Log:Defiance Guild: Bonadan
The short story: Defiance intercepts a dead drop on Bonadan, and gets hit by traps and mishaps set by both sides of the transaction. Jehn is a goddess of mighty strength. Dash Rendar is mortal. There are no bombs.
The long story:
Waaaaaahhhh-aaaahhhh-ahhhhhhhh, the sound of a baby wailing fills the cargo hold of the Mayhem. It's Hex's newly acquired 2-year old Twi'lek child, who is mad about life in general, and whom Hex is balancing on his hip. His expression is one of stoic regret. A small monitor is hooked up in here, and outside, afternoon is turning into dusk. "Ladies, gentlemen, for those of you who don't know him... this is Dash Rendar," Hex introduces Shoulder Pads over there. "Collaboration with him brought us the intel for this dead drop, so pretend you're not totally feral for a few hours." He raises his voice to speak over the squalling kid, "Any moment now, we're going to see the first half of the drop, the unstable ore shipment. Following that, people are gonna clear out, and the money drop arrives. Soon as the money drop people appear that they got gone, you all are going in on the Mayhem to get it before the intended recipients. Probably we'll start a gang war, but... eh. Be careful out there, night's falling, I don't know anything about the wildlife, and this is a polluted wasteland full of things to trip over. Goddess, Ila, would you shut up." That's to the baby, who does not, and Hex points at the surveillance monitor. "There. Look sharp. First half's going down. If you need to pee or pray do it now."
"Huh!?" questions Dash, as he snaps back to reality, his dark eyes landing on the monitor for a brief moment before they turn to regard the crowd of (mostly) unknown faces. He raises a gloved hand to them in greeting before crossing them over his chest. "It'll be great," he adds to Hex's briefing.
The most feral of the group, Mr. Maniacal himself, Raim the Eelpuncher Shah is seated in one of the flight chairs looking anything but. He is strapped in completely, and has his left leg crossed over his right, his arms folded neatly over his chest and by all appearances is completely asleep, that glowing scarlet 'light' of his eyes hidden behind sapphire hued eye lids. He is listening, though, and as Hex points toward the surveillance monitor, his eyes snap open and he watches the video feed, hands moving to unfasten the restrains with a professional ease. "I hope this is worth it," he comments idly, his monotone almost sounding bored. "And that there are no eels here."
Nyla Forr has done her part, right? She lounging near the surveillance monitor, her datapad in hand as she watches the AC1 droid's status updates. Occasionally she glances upwards, catching bits of Hex's rousing speech between the howls of the infant. "I hear Jehn is good with eels," she pipes up in a bored voice, tapping idly at the pad to pull up new droid info. "But not so much with kids an' their parents. Watch out, Hex." Nyla doesn't even look up at her crack, instead just snorting a laugh with her eyes still on the screen.
Zhu Yan, magic man, had two blasters now! A big-ass DL-44 lookalike sat on his opposite hip, balancing out with the Bryar. Yay for irrelevant facts. Because Yan was paranoid and excitable, he was pacing about the cabin. "So. Question. Big one," he uttered, completely ignoring the looking-at-the-screen business. "Where'd the kid come from? Second question. How come the kid came on this trip? Lotta dangerous schuttas in this room."
Jehni'va Cihn is in rare form today; she's got her little jumpsuit, her goggles, a bottle of water (never overlook the importance of consistent hydration), and is having way too much fun up in the air. Like, way too much fun. With the baby wailing through the audio she winces and doggedly continues to ignore it as Hex's voice crackles through the feed. "Can we pee and pray at the same time?" She asks over the comm, watching the wasteland stretch out below the Mayhem and adjusting its course a few degrees. Maybe they could all take turns peeing in Tarion's speeder, because that's the trend these days. "It just seems like it would be more economical." She squints at the drop and grins - trying and failing not to look just a little bit feral. "Nyla, I am fantastic with eels." She assures the droid mechanic. She loves wildlife! In fact there's a half-feral anooba pup wearing goggles strapped into a booster seat with her. Because Jehn.
Kasia has yet to perfect the art of tuning out children yet, which means she's been hearing that shrill kid cry a lot lately. Which might explain why she has a pair of headphones on her ears, and likely has some sort of music playing to drown the sound out. It also drowns out Hex, but surely she has some idea of what's happening here anyway, and simply observes the group while her head bobs a little to a beat only she can hear.
