Log:First Order/Resistance: Breadcrumbs, Toasted

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Breadcrumbs, Toasted

OOC Date: December 5, 2017
Location: Space
Participants: First Order: Kylo Ren NPCing, The Resistance: Cotai Da'Hosa, Rake, Rail Onasi, Ambrosia Greystorm, Triz Dermout, Poe Dameron

"Right on schedule," was the message relayed from the scout ship, just a day after it'd been deployed to cruise an assigned stretch of the suspected transport route. It was just one of a few little eyes among the stars, hoping to catch the enemy-abetting ship in action. With no more than a single word of confirmation, the Resistance team deployed to go a'hunting. An assembly of starfighters and small boarding party rose up and away from the Nar Shaddaa canyon and vanished into the dark of space.

So here they are.

"<Nearing calculated interception point>" LC Greystorm cautions from her station at the sensors over the comms. "<You boys and girls ready?>" A pointed look is issued fore-ward to newbie Rail and the hairy Shist, Rake, who are ferrying her boots along on this joyride.

Around the transport shuttle, the Resistance's intended target, six TIE fighters cruise in close formation, a rough cube around the larger vessel to ensure it's protected from all sides. They bear a strong resemblance to Imperial TIEs, of course, but are blacker and have shielding capabilities. The transport itself appears to be an ordinary civilian craft, on the large end of light freighters, rocketing along on a chunky but slow sublight drive toward its destination.

There is a scolding sound from BB-8 as they approach the exit vectors "I'm Awake!" Poe says as he jolts up a little bit and says "I swear Bb-8 you don't need to make the alarm noise quite so ... alarming." he rests his hands easily on the flight stick and moves his head from side to side before saying over the coms <Alright Spark 1 lets keep it tight and make them wish they'd never been born.> As Black 1 exits hyperspace the s-foils of the x-wing open up to attack position. <Spark 1 Stay on my wing... lets take em quick.>

Bringing up her system to an active scan after coming out of hyperdrive Triz gives her belts a last tug on them "Ready, Tin? Set compensators to fifteen, set S-Foils to deployed and charge up the Taim and Bak. <<"Spark one ready. Scan shows six bandits. Ready when you are.">> Mean while Tin has been setting up her ship as instructed and beeps when completed.

Cotai Da'Hosa sits in ones of the strap in crew jump seats with the boarding party. The Bothan leans back and curls her clawed fingers around the straps that web across her chest, her ears pressing up against the back of the seat's padding. She's in standard Resistance gear, the thick jump suit zipped all the way up to her whiskery chin. Cotai flips her large ears around, waiting on cues from the other boarding members around her.

"Yes sir," Rail answers Ambrosia, sitting in co-pilot's chair. Keeping an eye on the sensors, "Warrant Officer, I've got eyes on them. Powering up guns, now." He taps a few commands in and the turrets begin to spin up. "Ready when you are."

Rake mutters. "Just call me chief, kid," the Shistavanen says in his usual gruff demeanor. "An' remember, this ain't no damned X-wing an' I'm too damned old to be a fighter jockey." Damn he missed his personal bird, but the MRX-BR was too damned small to carry a contingent of grunts. "Just try to keep us from getting blown to bits."

"<Dammit, Dameron, you were right,>" Greystorm growls underbreath at the sight of a few more TIEs than the initial report reported. And she hates it when Mr Smiles is right, what with his smiles and jokes and...and good hair. He's young enough to be her son, though, so the thoughts stop there. "Hang on to your asses!" She barks aside to the line of /her/ crew strapped into their jump seats. "If you got prays to say, now's the time. No, I won't be your personal mail courier if you bite a bolt, so ask the boot sitting next to you." Because she's busy, tugging on the straps of her own gear and slapping what she hasn't already into place.

One of the buckled troopers starts with a little nervous heel tapping, which earns a hard elbow from the Corporal next door, and /that/ prompts a nervous toot to let slip. It's a fine start to mission morale on board this transport.

