Ol'averde be Haar Mav [Popsicles]

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena stood on the bridge of the Haran, letting Bretak captain the ship out of hyperspace while she watched, the rest of the fleet dropping out in formation around the large ship. In truth, she was distracted, her thoughts on the apprentices who had joined her, the adepts in need of teaching. There were more than she had time to devote the needed attention to, yet she felt uncomfortable letting any of the others take over as masters. She would have to, of course. She already trusted those around her as much as she could trust anyone, which is to say, not very much. Zereth would be a fine teacher, though he topped the list of those who were likely to challenge her authority. Coupled with his unusual bond to Tyber, the volatile refugee from the Mandalorian Wars of four thousand years ago...? Who could say what would happen? Lyydea, Ireen, Torgeir - De'Ville was loathe to entrust their formative experiences with the Force to another.

"Mand'alor?"

She looked at Bretak, suddenly aware he'd been talking to her. "Yes?"

"Would you like to take the call in the captain's office?" He was wearing his full armor, considering himself to be on duty and thus needing to be prepared. She was not wearing armor, preferring to wear it only for special occasions or missions, but her jumpsuit and cloak were embroidered with Mandalorian text and in the white, black, and red colors of Mand'alor. The white cloak trimmed in red and black swept around her ankles as she nodded and turned toward the office.

De'Ville studied the information on the incoming transmission before pressing accept. It was routed through the usual back channels, making its origin difficult to trace, and it was directed toward their fully anonymized comm number. The one they used for the mercenary company, the one they called Ol'averde be Haar Mav. Company of the Free. They took work through word of mouth only, keeping their options open and taking only the jobs they wanted to do. Some of Kazaar's old associates had apparently passed on their information to a potential new client.

She declined holographic connection, accepting a voice call only. Her own voice would be subtly modulated through the comms, keeping her identity carefully anonymous.

"You have work for me?"

[Y'roth Helghast]

The droid IMP flew from one corner of the small room to the other. The mainframe AI of the now disbanded Imperial organization, the Nightmares, had been reduced to a shell of its former self. Subroutines of IMP lay dormant throughout remains of the Imperial Inquisitoriate's network infrastructure but every day other AI systems and mainframes cleaned and purged pieces away and newer levels were built on top with varying degrees of classification under new protocols that IMP no longer had authorization to.

It had been impossible odds under the query that Inquisitor Victor Crestmere had set IMP to continue an unending search across the breadth of the Empire for any sign of the target. Statistically impossible. IMP had explained that to Inquisitor Crestmere in hopes that the human in whatever schizophrenic personality he had assumed would be able to grasp. But the endstate offered by the information was worth trying as it came to virtually no cost to Crestmere, IMP, or the ongoing operations.

Since reduced to a droid, and Crestmere being the last member that IMP had been able to associate with, the AI had been assisting Crestmere conduct a passive insurgency and information operations at the fringes of Alliance and Imperial space for several years now. Crestmere had been operating as an information broker, Milliardo Kah'neh'dah, that mostly supported Alliance operations. Years of information and data had been stored in anticipation that Crestmere would one day reconnect with the Inquisitoriate, but no contact had been made. IMP did not have a recommendation either way. IMP could not conclusively determine the certificates of any Imperial Organization except for perhaps the internal revenue algorithm that collected taxes to an exacting degree.

SIR. HOLOGRAPHIC CONNECTION DECLINED. COMM CHANNEL WITH COMPANY OF THE FREE ESTABLISHED. FOUR SECOND DELAY. VOICE MODULATION IDENTIFIED. VOICE MODULATION ENGAGED.

The droid hovered around the sole inhabitant of the room. The Company of the Free had been the organization provided them as the best avenue to securing the target. The contact that had provided the information had made it clear that the Company of the Free would be interested under the premise that they were rescuing the imprisoned force adepts at the Liberty Resort, an Imperial Black Site, on the planet of Hoth.

[Victor Crestmere]

You know this isn't going to work.

Victor ignored the shrill voice inside his head. Too much was on the line at this moment for distractions. Months of planning had led up to the moment. Not to mention countless man hours, forgotten favors called in, and one destroyed Republic Corvette later, Victor finally felt like all the pieces were in place. Now came the hard part...

They'll know you're lying and then what?

Milliardo Kah'Neh'Dah. The voice currently blabbing resided deep within the codex that was Victor's schizophrenic mind. Years ago Victor had been on Naboo impersonating a slythmonger when he was contacted by the aforementioned underling who was in possession of various types of information. An Alliance sympathizer himself, Milliardo dispensed information pertaining to Imperial armaments in neighboring star systems, a secret rendezvous of subversive senators plotting against a rival office, secret trade routes in the Outter Rim, and then, almost as an after thought, he dropped information about a rumored, off the books Imperial blacksite. He didn't know much else, but that didn't matter. Victor was intrigued. The how or the why this man had this type of information were naturally at the forefront of his mind, but the normal level of caution typically adopted by Victor in this situations was cast the wayside. Victor couldn't help himself. He longed for the deep dark secrets of the Empire. The line had been cast and like an Naboo Opee Sea Killer, Crestmere bit. Milliardo was scooped up and thrown into one of Victor's special holding cells and weeks later, Victor had added another persona to his vast repertoire.

With the help of IMP and other various contacts Victor had made over the years as well as contacts of Milliardo, he finally tracked the the location of the blacksite to the planet Hoth. Fragments of classified documents hinted at some sort of facility that was specifically built to house force adepts that the Empire deemed too unpredictable, but Victor was never able to find much more. Whoever had sealed these documents, did so with the intentions of burying this place and those who resided in it...however, they didn't anticipate a former Nightmare getting his hands on this information.

Victor needed access to the facility to ascertain just what was inside. A force adept had its uses if properly motivated with an explosive collar... Realizing that this was now a recon mission, discretion would be key but he couldn't actually be on site to access the facility. Instead, Victor would use several DRK-1 probe droids to do all the leg work. Using Milliardo's republic corvette, Victor programmed the ship crash land on the planets surface. After crashing, the probe droids set out under cover of darkness ( and a snow storm) to gather what they could about the blacksite. The droids were able to make access and relaid all information through Victors personal secret channels. It was hours later that IMP would tell Victor of the facilities VIP prisoner and their new target.

"Maybe. Maybe not..."

Before Victor could finish, the door to his quarters opened with a hiss and hovering ever so quietly outside the door was IMP. Victor had a soft spot for that droid. To say it reminded him of better days was an understatement, but what it lacked in tact, it made up with complete and total loyalty to the former Inquisitor. Granted, several of its previous functions have long been erased or rewritten, mainly by the will of the droid itself, IMP still played a large role in Crestmere's overall function.

"IMP. Have you made contact?"

SIR. HOLOGRAPHIC CONNECTION DECLINED. COMM CHANNEL WITH COMPANY OF THE FREE ESTABLISHED. FOUR SECOND DELAY. VOICE MODULATION IDENTIFIED. VOICE MODULATION ENGAGED.

Four seconds may have caused a sense of dread and panic for some, but not for Victor. This is what he did. This is who he was and this is what he lived for, deception.

"Greeeetings Company of the Free!" Victor said in a shrill voice. "My name is Milliardo Kah'Neh'Dah. You can call me Mill."

My voice isn't that high ya know...

"Let me start by saying, I loooove what you guys do!"

Stop elongating my words...

"Freeeeeing all those peoples and what not. Reeeeal deeeeeal life changers you guys are!"

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

"Wiiith that said, I don't suppose you guys would be interested in trading for some information? Ya know, of the secretive kind and what not."

I hate you...

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The voice coming through the comms was high pitched and instantly grating. Milliardo Canehda? She'd have to look up the spelling later. "It depends on the information. And what you want in trade." De'Ville was careful to inflect her vowel sounds with a Mandalorian accent as she spoke.

She had precious little to barter with, except for the skill and expertise of her Mando'ade. They were still adjusting to their life in the stars, as opposed to their life on Onderon surrounded by constant death. Their colony on a remote part of Dantooine was already having something of a baby boom, now that the plants themselves were not trying to kill them.

[Victor Crestmere]

What!? Depends on the information my...

Victor allowed himself a quick smile. While Milliardo went on about the credibility of his information, Victor instantly picked up on the inflection used by the other's voice. Mandalorian? Perhaps. When Victor first learned of the Company of the Free, he had heard rumors about their being Mandolarians within their ranks, but like most information these days, it was all rumors. Nothing concrete. Making a mental note to look into this more at a later date, Victor composed himself and continued.

"I can assure you, this is geeeenuine, reeeeal deeeal, leeeegimate, information of the life saaaving kind! Riiight up your ally...that is, if what I heard about you is true and all?"

In all honesty, it was a mixture of curiosity and fascination that provoked his current line of questioning. If this lady was truly of Mandalore decent, Victor needed to know which type: the new age, peace loving kind or the Death Watch (shoot first and never ask questions. Glory to the old days) type. What better way to get a quick response out of someone than to question their integrity? Victor quickly continued so as not to give her the option of replying right away. He wanted to poke the bear a little more.

"Some peeeople say that you're only in it for the moneeey. Some peeeople say its about notorieeeety. Meee? I like to think its about saviiing folks, but what do I know? "

I swear, when I get out...

You don't "get out" moron.

The others were beginning to stir and would do their best to make things difficult for Victor. He would have to remember to IMP check and tweak his neural implant after this.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The information broker was trolling for more information, and De'Ville wasn't about to give it to him. "Tell me what you have to sell, or this call is over." He seemed happy to beat around the bush but she'd spent too much time listening to his elongated words already. "Do you want to hire the Company, or do you know someone who does?"

[Victor Crestmere]

Well that didn't work now did it? Should have let me handles this.

What part of this dont you understand? That is "you" handling this...Where do you find these people?

My guess is that she didn't like to share with the class

Even a broken clock is sometimes right... Victor thought to himself as the voices rambled on.

"Now now, no neeeed to be seeensitive. Of course I want to hire you. I just neeeed to know that you can do the job... I am in posseeession of some ratheeer seeensitive Impeeerial infomation. The "how" and the "why" I have it, doeeesn't matter. What does matter, is that I want to beee rid of it."

Victor was sure he had her attention at this point.

"As far as my compeeensation, how about you owe meee a favor down the road? As this is someeething I am sure you won't want to pass up."

Victor allowed for a dramatic pause, if only to irritate the caller a little more.

"On the planeeet Hoth, theeere is a seeecrete Imperial black-site called Haveeen. It was built with the soul purpose of imprisoning those the Empire thought too... uncontrollable. Prisoneeers of war, political figureees, and force seeensitiveees alike. These poor souls are dropped off and never heeeard from again. I neeed you to do your thang and get them out. It's that simple."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She grunted, a sound somewhere between interest and disinterest. "Seems like if we do 'our thang' and get them out, that's the favor. Information on the location of the black-site, in exchange for us checking it out and breaking out the prisoners.

"Simple enough for you?" De'Ville was already bringing up the Anoat Sector on her starcharts, selecting the Hoth System and enlarging it.

[Victor Crestmere]

Victor waved his hand in the air as if swatting a fly... "Bah, worth a shot! Theee coordinates aree as follows: 41°24'12.2"N 2°10'26.5"E"

Victor rubbed his temple. The voices were growing louder as time went by, making concentration even more difficult.

"I am unsure about deeefeeenses as I have not verified theee information with my own eeyes, but I can asssure you that I got it from a veeery creeedible source. Howeeeveeer, given your your level of expeeertiseee, I'm sure you'll verify all this yourseeelf."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"We will." De'Ville input the coordinates into her holographic map of Hoth as he said them. Hoth was mapped fairly well, if you had the right security clearances. The Alliance had used the ice planet for a base years ago while they were solidly the Rebellion, and the Empire had proceeded to conduct a major ground battle to root them out from under their planetside shields. Both governments had high resolution scans of the planet, and while the Alliance had been forced to abandon their position in the Hoth system, it appeared the Empire had kept a finger on the planet.

It was an ideal place to have a secret base, after all.

The map of Hoth that she currently had in her ship's systems was one she had sliced out of the Alliance mainframe back when she was in SpecOps, in a package that had included almost all of the Rebellion's former bases. The intrusion into the system had never been traced back to her, if it had been discovered at all, but it was still out of date. The location of the abandoned Echo Base and the immediate fortifications were clearly marked, and kilometers of the planet were painstakingly mapped ...but the coordinates Milliardo had just given her were on the other hemisphere of the globe in a spot of irritating blank white.

"If it is as you say, but not feasible for us to attack this so-called black site, then we will contact you on the number you are calling from. We will owe you a different favor."

[Y'roth Helghast]

IMP cut the feed as soon as the voice finished.

SIR. CONNECTION LOST. YOUR SHIP IS PREPARED FOR DEPARTURE.

The sphere that housed IMP flitted about the room as if impatient. IMP had begun a number of anticipatory count downs based upon current factors and contributing circumstances.

==========

"Hey. Wake up, Rook."

The soldier stood up suddenly, brushing the ice off, startled and put off.

"That's the kind of sleep you don't wake up from, new guy. This kind of cold, around here, we'd just as likely find your corpse tucked away like that."

The Sergeant continued to scold the newcomer about the dangers of such negligence but the soldier quickly turned the noise off and drifted off as many were want to do whenever such invaluable mentors felt the need to impart more than 30 seconds of their wisdom. The soldier was not sure what he had done to be sent to Outpost Haven but he was sure that some great entity among the stars hated him sincerely. No one signed up thinking that they would be fresh out the gate, sent to Hoth on security detail. Security detail for what? He was constantly reminded that he did not have the adequate clearance to know what was going on here but what few things he had noted, still did not satisfy any of his major questions. No one ever went into the Black Turbo Lift. Things went into the lift, but no one from up here ever went down where ever the lift went. And the Black Turbo Lift did not go higher than the first floor as far as the soldier could tell of the five storied compound they operated out of. Large containers were delivered on an infrequent basis, and then the guards would put these containers unattended in the turbo lift. The black doors closed and that was it. Magic trick, the containers would disappear. Nothing came out though. The soldier never saw people or any containers ever return. 'Why' was his most frequent question, and higher ups just continued to remind him that questions like 'Why' were dangerous to say the least.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

It was a door built into the side of an icy mountain. There was surely more to it than that, but the probe droid had only returned the images of a set of large doors. Analysis revealed the doors were big enough to admit a Lambda-class shuttle, but there were no ships in orbit. Hoth was, for all intents and purposes, an uninhabited world who's system was bordered by an imposing asteroid field.

There could be anything hiding in the asteroid field, of course. Listening posts attached to the rocks, droid ships on standby hidden inside a bigger 'roid... The approach to the system would be done from the other side.

The Aranar, an Interceptor-class frigate, was small enough to slip into the system relatively unnoticed - keeping the planet between itself and the black-site. De'Ville stood in the hold, the largest space on the ship, surrounded by cold-shielded speeders and bes'uliik. Basilisk War Droids. The droids, after centuries of refurbishing, resembled the muscular, panther-like bomas and deadly drexls from the Demon moon Dxun and it's planet, Onderon.

The Mandalorians were experimenting with returning the battle droids to their space-faring capabilities, but so far they remained solely land based instruments of war. They also each had personalities of their own, much more like barely tamed beasts than droids. She placed a hand on the back of her mount, a boma patterned droid called Buruk, as Jeng spoke to her. "The buurenaar is developing around the site as predicted. Te buyacir cuyir kovid luubid at disrupt val munit chaaj transmissions."

She nodded. The storm would keep the facility quiet and mask their approach, but it meant they would be traveling through a deadly blizzard. The armored verda around her were as prepared as they could be - warming suits on under the traditional Mandalorian plate armor, their distinct colors painted over with a dull white. They stood quietly as the ship descended roughly through the atmosphere of Hoth to their rendezvous point. "Gar kar'taylir te dajun. Gar cuir slanar at te top be te cerar, hiibir dayn te antenna while vi assault te Kurshok. Once bic cuyir tenn vi slanar o'r, kyr'amur anay imperial vi haa'taylir.