"No Eels, Raim," Hex promises. "There are tortapes and two separate gangs of people who want to kill you if they find you, though, so... there's that." He bounces the child a little in a futile effort to get Ila to quiet down, and on the monitor, the gangs do their work fast. Several large crates marked with 'radioactive' symbols are wheeled past the surveillance feed's field of vision, and shortly thereafter, the whine of a spacecraft lifting off can be heard as dead drop gang 1 leaves the goods and takes off. "The kid's an orphan thanks to whatever rash-burned assbasket decided to fly cap ships into Parmac's," Hex answers Yan. "He and I aren't going with you, and the plural of schutta is schuttakku. It is in Ryl, anyway." The baby stops crying a moment to whimper, "Schuttakku," and then Hex points at the monitor. "There we go. Drop 2." A group of darkly clad humanoids walk past the footage area with a pair of briefcases, no doubt each one a briefcase full of MONEY. The radioactive crates are wheeled away, but the camera doesn't show where either of the briefcases ended up. "Jehn?" Hex comms to the bridge. "Look alive, and as soon as that last ship clears sensors, get in."
The Mayhem moves fast, though both the Outrider and Redline are faster I KNOW OK, and it doesn't take long to get to the abandoned weather station. Once they've landed.... there's nothing. It's as the desc says. There's no obvious signs of tampering, and briefcase size objects suddenly seem like they could be quite small. Hex squints out the cargo bay when the ramp lowers. "Try not to find everything possible to die on out here. And I swear to god nobody better lose an arm. Bye now. Have fun. Go make us some paper."
"My ship's way faster than this," Dash grumbles, literally only doing this because he needs cash to fix said ship. Hands moves down his torso to rest on his hips, one of them playing with the safety toggle of his DL-54.
"You know, last time I came to Bonadan, I think I tussled with these guys," Dash says, swaggering off the ramp of the thing, sort of oblivious to anything that might be waiting for him outside. "Had this older guy leading them. Rubin Torval or something like that, I think. Real tall. Scar across the eye and everything."
He wanders off the ramp and starts kicking at a rock, "That guy played the meanest nose flute you've ever heard."
Raim grumbles as he pushes himself to his feet as the ship touches down. He secures his jetpack on his back and then the goggles resting atop his head before walking along at an easy clip letting someone else lead, given that the last time he hurried to be off of the ship first he got bit by a hallucinogenic filled bug and burned a forest down. "Okay... so the plan is to get these brief cases and get back on the ship, right? That sounds easy enough," he says, though it is evident that the Chiss does not believe that it will be that easy at all.
Nyla Forr rolls her eyes at Jehn's comments, keeping her full attention on the datapad. She taps her fingers on the edge of the pad with impatience, squinting at the information flowing through it. "Starting to get some heat signatures," she comments to Hex. Her head lifts and she looks to the monitor. "Oh." Looks like Hex is already aware. She sits up fully and sets her datapad down. "So, uh. That's all you need from me?" Nyla asks curiously as she rubs her thumb on her belted blaster.
"Sounds like a type of mushroom," Yan mused over the newfound plural of his second-favourite swear word. This held most of his focus as the Mayhem took them to their destination and dropped them off. "Schuttakku. Hm. I don't like it. I'm sticking with the bastard version." Straight up talking to himself by now. Oh wait! Raim was talking. "It's never easy. So make sure your blasters are on hand," he commented, looking around with all the searching skill of a dead ranat. Dash was also talking but Yan had long since learned to tune him out.
"Aye aye, capn'." Jehn answers, saluting as the Mayhem skims, fast and furious to the drop point... Just like it was supposed to without jumping the gun or anything. After landing, she unbuckles and pulls her goggles up to the sound of the ramp lowering. "You gonna be good?" She demands of the pup, unstrapping her and grabbing an empty duffel from under her seat. At least the thing follows these days. "Yo Nyla wait up, BB!" She squeaks, falling into step behind the droid mechanic with a grin - mostly because this is the first mission in awhile where she will be able to see in person that Jehn's injuries and screwups aren't always 100% her fault.... Maybe. Probably not. But gullible as ever, she is certain that this is going to be just as easy as it appears, despite that having literally never been the case. "Hex said it would be easy!" She assures Raim as she passes the Chiss, even raising a hand to slap him on the shoulder in the patronizing way football players slap each other on the ass. But she isn't slapping Raim on the ass - Rheisa would blowdart her tit off or something, she's sure. See? Look - everything is right where it's supposed to be, and she has a lot more faith in the integrity of their mission's ease than Yan or... Literally anybody else.