<<Resistance scum, by the look of these scans,>> the lead TIE pilot announces over comms. <<X-Wings. Take them.>> With a chorus of howling engines, the TIEs immediately scramble, four of them whirling through space towards the incoming Resistance fighters. Two hang back to cover the transport, wary of the gunship's presence. The four of them careen left and right, trying to maneuver around the X-Wings and bring their targets into the center, streaks of green plasma racing out towards them.

<"Lets light em up sparky!"> Poe pushes his thrusters full throttle and the X-wing launches itself toward the transport. As soon as any of the Eyeballs are in range a stream of red lances emit from the wings of his fighter. The fighter spins on it's axis green energy from the Tie flying past his wings. <"Keep the Eyeballs off of our transport Sparky.">

"<<We got this,>>" Triz says from Spark One. Confidently. "<<It's only six of them.>>" A few switches are flipped and while she does that the targeting info comes up "Thanks Tin. Work out with BB Eight to make sure we don't target the same bandit as they do." Her own BB unit beeps and buzzes. She tucks her X-Wing up tight with Poe's. Trying to give the TIE's only one target for now. But not nearly fast as her shields light up but her own shots fly out. One causes the TIE to light up the second one is missed. ">>I got these two, Boss>>" Triz says as she banks her craft after those two.

The Bothan's nose wrinkles. "Hellsteeth," Cotai groans and pushes her head further back against the padding. Her ears splay out and she glances to the ranks to her left and right. She has her own nervous ticks, most of which are, thankfully, silent. Her lips part and she lets her tongue poke out just barely to pant a few times before regaining her composure. "S'going on?" the Bothan mutters to no one in particular.

"Yes, sir. Uh. Chief," Rail says, looking out the bubble-esque viewport. "Incoming fighters. Opening fire, sir. Uh. Chief." His eyes turn to fix on the targeting computer. BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA. He squeezes the firing nub on his control stick and fires a flurry of shots at the incoming TIEs.

Rake's gritting his large teeth, furry hands clenched on the flight controls. He wasn't a bad pilot, not as bad as he claimed at least. "Light them up if you can, but if you hit one of our guys, I'm gonna kick yer' ass." He wasn't trying to use any of the ship's weapons, focusing solely on flying. "Call me sir one more time and I'm gonna put my foot so far up yer rump the water on my knee will quench yer thirst. I work for a damned livin'." Too much going on for him to pull the old chewed up cigar from his pocket and tuck in his teeth.

While Black 1 and Spark 1 dance with the TIEs that race to meet them, two more X-Wings hang back with the pregnant Resistance transport, keeping pace with momma bear as it advances on the target and Rail's turret firing sprays in their wake. They don't seem to be in a hurry to join the fray quite yet.

Lumbering along under direction of Rake's clenched paws, the Res transport is getting dangerously up close and personal with the supply transport.

"Here," seems the LC's method of prayer was to gnaw on a fresh cig, sans light, for a disgusting three seconds, chased by a quick swig from her flask. One is thrown, the other slid up to the cockpit to do Rake about as much good as the cigar in his pocket. To answer Cotai's question, she grins. "Just a little dance among the stars, engineer. Nothing to fear. Yet."

The whirling dervishes of the First Order protection detail close rapidly with the X-Wings, cannons opening fire, blasting doggedly at the Resistance fighters. One scores a glancing hit right off the bat on Triz's craft, but little damage is done and the 'eyeballs' are having a hard time getting around behind the nimble vessels being expertly piloted by the attackers. The transport, however, is slower, and after one of those poor TIEs is blown up by Rail's cannons, the last one engages, sending a few direct hits at it and rocking the passengers within.

Black 1 bobs back and forth and after the initial head to head pass with the TIEs He yanks on the flight stick sending his fighter in a tight turn to catch the tail of the two fighter. <Sparky watch your six, they outnumber us for the time being.> he flips a toggle on his flight controller so that his cannons fire two at a time <"Lets change that equation shall we!?"> The bursts from the laser cannons aim at different targets The first shots splash harmlessly over the eyeballs shields and the second pair of cannon shots pierce the cockpit of the TIE and it explodes spectacularly.