"Meh bic goes dush, vi yaimpar olar at te Aranar. Ra, vi jor'chaajir te Aranar at mhi, bal load te prisoners onto bic. Bic Kelir cuyir crowded, a shi akay vi c'ogir te Haran. Suvarir?"

"We are tsikala," said Jeng, and the others agree. They were prepared, ready, and deadly silent as the ship hovered above the snowy plain they'd chosen, the bay doors opening. The force field flickered out, and the group of thirty Mando'ade were blasted with an icy wind, snow swirling into the ship as they mounted up. The bes'uliik, all eight of them, leapt out of the Aranar. The feet of the droids had been retrofitted to make traveling over the snow easier, and De'Ville grinned underneath her whitened helmet as Buruk bounded toward the horizon.

The speeders whined through the air behind the bes'uliik, and the small group headed directly for the wall of storm clouds that they would travel beneath as it approached the black site. Behind them the Aranar lifted ponderously out of the atmosphere to maintain a low stationary orbit.



*"You know the plan. You four go to the top of the mountain, take out the antenna while we assault the door. Once it is open we go in, kill every Imperial we see.

If it goes bad, we return here to the Aranar. Or, we call the Aranar to us, and load the prisoners onto it. It will be crowded, but only until we reach the Haran. Understand?"

[Y'roth Helghast]

The sergeant left the soldier after giving him the official tear down on both ears and a firm slap up the side of the newbie's helmet. He walked to the other side of the hangar, the largest room and the only room that led to the sub-levels below. The sergeant had been here since they first built this drenhole five years ago. All he needed was another dead newbie. They always stuck him with the daft ones. Then they always stuck him with a mediocre performance review for it. He half thought they had engineered some scheme that kept him on permanent guard duty there at Outpost Haven. And he'd still never seen anything past those turbolift doors.

The sergeant did his rounds, checking on his charges, less the physical security and more the welfare and vigilance of the ten troopers underneath him. The hangar opened to the south, away from the mountain that the compound was backed up against. A corridor branched out to the east with the headquarters, comms, and the base defense and operations center (BDOC) and the corridor to the west led to the dining facility (DFAC), barracks, and the basic infrastructure to make the top level barely livable.

Two more soldiers found sleeping, one he thought he'd nearly lost but with the kid's helmet off and some salts under his nose, the kid was up and about, waving his arms, snot and tears dripping from his face. That'll teach 'em. Not like anything was coming this way, but the boys needed to work to earn that pay. Anything else was stealing from the hardworking citizens of the Empire.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The storm howled around the Mandalorian warriors, but their pace barely slowed. The speeders were adequately protected from the bitter cold, and afforded their occupants some protection from the elements, but could be blown off course when the wind gusted strongly. They had fallen behind the basilisks, but were still near enough to show up on her armor's scanner. De'Ville had settled into a semi-comfortable position on the droid's back, her boots locked in as she crouched low on Buruk. The basilisk droid had enough weaponry on it to take on a squad of AT-STs, as did all of it's kin.

The doors of the hangar would not last long against the assault of seven basilisks. A warning chime sounded in her ear, and De'Ville focused on her HUD, bringing Buruk to a halt where they were still out of sight from the doors, even if they had not been riding inside a blizzard. The droid paced a little, a quirk of it's animal-like programming, as the other Mando'ade gathered around her. The storm had strengthened to whiteout conditions, and they were relying completely on their electronic links to stay together. Speaking of - one of the speeders was missing. De'Ville pressed her lips into a line. They would either find their way out of the storm, or they would not. The loss of five warriors was not one she took lightly, but they were committed to their plan, and would have to make do. "We will remain here until you signal their comms are cut."

Aang, the Mando'ade leading the assault on the communications array that was cleverly disguised on the top of the mountain, nodded. Not that anyone could really see it - with everyone in white against a white background, it was like being surrounded by ghosts. Only her HUD, and the Force, was not fooled, telling her where everyone was. A Mando'ade from a speeder climbed onto the back of Aang's basilisk, and they bounded off.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 24:00 =====

"Ey, did you find him yet?"

The sergeant walked down the hallway, slinging his rifle, checking his commlink.

"Ey, hey! Respond already!"

The sergeant found one of his subordinates with his helmet off, checking the commlink.

"Sarge, you're voice cut off mid transmission."

The sergeant shook his head and sighed.

"Great... Great. Go find Corporal Ferden, go check the comm array status. Bet a chunk of the hillside took it out again. The whole network is likely down if that's the case... I better head to the lift. The supervisor'll be up here any second to ask what we're doing about it."

The sergeant shook his head, sighing, turning back the way he had come towards the hangar and where the lift would soon be opening up with one of his least favorite people this side of the galaxy.

===== 23:53 =====

"Madame Supervisor. The comms are out."

The trooper in black metallic armor stood off to the side of the room. The woman sat in a black leather chair, the dark room cast in the dim blue glow from the cylinder in the middle of the room. The glass of wine in her hand caught the reflection as much as the metallic sheen of her hand.

"And captain?"

She could sense the man's impatience and she'd let him marinate in it. Stupid dog, wasting her time with trivialities.

"Protocol requires that I notify the supervisor in case of lost connection with the reserve forces positioned at the sigma vector. We currently have 23 hours and 51 minutes to re-establish the connection before they arrive en masse with the purge directive, Madame Supervisor."

Oh that. Supervisor Llawl pursed her lips in frustration. She rose, straightening her black officer's uniform before sipping the wine, breathing it in, closing her eyes.

"Two guards, two minutes, at the lift ready to go up. Don't make me wait for it either..."

As she walked away, her cybernetic fingers slid across the surface of the massive glass cylinder in the middle of the room, ice flaking from it's surface. She smiled grimly as her fingers trailed by the shadow of the hand within. She stepped out of the lounge that had once been the place where they froze the first round of prisoners. They had not had to freeze any prisoners for some time; for the most part they arrived already prepackaged of which the supervisor had no complaints. The man in the tube that she had just left had been the last supervisor. He had been trouble, not fit for this kind of isolation. Plus he'd made for a poor husband after all was said and done.

Leaving the lounge led her out into the storage area of sub level 7, the second deepest where most of the staff remained. The storage area was a massive sprawl, row after row of cylinders similar to that in her lounge. Row after row of prisoner, dissidents, trouble makers, and the unwanted of the Empire. There was a groan that made her turn her head sharply as if the noise was unfamiliar. Even after the last few years, she never really grew used to the groans of the metal compound in the dark, as if the mountain was leaning against the walls. And the noise seemed even worse on the level below. Most of the guards, elite storm troopers, would not even remain down on sub level 8 for long. Sub level 8 harbored the true dangers to the Empire, Force Adepts of all sorts, and even Supervisor Llawl had suspicions that some of them were not truly capable of true captivity while cryo-frozen.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The cluster shockwave generator rods in the nose of Buruk hummed with energy as she pointed the big droid's head toward the thick durasteel hangar doors. Jeng and Vason activated the rods in their basilisks as well, and the shockwave generators fired in unison, the sonic waves tearing through the doors while Choruk, Teroch, and Granoi stood ready on their own war droids.

As the doors exploded into the space behind them, the three Mando'ade and their huge basilisks bounded through the hole, laser cannons firing at any thing that moved. Shoot first, ask questions never. Lilaena nudged Buruk with her knees, and the three meters tall droid leapt into the facility. "Guard the exit," she commanded it, standing up on it's back and jumping off, turning a neat somersault in the air and landing lightly. The speeders had been left outside the doors, the Mandalorian Acolytes flying in through the hole with their jetpacks as the blizzard swirled in behind them.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:50 =====

The sergeant was idly standing beside the lift, waiting for his inevitable pain of the day. The wind sounded something fierce outside, like it was so strong that the hangar doors themselves were bending inwards. He had just glanced in that direction when the hangar exploded. He scrambled behind some storage containers, heart pounding as he brought his EL-11 rifle up and over the container.

"Contact! We've got contact in the hangar-"

He stopped himself short, remembering that comms were down. Through his shock, it clicked that maybe the comms going out and the metal monstrosities walking through the hole in the front doors were likely connected.

"Frak."

Corporal Ferden and the other trooper from before came running into the hangar, firing wildly as they tried to get to some cover. The sleepy troopers from the other wing came in at the same time, half dodging the random shots from the other two.

"Frakking frak."

===== 23:47 =====

COMPOUND ACCESS COMPROMISED, MAIN LEVEL. BLASTER FIRE DETECTED.

The turbo lift came to a halt as the black armored trooper immediately redirected the lift back down.

"Show me..."

The metal bracelet on her organic arm extended, uncoiling, and the holoscreen appeared, displaying the security cams. Mandolorians? And war droids? She chewed on her tongue in frustration. What were a bunch of scavenging raiders doing out here? Likely they had no idea what they were after, just that while living in whatever drenhole they lived in, they'd seen a shuttle stop by now and then and figured they would finally take the opportunity.

"Captain."

"Madame Supervisor."

"Muster your men. We have unwanted visitors."

"Roger, I see them. We're positioning ourselves at sub levels 6 through 8."

"No, put some on all levels, they're only scavengers and they're going to take the path of least resistance."

"Madame, they have war droids that will fit on that lift you're currently standing in. I need to mass what firepower I have. We're not equipped to fight one of those... things."

The lift reached sub level 7, doors opening to reveal a squad of troopers standing by waiting to get on board themselves and reinforce according to the Captain.

"Do as you're ordered, Captain."

"Madame, you have the run of things but quite frankly, I have matters of security. I understand the purge protocol is underway. We'll funnel them into the automated defenses first and then I'll handle them from there. Sub levels 1 through 5 are acceptable losses in this case. We will drop the fail safes if they hit those levels first. Captain Aveedes out."

The audible click of the channel meant that her command channel was her alone. Storm troopers, even the elite... The supervisor headed for her main offices, troopers avoiding her like she was one of those lumbering war droids herself.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

==23:45==

Buruk's laser cannon took a snowtrooper's legs off before the man even realized he'd been hit, his blaster rifle splattering bolts up the wall and into the ceiling of the hangar as he fell back to the ground in a screaming pool of red. The bes'uliiks held back, however, content to guard the new entrance they'd created while the Mando'ade streamed inside. De'Ville had run at the first two snowtroopers who'd challenged them, using the Force to enhance her speed so she was on them before they realized she'd closed the distance. She jammed her blaster under one's helmet at the chin, pulled the trigger. He dropped to the ground as she turned on the second trooper, flicking her fingers and yanking his EL-11 to the side with the Force, sending his shot off course as Jeng leveled his Mandalorian disintegrator at him, a white bolt taking the trooper in the chest and blowing a hole through him.

There were two snowtroopers still firing, from the back of the hangar behind some storage containers. One was yelling something, maybe orders, maybe a last prayer to whatever deity he worshiped. De'Ville gestured toward the east and west passages, and ten Acolytes split off to clear the area, five down each side. The remaining troopers kept firing at the Mando'ade, and it was tempting to use Buruk to blast the containers to smithereens, but she didn't want to risk destroying the turbolift behind them.

Lilaena raised her arm and fired a grappling hook from her gauntlet into the ceiling above the sergeant while Choruk and Granoi kept him occupied by returning fire. She lifted off from the ground at speed, flying through the air at an angle until she released the high tensile wire, dropping down behind him, in front of the large turbolift. To his credit, the sergeant tracked what was happening and nearly caught her with a bolt when she landed, but she ignited her lightsaber and deflected the bolt harmlessly away.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The sergeant kicked himself backwards into the corner of the storage crater against the wall. Mandolorians, war droids, lightsabers. It was all too much. Too much for him and his sleepy squad. The poor boys, they had not stood a chance. Where were the reinforcements? Where were all those people that disappeared down below? Would they come? Would they save them? He leveled his rifle at the warrior with the lightsaber approaching him, thinking back to his thoughts only an hour or so ago. What had he done to deserve this? His finger pulled the trigger in a burst of defiant futility.

===== 23:42 =====

"I count 21, Sir."

"Count again... Look there, at the one with the lightsaber."

Captain Aveedes pointed at the screen, tapping at the image of the warrior that deflected the blaster fire with a lightsaber. The guards, insignificants that maintained the mundane top level were being massacred. From inside his helmet, Aveedes could feel his skin press against the inside as he grinned. Finally.

"Lieutenant. We need to rethink this. These are not simple raiders."

"Agreed, Sir. Speculation, war droids, all well equipped and relatively uniform, and a lightsaber. They're here to rescue a prisoner likely."

"Rescue, revenge, extraction. One of those are likely. We can deny all of it to them and still weather this. Blow level one, send a message. Let them stew over it."

"Roger that, for the Empress."

"For the Empress."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The sergeant's head rolled away from his body as Lilaena whirled her lightsaber in an arc, ending the flourish by burying it to the hilt in the chest of the other trooper. The hangar became quiet as the defenders were silenced, and she turned her attention toward the turbolift as some of her Acolytes mapped the rest of the ground floor, destroying without mercy whatever resistance they uncovered.

There was none. For an Imperial facility it seemed to rely a bit too much on it's secrecy to keep it safe. The wind howled across the ragged opening in the doors, and the basilisk droids paced to and fro while Lilaena studied the door. She stared at it intently, delving into it's electronic structures with the Force, finding the soft areas that she could manipulate.

The ground shook beneath their feet, and Teroch cursed loudly as ice fell from the high ceiling to smash on the duracrete ground. "Seismic activity below, Manda'lor," he said, and she nodded. The lift shaft went down, not up. The real guardians of this place were below. She made a fist, and the turbolift doors opened, revealing a freight-sized lift that even the war droids could fit inside.

It was the obvious way down, and she disliked using the obvious way. "Look for vents," she ordered, stalking into the 'lift with Buruk by her side.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:36 =====

"Sir, only some of them are heading to the lift. Not enough of them."

"Lieutenant, quit underestimating them. This is a matter of attrition. Lure them in, and whittle them down."

"Roger, Sir."

===== 23:35 =====

"What are those bumbling morons doing!?!?"

The Supervisor hissed, slamming her metal fist against the console, leaving a dent. The overlay of the compound showed that sub level 1 had gone red. No living inhabitants. Hundreds of prisoners under her ward gone. She growled and snarled, grinding her teeth as she stepped to the other console where there the network remained unavailable.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:30 =====

Aang sat astride Kotir on top of the mountain. Laara stood off to the side, on the stump of the comms array they had blown up a half hour previously. The storm was raging around them, but they were three white figures in a swirl of white, and they were waiting.

"Contacts," Laara said. "Coming up from the southeast." A pause. "It's as cold your father's tits out here."

"K'atini," scolded Aang, but he grinned inside his helmet, turning the bes'uliik to face the direction she'd indicated as his HUD confirmed. Four figures laboring up the mountain in the storm, one carrying a large pack, no doubt with supplies to fix the antennae. A strong gust of wind caused the quartet to hunker down for a moment or be blown off the side of the mountain. "Wait for them to get closer."

"Elek."

===== 23:29 =====

After walking into the turbolift and leaving Buruk to keep the doors open, Lilaena had ordered all security holocams destroyed on the ground level. A sealed room was opened (with explosives) to reveal the ventilation system for the lower levels - a system that was designed to be closed with limited access. She opened it like a can of namana slices with her lightsaber, and Jeng peered down it, a light on his helmet illuminating the dual shafts. "Intake and outtake," he said. "I suggest we take both."

"Agreed."

===== 23:25 =====

The turbolift doors opened on sublevel 1, five white armored Mandalorians came out in formation, covering all the angles while the basilisk Buruk conducted a thorough scan from the doorway. The entire level was destroyed, remains of cryopods and their former contents were scattered everywhere, like an immense toddler had grown tired of his toys and torn all the arms and legs from his figures and them stomped on them.</it's></coming></contacts,>

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:21 =====

"Report."

"Sir, five on sub level 1. All visual feeds on the main level have been disabled."

"Five?"

"Scouts. They assume they have the operational time line, having determined no other way in or out for conventional forces."

"They have 21 soldiers. Speculate what they're doing with the other 16. They're not all just sitting on their thumbs and spinning."

"Roger, Sir."

"Sir, team's almost there."

"Sir, we've got movement in the vents."

"Sir-"

"I heard, Lieutenant. Activate the automated defenses and I want that status report on the comm array now."

