evident upon her face that she clearly knew the Director. Grace listened to the exchanged but never did they break eye contact, noticing the slight clumsy hold on the E-11 from her peripherals that a trained eye would perceive. She didn't trust this situation at all, but Grace was never one to ignore her gut instinct, which was alarming trusting of this stranger.

Suspicious eyes fell to the blaster next to a white boot and frowned. Tess wanted to object but another threatening glance with the E-11 was enough to swallow down any courage to snipe back with a retort.

"But she's working for them, mom-"

Time was slipping away but even Grace couldn't hide behind her usual mask of detachment as the girl continued to speak quickly, not allowing for any arguments. Even Tess picked on it and looked towards her enemy in utter confusion, wondering if the incident on Corulag had produced something no one had foreseen.

Personal curiosity never overshadowed professionalism. There wasn't enough time to clear up all of the confusion, but there was one way some trust could be gained.

"Give me the pistol," she said, indicating the weapon at the Trooper's foot. If this girl was speaking the truth on any level, she should have no issues about following through on the order.

[Dashiel Starborn]

The room flashed with light as Lilaena loosed four blaster-bolts, the laser-fire briefly illuminating the look of passionless determination etched onto her face. Dash flinched away from the tower he was crouched against and swore under his breath; even through his uniform jacket, the heat from the casing was scorching. His palms felt slick with sweat as he forced the final of their demolitions units into place. They had a complex, timed detonation trigger, which had been pre-set to their mission parameters, but it had to be soldered onto the rest of the payload. The odds of fitting it into place with clammy hands, under threat of blaster-fire, weren't good. Starborn started to edge out towards where he thought De'Ville was, but a blaster-bolt lanced through the air he'd been about to occupy.

[Bryna Belargic]

Without wavering in her aim, the trooper crouched low and pulled Tess's gun out of the duffel. She tossed it across to Grace who caught the pistol like a Tooke-trap plant snatching a hapless fly from mid-air. Cold sweat was practically rolling off of Tess Adramel, who was getting paler by the second. She looked harmless enough, as if all of this was a terrible, unexpected mistake – but Bryna knew better. Behind those frantic eyes was the mind of a traitor. She was a woman who'd step on her mother's corpse to survive.

“Two minutes. Time to get going. ”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena rolled around the vertical tower she was up against, tracking the closet Stormtrooper still standing that happened to be heading towards Starborn. It fired at him, and De'Ville snapped her blaster up and aimed, shooting the trooper under the arm and between its armor plates as it held its blaster rifle out in front of it.

The fourth and final Stormtrooper was smarter, watching her blaster flashes to find her even as she ducked back behind the server towers and moved silently to another position. The trooper was not silent as it tried to shadow her movements, and she reached out with the Force and pulled it off balance, slamming it helmet first into one of the servers. It shot its blaster rifle randomly, narrowly missing De'Ville and making her have to leap back behind another tower.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

"I'm going to promise you one thing, Tess." She checked the clip and trained the gun onto the trembling woman. "If you don't cooperate when we get back to base, I'm going to take great pleasure in making you talk."

Grabbing the traitor by the neck, she dragged Tess to her feet and shoved her forward. "Get your helmet back on," she said and tucked the pistol into her jumpsuit. The fabric was thick and bulky and could hide it well enough. "You'll escort her back to the ship."

Grace pulled out the fake condensers from the duffel bag and started working on what she had came here to do. The mission was all that mattered and there was a chance to salvage it, Grace was going to do everything in her power to make it a success. She knew in her heart, Dashiel was doing the same. "They'll think she's still playing along and got captured to keep her cover. I'll catch up."

When the unknown operative failed to move, Grace wasted a precious second and pointed a hydrospanner at her. "Go!"

[Bryna Belargic]

She caught Adramel by the upper arm and twisted her quickly, to force the barrel of her E-11 against the back of the woman's neck. Just one twitch of her fingertip would be all it would take to blow Tess' brains out. As much as she would have liked to see the pattern that painted against the station's walls, Bryna didn't move until her mother barked a steely, final: “Go!”

Half a minute later, Tess Adramel was marching ahead of her, their boot steps clanging in time against the durasteel grating that lined the corridor's floor. Bryna's helmet was once again in place, but even in the built in cooling control system couldn't hold back the sweat that was now beading on her brow. She drew in a deep breath, remembering a breathing exercise she'd been taught early on in her apprenticeship, and felt the flow of the Force beginning to calm her once again.

“This is TK-4361, reporting hostiles in sector 17, need back up. Repeat: hostiles in sector 17- send-”

The transmission – fed across the commlink that linked her helmet to the rest of the garrison aboard the station – cut off abruptly. Sector 17. That was where Starborn and De'Ville were – but in her world, there had never been any conflict in sector 17.