It's as the drop is being made that Kasia removes her headphones, which are set down somewhere on the ship. It's one of theirs, she can put things where she likes. "Everything in Ryl sounds like some kind of mushroom, it's a national obsession." For once she isn't wearing her usual attire, it's pants, boots, and a shirt, all very nice, all perfectly tailored for her, all tucked in and neat. It might not be a dress, but it doesn't quite fit in on this world either, but it is easier to run in at least. She's even got a weapon on her hip, though who knows if she's ever used it. Be wary, friends.
"Not hardly, Nyla," Hex shakes his head at the droid mechanic. "You're going with them. Get the AC1 back, for one thing, I don't want to leave that here. And keep an eye on Jehni'va, ok ka. Bless her heart." Which is obviously the most savage thing you can say about a person. He spends a moment fondly watching Kasia's ass, then hands Nyla a flashlight. "Probably nobody brought a light," he remarks. "Be a hero."
"You know...Rubin's was never known for his reliance on tradecraft," Dash begins to speak, thumb looping through his gunbelt, and looking over to Zhu Yan. "My money says that he still isn't. Gonna go out on a limb and say even his dead drops are well protected." A pause as his dark eyes squint and begin to have a closer look around. "Strange that everyone just kinda...left."
Nyla Forr takes the flashlight and stares up at Hex. "But I'm /Nyla/," she reminds him in a sort of stunned voice before she slowly turns to follow the parade out. She glances over her shoulder and looks at Jehn following her. "I'm the light," she explains to Jehn, waggling the flashlight in the air. "Yaaay."
Raim follows along with the group, not really joining in on the conversation as he glances around in search of briefcase and any sign of danger. He nods in agreement with Dash as he says, "If I was putting money on it, I would bet at least one of the groups went up stairs. It would be smart of them to not keep the briefcases in the same place, too... so that may mean that we need to split up."
"Mmmh," agreed Zhu Yan in a tone that really did not carry any enthusiasm for the task whatsoever. "If I were a crook, which I'm not," which he thoroughly is, "I'd have split them up as well. Good call." His finger was idly tapping the side of his Bryar out of paranoia. "If we stick together and run into trouble, then we alert who's covering the other side. We need to split up." And Yan hated himself for saying that. "I can take Jehn and Nyla for one, and you other three can get the other." Good amount of firepower and technical skills on either team that way!
Where would one hide a briefcase? Jehn only gives this a moment of thought before she and the anooba veer off toward the abandoned structure of the tower. "There are a lot of hidey holes over there, gonna check it out." She assures her roommate with a grin - still convinced this is business as usual (and not yet realizing that with this group /that is what should terrify her/). She does pause to turn and /very/ pointedly stick her tongue out at Hex. "I'm /perfectly/ capable. Nyla, tell him I'm perfectly -" Walking backwards, she trips, she falls, and the pilot leaps back to her feet on the next beat. Nothing to see here, she's going to go check out all those hidey holes and never make eye contact with anyone ever again. Dash's words give her pause, though. "Probably just really sure of their hiding skills... Right?" Right? She still hasn't lost hope. They're discussing splitting up - great idea, what could go wrong? She's still very optimistic about all of this as she is assigned to team Nylan'iva. "Oh sweet, we have the light." Suck it, bitches.
"I don't think splitting up is the best idea, even if it'll make us move a little faster," Kasia voices, glancing around at the group. "If we're in a smaller group and they show up, and they could at any point, that makes us easier pickings. We're harder to take out in one larger group." She doesn't have an opinion on whether or not the cases were split up, leaving those theories to the criminals of the group.
The area grows darker as night catches hold of Bonadan. All is quiet and there's no sign of anyone else just now. Back on the ship, Hex rocks a baby to sleep and fondly thinks about how there's more money for the survivors if a couple unnecessary people kick it.