===== 23:16 =====

The black storm troopers were deathly still in the blizzard all around them. They hunkered low, Sergeant Jhor scanning ahead of them. 20 meters to the comm array, no hostiles detected. Sergeant Jhor knew an ambush when he saw it. His comms had been switched to passive so even though he could hear the LT calling for his update, protocol required them to stay dark at least until contact had been made with the likely enemy element ahead of them. Corporal Ghandiem heaved the heavy blaster around to the front after scanning their right flank. Jhor thought he caught a glimpse of movement and he made two quick hand gestures. He hoped to hope that the hostiles only had two or three up here. He wanted as much of a number advantage as he could walking into the inevitable fire fight. Six on three were his kind of odds.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:15 =====

Fifteen minutes crept by, and the troopers had made little progress up the mountain. In their black armor they could be more easily seen, but the storm still howled and made things difficult. If you didn't know where you were looking or what you were looking at it...

Aang didn't mind waiting. Things on Onderon had often happened quickly, after hours of hunting - or being hunted.

"Are they close enough?" Laara shifted slightly, her hands holding her blaster rifle firmly at the ready. The stormtroopers were beginning to struggle uphill again, there were six that he could pick out now with the help of his HUD identifying likely shapes in the snow.

Two of them moved faster than Aang expected, darting to the side, and another ran around the other way, splitting up and moving to flank the Mandalorians' position. "Now!" said Aang, and Laara started firing, her first bolts steaming through the snow as they tracked closer to the one who was trying to flank on his own.

Aang urged Kotir forward, and the great droid rumbled, mouth opening to reveal a laser cannon that shot at the three troopers who were surging up the middle toward them while his rider targeted the other two with his blaster rifle. Using a jet pack or darts of any kind was not an option in the weather, unless he wanted to get swept off the mountain completely.

===== 23:14 =====

On the mountain the battle had begun for control of the long distance comms, and De'Ville took Aang's message silently, her boots pressing on either side of the ventilation shaft as she slid down it. Sublevel 1 was cleared by the scouts, and they were heading down to 2 after four more and another droid joined them on 1. The thought of the dead prisoners who had been willfully sacrificed was raising her blood pressure, but the Empire had so casually wasted the entire level it could only mean that those who were held there meant barely anything to them. The lift indicated that there were at least 8 sublevels.

It was a long way down.

They were staggering out, in teams of two, and infiltrating them all at once. She slowed herself with the Force, and Jeng soon joined her, his jetpack running quietly until he turned it off and held himself in place with his arms and legs above her head. De'Ville ignited her lightsaber and carved a hole in the wall, jumping out and into Sublevel 8.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:14 =====

Sergeant Jhor dove into the snow as the trooper beside him took a fusillade to the chest, knocking the corpse back down the body. War droids. Great. The other trooper up beside him low crawled up towards their enemy. Jhor fired a steady burst of fire off and the other trooper began to suppress the area from where the contact had come from.

"Just watch for the array."

"Sarge, frak the array."

"Corp-!"

Corporal Ghandiem, the trooper that had taken the left flank by himself had made it to some cover behind some snow covered rocks and his heavy blaster was set. Bright, thick beams of energy scorched the position up ahead.

Jhor cursed, maintaining their steady rate of fire, hoping it was enough to make even the war droid take cover. The other two, if they were still maneuvering up, would need all the help they could get.

===== 23:04 =====

Captain Aveedes turned sharply, cursing under his breath as auto-turrets fired somewhere in the back of the sub level. The room was deathly quiet other than the blaster fire that persisted and then stopped suddenly somewhere back there in the darkness. The Captain made hand gestures to the forty something odd elite Stormtroopers that had been standing around idly waiting for the next phase of the defense plan. That plan had just advanced drastically.

"Sir, we have automatic defenses responding on all levels to a threat that appears to be-"

"Ventilation shafts, roger. Faster than expected.

"But Sir, that first team is on sub level 2."

Aveedes hoisted his rifle from the weapons rack. He turned to the comms specialist.

"Kill the codes. Maintain internal comms only."

The comms specialist beside him nodded, turning to the console, a red flashing banner playing across the screen as he continued past the casual fail safes. The Captain switched channels to broadcast to all internal channels, accepting the possible risk.

"This is Captain Aveedes to all Imperials in Haven, we have been compromised. If you aren't in the green zone, Empress forgive us."

===== 23:03 =====

Supervisor Llawl was deathly quiet, her heavy blaster held in front of her, waiting for whatever had just crawled out of the ventilation shaft to reveal itself around the corner where she waited. No automated turrets in her office where the invaders had decided to arrive on sub level 7. She relished the opportunity. It had been a long time since her last field operation. She'd had both arms back then, and her husband.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:03 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
Lilaena brushed a gloved hand over the face of the cryopod in front of her, but the glass was fogged from the inside. Black and red tape across the front of the pod proclaimed that the individual inside was a FORCE ADEPT, EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, DO NOT ACCESS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, with the Imperial seal of the Empress Tarkin. The cryopods filled the level in neat rows, all hooked into a main cyrogenic system through pipes and tubes on the ceiling, but monitored and maintained with their own control panels. The pods in front of her were modern, but further away she could see ones that seemed to use older tech.

Closer inspection revealed similar warning labels, but the seals were different. Some were the seal of Emperor Palpatine, but a few were the mark of his Executor Darth Vader, and they were older than the base itself, which could only have been here for twelve or so cycles. What could have caused them to lock these ones up, rather than simply kill them? A strange feeling in the pit of her stomach made her feel almost unbalanced. Were there Jedi in here, from the rise of the Empire? Order 66?

Or something else entirely?

"We thaw them all," she said to Jeng. "We need to find the main controls." He nodded, silent inside his helmet as he jogged down the rows of pods.

===== 23:02 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
Choruk and Obed found the room they'd dropped into was empty. It seemed to be some sort of sitting area, attached to another room by an archway. Obed approached the doorway, blaster at the ready, taking the high position while Choruk went low. They burst into the large office, and found it empty except for an imposing desk and a cryopod in the corner.

No wait -

"Movement!" yelled Obed, stitching the big wooden desk with blaster fire and activating his jetpack so he flew in the air toward it. Choruk's HUD screamed at him silently as a figure returned fire toward Obed, and dove to the right, finding cover behind an armchair and then scrambling to flank the enemy while Obed drew it's fire.

SUB LEVEL 6
Granoi and her partner were pinned down in the kitchens, and the old Mandalorian warrior grinned while she improvised an explosive from some of the old cooking oil she'd found. Tiktik, a younger woman, pulled down a large cabinet full of cans and used the power from her jetpack to help shove it against the doorway while cans rolled out all over the duracrete floors.

SUB-LEVEL 5
"They're retreating," said Teroch, ducking behind a cryopod in the huge storage area. "Are we that scary?"

"You are," replied Ciryc. "It's why you have no wife." He stood up, using the big control panel as cover while the dark armored stormtroopers seemed content to keep them pinned down. He put his hand on the controls and clicked over to their main comm channel. "Ready, Manda'lor."


SUB LEVEL 3
Buruk bounded out of the turbolift, landing directly on top of a hapless stormtrooper, crushing the man inside his armor with it's great weight. The droid's tail whipped out, blades spinning along it's length like a chainsaw, cutting down another trooper before any of the other Mando'ade made it out of the lift. Two had remained on sub level 2, hands on the control panels, while seven of them poured into sub level 3 and spread out, killing anything that stood in their way.

===== 23:01 =====

SUB LEVEL 4
"We've located the control panel. The level is empty except for pods."

SUB LEVEL 8
"Deactivate the pods on your levels," said Lilaena. "I have overridden the security controls for the system." A series of affirmations came over the comm from those who weren't too busy, and she pressed the final buttons. The low hum that had been invading their consciousness since they'd arrived in the lower levels whirred down into nothing. The silence was deafening.

All around her, the cyropods began to light up from within.


===== 23:00 =====

The emergency lights on sub levels 2 through 5 flashed yellow, orange, and then red. Ciryc looked up from the control panel on sub level 5 as the pods were warming and lighting up, and frowned. Teroch shouted over the comm, "SHIELDS!" and dove for him, his personal shield flashing on in a sparkle of blue energy and enveloping them both.

On sub level 3 the Mando'ade around Buruk crouched under the big droid as the far edges of the level blew first. They didn't all have shielding, but this close together there was some overlap. For those souls in the cryopods... there was no helping them anymore.

De'Ville screamed incoherently, rage filling her as she felt their deaths through the Force.


===== 23:00 =====

Aang got a good bead on the leader, or who he imagined was the leader, but in the storm blaster bolts seemed to be less than effective. Perhaps the driving snow was soaking up the energy of the bolts before they reached their targets. He dismounted from Kotir, running toward the Stormtroopers with his large blade in hand, and Laara followed his lead, heading in a zig-zag pattern to the single trooper who was still behind cover to the left.

The mountain shook under their feet as they charged.

[Ondraeya]

Coruscant, 4 ABY

Violet eyes fixed on the black robed figure seated behind the raised, ororo wood barrier, glaring down at her as did all others in the large chamber. It's stark grey walls and large Imperial banners hanging behind the judge and jury of this farce of a trial, all typical the government now ruling most of the known galaxy. "You understand that using the Force after the Jedi were all found guilty of treason against the emperor, is illegal," Inquisitor Tremayne stated, his steel-grey eye glared at her, his other covered by a metal plate in the shape of the empty eye socket. "Your cultic practices are all deemed by the Imperial government as heresy and are worthy of death. Does the condemned have any last words before sentence is given?"

So, now given a chance to speak after she's already gone from guilty to convicted. Interesting. "No words that would make any difference in your eyes beyond the fact that there's no such thing as justice under this ruling body. I also find it interesting that you convict me on the very thing that you used to find me," Ondraeya smiled. "Don't you?"

Straightening, Tremayne glanced between the other officials from COMPNOR gathered here, then back to the dark jedi. "I see that there's no redeeming qualities within you, so I'm compelled to commence with the ending of this trial. You, Ondraeya Li are hereby convicted of using illegal magicks to murder four Imperial officers and troopers. You then shall henceforth be remanded to custody of the Dungeoneers to carry out your execution." Slamming the gavel down on the unseen wooden block, the Inquisitor motioned for the large, armored guards to escort their prisoner from the chamber. As they walked, she followed the first dungeoneer into a back hallway, then felt the sting into her neck as the door closed, now out of sight of any witnesses. Soon, as she attempted to twist and defend herself, the world around her went black.....

===== 22:57 =====

A morass of dreams and blackness soon washed away as the short slumber that the Hapan enjoyed awoke the brunette with a start. Violet eyes opened, but her vision was foggy to say the least and complimented her strange, almost nauseated feeling. Leaning over, her muscles atrophied after the time in the pod, Ondraeya expelled all the building fluid in her body until her whole torso hurt. Splashing into the bottom of the metal container, being upright into a forty-five degree angle, she lay her head upon the cool metal siding and gathered her breath. Welcome to hell, she mused.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:59 =====

Sergeant Jhor caught sight of the charging opponent, marking him in the joint tactical HUD as he took a knee, continuing to fire. The trooper to his side reloaded a power pack and cycled through another round of sustained fire. Jhor holstered the rifle and drew his field blade as the charge came upon him, gripping the handle activated the power field and extended the blade to triple its initial length. He braced himself as the warrior swung his large blade downward.

Corporal Ghandiem cursed, quickly reloading his heavy blaster as the warrior approached him. Not soon enough was he aiming back down at the enemy position. It was not about aiming for the warriors themselves, but a steady Z-pattern, back and forth. With the rate of fire of the heavy blaster, it made up for the fire power of three troopers.

The two troopers on the right finally saw their opportunity on their flank and began to open fire at the large war droid in hopes that they might remove that advantage.

===== 22:59 =====

The rumbling meant only so many things and the holographic overlay that flitted in and out of existence suddenly became red from the top to two thirds down. From the darkness came a shriek of fury and Supervisor Llawl flew at the oncoming Mandolorian. She fired her blaster at the other warrior trying to flank her as a snap hiss filled the room and the red glow of her lightsaber met her oncoming attacker. Her cold fury, the loss of her life's work in the flash of stupidity by one overly loyal dog! These barbarians were just the thing she needed at this very moment to vent her immediate frustration.

===== 22:57 =====

The cryopod that Captain Aveedes took cover behind came to life, as did so many of the others. A bare few did not, those that either had faulty lights, lines, or unknowingly dead occupants. He risked not saying a word as he listened to something, a woman maybe, scream. A scream that felt like it reached into Aveedes very heart and gripped it, squeezing it. That sensation, that fear, it galvanized Aveedes, assuring him that what he had done had been right from the start.

"All forces on levels 6 through 8. Mass on the intruders, overwhelm them and re-secure the consoles. Cryopods are dethawing. Occupants will be initially weak. If any wake, kill any that attempt to escape their pods. Re-initiate thaw process if able once consoles are secure."

Aveedes had maybe 60 plus troopers on the entire sub level 8. There were over 200 pods and maybe 80% of those were currently dethawing. He was not entirely sure how long dethawing would take or what condition the occupants would be in, but he knew enough on the classified files of some of the prisoners to know that 60 plus troopers would not be enough. The lieutenants on sub levels 6 and 7 acknowledged. Sub level 6 had maybe 30 troopers total and sub level 7 had another 30. The Captain just hoped that the war droids were out of commission.

[Sherobah Angau]

SUB LEVEL 8

===== 22:56 =====

Chilled air rose from one of the crypod's broken seals like smoke as warmth crept into the uterine darkness.

A black oath, half-spoken, still burned on the tip of the occupant's tongue but the frozen air cut through the words and her thoughts. With an effort, she blinked, breaking the crystalline bonds of the frost that clung to her eyelashes. The melting ice ran down her cheeks and over blue lips as she gasped for breath, her first conscious breath in decades raking down her throat and twisting in her lungs.

Her body betrayed her. Limbs folding beneath her, she collapsed to her knees and avoided striking her head against the rising shell of the cryopod only thanks to some dim, transitory spark of recollection in her muscle memory. Though long-dormant and dulled, indistinct and reflex roused, beasts startled from their slumber.

She groped blindly at the opening of the pod, trembling fingers struggling to find purchase on the slick metal. All the while, her mind fumbled for something too. Familiar yet far away. The Force.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:55 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
She stalked down the rows of pods, not too far from the control console where Jeng waited, anger building inside her even as her Mandalorians checked in. Four dead. Re'or, Feran, Grante, and Pan. Fearless warriors; her people. "Vod!" she called through the comms, "Converge on the remaining yamika, protect the yustarud." Affirmations filled her ears, and she stopped in front of a thawing pod, waiting for it to open.

The cryostasis pod beside it remained dark, the occupant dead. Lilaena leaned closer to the living one, and then black armored stormtroopers rounded the row, opening fire without discrimination. She ducked behind the pod and a heavy blaster took out it's regulator. If the cryopod was not opened in time, the occupant would suffocate. There were hundreds of pods, and as she stretched her senses she could feel the stormtroopers closing in, dozens of enemies, and only she and Jeng here to fight them.

She'd faced worse odds. De'Ville's lips peeled back in a feral grin, snarling as she rolled out from behind the pod, her lightsaber igniting and deflecting the blaster fire back into the troopers as she charged straight toward them.


===== 22:53 =====

SUB LEVEL 3
Buruk was damaged, but not critically, the combined strength of the verda shields had protected the great droid. Vail, a female warrior in her thirties, had not been so fortunate, suffering burns on her right arm and side, and Re'or had been crushed by falling duracrete near the control console. The cryopods were a complete loss.

Hel left Vail with Buruk, helping the verde onto the basilisk's back. She clicked her tongue at the others. "You heard Manda'lor. We go below." She had four warriors with her, and they would descend to 4, picking up Kabur, then 5 to gather Teroch and Ciryc. But first...

The turbolift opened, and Jariler looked out at the singed Mando'ade, it's big metal head swinging from side to side as it scanned the exterior. Hel smiled inside her helmet, leaping astride her basilisk droid and fitting her boots into the stirrups. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!"* she shouted.