[Dashiel Starborn]

A shot screeched over head, its shriek soon joined by the roar of a Stormtrooper as he crashed to the ground. Lightning fast, Dash bobbed his head out of and back into cover, catching a brief glimpse of a Stormtrooper apparently falling head first into one of the computer towers. The sight made him laugh and frown in the same instant. The adrenaline pushing through his veins steadied his hands as he hastily traced the soldering iron around the detonation trigger. De'Ville fell into a crouch beside Dash as he sat back from the server.

“You're one hell of a shot.” He grinned in the dark and took a moment to admire his own handiwork. Rising to his feet, he tossed the soldering kit into the darkness. “Think we've got time to hack the access panels before the cavalry arrives?” he added, with a nod towards the server room's exit.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Yes," she replied. "And if I'm wrong I'll hold them off while you finish."

Dashiel nodded, his grin fading, and she dug the slicing module out of the duffel bag, activating it as he moved to the access panel and exposed the wires. Handing the equipment over to Starborn, De'Ville left his side to check the fallen troopers and make sure they were all out.

The one who'd 'fallen' into the server was beginning to stir, and she called a soft warning to Dashiel so he wouldn't be surprised at the sudden sound. Then she dispatched the Stormtrooper with a blaster bolt under his armpit into his chest, and crept toward the exit to see how the passageway was looking.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Years of trying to work under pressure made for steady hands. Grace quickly grabbed the fake condensers to replace the old ones. There was no time to do this delicately, but she re-connected the wiring to make it appear that everything was in order at casual glance. Her main concern were placing all of the bombs and that the remote detonator was armed. A red light appeared once it was and the Director inhaled success before pushing herself free of the wall unit. Sliding the panel back into place, she grabbed the duffel bag and hugged the wall.

No sound of anything and she was under the time frame before the next patrol, but barely. Someone should have swept this area by now. She had a bad feeling about it and never relied on luck. Cautious, she rounded the corner with a hand close to the hidden pistol within her jumpsuit. The Operative claiming to be her daughter and Adramel couldn't be too far ahead, but Grace kept a steady pace, not wishing to drawn attention to herself. Yet, as she moved into the more busier hallway that opened up to several adjoining ones, footsteps slowed and she was genuinely confused. There was a hustle of activity heading away from this sector. It was clear by the patrol patterns. That bad feeling she had was growing as Grace refocuses and realized where she was. De'Ville and Starborn were in that direction and the two facts couldn't be coincidence.

Starborn do you copy? she whispered into her earpiece while looking for Adramel being held hostage by a short trooper. There's a significant amount of activity heading your way.

[Bryna Belargic]

“TK-4631, report.... TK-3177, report...”

It might have been vain, but part of Bryna felt relief to hear the radio silence that followed the comm chatter inside her stolen helmet. The absence of any response from the troopers on patrol was surely a signal that De'Ville and Starborn had dealt with whoever had stumbled on their sabotage-in-progress.

As both she and Adramel turned a corner, another pair of 'troopers came into view, walking in the opposite direction. They stopped short, one nodding his helmet towards Bryna and her prisoner.

“What's going on here?”

With one hand still holding the E-11 against Tess' back, Bryna gave a discreet flutter of her fingers and felt the quivering of her pulse inside her chest. “We're going to fix a docking clamp in the hangar bay. We don't need any help.”

“You don't need our help,” one of the 'troopers agreed. The other looked Tess in the eye for a moment before shrugging. He wasn't paid enough to care about faulty docking clamps. The two 'troopers moved on, and Bryna spared only a seconds glance over their shoulder at their retreating steps. It wasn't far too the hangar bay and, Force willing, the shuttle that could carry them to freedom.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash only spared a glance at De'Ville when she put the last of the 'troopers out of his misery. As he worked with the slicing module, recalling the many hours he had spent in basic training cracking simple and complicated systems alike, Starborn fought the urge to frown at De'Ville, reminding himself that the Stormtroopers were the enemy and would have burned blaster-bolt sized holes in the back of his head if they'd had the chance. Still, he couldn't deny that it unsettled him some to see Lilaena perform such a methodical execution. That's why she's SpecForce and you're not.

“Alright,” he slammed the access panel shut, confident that the slicing kit had done its work. Power was being rerouted throughout the door's in-built system, scrambling the pre-set access codes and ensuring that anyone intent on getting into the server room would need to blow-torch or a frag grenade to open the door. With that done, all that was was activate the detonation count-down and seal the room. Lilaena waved the all-clear and Dash quickly flicked the activation switch on the detonation count-down, before sprinting out of the server room into the clear corridor with the door jolting shut behind him.

“Starborn, do you copy?” a voice whispered in his ear. “There's a significant amount of activity heading your way.”

“Copy that,” he acknowledged, suppressing a sigh. “Tess and the Director must be done on their end. We should get out of here, before another patrol comes to check up on their buddies – or that timer reaches zero.”