"Hey, look at that," Dash says, head tilting as his eyes spot a faint glimmer in the dark. He quirks his lips to the side a bit and steps towards it, signaling for everybody else to stand back, just in case. "Don't think splitting up is the best idea, Zhu." He slides a small pair of scissors from his tool belt and looks the small box over with the nigh-imperceptible beam emanating from it. "No idea of knowing what we might be up against down here."
The work doesn't take long, as Dash seems familiar with the model of device he's set to destroy. A few clipped wires and he says, "Should be safe, now. Anybody else see anything?"
Raim isn't far behind Dash, in face he is leaning over the man as he disables the trap he has found. "Very nice," he says slowly, as if he were grading a paper that Dash had written. "See if you can't disable the one over on that bottom stair now. Looks like it will snap on someone's foot when someone steps on it."
Nyla Forr flips the flashlight in her hand and pointedly looks away as Jehn falls on her ass. Did she see that? Of course she did. "A'right, Dash m'man," she says with a half grin and keeps flipping the flashlight. She ducks through, making her way towards where she /thinks/ the droid is. "There you are," Nyla mutters quietly and picks up the lighter droid. "Geeze A-C, have you lost weig-- THIS ISN'T OUR DROID." Nyla yell-whispers, holding the droid out at arm's length and looking horrified at it. Without thinking she raises it up and smashes to the floor, aiming a kick that misses. "DO SOMETHING!" Nyla once again scream-whispers at the group. Cool and collected, Nyla. Cooool and collected.
OH MY GOD JC A BOMB! While Nyla promptly flipped her shit like a pancake in front of him, Zhu Yan was focusing on other things. Like the stairs. And when he saw something up the stairs he abruptly threw both his arms out, halting the progress of anyone behind him (and paying zero attention to any compromising positions his hands may have winded up in) before quietly saying, "Blinking red light up the stairs. I've watched enough Holonet flicks to know a bomb when I see it." Technically Yan can't see it fully. "Does anyone wanna stick their head up the stairs?" Because Yan won't. Nuh uh. That way lies the explosion side.
Despite expectations Jehni'va is not going to be one of the unnecessary people kicking it tonight! Intent on heading up the stairs to the tower, something sticks out to her. "Shit, wait -" The gangly pilot, in a rare (very rare) moment of insight thrusts her arm out to stop any others who may have had similar intentions of ascending the steps to the tower structure and hadn't already collided with Yan's arm like she does. "Skip that one." Over the other pilot's arm, she points to the wobbly, super untrustworthy step that Hex probably meant to be a brief moment of painful comic relief at her expense - and she hops over it instead. Not today! She hangs back, keeping with the group that has has decided not to split up afterall. Sorry Nylan'iva, this place has more traps than boobies... Aaaaaaaand a bad droid. Bad droid! "Welp."
As Kasia steps in the room amid the general chaos that comes with being in the group, and pauses. "Hey," she says in a similar loud whisper that's meant to carry within the room, and she gestures to some footprints in the soft ground that go right up to a door under the stairs. "Might be something in there, but..." Here she hesitates, frowning a little. "Just, whoever opens it, be careful," she sounds uneasy, and appears to be disinclined to open it herself.
Dash Rendar points an incredulous look in the direction of the Chiss. And then to everybody else. He holds his hands out to his side with a 'Seriously?' sort of gesture. "Yeah, I guess the old guy who can't see quite as well as he used to can do all of the work," he asides to himself, kneeling down next to the bottom stair. He grunts, aged bones making him regret his decision.
And then he's off to work trying to disable the leg trap. But things don't go quite so smoothly this time around. The heavy chronometer on his wrist flips around to the other side of his arm as he works, landing with a *tink* on the pressure sensor.
"Sithspi-" *CLANK* the trap slams shut on Captain Rendar's arm, driving metal teeth into it and snapping the bone, leaving the scoundrel only one option; screaming in pain.
Nyla Forr looks pained, absolutely pained, at the half crushed droid at her feet. "Awh, geeze," Nyla mutters and bends her knees to crouch and inspect the droid. "M'sorry," she mumbles a few times to the little thing, picking it up and keeping careful to keep a hand over it's lens while working at the back panel. "Hey, there we go," Nyla mutters as she wiggles to pull her datapad out and run diagnostics on the little device. Her eyes scan the readings that blink and beep out. "Anyone know a... Rubin, er, Torvel?" She asks, looking around just in time to stare at Dash. Yikes.