"Oya!" came the reply, resounding inside the 'lift as they entered.

===== 23:52 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
The lightsaber had come from nowhere. Obed had managed to get his iron gauntlet up to intercept the red blade, the only piece of so-called Mandalorian iron that he had in his armor. They had not been able to create more in all the generations they had lived on Onderon, but reforging it had been done, over and over. The war droids compromised the majority of their remaining stock, but nearly every warrior who owned an entire suit of armor had at least one gauntlet of the stuff as a point of pride.

And, Obed considered as his blaster fire went wild and he tumbled to the ground in a roll behind the desk, apparently it was saving his life. Choruk was scrambling around, distracting the jetii by shooting at her even if the shots were imprecise. The woman had enough skill that she was able to deflect the bolts, which would get dicey fast in this small space.

Obed dropped his blaster rifle, pulling his smaller weapon and clicking the firing controls over to stun. Manda'lor had told them that lightsabers could not block the wider spread energy of the stun blast, but also stun would not necessarily work as well on Force users. He shot the woman from close range as she was half turned toward Choruk.


*Today is a good day for someone else to die!

[Ondraeya]

===== 22:53 =====

As she tried her best to gather herself, the dark jedi knew one thing as her ringing ears ebbed and the sounds from outside came into focus, there was a fight going on just outside her containment and she could feel the pulses from the Force. A charge that prompted the Hapan to pull herself together. Ignoring the stench now rising from the bottom of the pod, she stretched and tried her best to gain some strength back into her body, even though she couldn't see the Force would be her eyes for now. Taking in a deep breath, Ondraeya delved deeply into the universe, gathering what was available into her starving body.

"Think this one's alive," the muted voice stated, it's helmet now trying to see through the frosted window. Backing, the trooper raised his rifle.

Feeling the danger, the Force now flowing through it's supplicant was drawn up into her arms, then down to her hands as she raised them, palms toward the trooper and door between. Drawing in all that she could muster, the explosion of energy blew the door upward, just enough to catch the trooper in the arms and chin, knocking him to his back. Hitting the floor with a muted exhalation of pain, violet eyes glanced right and left. Even though her vision was clouded, the Force picked out auras and discerned between Force users and those who weren't. The brighter signatures would be ignored for now as she then began focusing on the rest. Drawing the rifle up to her hands, she aimed at a trooper to the far left, taking aim at one of the Force users, then fired. Hitting him in the chest, Ondraeya also began feeling the drain on her body and mind as the sudden exertion was taking more out of her than she was ready for, but survival had kicked in also. Falling out of the pod, she rolled across the floor to the feet of the first target of her rage, then raised the rifle once more toward another attacker now moving toward her, weapon up. The Force revealing his anger and surprise, she fired twice and hit him square in the torso. Falling back from her, she collapsed on the floor, dropping the rifle as she now had to take a break.

[Prisoner Zero]

He woke without knowing, and crumpled against the glass. His first breath, a newborn gasp that trickled over parched lips like ice water, it sounded like someone else, so far away. The walls of his hellish tomb screeched and wailed as he flailed about inside of it, willing to life, one by one, each of his stiff and leaden limbs. Until, at last, with a serpent’s hiss, his prison opened and spilled him out into the world, cold and wet.

Light scorched his eyes like red-hot steel. He moved, squelching and slithering away from the pod, as fast as he could before the dull swelling ache in his legs met the sharp blinding pain in his head, and blossomed in terrible union. Grunting, panting, he dared another peek, this time a sliver of coldest blue light. A night sky, perhaps. Onward, he pushed. His skin burned from the cold.

He opened his eyes again. The blue light took shape, and wrapped itself around the pale shadow of another frozen wretch. It took the last of his strength to right himself against the unopened pod, and there he sat, waiting for feeling to bleed back into his legs. A glance left and right, at the ranks of eerily silent cryostasis chambers, told him everything he needed to know: he was still far from safe.

Opposite, his prison, his frozen tomb, it was weathered with age and battle, with blackened metal, and scars that ran in great trenches down the glass. There was a small computer panel on one side, but its screen was cracked and dark. The only other feature of note was the large lettering written in red paint across the glass.

Fighting against the ache of unused muscles and the weight of his soaking clothes, he stood and approached his empty pod. His hand reached out, and removed the thick coat of condensation so the words became clear: Prisoner 0.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:53 =====
AT THE COMM ARRAY

Sergeant Jhor sighed as the Mandolorian's blade slipped through his chest. The cold seemed to seep through the wound. The numbness was overcoming him much quicker than he anticipated.

Corporal Ghandiem cursed, breathing deeply as he watched Jhor get cut down. He leveled the heavy blaster rifle against his shoulder, harnessing that righteous fury any soldier has when their comrade is taken from them in the heat of battle. First the flying one, then the one with the sword.

The other two were in a fierce fire fight with the droid. Trying to flank from two sides. They had yet to notice their sergeant was down, their focus set sincerely against the monstrous droid as it thrashed about, firing volley after volley at either of them.

===== 22:51 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

"Pull back. Pull back!"

Captain Aveedes tried for the third time to get the men to make some distance. That adept was in the thick of it. He had lost too many too quickly to her lightsaber. And he had men reporting all over of awakening prisoners. With these losses, and those prisoners, specifically on this floor, they would be quickly outmatched. He grabbed the shoulder of one of the sergeants, getting his attention.

"Grenades."

===== 22:51 =====
SUB LEVEL 7

Supervisor Llawl staggered as the stun blast hit her full on.

Peace is a lie...

She snarled, advancing on the Mandolorian that had deflected her lightsaber with his arm. They weren't supposed to be able to do that. Her other arm, hoisting the blaster, firing in the direction of the other warrior without even looking. She brought her red saber down with the strength of her prosthetic arm behind it.

There is only passion.

===== 22:49 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

The trooper had heard the crash of glass only a moment before. Something had broken out of one of the pods. The trooper was positioned closer to the front, guarding the turbolift in case the warriors came from that way. Then there had been another crash. Another pod. He had never liked sub level 8. He swore he heard whispers when he came down here. He rounded an empty, broken pod. Across the way, the trooper felt like he had stumbled across a scene, like finding a feral predator crouched over its prey. There was a red glow cast over the body on the ground. The man standing there, dripping wet from recently awakening was shuddering with each breath. The man's heel was on the throat of the body beneath him.

The trooper moved into the open, rifle raised and sighted on the back of the man. No warning needed, the trooper's finger slipped over the trigger. He would have pulled the trigger but another figure stepped out from the side of the trooper's vision. His blaster was out of his hand and large hands were around his throat. A swift jerking motion set the world sideways and the trooper lived no more.

A third figure stepped out of the shadows, holding his own blaster and with a belt of grenades over his shoulder.

"Lord Inquisitor Helghast."

The first one, the one standing over the body, stepped forward violently, crushing the neck of the woman beneath his bare heel. Y'roth Helghast turned to face Agents Y'lor Jerrard and Bren'lar Scothis, both imprisoned with Helghast an undetermined time ago. The how, why, and other details of that remained unclear. What was clear now was simple. His eyes, one glowing red, regarded them.

"Agents... They kept us prisoner with terrorists, traitors, monsters. And we are..."

Helghast stepped over the dead storm trooper.

"We are loyal to the Empire."

A man lay collapsed in a tube, lifting his hand weakly, pleading to the three of them on the outside. Helghast's right arm shattered through the glass, shearing strips of artificial skin from his arm. The man's face was palmed by his right hand. Weak hands slid around his wrist in futile effort to stop what came next. Another second and the man's head was bashed against the interior of the pod, fracturing the glass further. The situation and its appropriate solution was simple enough.

"Kill everyone."

"Veritas Vincit. Lord Inquisitor."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:48 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
De'Ville was the eye of the storm as she cut her way through another squad of stormtroopers, her Vapaad style breathlessly kinetic as she moved without pause, erratic, but with intense purpose. A helmet rolled to the ground, bouncing against a pod as it opened, the occupant falling out. She blocked blaster bolts to protect the defrosted prisoner, turning one bolt around and sending it sizzling into the chestplate of a trooper.

Reaching out with the Force she picked up the headless body of another and hurled it into a pair of stormtroopers, sending them flying backward to crash against other cryopods.

"Try to look friendly!" she called through the comm to Jeng, who had climbed onto a defunct pod and was taking potshots at stormtroopers with his blaster rifle.

He cursed in Mandoa. "Some of these pod people are already fighting back." He landed another headshot on a trooper, keeping one of the prisoners from getting shot. "Wait..."

De'Ville did not wait, racing to the next trooper and removing his arm as she spun around and sliced deep into his squadmate's plasteel chestplate with the continuation. A grenade was lobbed at her, and she snatched at it with the Force, pinning it to the ceiling above another group of stormtroopers. Duracrete fell heavily after it exploded.

Jeng's voice continued in her helmet. "I see some of the prisoners. They... they are killing others in their pods."

"Where," she asked, and he told her. De'Ville scowled, and began running toward their position. Perhaps they could be reasoned with, as their rescue was at hand.

COMM ARRAY
Laara spat blood into the snow, wiping her vibroblade against the bodyglove of the dead stormtrooper who'd wielded the heavy rifle. Kotir was spitting laser cannon fire, keeping the other troopers distracted for the time being. She felt warm, for the first time since they'd landed on this frozen planet, and was content to sit up against the rocks the stormtrooper had been hiding behind, leaning on his body. She took his helmet off, looking at the face of her enemy. He looked surprised.

Aang was creeping around the distracted stormtroopers and grabbed the one they had been helping up the mountain with his big pack. With a heave the Mando'ade tossed the man down the path the way they'd come and held his sword at the ready when the others realized he was there.

===== 22:47 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
Obed had dumped nearly his entire power cell into stun shots, after the woman had taken his arm off and sent the Mandalorian iron gauntlet spinning across the room. She had stumbled behind a cyrostasis pod, and Choruk had tossed him a fresh power cell. "I do not think she is out," he said, checking Obed's stump while the other made sure the jetii remained where she was.

"Go," said Obed, clasping Choruk's forearm with his remaining hand. "Activate the pods. I will make sure she stays here."

Choruk shook his head. "We are sealed in here for now - too many enemies outside this room." After a moment he moved to the computer terminal on the woman's desk. "I have an idea."

Obed pulled himself to his feet, walking closer to the dark corner where the jetii had fallen behind the pod, and Choruk plugged his suit into the terminal. "I can open them from here," he said with satisfaction, "with the right command code." He started a program running, one Manda'lor had written herself, to slice into the mainframe.

===== 22:45 =====

SUB LEVEL 6
Granoi heaved the last of her improvised oil incendiary devices over their barricade, and hit Tiktik on her helmet where she lay next to her, checking her power cells with their backs to the shelving unit. The two warriors did not need to talk to know what the other was thinking, and as the ssssssssh of fire suppression systems flared on and then died away, they prepared to leap over the barrier and take on the gathered stormtroopers. They would either cut through the lines, or take them down with them.

A thunderous roar rattled the walls, and Tiktik said something over the comm that Granoi couldn't hear. She edged her head up sideways, looking backward over the barricade, and thumped Tiktik again. "Our vod have arrived." She climbed over the shelving unit and out of the kitchens, where the stormtroopers who had kept them bottled up were scattered across the tiled flooring of the cafeteria. Jariler raised it's shaggy head, and Hel thumped her chestplate with her fist as Tiktik stood up, warily.

"We have bought some time, but there are more on this level," said Hel from her perch atop the basilisk. "Ciryc is starting the defrosting sequence, we must defend those we can in the main chamber."

[Sejah Haversh]

SUB LEVEL 8
To the best of his knowledge, Sejah Haversh had never owned a waterbed, not had he ever slept on one. So it was with a great deal of confusion that his first senses upon emerging from his slumber were those of being wet. Not just wet, soaked.

Some races might enjoy such sleeping conditions, while others could find them almost necessary, but to a Nehantite who grew up in his nation's desert capitol, and who even avoided swimming pools, the sensation of frigid, icy water soaking him through his clothes and brown fur all the way to the skin was highly unpleasant, to put it mildly. By the time his mind could comprehend more than the twin factors of being cold and wet, Sejah's ears perked at the sound of blaster fire outside of his... sleeping pod? Prison? Spa chamber? Whatever it might be that he was in, blaster fire directly outside was far from a good thing.

Trembling, shivering paws reached up to the glass, and in doing so Sejah found himself feeling uncharacteristically weak, as if instead of gaining energy in slumber it had been drained from his body instead. Weak or not, the sound of blaster fire and explosions drove him on, accessing his deepest reserves of energy in order to stand, brown Jedi robes both clinging to his body and weighing him down simultaneously, and he pressed against the glass. Nothing. No movement. The shiver ran from his arms through his entire body, a violent shudder consuming him which nearly took him to his knees. The Force was a whirlwind around him, unstable and unpredictable, allowing him no sense of what was truly going on.

"Garfife, grant me your strength," he whispered upon frosty breath. Paws firmly placed against the glass, Sejah pushed with everything he could muster, and at the moment he felt as if he had no more give, the hiss and snap of seals and gaskets sounded, balancing the air pressure both inside and out of the pod before the glass swung open and the Nehantite tumbled to the floor beyond. Scrambling to his paws and knees, he looked up only to see a familiar set of white armor appear down the walkway from his pod, bringing a smile to his thoroughly confused face.

He had apparently been captured and the Republic had sent clone troopers to rescue him.

"Oh, Garfie, am I glad to see you!" he called out in his attempt to bring himself to a stand.

[Layla Cimmerian]

Hiss


The pod cracked a hair, just enough for the seal to break and the frigid air to plume outwards. It intermixed with an artificially warmed chamber, creating an at first jet of visible air. The pressure subsided into a gentle plume that began to settle then downward as the warmer heavier air rose above the thinner cooler mixture that escaped the pod. The core temperature within rose rapidly with the containment breach, but the door remained down, waiting for an outside force to bid it open further.


Thump


Her heart rate increased slowly from the near death crawl it had been suspended in before. Before she even opened her eyes, she could feel it in her breast, in her neck, her temples and behind her eyes. Her limbs tingled with the resistance of restricted circulation, her body shuddering in it’s recline within the chamber as her nervous system fought to wake itself. Her breathing spiked with her heart rate and her mind willed her limbs to move, starting with the simple desire to open and close her hands.


One simple motion translated across all her body, which awoke to catch up with the desires of the mind, albeit she felt stiff with every movement. Her right hand reached up to push against the metal door, which offered no resistance to the pressure she applied. Her body careened forward out of the tube rather suddenly as her mind was stolen from the action.


Two black clad figures walked with a matched stride down the row of cryo pods, so perfectly in unison one would swear they were controlled by one mind. Behind them a pair of storm troopers pushed a repulsor powered stretcher, which hovered three feet above the ground with a constant thrum. The ebony figure on the left prepared the cryo chamber, inputting the necessary body height and weight details to ensure she would survive in her cryo sleep. The other moved over her, lifting one eyelid open. Her pupil remained dilated, in spite of the harsh artificial light that shone down directly over it. “Sweet dreams, Inquisitor Neferis.” He whispered in a deep modulated baritone voice.


Her mind reeled back to the present, both hands pressed to the grated floor beneath her. Soaked hair hung down on either side of her face, dripping through the metal slats that her fingers curled into. She hadn’t been prepared for that uncontrolled trip down memory lane through her psychometry, moments she shouldn’t have ever known above because of her lack of consciousness.


Layla’s right knee dragged forward first, pulling the balls of her foot beneath her. She pressed down with her hands and arched her back in a feline manner while her other foot dug into the grating beneath her. Both knees bent inward as she unstably straightened her form to stand, then staggered a foot backwards as a sensation of vertigo swept over her and briefly blackened her visage. A final breath was drawn in, forcing composure. She turned back to her cryo pod, pulling the door closed and resting her palms against the surface. She knew what she needed to regain her strength.


Layla’s form was slipped off the stretcher, stripped of all rank and insignia and left only to black compression shorts and a tank top of the same material that bared her midriff. The storm troopers that guided her in unceremoniously dropped her back into the recline of the pod. Inquisitor Varesh, the lithe female manning the control panel stepped in front of the pod, sweeping her hand across the glass aperture. “I wonder if she will be coherent. I hope so.” She spoke in a lilting tone, staring through at the tattooed face of the former Kiffar Inquisitor.


Anger boiled her blood, warming her deeper than any artificial heat source could. The pressure in the air surrounding her intensified, both hands pressing more heavily into her cryo chamber. She cried out, a cry that crew in pitch and intensity. The glass of her cryo pod exploded inward and away from her, and the glass of those surrounding her exploded outward. Her fury drew a pair of Stormtroopers down her row of cryo chambers, leveling their blasters her direction.


“Don’t move.”


She turned a burning stare their direction, her tawny eyes laced with an even deeper shade of gold. A body stirred and groaned within one of the nearest cryo chambers to the Stormtroopers, causing them to turn distractedly and aim at it. In that time, the shards of glass lining the walkway lifted and gathered together in the air. They swirled a moment before their velocity increased and they assailed the two Troopers. Cries and blaster bolts were the last contributions they would make to the galaxy.

[Tank]

Fifteen years ago

Good Soldiers Follow Orders

The aberrant thought had thumped inside Tank's head, out of kilter with himself the way one might feel their heart flutter by the changing tune of the blood in their own ears. He'd learned to live with this monster. He knew when to draw the slack out of the chain. When to slam the door shut. The thing is, as vigilant as Tank was, the monster was just as patient. Even on good days, he could hear it in the unspoken gaps between conversations. He could see it like a shadow in the corner of his eye. It couldn't be destroyed conventionally. It couldn't be besieged. It wouldn't weaken from lack of food, water, or sensory input.

The monster did not go away. For the rest of his artifically-shortened life, Tank realized that the only thing that kept him from being a murderer was to maintain vigil. Always at his post, standing on the watchtower of his mind.

"CT-5542, can you hear me?"

The sedatives were wearing off. The moment Tank had a fleeting notion of situational awareness, he lunged. The snap of stun cuffs against his wrists served to fully banish the fog of drugs from his system, and to confirm that he was no less a prisoner now than he'd been since the Imperial ambush on Oord Trasi. With a pained groan, Tank relented, laying back fully against the gurney he was chained to. The blur in his vision reduced, coalescing on the grim face of an Utapauan man.

"I can hear you...Inquisitor."

The monster stirred in it's cage, it's blood focus sharpening Tank's eyes on his enemy. Clone Protocol 66. To protect the Republic, the Jedi insurrection must be stopped at all cost. Lethal force authorized.

The Inquisitor could see the change in CT-5542's expression, the smallest of bemused smiles crossing his dour face.

"Good."

He could feel the clone's anger. The technology responsible for the clones' proliferation in the Grand Army of the Republic hadn't denied them the capability of that feeling. It certainly felt real enough through the force.

"You will be pleased to know that your scheduled termination has been postponed indefinitely. The ISB has expressed some interest in seeing what makes you tick, or rather what made you *not* tick."

The Inquisitor's words might as well have been in Geonosian. Tank stared unblinking into the Utapauan's eyes. A man who had once been a Jedi. If ever the monster in his mind was right about anything, it was right about him. General Windu and Commander s'Ilancy were left to die like dogs, and no one would ever convince Tank they had ever betrayed the Republic.

But some Jedi most certainly did.

"You want to kill me, don't you?"

The Inquisitor's words finally achieved recognition. Tank replied in a gravelly tone, "Good soldiers follow orders, don't they?"

"They certainly do, CT-5542. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Tank's hands balled into fists as he again tested the limits of his stun cuffs. He beat his head against the back of the gurney, rattling the entire apparatus until he screamed through clenched teeth. The Inquisitor's little smile grew a measure.

"Good, good. Focus on that feeling. With luck, we'll figure out exactly where you went wrong."

"I didn't go wrong! I didn't betray the Republic, you did! You, the rest of the Inquisitors...all of you!"

The raw skin at his wrists and ankles was beginning to open again, but Tank couldn't have cared less. He couldn't care that he had no tactical options here. He couldn't care whether he lived or died, but he did care about his duty. He'd abandoned the grotesque horror known as the Galactic Empire before the bodies of murdered Jedi had grown cold, but he'd never turned his back on the oaths he'd taken to the Republic it had usurped.

"I gave an oath to defend against enemies outside and within. That oath is stronger than conditioning, stronger than some brain chip, stronger than someone expecting to pull a string and see if I'll dance. I'm a clone, not some droid. Me and my brothers? We gave that oath because in war, things go wrong. They break, fall apart, go to shit. None of that rates higher than a man's spirit. You conned a lot of good men into dancing to your little song, Inquisitor..."

Tank punctuated his vitriol by spitting in the Inquisitor's face. For his part, the Utapauan simply retreated a half step and calmly cleaned the expectorate.

"...you won't get me."

The Inquisitor sighed silently, glancing to his right. It was only then that Tank saw the object at his periphery. He knew well enough what it was.

A cryo freeze capsule.

"We'll see about that, CT-5542. Whatever you think of the Empire, you'll find that we are patient about getting what we want."

The restraints released at once, and Tank leapt from the gurney, but not before being man-handled by four stormtroopers. He struggled, screamed, and gave every ounce of resistance he could offer before being unceremoniously deposited into the coffin-like tube. The door slammed over him before he could kick it away, a hiss of a hermetic seal tickling his ears like a laughing devil.

On the outside, the Inquisitor watched as CT-5542 pounded with both fists against the viewport. The impacts registered no sound, nor did the clone's screamed protests, which were also swallowed whole by the chamber.

"Begin the freezing process."

A cold unlike anything Tank had ever experienced suddenly penetrated him throughout. It sucked the breath out of his lungs, which turned to a sheet of latticed frost against the window pane. The thump of his heart in his ears grew lethargic as a dull pain ran up his spine.

"Good...soldiers....follow..."

[Tank]

===== 22:42 =====

SUB LEVEL 7

"...orders."

Tank blinked, feeling the alien sensation of frost dislodging from his moving eyelids. Then came the pain.

"Agh."

Deep. Dull. It ran up and down his back, the ache eventually coursing down into his feet. He'd forgotten how much the cold hurt. It was a perpetual history lesson. He'd been lucky to survive his LAAT getting shot down over Ryloth. Luckier still that the chunks of shrapnel that lodged dangerously close to his spine didn't lodge a little closer and paralyze him. They were too close to the spinal cord to allow safe surgical removal, but the battalion sawbones told him that they wouldn't do him any more harm where they were than they already had.

Doc didn't happen to mention anything about the cold though. He found out about that little side effect on deployment to Mygeeto. The cold ran right through him and angered every connected nerve ending up and down. He needed two syrettes of painkiller a day to get back to fighting shape. A small miracle he never became an addict to the stuff.

But as the thaw began to subside, Tank shuddered as the feeling hit him in full force once more. The door of his pod peeled open with a whine of servos. It scarcely finished parting before Tank fell to his hands and knees, vomiting up the scant watery content of his empty stomach.

"Get it together, soldier. Hold the line."

Awareness quickly returned, and Tank rolled up to his feet. His eyes pivoted left and right, searching for any sign of the Inquisitor and his ISB stooges. A piercing din of an unseen blaster bolt pocking against durasteel immediately registered, and the clone trooper responded as he was trained to do - diving and rolling behind the nearest adjacent cover to allow for time to assess the tactical situation. Tank ground his teeth as the last vestiges of his cold-sensitive pain gave a final excruciating rebuke. Only then did he notice that the cover he'd chosen to occupy was another cryo tube.

He looked left. More tubes.

He looked right. Still more.

More in front of him. More behind. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Tank took stock of just how many of them there were.

"What the hell?"

[Sherobah Angau]

===== 22:53 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

A flurry of blaster bolts sizzled by, too close for comfort. On unsteady legs, she recoiled into the shadow of the cryopod, the bulk of metal between her and the source of the salvo. All around, shouts and cries echoed through the hall. Fear, anger, pain... Powerful primal emotions, resonating in the Force. A tattoo of bright green blaster-fire punched into the 'pod opposite her own. The occupant was awake, at first thumping fists against the transparisteel and then, his knuckles bruised, slapping his palms in a desperate cry for help. The mechanism that should have opened his 'pod was damaged, fitful sparks spraying from its innards.

His wide eyes met Sherobah's as she crouched out of view of the gun-fight and he yelled, his words swallowed by the riot of sound around them. She read his lips. Please, he was saying. Over and over again. Please. Emotion roiled on his face like an ocean mid-storm, anguish washing into fury and back again. Hating her then needing her, then hating her because he needed her and she was just watching him suffer. Feeling him suffer.

For a moment, the blaster-fire was distant, the focus of the fight moving on to another cluster of 'pods. She could hear snatches of sound from the trapped man now.

“For Palpatine's sake, please! Help me! You've got to-” he went on and on, but she wasn't listening anymore.

For Palpatine's sake, she would do nothing.

Stretching into the Force for the first time in years, Sherobah cast her mind out into the chaos. There had to be a path out of … wherever she was. The spoked wheel of the Galactic Empire decorating the outer shells of the 'pods was the only thing she recognised, the only thing that made sense. Whatever conflict was at play, the battle-lines were too muddy to know which side to join. Who had released her? More importantly, who had imprisoned her? Questions that would be answered, in time.

“You bitch! You heartless bitch! Don't leave me! PLEASE!”

The words and endless drum of fists beating chased Sherobah as she darted down the corridor formed by two rows of crypods, letting the Force guide her steps.

[Prisoner Zero]

===== 22:52 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

With every step, his boots squelched with the same thick vulgarity as if he were climbing a mountain of bantha shit. It made for a rather conspicuous approach, or, at least, would have were it not for the encroaching chorus of blaster fire. Some barked, throaty and low, like the barritone Monks of the Forgotten Verse, while others wailed into the dark like the burning witches of Blue Mountain; children's tales, both of them, but so vivid in his mind he could almost hear them singing and screaming over the battle. And, towards the battle, he walked. In his footsteps, there was no haste, nor was there the tenuous pace of the cautious man; he was simply curious, and knew at once that it was no way for a man to behave when wading into violence. Strange and unnatural. Perhaps he was a soldier.

On his way, he happened upon some dead ones, both sprawled pale and glistening upon the ground, like a couple of bloated fish that had been long washed ashore. They reached out, in their lifelessness, as if to embrace each other in death. That could have been him, and he would've known no better. Fate had been kind, in its way. He was Prisoner Zero, he reminded himself, and with every passing chamber he felt the hammer fall onto the nails of the coffins of nameless ancestors. Whoever they were. There was solace in his ignorance.

Ahead, he saw a trail of freshly-wet footprints, shimmering into the gloom. It was intention to follow them, but he was stopped short by the sudden violent thrashings of a man trapped inside his pod. His voice bled through the cracked transparisteel, and all of his angry desperation with it. Prisoner Zero considered the man, and the sparks spitting from the top of his own malfunctioning prison. And, from his string of colourful curses, he plucked one irrepressible note:

"-the bitch... I'll kill her! I'll kill her!"

Fury had him in a fever, and while he was demented, and clearly dangerous, the source of his ire was elsewhere. That made him an asset. A blaster bolt had made a smoking mess of the computer console beside the chamber, but the manual release was still intact. So, while shots rang out, and brought with them cries, and the thudding of boots, Prisoner Zero wrenched the red lever, and the pod yawned open with a final shower of sparks. Sure enough, the prisoner, now unleashed, bounded out and advanced at speed into the fray. There was, after all, strength in numbers.

[Llamendo dal Iesin]

===== 22:48 =====

SUB LEVEL 8


De'Ville scowled, and began running toward their position. Perhaps they could be reasoned with, as their rescue was at hand.

Sprawling out of a pod and directly into the path of Lilaena De'Ville's relentless sprint, another of the Empire's prisoners collapsed to his hands and knees. His whole body convulsed with a coughing fit as he gasped for breath, for light; as if he hadn't felt the sun in a thousand years. His robes were heavy and damp, like a cloak of mist and ice. A fire-fight flashed against the polished floor beneath him and painted fleeting, freeze-frame reflections of his surroundings, threatening to overload his senses. Trying to blink away the darkness, Llamendo reached for the Force and his lightsaber, but could grasp neither with a foggy mind and frozen fingertips.

“Master? Master!”

[Ondraeya]

===== 22:47 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

Chaos reigned around her as Ondraeya did her best to stretch her limbs, hands and ankles gingerly though the first instinct was to run from here. Wherever here was. Her last memories still fresh in her mind, the convicted dark jedi had no love for these Imperial troopers, nor did she care how many died so that she could escape this prison. Finally able to turn her head, she craned her neck around to see two more soldiers in white be cut down, distant explosions ripping through cryopods, duracrete and flesh alike, the brilliant flashes and concussive wave carrying through the immense room, showering her with bits of stone and metal.

Can't lay here forever.

Sighing, her stomach growling and her head swimming, Ondraeya scanned her immediate surroundings once more to see a lightsaber wielding female's aura cut through several more Imperials, though more intent on several Force users fighting one another than anything else. Perhaps this one was the leader of the rescuers? She would have to find out, though in this state she wasn't going to have much in the way of defending herself if things were totally opposite than she hoped. Pushing herself up she sat and felt the uncomfortable drain of blood from her head, making the world swim even more than it was already. Explosions of bright, pinpricks of light showered her vision as she closed her eyes, lowering her head and supporting it with her left hand. Taking a moment to regain her composure, the Hapan's anger and desperation motivated her to continue to her feet, grabbing the trooper's rifle that she had stripped from his dying grasp, then take stock of the layout of this large lab. So many little battles going on in here, though a concentration of armored figures seemed to be holding the distant turbolift, she noted. No doubt wanting to ensure that all their prisoners didn't escape alive, though as the tide of the battle seemed to be going against them, that prospect was starting to look bleak.

Violet eyes turned back to the female Force user, and she quickly debated whether or not to approach her, or just begin making her way to the turbolift.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:44 =====
SUB LEVEL 7

Supervisor Llawl slumped against the cryotube that held her husband inside. A pity these barbarians had not happened to accidentally release him to. She would have liked to have ensured he was executed in some offhanded fashion for her sole satisfaction.

She felt dizzy, sluggish. She was struggling to remain conscious she knew, having removed her glove, rubbing her organic fingers together. The nerve endings felt dead. Too many stun blasts, and her prosthetic was not responding correctly as well. Llawl knew that both warriors were still alive, unfortunately, and they would not let her rest as needed. She tried to reach for anything for her to emotionally latch onto but there seemed to be a wall, as cold as the pod behind her. Not long now...

===== 22:41 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

Captain Aveedes sighed, holding the trigger device in his hand. He made hand motions and the selected contingent, roughly twenty men altogether, began to silently fall back from their positions towards the turbolift entrance. Still almost another twenty men remained at their positions, firing at anything that moved at this point. Too many men had been lost and the one with the lightsaber had withdrawn in another direction fortunately. Unfortunately, that was away from the traps they had set, rigged grenades slaved to the trigger device that Aveedes now held. One click and hold for the left, two clicks and hold for the right, three for both.

He fell back with the contingent towards the turbolift slowly, getting a quick salute from his Sergeant that remained. Too many force adepts running amok; Aveedes wished he could give the Sergeant and his men a better chance but by now Aveedes had forfeited the idea that the comms array would be re-established. The purge counter was still dialing away but twenty four hours was just too long. No one had anticipated this much chaos, this kind of force, rather some kind of full on assault. Aveedes felt like someone more versed against a force adept should have anticipated this but then again, those same people likely figured this place would never have been discovered to begin with.

The captain tucked away the small whisper of a thought that the location might not have been discovered at all but rather given away and for what purpose, Aveedes made significant effort to repress the notion.

===== 22:39 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

Scothis lowered the scope of the rifle from his eye.

"Mandolorian. Maneuvering from an elevated position some distance away. Too far to engage currently. Maybe a bounty hunter or mercenary hired to assist in the infiltration."

He turned abruptly as another trooper emerged from the shadows. This one had no rifle and approached as if he was going to say something. His intent went unnoticed as Scothis stepped into the trooper, placing the barrel of his rifle against the trooper's neck, between his armored chest and his helmet and then fired. The body fell to the ground in a clattering heap.