The incident of Dash almost losing his arm resulted in the hiss of "Frack this sithspit," from Zhu Yan the hilariously paranoid. Out came the Bryar. Bitches be needin' to be dead, yo. The weapon hummed quietly, indicating a full charge ready to fire. He was gonna make a motherfracker go pop. Carefully avoiding the noticed traps, he hiked it to the cupboard under the stairs where the wizard presumably lived and, standing behind the door, he caaaaaaarefully turned the handle and caaaaaaaarefully pulled it open.
And, completely un-carefully, a dead Weequay keeled out and fell over. "Huh," said Yan, trying to block out the screams of the other smuggler in the area. He bent over and looked closer, noticing the briefcase in the dead man's hand. And the audible ticking.
"OUT!" bellowed Zhu Yan as he bolted upright and started to move. "BOMB."
Things seem to be devolving rather quickly as they find one trap after another. Nyla even figures out who that droid belongs to! "Ruben...That sounds familiar." Jehni'va does note, with that stubborn optimism, that they are /finding/ the traps, not - the screaming suddenly rents their heavy silences and whispered conversations and the pilot's eyes go wide as Dash sets off one of the traps she was just feeling so good about. And it just goes downhill from there. And then bomb. At Yan's sudden urging, the pilot turns to flee - and then remembers that one of them is screaming and caught in a trap. Shit. Proving, once again, that her self-preservation instinct are absolutely infallible, Jehni'va rushes towards the total stranger and begins trying to pry the thing off his arm rather than running away from the /fucking bomb/ - probably only making everything just a little bit worse.
TICK TICK TICK TICK TICK.... tick tick tick.. tick tick... the dead Weequay's briefcase just keeps ticking. It does not explode. Yet. How long's it been ticking? Probably a while. Tick tick tick. It continues to tick. tick tick tick tick tick. It ticks for long enough that the fun wears off of yelling BOMB, like... super anticlimactic. But anyway you'd surely be shielded from the blast INSIDE the SAW IV house.
Dash Rendar is likely very near to the point of passing out from the immense pain that's brought about when your arm gets caught in a bear trap, but then a very strong, Chyna-esque woman comes and pries the thing apart, freeing his mangled limb. "Good on you," he remarks, before shoving her towards the TORTURE DUNGEON. "Go!" he shouts, doing his best to stumble in that direction, as well, good hand clutching at his bleeding arm.
Nyla Forr starts to stand, the scrambled droid still cradled in her arm along with her datapad and a flashlight. Her head swings around in the direction they came, starting to ease back on her heels and... "Jehn?" Nyla wonders suddenly, looking in time to see Dash shoving her towards the house. "Hey!" Nyla yelps and about faces to dash after Dash and Jehn, the droid hugged tightly to her. "What are you /doing/?!" she demands and tries to make a wide berth around the bomb(?).
"OKAY IN!" said Zhu Yan as he dove boldly headfirst through the door into the Saw IV house. Now was probably not a good time to mention that he never watched those movies. The Bryar hit the deck next to him and he scooped it up and returned it to its holster, as he rolled over on to his back before sitting up. "Schuttas," he hissed out, and listened to the ticking and the screaming and the people presumably diving into the house after him. "Man, next time, we send Hex to check for traps!"
Now would be a good time to shove the puppy Jehn brought into this house of horrors somewhere safe - and she'll get around to that... Right after she rips the trap from Dash's arm like the muscular heroine that she definitely has never been before. "I don't know how I did that." She admits as she is shoved along in front of him, mouth hanging agape at her own feat of strength (again - not focusing on the possibility of a very belated explosion) and only now reaches down to grab the anooba and stuff it into that empty duffel bag she's been carrying around. The hellhound is awarded a small space to peek out of, but is muffled and (relatively) safe. "Nyla!" She wants to brag about how this feat of Amazonian bravery and strength somehow makes her super dateable or something, but instead just points at the house with an empty headed grin. "We're going this way, I guess?" Yan's exclamation attests, and she nods again as they enter this... Terrible house that is sure to be the death of them. Jehn is starting to feel a little less optimistic about all of this.