Jerrard stood, sliding his recently acquired vibro blade from the torso of a now dead prisoner and pointed ahead of them, catching Helghast's attenton.

"I see it. Lightsaber. Heading this way."

Helghast turned back to it. His augmented vision had caught it at a distance, an approaching light source. It had been nearly non-detectable to the human spectrum at a distance and Helghast had been regarding it for some time with what his gut instinct knew it to be. Now that Jerrard had noticed it as well, he assumed it was nearing his position. Their arsenal of collected weapons meant little against a trained force adept. Only overwhelming firepower, advanced technology and augmentation, and massed effects by highly trained warriors had taken down force adepts so effectively in the past with Project Nightmare. Helghast only had Jerrard and Scothis at his disposal currently. A lightsaber here, amongst all of these prisoners likely meant that it was held by someone significantly responsible for all of this. Helghast doubted that anyone would have been imprisoned with such an implement.

"Split up, stay low, and back. Keep an eye on the Mandolorian. The adept will come for me."

A recently freed prisoner stumbled out of their pod a few steps ahead, disoriented, and mostly unaware. Helghast stepped forward in a rush of movement, taking the prisoner by the throat and slamming the Bothan, most likely another adept, against the ground. The hairy sentient screamed out as Helghast slid the vibro blade into the adept's gut. His red eye cast a light across the gruesome scene and reflected in the watery eyes of the prisoner. Y'roth intently thought of the lightsaber, his systemic disgust for adepts as he watched the pain overwhelm the weakened prisoner, images of the engineered slaughter of force adepts on a galactic scale exuding from him. The Inquisitor knew this kind of mantra-like thought would draw the oncoming adept like a moth to the flame. He twisted the handle of the vibro blade, the prisoner screaming out into the darkness around them.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:39 =====

SUB LEVEL 6
The Mando'ade shouted directions in Basic to the former prisoners who were emerging from their shells. Get to cover. Work together if you want to survive. We are on your side. Granoi and Tiktik blasted open the doors to an armory, but it's not full. Still, a few extra blasters and blaster rifles are better than none, and for every stormtrooper they drop there is more gear for those who can handle it. Hel smiled inside her helmet, riding her war droid to the turbolift that her vod were holding against the attempts of the stormtroopers to retake it.

Jariler barked out a concussion blast, leveling another squad of troopers and buying the Mando'ade precious time to move from defense to offense. Hel rode the 'lift down to the next level, along with Ciryc and Teroch.

===== 22:37 ======

SUB LEVEL 7
As the doors to the turbolift opened, the basilisk droid blocked the entrance and took the brunt of the blaster fire from the gathered stormtroopers as Hel, Teroch, and Ciryc took cover behind it. Jariler boomed another concussion blast from it's muzzle, following up with the heavy blasters in it's shoulders, and then the three Mando'ade followed it out of the lift, but not before Hel directed the lift to return to sub level 6 so they could begin sending people up and out of the compound. "Obed! Choruk!" she called over the comms, taking a knee behind a pod with a dead occupant, and opening fire on another group of black armored stormtroopers. With the Mando'ade all in whitened armor, it was not unlikely that some of the long held prisoners might mistake them for clone troopers.

Choruk answered, "We are in the office area. Safe for now."

"Coming to get you," replied Hel, leaving Teroch and the droid to guard their exit point while she and Ciryc ran down a row of pods. "We are your rescuers," she yelled at one former prisoner who tried to get in their way. "Head to the turbolift!" She pointed back the way she'd come, and kept moving.

===== 22:38 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
De'Ville nearly tripped over a woman in long damp robes, but managed to stop in time as the person reached out with her hand and with the Force. “Master? Master!”Not a woman, a man.

"I am not your master," she said, pausing to help the man to his feet. "I have -" An explosion from the other side of the great room drowned out whatever it was she was saying. I have come to set you free. "Get to safety!" she yelled over the din, stepping between the confused adept and a stormtrooper, deflecting a bolt and sending it sizzling back into the trooper's armor. Stunned, the enemy went down, but he was not out. De'Ville leapt forward, yanked the blaster rifle from the stormtrooper's hands, and thrust it into the blond adept's arms.

A great cry of pain in the Force caused her head to whip around, and she bounded off without another word. No doubt other adepts could feel it as well. Whoever this was, they were asking for a lot of trouble.

Her purple lightsaber ready, Lilaena crept around the last few rows of cryopods as she reached her destination. A human male was bent over the body of a still screaming Bothan, it's blood staining his hands as he twisted the knife while two others watched. She readied herself, wondering if she could talk them down. They were probably confused. Differences could be set aside until all were free from the hell the Empire had kept them in.

Then he looked up, and the light reflected off of his one red eye. Rage boiled up inside of her. Was this... how could... an Inquisitor, here?! His clothing indicated he had been one of those frozen as well. All questions of why flew out of her head as she flung herself at Y'roth Helgast with a righteous fury.

[Layla Cimmerian]

===== 22:41 =====


Sub Level 8


The sound of combat grew more faint, the attention drawn elsewhere as the bulk of the forces on either end maneuvered through the rows of cryo chambers, rescuing or slaughtering those freed from containment. Layla moved with caution, bare feet silently gliding across the grated floor. She stopped over top of one of the Storm Troopers she had killed, the difference in the visage of his helmet from what she recalled noticeable. In the moment she wasn’t sure whether to make much of it, and so chose not to.


Layla stepped lightly over the two corpses, coming to the end of the row. To her right she saw movement, an indiscernible figure that caught sight of her, and immediately took off down another row. She gave it no further thought, following the wall down until she came to a placard. The layout of her current level was mapped out in non descript lines, dividing rooms from rows. No clear emergency exits were noted, save for the one turbo lift. She remembered it, being taken through and brought to her pod, the last thing her waking eyes had seen being the two visages of her former comrades.


Her hands involuntarily tightened into fists, her heart rate accelerating as she fought to quell her rage. Neferis has always been cold, calculating, and she would not let her rage get the better of her now. In the distance, rising above the faint sounds of blaster bolts, she heard an anguished cry. She reached out with her senses, the origin of that cry acting as a vacuum that seemed to draw all those with the Force inwards. Something was culminating, and she contemplated how much she should let herself get involved.


She started to move, rather than linger and ponder her fate for all eternity. Once more she moved as silently as she could until she came upon a fallen body, turned over on it’s stomach with it’s limbs stretched out in all directions. She turned him over, the figure clad in garments she would have attributed to a Jedi. Dead center in his chest was a smoking crate, the fringes of that crater having burnt the edges of his brown robes. Layla slipped one sleeve off his arm, then the other. She followed up by stripping his boots off, too large for her feet but better than nothing. His form was rolled over and off the top of the cloak before she slipped her arms in and drew it over her shoulders.


An explosion in the distance caused the lights overhead to flicker and buzz as the current was disrupted, drawing her focus back to her escape. Her steps were not quite so quiet as she moved onwards, allowing that vacuum to draw her in. She knew at least one side would be present that she would seek to ally herself with, but she needed to be there if she wished to secure her way out.


The heavier steps of her new boots drew attention, which she also heard before she saw. She slipped between a pair of cryo pods, leaning back against the wall as a pair of Storm Troopers emerged into her current row of pods. They looked down her direction, but with a gentle gesture of her hand and a subtle manipulation of the Force she encouraged them to look away. One of the two stepped forward a few paces, and Layla emerged with a hand poised before her.


The plastoid boot heels of the rear Storm Trooper scrapped the decking as he was dragged towards Layla, his weapon dropped. With a sideward sweep of her arm, he was thrust into the pod just before her, and the hydraulic door snapped downward shut to begin the freezing process. The other had spun around and leveled his rifle off by the time the trooper was halfway towards her, but had no clear shot with his comrade in the path. Just when he felt he had the shot, the column of his throat tightened and he found it difficult to breathe, to focus. Panic set in as he clutched one hand then the other at his neck. He went to his knees, before toppling off to the side, squirming in fear and panic.


Layla kept walking, holding that vicelike grip around his throat. A leftward turn and she released, the far end of the row showing a purple lightsaber, reminiscent in color of her own weapon to which she wondered at the fate of. She could not see past Lilaena, but she could discern the woman was no Stormtrooper, which made her an ally for the time being.

[Ryssa Kilvaari]

The dream within

The day was beautiful, on Ossus. The comforting heat from the sun and the cool breeze gently flowing by, keeping the balance within and without. All around her, the younglings played, laughing and joking, while the older Jedi, such as herself, kept watch. Nowadays, there was little to destroy this beautiful peace, nothing to threaten the younglings from their play. There was no Sith, no Republic, no Empire to war with, or against...

Because all of this was little more than a dream...one long and magnificent dream of her own creation... Because the truth was, the Jedi Padawan named, Ryssa Kilvaari was in suspended animation and all that she once knew was long dead. The Ossus she knew and loved were gone, destroyed by Sith Magic that had created a supernova so terrible that much of what she fought for was destroyed and many of the Jedi, young and old, were killed instantly. Ryssa herself barely managed to escape its fury, having stayed behind to ensure some survivors had managed to take shelter deep underground. She had just made it to safety when the supernova scorched the once beautiful world. Burning the atmosphere until it grew toxic. It was this toxic air that burned Ryssa's lungs as the doors deep within the temple sealed them inside. Of the Jedi that survived, none of them had the medical know-how to heal her. Rather than have her die, those she rescued sealed her within a cryogenic stasis unit, freezing her until someone was able to save her from dying. What they had unwittingly done was sign her a one way ticket to the future. Ryssa was aware of being awoken once in her time in stasis, when some kind soul finally took the time to treat her for her injuries. She knew not where she was and didn't stay awake long enough to find out. For once she was treated, that 'kind soul' had returned her to stasis, where she remained ever since, dreaming in this wonderful paradise. While dreaming, she sometimes became aware of being moved from place to place and would reach out in the Force to figure out what was going on. For a long time now...it had been quiet in the outside world...too quiet. Occasionally, she would sense someone near her pod and investigate, but now...now she sensed something terrible was happening.

"Ryssa..." A voice echoed with intent. In this paradise stood someone she hadn't seen for so long...her old Master, Jael Kara's. Just seeing her after so long filled Ryssa with joy and despair at once.

"Master Jael! Ryssa said, almost excitedly. She gave her old master a hug. "I've missed you so...so long."

Jael allowed her former student to embrace her, but only briefly, for there was little time. "Ryssa...my Padawan. Full glad am I that you remember me after so long.."

Ryssa frowned as she looked at her old Master. "How could I forget you? You were like a mother to me..." Ryssa's dark eyes looked around her utopia, fully aware of her situation. "Even in this...this place, I've never forgotten you."

Jael smiled at her Padawan. "I've been trying to contact you for a long time, yet your heart has been closed to me." she said sadly. "You've carried your pain for so long now. Its time you let go."

Ryssa bowed her head sadly. "I've closed off all this time. Lost...alone...broken. Maybe I'm beginning to accept my lot...resigned to be stuck in limbo forever and had the desire for company."

"Whatever your reasons, Padawan, I'm glad we are able to finally speak before your awakening." Jael said, a small smile pulling on her face. "There will not be much time afterward. Especially as what is coming would tax you somewhat."

"Why?" Ryssa asked as the world changed around her, Jael taking control of Ryssa's dreams to show her what was outside her frozen prison. The Padawan noticed the change and frowned in confusion. "What's going on?"

"You are on Hoth now, not Ossus." Jael explained. "Four millennia have passed since you were frozen and outside a battle rages on. All the pods, including your own are being deactivated. You will awaken soon into the firing line...yet, even in the midst of all of this, you will find people that can help you find your way."

Ryssa watched as a stranger wielding a lightsaber deactivated all the chambers. In an instant, Ryssa felt strange. Her wandering soul being pulled back into her body as the thawing process began...

The last words she heard from her old Master were, "May the Force be with you, my Padawan. I will see you when you've awakened..."


::Present day. 22:56 Section 8::

Cold air rushed out to meet the warmth as the doors opened in her cryostasis pod for the first time in an age. The sound of battle echoed in the distance, yet as close as it was, Ryssa could barely hear it. As soon as she opened her eyes, temporarily blinded from lack of use after so long on ice, the Padawan collapsed to the ground as other unused limbs failed to cooperate with her brain's commands to move. She knew not the distance she fell to the floor, but it was enough for her to take in a gasp of air and violently cough to life. Her lungs burned with fury as she tried to breathe for the first time in so long. Once she got the hang of breathing again, Ryssa pulled her fingers to make a fist on her right hand and then her left before laying both flat on the ground so she could push herself up into a sitting position. Her head thumped as her eyes took in light for the first time. Yet, even as her bodily functions returned to normal quite quickly, Ryssa sensed it was not quick enough as battle continued to rage around her. She either had to find a place to hide, or find herself a weapon to defend herself with. Reaching out into the Force, Ryssa sensed a number of people nearby...and one Stormtrooper heading toward her. Deciding to take out this stormtrooper for his weaponry, Ryssa struggled to her feet, her muscles protesting enough to make her grimace slightly in pain as she did so, and hid behind her pod. When the trooper came close enough, she used the Force to knock him down before pulling his blaster to her. Once in her hands, she shot the trooper to ensure her own survival. She then slowly and cautiously explored her surroundings, keeping to the shadows like she'd been taught so long ago. Yet while wearing little more than underwear thanks to millennia in the pod, Ryssa needed to search for clothing to wear before the cold took her.


:::22:45 to 22:40:::


After several minutes of wandering and shooting the odd trooper group, Ryssa found a locker room, filled with garments suitable for the harsh winter storms outside. Pulling out one such set, Ryssa quickly changed (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v625/lostncybr/Anime%20Costumes/Space%20Cruiser%20Yamato/pic3.jpg) to further avoid the cold. As she pulled up the zip of the jacket, however, the Padawan sensed a presence nearby. Grabbing her blaster, Ryssa hid amongst the lockers, watching and waiting to find out who was there and whether they were friend or foe. When the presence drew close, Ryssa came out of her hiding place, weapon raised and ready to fire if she had to.

"Don't come closer..." she said, her voice quiet, yet calm. "Are you friend or foe? "

[O.c. Open tag to whomever wishes to find her. :) ]

[Tank]

j===== 22:34 ======

SUB LEVEL 7

"We are your rescuers," she yelled at one former prisoner who tried to get in their way. "Head to the turbolift!" She pointed back the way she'd come, and kept moving.

"I didn't call for a r..."

Tank's words died in his throat as he looked to the armored fighter hurriedly shooing him out of the way. Not Imperial, but also not a brother. That armor looked an awful lot like...

"Death Watch" came the icy realization. Killers and terrorists of the worst sort. At least they were, back in the days when things were simpler. The Mandalorians had become whatever the needed to be at any particular moment in the days of the Empire. Some fought for the Imperials, and it appeared that others...not so much.

Cooling his glower a moment, Tank decided that while he hadn't ordered a rescue from his comrades, he wasn't about to scoff at the notion. Quickly, the former clone commander liberated a heavy blaster rifle from a dead stormtrooper, giving the weapon a field inspection as he checked it's power pack and battle-readiness.

"Good enough." he muttered, slapping in a fresh charge as the tibanna pressurizer whined. He gave the exit option a glance, making a sour face at the notion of beating a retreat. He was still an able body, and by the look of this place, there were a lot of people who might not be.

Instead, Tank took off after his rescuer, pausing only to scoop a few extra tibanna packs and a thermal detonator off another fallen trooper.

"What planet is this, Mandalorian?"

[Alice Di Scarra]

===22:31===

SUB LEVEL 8

The change of temperature caught her by surprise. She gasped for air, coughing a couple times as she fell to her knees, palms meeting solid ground. Blinking for she could barely see anything after having spent the Force knew how long in cryo-stasis, she grasped onto the Dark Side as a tether. Her body who had been so strong until she was frozen felt unresponsive compared to how it used to be. She lack quickness, flexibility and even as she pushed herself back to her feet, her legs felt wobbly for a few more moments. She hated it, but saw the opportunity to feed on it, embracing the Force anew.

Pain rippled through her soul as she recalled one of the last things that had happened before she was taken prisoner. She remembered her mentor and ally, Aksara Siron, die in her arms as they went up against their natural foe, the Jedi. She swallowed with difficulty, her hands curling into fists ready to punch.

The Sith knew she had to move. She felt life around her, and as her ears behaved better than her eyes, she heard combat farther away. It seemed that her pod had been placed in a corner of a room, possibly at an end of a level, wherever she was.

She had to make sure not to topple over nearby bodies. She frowned as she realized two of them weren't responding at all. While the room was warmer than her pod had been, the area wasn't meant to strut around in black shorts and tank top. She was hoping to find a locker somewhere but wasn't so lucky.

Her skull pounded when an explosion blasted somewhere. She didn't know what was up but it echoed through the Force with strength and seemed to act as a catalyst for she was able to pick on many more Force users than she had first been able to. Everything still felt a bit muddled but there was Light and Dark at play.

She was about to head outside of the room when she felt pain, not coming from her. A wounded soldier rushed into the room where she was and stopped on his tracks when he got to her. Relying on instincts, she threw him into a nearby wall and then grabbed at his neck, until it broke. She sensed other people farther into wherever she was but her priority was to get geared up. She removed the clothing from the man and was grateful for her tall silhouette so the clothing wasn't too mismatching. The boots were a little small but that would do. She groaned when she thought he only had a blaster with him, but eventually found a vibroblade on him too, which was more to her liking. She grabbed both weapons anyway.

She was a far cry from her top shape, but things would have to do for now.

She needed to find a way out.

[Prisoner Zero]

"Don't come closer..." she said, her voice quiet, yet calm. "Are you friend or foe? "



"I do not know."

Hidden from sight, Prisoner Zero smiled. Since his escape, a feeling, alien to the human body, had become more prominent in his mind, under his skin, like an itch he couldn't scratch. With the appearance of the girl, it made perfect sense: he was gifted and so was she. In a show of compliance, he raised his hands and turned to face her.

"I am the enemy of your enemy. Will that suffice?"

[Ryssa Kilvaari]

Ryssa lowered her weapon, choosing to trust the man for now. While still guarded, the Padawan did allow herself to relax a moment. "I don't really know what's..." she spoke as her voice cracked, her chest feeling congested and reflex ordering her to cough. For several seconds, she coughed until the congestion passed. She then looked at the man sheepishly. "My apologies...I'm still recovering from my time in stasis." she said. The truth, however, as Ryssa knew, was that she was still sick, not from hibernation, but the fact that prior to her being put on ice, Ryssa had inhaled toxins from Ossus' atmosphere when the supernova burned it and everything on Ossus' surface so long ago. While Ryssa had managed to get herself and her charges to safety underground, her lungs did inhale the hot, toxic air before she could seal herself and the young Padawans and younglings in. With good intentions, those she'd saved put her into stasis in an effort to save her. Yet now...how long had it been? She had many questions to ask, but for now...she decided to connect with the person before her.

"I'm Ryssa Kilvaari... " she said as she put her right hand to her chest, bowing her head slightly. "Prior to me being kept on ice, I was a Jedi Padawan...now, however... I'm just a girl with a gift of the Force."

[Prisoner Zero]

Once he was confident the girl was not about to shoot him, Prisoner Zero investigated the lockers, much as she had done only moments before. While he listened to her story, he gathered a pile of replacement clothes and peeled off his soaking ones. Each item of clothing was inspected before disposal, as if the mystery of his own origin story could be found within the sopping wet material or on the faded labels. Alas, not even a name was revealed to him, which became problematic after the girl introduced herself.

"I'm Zero," he said, without hesitation. "I don't remember much, but I know that I am gifted, like you. Perhaps I'm also a Jedi."

From over his shoulder, he offered her a smile. He enjoyed his voice, it had the smooth and refined quality of someone important, or, at the very least, wealthy. A flash of red light shrieked into the locker room, it chased away the gloom in a fantastic spray of sparks, and prompted Zero to hug the wall and glance outside.

"A stray shot," he decided. Between the rows of pods, he saw soldiers in polished black armour, moving with purpose, "They are close. I assume you know how to use that thing?"

[Sejah Haversh]

SUBLEVEL 8

To his horror, Sejah watched as the stormtrooper before him did not lower his blaster, but instead trained it directly on him instead.

"Woah!" Hal raised his paws. "I'm on your side! I'm on-"

He didn't get the chance to finish his statement as he saw the barrel of the blaster light up. The Force pulsing through his veins, Sejah felt every millisecond tick by as if it were a full minute, allowing himself the speed to dodge out of the way. Then his moment of clarity vanished, and he found himself ducking and weaving through pods, control boxes, wiring and coolant lines before tumbling out onto the floor beyond. All around him was death and destruction, and he had no idea where he was. Between two pods ahead of him, he saw a long-haired blonde man in Jedi robes calling out for his master, and a black-haired woman gave him some form of answer which seemed to appease him.

Blaster fire from behind gave Sejah a jump, and once more he reached for his lightsaber only to find it wasn't there. Still, if this woman could help, he would have to approach unarmed. Scrambling between the last two pods, he immediately ducked back into cover as more blaster fire surrounded him. By the time he emerged, she was gone, and he cursed his luck, and lack of understanding while peering around the corner.

[Ryssa Kilvaari]

::Sublevel 8::

Ryssa smiled slightly when Zero introduced himself, though couldn't help but wonder if it were a nickname to hide his true identity, or if he didn't remember it. She was not about to ask, however as she caught a glimpse of him changing clothes. Blushing slightly, the Padawan gave him a bit of privacy as he got dressed by turning her gaze away from him. As she did so, a stray blaster shot screamed through the room, causing her to immediately duck and hide behind a locker, weapon ready to fire when necessary.

When Zero asked if she knew how to use her blaster, Ryssa smiled slightly. "I learned to shoot about five to ten minutes ago. I'm a quick study." she whispered with some sarcasm in her voice as she reached out in the Force to locate where the armoured soldiers were. "Point and pull trigger...and yes I know the barrel is to point away from me and toward the enemy."

Ryssa then moved from her position to an area where she had a better shot while still able to remain in cover. She waited there, using the Force to keep track of their location. Once satisfied she could shoot them, she turned slightly from cover and took her first shot, surprising the group as one of their team went down. Taking advantage of the confusion, Ryssa managed to shoot a second and third in quick succession. The fourth though, needed a little ingenuity on her part. Using the Force, Ryssa snatched his weapon from him and tossed it to Zero so he had his own blaster. She then raised the trooper off his feet with the Force and sent him flying toward two other troopers with enough force to knock all three of them to the ground, leaving her and Zero with an opportunity to escape.

"Quickly! Let's go!" she said to Zero, before musing out loud, "The more things change, the more they stay the same....Would've thought the bastards learned some lessons by now..."

[Prisoner Zero]

Instinct compelled him to snatch the blaster out of the air when it was thrown his way, but to tear his gaze away from the small mountain of bodies that had piled up before them required a considerable feat of willpower. It had unfurled like a great symphony of violence, with Ryssa at its throbbing heart, conducting the carnage with the authority of a royal maestra. If he listened carefully, Zero was certain he could hear the ebb and flow of her power, ringing and resounding through the Force. And he wondered: what manner of power could he bring to bear upon his foes?

He took flight at her command, nursing the carbine to his chest like a newborn babe. Liberated from the sucking and dragging of wet clothes, he found new strength in his limbs, and a speed that, in no time, put distance between himself and the recovering soldiers. And as the first shots sailed overhead, his heart fluttered, rejoicing in the thrill of the chase. Behind a cryo pod, they found temporary reprieve and an opportunity to return fire. Zero recalled Ryssa's words as he lined up his shot - point and pull trigger - and reconsidered his strategy when he saw it swallowed by the darkness.

"It seems I am not a soldier," he informed his companion. A flurry of action drew his attention beyond the rows of cryo pods, to where a bedraggled band of fugitives were offering resistance to more armoured troops. In the flashing light of blaster fire, they danced like revellers at a Rylothian rave. Zero pointed.

"We have allies," he rose from his crouched position, "Come. There is strength in numbers."

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:35 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

De'Ville. Terrorist.

Helghast needed no explanation of how or why. Simple conclusions could be drawn from the presence of Lilaena De'Ville that quickly explained the entire scenario. A subroutine raced ahead of his thoughts providing a solution that gave Helghast slim chances of survival given his current disposition versus the adept before him. The subroutine was immediately suppressed as the combat HUD came to the forefront, lacing the oncoming woman in red lines that depicted poise and momentum, calculating possible variant angles of her lethal melee weapon. The tall Inquisitor stamped down, his heel crushing the throat of the now abruptly dead Bothan. His arms were raised to meet De'Ville as she flew at him. The long knives in each hand extended their full length to lithe swords just short of a meter in length. The material was dense and could likely withstand two, maybe three points of contact with a lightsaber. If Helghast could survive long enough.

The second subroutine, running since he first awoke, had finally compromised the installation's guardware, encountering the opposing slicer, presumably with De'Ville, only momentarily before it raced ahead to contingency protocols. 22 hours and 35 minutes until the auxiliary fleet would set into position and then eradicate any sign of this facility via orbital bombardment. Unless comms were re-established and the project manager, a Supervisor Llawl, offered the correct time sensitive code word. Helghast found that unlikely immediately and instead activated the second protocol contingency in the blink of an eye.

Y'roth stepped into the attack at an angle, one sword meeting her lightsaber for as long as he could risk it. The power throughout the facility went out and the light from his eye, De'Ville's lightsaber, and the sparks from their contact was the only source of illumination between them. Y'roth's face was the passionless stoicism of duty to match Lilaena's rage and promise of death and vengeance.

===== 22:32 =====

SUB LEVEL 7

Supervisor Llawl breathed in sharply as her connection with the installation was abruptly cut. The cryotube that she leaned against, the prison of her dearly beloved fool of a husband, quit humming with sustaining energy. There was a panic, a sense of desperation that was now permeating through her exhaustion, as she feared the likely reason behind the sudden loss of power.

It was that Captain. Captain whatever-his-name-was. That idiot. The entire installation was not lacking power all of the sudden as many if not all of the newly released occupants might think. The installation was actually conserving every ounce as the contingency protocol forced the generators to over cycle and rapidly deteriorate the twin cores containment fields. The entire mountain would explode in maybe six hours and that auxiliary fleet would arrive to not much else but a destroyed mountain visible from space. Only the console on the other side of her office, currently occupied by the barbarian would still have access to the installation main frame. They would be able to ensure that power was still routed to the turbolift from there. Something she meant to stop sooner than later.

She slowly pushed herself up to her feet, glancing back and forth as quickly as she could manage, confident that her attackers were only just waiting to come around either side and finish her off while she had attempted to recover.

===== 22:30 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

"Sir, more prisoners... They just keep coming..."

The darkness was helping them to congregate, that was for sure. Aveedes sighed, looking at the mass of prisoners taking cover several meters away from his men's forward positions. He glanced back to the turbo lift where some of the prisoners were at as well. Aveedes had dedicated his heavier weapons in that direction, expecting a war droid to stick its head out of the lift at any moment. He earnestly hoped that the power going out was simply a defensive measure employed by the invaders and nothing more. Earnestly he hoped it was not anything else. The turbolift without power meant a small reprieve that would allow him and his men to handle what they could down here for the time being. All of these prisoners were not going anywhere fast, and reports were coming in that the troops were still killing plenty of them as the weakened and dazed stumbled into their cross hairs.

Captain Aveedes had pulled back the roving pairs of troops as much as he could, losing too many men by themselves out there, he feared a sudden onslaught of force adepts at any moment. He hoped they had saved enough grenades for when that came, or even that they would know it before the line broke.

[Ryssa Kilvaari]

Ryssa couldn't help but smile slightly as Zero believed himself to not be a soldier. There was a time when she felt the same way. However, back when she was training, it was expected of her to learn to command Republic troops once she'd completed her Jedi Trials. While she had been just days away from completing her trials to become a knight of the Jedi Order, it never came to be. For her, the muscle memory was as fresh as the day she learned them. The only thing she didn't know was just how long she'd been frozen and with that, many questions came to her mind. What kind of galaxy had she awoken into? Was this battle just a one off or were the Republic still at war with the Empire? What role should she play in this once the battle was over? Should she just fade into an unknown life, taking all the memories the Jedi could learn of into the grave once the Force claimed her soul? Or should she rejoin their cause and relive the days of battle once more?

In truth, her questions had to wait for another time as something else caught her attention in the Force. Dark energies. Something...someone that was talented in the Dark Side had been awoken. Lessons of the past had taught her to be on guard and when Zero spoke of possible allies being nearby, Ryssa was more than a little concerned. As a Jedi, it was her duty to protect them...to be the barrier for which the dark could not pass, yet Ryssa also knew that, this was something she could not do. She was too weak, both medically and in the Force. As the firefight raged on around them, Ryssa felt her lungs burning, urging her to cough hard once more. She needed to get out of this situation as quickly as possible, yet she could not morally leave others behind to fight while they escaped.

Once her fit of coughing subsided, Ryssa looked over at Zero. "Str -cough- strength in numbers they may be, but it counts for nothing if they don't start -cough- making their way to the door, they'll have a bigger problem on their hands." Ryssa warned. "There wasn't just Jedi in these tanks...I sense a dark side presence too...and should they decide to attack our allies, I'm in no shape to stop them."

Of course Ryssa would do her best to buy them time if she had to, but inside, Ryssa hoped that whomever the dark presence was would be pragmatic enough to realize it is better to lend their strength in getting out of here then to add to the carnage.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:34 until Imperial fleet arrives to destroy the base =====
===== 5:59 until facility power cores explode =====

SUB LEVEL 8

She did not hesitate. She did not falter. He had once had her at his mercy but now, now, he was at hers.

And she had none.

De'Ville batted aside one of his swords and ducked underneath the second as Inquisitor Helgast met her attack with one of his own. Her blade and the sparks it made against his was the only source of light in the immediate surroundings. The comms were active with her vod trying to get the turbolift running again, but she had eyes only for her enemy, and her fury beat him backward. She was not the woman he had known and subjugated. Not anymore. Never again.

SUB LEVEL 7

[cryopod warehouse]
"What planet is this, Mandalorian?"

"Hoth," Ciryc replied to the freed prisoner, their path to the offices clear except for other defrosted and confused people, Teroch and the wardroid Jariler doing a fine job keeping the troopers off their six. Hel reached the office doors just ahead of them as the power flickered and went out. Only the intermittent blaster fire illuminated the entire level, and the Mando'ade were quick to turn on the lights in their gauntlets. The powered doors would not open - and their brothers had sealed them.

"Open the doors!"

[inside the office]
Choruk cursed as the lights went out, but the computer console remained active. The virus Mand'alor had written was still working, pulling the innermost files from the mainframe and copying them to the datastick. There was too much to fit, even though it was only going after the highly classified files. He scanned the console while Obed was forced back off to open the door for their vod, leaving the wounded jetii behind the cryopod.

"Power is out to the turbolift!" came the call over the comms.

"I can reroute it from here," Choruk said. I think. He could see that power was still being generated by the system, it just wasn't going past the buffers. Instead, it was building up around the dual cores and containment would be breached in a matter of hours. He forced the computer to reclassify the turbolifts as mandatory systems - air was still flowing in and out of the compound despite the power dump - and clicked on his comms. "If I cannot override the command, this entire compound will detonate in -"

The jetii stumbled out from behind the cryopod, her red lightsaber flashing in the darkness as Obed opened the outer doors to admit Hel and Ciryc. Choruk was forced to leap away from the console, aiming his blaster at her chest and squeezing off a few bolts as she sank her blade into the console.

===== 22:33/5:58 =====

COMM ARRAY
Kotir still stood at the ruined array, the bodies of the Imperials sent against it scattered in the snow like bloodied toys. Aang collapsed at the basilisk's feet, his breath fogging up his helmet as internal systems failed. From what he could hear on his comms, his vod had only hours to complete their mission and clear out. He looked over to where he could just see the top of Laara's helmet, resting against a snowbank as if she had fallen asleep, and then he dragged himself upright, using handholds on Kotir's powerful legs. "We did our duty," he said to Laara, climbing aboard the wardroid and leaving her body to keep watch on the mountain.