Inside the building, or what's left of it: Much in the same condition as that of the lobby control room below, the monitoring equipment in the upper compartment of this Weather Station is dilapidated and simply non-functional. There are no windows along the wall but the ceiling of the weather station holds a busted out sunroof that the equipment's antenna stick out from, but accomplish nothing any longer. Raim drops often fall through the sunroof now, dampening the floor here, the dark cloudy skies are all that are visible above. Sometimes a Bonadan tortape can be seen waddling through the room on its six legs. Near the stairs back down to the lobby room is a single console with a dirty old control chair sitting in front of it. The console is covered in debris and is lifeless, except for a single button that blinks a dull red every few seconds.
That's the desc for the next room, but we're staying put so that our afk friends will be able to stay up to date. The important thing to note here is that there's no bomb here EITHER, Yan is just the boy who cried bomb twice now. That's one suitcase down, though. Surely there is another one here somewhere?
Dash Rendar limps his way into the room along with the rest of the group and moves to slump over against a wall before the older man slides down it into a seated position. He breathes and goes about digging through his utility belt for a roll of bandages. Tearing off a length of them, he begins to wind it around his bloody arm, doing the best he can to stop the bleeding before somebody has to carry him out of there.
Nyla Forr patters into the house, screwing her face up as she waits to get blown away by a bomb. Nyla tosses a look back and grins. "Hah! Stupid thing probably wasn't even programmed right. What idiot--" The moment Nyla turns back to face her blind run into the house, she's slammed in the noggin by a low hanging beam. She bounces back and lands on her side, not making a sound. The flashlight rolls out of her grip.
Zhu Yan shook the dust out of his hair and slowly clambered to his feet. That incessant red light was still blinking and Yan had to fight down the urge to scream BOMB again. Too many bombs! What in the blue hell was all this crap! "Alright, alright, take f... hang on." With his hand over his Bryar, again, he made his way over to a panel on the far west wall that he'd noticed was slightly ajar. "I'm gonna regret this," he sighed, and pulled the ajar panel away from the wall, REVEALING...
As soon as they're safely inside, and the smuggler stoops to tend to himself, Jehn spots one of the six-legged tortapes and abandons the injured Dash to go say hello... However, the blinking, red light pulls her eye and gives her pause, turning her away from what would have been a great 'handle animal' roll. "Um." The woman's voice sounds weird and strained in the old, abandoned room and she brushes a hand along the layer of dust on the console to better read what is written there. "This is telling us to evacuate." She announces, pointing at that blinking light - but this, probably important, detail takes a backseat at the sound of a great 'thud'. Not noticing the flashlight rolling merrily away, Jehn is at the fallen mechanic's side in an instant (long legs come in handy sometimes) to tap at her face. "Nyla? Hey!" Shit, maybe she'll fit in the duffel bag with pup. "....Nyla?"
Yan's tug on the wall panel leaves it coming away easily in his grasp, and it's not the only one. The wall panels seem haphazardly attached at best, and sections of wall fall away like dominoes once the first is taken. Bonadan is a world plagued by endless pollutants, and this odd room seems no exception. There are four giant cylindrical tanks, two red and two blue, behind the wall. Ancient and corroded, they are hooked up to rotting hoses and pipes for who knows what forgotten purpose. The disruption of the wall seems to have caused them to give up the ghost, however, as now each of them begin to leak. Liquid spills all over the floor, pooling around boots, and mist starts seeping out the top of the cylinders. It smells painfully toxic. But wedged back in there behind the cylinders, there is another suitcase, too bad you have to get so close to the toxic spill to get it. You might be getting the impression by now that business deal or not, the people selling the ore and the people paying for it totally hated each other, and Dashfiance stumbled into the middle of it.
"I knew I should've just sent Leebo," Dash grunts, slowly standing himself up against the wall, hand still firmly gripped around the bleeding, broken arm. He exhales slowly and looks around at the spilling liquid, nose crinkling.
Nyla Forr doesn't move when Jehn pokes her. Her nose twitches, just lightly, but there is already a knot forming above her left temple. She still has the droid in a deathgrip in her arms, though. So there is that! After a few seconds Nyla groans, just barely.