[Ondraeya]

===== 22:30 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

Continuing to follow the dark haired woman with the lightsaber, Ondraeya's steps continued to be compelled by pure adrenaline more than anything as her desire to escape this hell was stronger than ever. Stepping over fallen bodies of troopers in armor as well as some of those that had once been encapsulated in these pods, the Hapan kept pushing one foot in front of the other. Then it hit her as she bent down to one of the trooper's belts and dug out a small canister of water and a protein bar. Trying her best not to inhale both, she nearly choked on the bar, hand to her mouth as she coughed incessantly. Though in the tumult of combat that reigned around her, no one seemed to take notice. Tear filled eyes blinked several times as she continued eating, then washed it down. It wasn't much, but it would at least keep her a bit longer, she mused. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and soon rose again, now taking in the fight between her apparent savior and another in red armor. Both seemed adept with their weapons as well as in her way to another turbolift which appeared damaged in some way. Moving along, past another pair of cryopods, avoiding blaster bolts and other prisoners running for their lives or fighting Imperials, she started to recognize the symbology on the red armored man's shoulder pieces.

The obvious Imperial symbol gave Ondraeya a moment of pause as she then raised her rifle, aiming at the target center mass and waited for the moment when he was focusing both weapons against his foe. Rage for all that the Empire had taken away, then locked her in this hold, she unloaded a full eclip on the target. Feeling the adrenaline pumping through her body, the Hapan wanted to rip this man's throat out with her teeth, rage in her eyes.

[Tag: Y'roth, Lilaena]

[Tank]

For lack of a better option, Tank followed behind Ciryc, keeping a tight cheek weld on his rifle as he panned every cover position he advanced past.

"You're not with Gar Saxon. Who are you? Clan Rau?"

Blaster fire zipped past as they reached the offices. Tank skidded behind a door frame to use as cover as he stitched a cluster of fire in the direction of the last bolts.

[Llamendo dal Iesin]

SUBLEVEL 8

"Get to safety!" cried a voice, and Llamendo staggered backwards as blaster fire screamed past him. He stumbled, hands fumbling for anything safe and sturdy. Finding purchase, he swayed to his feet, eyes darting up and down the length of the chamber. All that he had to grasp on to was the woman who had called out to him. In the split-second flashes of light provided by blaster fire, she was all he had. Pushing aside the confusion and fear, Llamendo darted towards Lilaena.

"Please," he pleaded as he swayed into a bulkhead not far from Lilaena, his vision still a murky fog. "What's happening?!"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:29 until Imperial fleet arrives to destroy the base =====
===== 5:54 until facility power cores explode =====

SUB LEVEL 8

Lilaena battered Helgast against a cryopod, the past five minutes of dueling seemed to have taken years as each stroke of a blade was met and counter,ed. He did not seem to be suffering from any sort of hibernation sickness, in fact hardly any of the freed prisoners were exhibiting symptoms. She could not think about the strangeness of that, however, as her rage boiled over.

She gripped him with the Force and lifted his body into the air, flinging the former Inquisitor meters away down between the cryopods. Lilaena took a deep breath, shuddering with power, but he did not return to finish the fight. She moved as though to follow his trajectory, to finish him off, but voices broke through her blind rage and she turned toward the closest one.

A blond haired man was crouching beside a support pillar, witness to her fight with Helgast. "What's happening?" he repeated, confusion etched on his finely drawn features.

Her comm crackled. Choruk. "I've rerouted power to the turbolifts. Oh, and this entire mountain will explode in about five hours."

"We'll be long gone by then. Switch to defense," Lilaena ordered into her comm, her eyes still on the long haired man opposite her. "Get as many prisoners out as you can."

Even as she said it, blaster bolts whizzed over her head and stitched into the pillar in front of her, sending a spray of duracrete down on the man. She crouched down, turning her head and noting Jeng in the distance as he jumped down from his vantage and began falling back toward the central 'lifts.

"We're here to rescue you," she said. "It's going great. Come on."

Lilaena hesitated a moment to make sure he was following her, and began to lead him to the turbolifts.

===== 22:27 / 5:52 =====

SUB LEVEL 7

The jetii slid off the console, leaving a smear of blood behind as Obed shoved her body to the floor with his remaining hand. He looked at Choruk, who shook his head.

"The download was interrupted when she stabbed the console. But, I did manage to restore power to the turbolifts." He pocketed the datastick, concealing it safely under his armor. Ciryc and Hel were waiting, and they joined together to make their way back to the central location of the lifts. One of the formerly frozen had joined them, and was holding a blaster rifle like he knew what do to with it.

As the man pegged a trooper with a carefully aimed bolt, Choruk gave him a nod. They moved in formation back to their vod, where Teroch was holding a turbolift for them. The great wardroid Jariler coughed out globs of weaponized energy, sending the last of the troopers on level 7 to their deaths.

"Up or down?"

"Both."

[Llamendo dal Iesin]

SUB LEVEL 8

There was no time to think, nothing to do but trust in the Force, as distant as it felt, as Llamendo stumbled after his mysterious rescuer. Ahead, the stranger was indistinct, sometimes a silhouette illuminated by the flash of blaster fire, other times lost in the darkness. Llamendo ground his knuckles into his eyes, trying to rub away the unnatural haze that clouded his vision, the aftereffects of his time in statis. How long had it been? With each step, his legs protested or felt like they were limbs belonging to someone else entirely.

“Where are we?! What is this place? I - need to find my master.”

[Sejah Haversh]

SUB LEVEL 8

"Don't think our masters are here, pal," Sejah grunted to the long-haired man before him. He was a stranger, but from the cut of his clothing, less strange than everything else which surrounded them, so the Nehantite guessed that this man must also be a Jedi. Or a Padawan. Or at least not trying to kill everyone, which was good enough for the moment.

Rescue. The woman had said it, and he felt no reason to doubt her, so he followed as well, keeping his head low, until reaching the relative safety of the turbolift. Only there could he see his new companions clearly, yet the first words out of his mouth were, "Anybody got a spare lightsaber? Or blaster?"

[Sherobah Angau]

SUB LEVEL 8

A matter of steps behind Sejah, Sherobah had moments ago concealed a stolen lightsaber - found near the malfunctioning wreck of a stasis pod - beneath her clothes. As she neared the group of three, she schooled her expression into something not quite as frantic and panicked as the human man, but less hard and cold than she truly felt.

“This is a nightmare,” she said. “We need to run, not fight.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:24 / 5:49 =====

LEVEL ONE / ENTRANCE

Vail clung to Buruk’s back as the besu’liik reached its fellows. Five other wardroids prowled the main courtyard, but there had been no resistance for the last ten minutes. She nudged the damaged droid toward where Aang sat astride Kotir, her right side numb where she had been burned in the explosion on sub level 3.

He turned his helmet toward her. “You look like shit.”

“Others fared far worse,” she replied.

Aang nodded. Vail noticed Laara’s absence, but said nothing.

A group of people came cautiously out of the freight elevator, two white armored figures with them. Her HUD tagged them as Tiktik and Granoi, and Vail smiled behind her T-visor. The biting cold of Hoth instantly cut through the thin and damp clothes the former prisoners were dressed in, and Acolytes surrounded them, herding the group quickly across the courtyard to where the Aranar was landing, great drifts of snow plowing up as it settled down.


SUB LEVEL 8

Lilaena nodded in agreement with the dark haired woman.

“Time to go.” They had reached the turbo lift, and she looked back at the cavernous room. Flashes of light were almost certainly signs of the recently unfrozen being killed or stunned by the troopers. The Imperials would soon realize that they were no longer pinned down. Lilaena switched to her internal comm.

“Jeng, where are you?” He had jumped down from his perch, but had not rejoined her.

A group of four people in wet prison jumpsuits came into sight, dragging a body in white Mandalorian armor. One was holding Jeng’s blaster rifle and covering their escape, shooting back toward the slowly advancing troopers. Lilaena cursed, her lightsaber igniting once more as she dashed toward the little group, deflecting blaster bolts as she jumped between them and the Imperials.

Jeng was unconscious and his armor carbon scored, but he was still alive. These people must have seen him fall and decided to get him to safety.

“Get him to the lift! Go up and out!” Lilaena didn’t bother with further instructions, focusing her rage at protecting their exit for as many people as possible. The Aranar had landed and the Haran was entering the system, but it was only a matter of time before the Imperials jumped into orbit with a response of their own. They didn’t expect the nearest fleet would be able to mount a response to the communications going down and arrive before a few more hours had passed, but it was best to get out as soon as possible.

[Llamendo dal Iesin]

SUB LEVEL 8

Llamendo darted forward to the group dragging the unconscious body. One of the four was struggling with the dead-weight and gladly relinquished the arm they were shouldering, allowing Llamendo to duck beneath it. With Lilaena deflecting blaster fire, the five of them make quick work of pulling Jeng into the waiting turbolift. Others followed and soon the lift doors were sliding shut, enveloping the group in a bubble of artificial stillness. Llamendo crouched beside Jeng, reaching for the Force in an effort to sense how critical the Mandalorian’s injuries were.

[Layla Cimmerian]

The lights winked out as she watched the duel between the armored figure, and the woman with the purple lightsaber. She instantly knew which side she needed to be on but did not take the most direct route which would have brought her through their scuffle. Instead she ducked down an adjacent row and moved parallel to the fight until she saw through gaps in the pods as the woman dispatched her enemy.

From her place on the other side of the cryopods she had her suspicions confirmed, the woman was here to rescue them. It was evident though that this was no prolonged foray into the mountain structure, and the window for escape was closing rapidly. She managed to slip into line behind the prisoners dragging one of their rescuers, joining the gathering that amassed at the turbolift. Layla tried to tuck her stolen brown robes in tighter around her frame for warmth, pausing halfway between the turbolift and Lilaena.

She could feel the darkside in this one, but not so much the others. It made her leery of revealing too much of who she was, or what she was. There was a moment though where she realized she had no identity any longer. She could be what she wanted, but the most important part was survival. How did she best survive? Lilaena took up a defensive position for the rest of them, and Layla spared a glance back to the turbolift. So easy to get in and ride it to safety. Would they leave without this other woman though?

“What about you?” She found her voice, considering her options. Fight or flight. No, delay or flight? That seemed more appropriate given the situation. She stilled a breath in her lungs, reached out and focused. A cryopod some fifteen feet ahead of Lilaena opened but only just enough for the hatched door to impede blaster fighter. She turned at the waist, focused and did so with another pods hatch, this one opening at a different angle. Focus, turn, attempt again. The next would not budge, and she wondered if it was merely locked or if her strength had only failed to return to her.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

SUB LEVEL 8


Behind her she could hear the turbolift closing, Jeng unconscious but safely inside with some of the others. Lilaena spun her lightsaber, purple light blazing a trail in the semi-darkness of the sub level as she danced with the blaster bolts. She could hold the stormtroopers off for a little while, perhaps long enough for the 'lift to return one or two more times.

The Force warned her, and she caught movement out of the corner of her eye - troopers spreading out through the level, no longer pinned down in one corner. If they flanked her it would be a fierce fight indeed. A flicker - and a cryopod door popped wider, blocking some of the incoming bolts. Another nearby did the same, and Lilaena risked a glance back to see one of the former prisoners with her hand outstretched, using the Force.

Lilaena nodded to her, and then returned her full attention to the troopers. Cold and wet beings were still trying to make their way toward the 'lift, some being cut down by blaster fire before they could get close enough for her protection. The rage inside her threatened to boil over, but she held it tightly, turning it into something cold and hard.



LEVEL ONE / ENTRANCE


Granoi turned from herding a group of people toward the Aranar, the Defender, and saw some new arrivals struggling with a body in armor. She clicked her tongue at Hel, gesturing, and the other warrior ran the distance toward the turbolift, Tiktik close on her heels.

Hel reached them quickly, helping the group to clear the turbolift so others could use it, and then dropping to her knees beside Jeng's body. One of the others was removing his helmet. She saw with relief that her vod was not dead, but injured.

"There is help on board, help me carry him," she said, reaching to pick him up.

[Layla Cimmerian]

Sub Level 8

She could feel the darkness emanating from their would-be rescuer, and Layla sought to feed off it. She drew strength from someone that had not suffered atrophied senses the way she had. That darkness was cold and familiar, inviting. She kept herself from plunging just over to keep her wits about her as she drew from her own well and from the fear, pain and death that surrounded her. It reinvigorated a part of her, though still in some manner of a muted form.

Layla sank down to a single knee, touching her hands to the floor. She kept her frame small to make her a more difficult target and searched with all of her mental capacity. Her senses felt along that same cryo-pod that had refused to budge, the power system on it flickering briefly. She traced along its component, until she found what she sought. A tube burst off from the side of the pod, flailed form a moment, then steadied in the direction of the troopers as frigid gas poured out.

The thick cloud of white obscured her vision enough that she didn’t know what became of them on the other side of the mist, but she only cared to delay and protect the line of escape for as long as necessary. Even as she held her concentration to keep the tube from moving uncontrollably, she sought what other tricks she could employ.

[Ryssa Kilvaari]

::Sublevel 8::

Ryssa had a lot on her mind. Having been frozen for so long and waking up in the middle of a warzone, the ancient Padawan had no idea whose side she was meant to be on to assist and briefly watched from a distance behind cover to gauge the situation. While she could not fully trust those that fired upon the stormtroopers, Ryssa saw a familiar enemy and remembered Jael's teachings about the enemy of my enemy hopefully being a friend. Her rescuers Force signatures were full of darkness, but Ryssa did not care. They had helped her so it was her duty to help them!

Coughing hard as he lungs burned for a moment, Ryssa took her newly acquired blasters and looked to Zero. "Go! I may be weak but I'm not without other tricks up my sleeve! Help the others escape if you can!" she said before closing her eyes a moment, allowing the Force to flow through her. She could keep her illness at bay for now but without medical treatment, she knew it could kill her, yet so could this firefight. In her mind, Ryssa truly cared little for her wellbeing. If she lived, she would explore this new galaxy once again to find her place amongst the stars. If she died here then she would've died doing her duty to her final breath. Finding herself behind a group of stormtroopers that threatened to flank her rescuers, Ryssa picked several of them off one by one to protect them. She could feel the darkness within her rescuers more now and any sane Jedi would've backed away, yet the ancient Padawan had come from a far different Jedi Order, one that had strived for balance of light and dark, not the Order of today. As a result, Ryssa, while still cautious, was far more pragmatic than most. She cared little for the background of others, but if they were in need of help, Ryssa would be one of the first to willingly stand by their side if they were willing to look past what she stood for.

As Ryssa fired a shot at the Stormtroopers, taking one down that was near one of her rescuers, the ancient Padawan smirked a little at them while in cover. "Sorry... I forgot to bring a lightsaber to this party..." she said in a way that broke the ice as she helped take down another trooper in range. "I do hope a blaster and some old tricks will suffice, however."

[open tag]

[Tank]

Tank had managed to follow his rescuers up the lift to the surface, getting not a damned bit of anything in response to his question. Whatever was happening, this looked like the staging for a dust-off. The former clone commander braced for a savage chill as he was herded towards the nearest ship, though he wasn't about to relinquish his weapon just yet.

"I want some answers. What clan are you? Who sent you?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

LEVEL ONE / ENTRANCE
=== 21:53 until the Empire responds to breach // 5:18 until facility self-destruct ===


Ciryc reached down and helped Tank into a waiting shuttle from the Haran as the Aranar lifted off, blasting the ground with sharp ice particles. "There was a time we were Clan Ordo."

Lilaena staggered out of the building, half-dragging an semi-conscious Rodian as she made for the last remaining shuttle. Hands from her vod reached to help and her burden was lifted as she climbed in out of the wind. Her armor's climate regulators were damaged from the fighting and she struggled not to shake from the cold.

"Let's get out of here."

Within the next twenty-minutes there was no trace left behind of the Mando'ade, except for their dead left frozen on the mountain and immolated down below.