"I knew it!" Yan's shrill cry of simultaneous victory and defeat rang out through the old tower. "Frack I hate this planet. Should never have come back. Sithspit." He carefully put a leg up in the panel, reached forward, and sneezed. The sudden jolt caused his foot to slide off and hit the floor, his body to fall down half a foot, his hand to dip dangerously close to the chemical, and the briefcase to explode into five identical ones. "Guys, I think we've g..." wait, now there was one again. Weird. "Okay we're," SNEEZE! "good. Okay." He reached forward again, sticking his entire torso into the opening of the wall panel, and wrapped a hand around the handle of the case, and pulled. "I swear, I have dealt with more than enough chaos today." Especially now that the liquid was starting to make an even bigger pool.
As toxic gunk starts to ooze out all over the floor, Jehn redoubles her efforts to get Nyla /off/ said floor. She covers her nose and mouth with a sleeve as she gently nudges the downed droid mechanic. "Hey? Come on, hun." She mutters, brow furrowing as the panic starts to set in. "Let's go, gotta go. Blinky is telling us to evacuate and..." She is starting to tear up. Why is she starting to tear up? Terrible ideas suddenly seem like good ones, and she pauses in her emotional assessment of her fallen roommate to spin around and slap Yan on the ass as he dives into the wall for the briefcase. Why the /fuck/ did she just do that? Shit. Struggling, and failing, to lift Nyla from the ground, she reverts to begging her not to be dead and is rewarded with some twitching.
Hex's voice appears on the comm, crackling over a tinny speaker as it does most scenes. "How are you guys lookin' with that money? I got headhunters incoming, and I reckon they might be cranky. Rather have you aboard than not." Ilar'aamla, the baby, can be heard babbling happily in the background, "Ka'ta, schuttakku!"
"Well, you heard the guy," Dash says, jerking his head towards the door and moving it its direction. "Think I've taken just about as much of this place as I can stand," he mumbles, good hand reaching to swing the thing open.
Nyla Forr's head lulls. Bleary and watery, the girl attempts to crack her eyes open but fails. "No, sleepin'..." is probably what Nyla says. It kinda sounds like that, anyways? "Emmie'leep." That was maybe a touch... less clear. No, she does not want to get up. But, hey. Her heel drags and catches on the floor as Jehn attempts to pick her up. Progress!
WHAP! Moment of silence. Then, "Unless your name is Oriana you keep your hand off my ass!" Zhu Yan declared. As he carefully extricated a small case of Uncle Johnny's Speciality Thyferran Pork Buns from the wall, he turned and saw Ori herself slumped but standing against the wall, clutching her arm in pain, fiddling with the exit door, looking like she needed a knight in shining armor to save h... and then he blinked and suddenly it was Dash Rendar. Sithspit. "Anyone else seeing weird shit? I mean, someone clearly thought my ass was Tarion's face or something." He looked at the case of pork buns and noted they were once again a briefcase. "Ohhhhhh this is just like that time I got caught in the gas regulator at Parmac's..." And that thought was interrupted by another sneeze!
"I spanked Yan." Jehn announces back to Hex, despite not wanting to relive that horrifying moment. "Nyla is down and -" She stops babbling, because the moment has passed. She clicks off her comm and stuffs it back to her pocket - they gotta /go/. Swallowing a wave of nausea (literally swallowing it), the pilot falls silent to struggle lamely with poor Nyla. She turns desperate eyes on Dash, first. "Can you - shit, that's right." Arm, injured, blood loss - not the ideal person to help drag anyone anywhere. "Nyla we gotta go!" She begs, slithering herself protectively around the shorter woman as the puddle grows and she tries to gain some leverage to lift her up. "Someone help me with her!" She grumbles pitifully, and then something shifts. "No. I /got/ this." She decides and with the roar of a woman warrior, does manage to do something useful. "I /got/ you." She assures the half-conscious mechanic. "We're going back to the beach after this." JEHN STRONG.
Limping, gimping, tripping, flipping; laughing, crying, not yet dying, and with their precious briefcase of money and/or pork buns in tow, the questionable group of heroes manage to get themselves out of the abandoned weather station o' horrors. Zhu Yan lives in a confusing, sneezy, and ever shifting reality. Dash needs to go flirt with a sexy doctor and get fixed up so that no one learns for long he's a mere mortal. Jehn is STRONG and Nyla wants a nap that's probably medically ill-advised. But they got in, they got out, and they got paid, with the precious briefcase in tow... so all in all, it's a successful mission. Right? Right.
Other than the fact that now two separate groups of people have them on surveillance and have reason to hate them. That won't be a problem later, at all.