Triz twists her X-Wing causing Tin to squeek and squawk. She dodges both shots at her but this takes her fighter out of position. "Whew, these guys are good," she says to Tin. Once the TIEs get near her sights she fires, "At least lets keep them awake. Eh Tin?" The unhappy droid sounds a bit put out by the sounds "No worries, I'll get them. Just gotta make it interesting." But sweat begins to trickle down her brow from under her helmet due to the work she is doing. "<<Roger that, Boss. We got this!>>" Seeing the one TIE blow up she grins "<<Nice shooting,>>" she comments over the coms.

"Aye aye, sir," Cotai says with a muffled nod at the answer. "Never been much of a dancer. Fair warning," she admits with a wrinkled muzzle grin. She leans forward, testing the hold on her straps as she attempts to catch a glimpse of the action. Her ears are up and alert as her eyes dart around for context clues.

"If you get us blown out of the sky, it's your ass you're gonna have to worry about, Chief!" Rail shouts, swiveling the guns around. "Going for the shields on the transport." He fires again.

The flask grabs Rake's attention, which causes an evasive maneuver to come a bit late. The ship is rocked as its shields take a hit and instantly the gruff old Warrant Officer has his eyes locked forward again. "Dammit Dameron. I thought you were some kinda hotshot pilot in that fancy black fighter of yours," he grumbles his thumb keying the comm button for a few seconds. "Guess I'm gonna go in on approach. Hold onto your asses." Of course, his vector is a bit off from the start.

"Doshing vac-heads..." the old broad in command of this boarding party gripes openly when her ride gets suddenly rocked by a slap to their shields. "Rake, how close are we to probing this thing??" Because she wants off this ride. Just preferably not through a gaping hole in the hull. And then another shudder and lurch answers her question. The connection is a frail one, but a 'good enough' kind of seal that won't suck the air out of the troopers' lungs the moment they open their own hatch.

"All right everybody up! Helmets, comms on, eyes sharp...feet sound. This ain't gonna be a stroll in the park and don't expect a warm welcome. Move fast in formation and stay on your feet! I'll take point. We neutralize crew, then someone get this engineer into the cargo hold. I got the pilot." While she's giving this last minute talk, a demo guy is up and on his feet, plastering something onto the FO's locked hatch to combat the little lock keeping them out. Once it's set, he scurries back up the run and gives a thumbs-up.

    • BOOM**

It's a bigger boom, perhaps, than anticipated. WTF, demo guy, you are fired, assuming you and Greystorm aren't killed in the blast. On the plus side, the door DOES open.

Rail's stalwart gunnery clears the path to the transport, still slugging along on its slow sublight drive. There's an explosion in the back, and shortly Resistance troopers are sure to be pouring in. When they do, they'll find not an innocent civilian crew but a squad of Stormtroopers in white prophylactic armor.

Out in space, the TIEs circle like buzzards, darting around at breakneck speeds, flying in large looping circles as they try to maneuver around behind the X-Wings, but there's some difficulty coordinating properly between them with the transports in the way, and their shots rip through empty space.

Poe is trying to live up to his reputation this fight. As he flies through the debris of the previous TIE blowing he says over the coms <"Alright two out of six eyeballs down. Keep those eyballs of the transport Sparky and we're good! Spark 2 and 3 be sure to protect our troops!"> Black 1 dips in speed and dives under the transport coming out the other side behind two more TIES. He pulls the trigger and twin lances of energy fly off into space and a second pair splash against the shields of an eyeball.

Triz grits her teeth and grunts as she pulls hard on her X-Wing, bringing it up and over so she lines up the first and fires, scoring direct hits and seeing bits fly off. A grin as she switches targets quickly. Just as she lines up the second TIE it darts off behind the transport and her own shots go wild. "<<Roger that, Boss. I got em.>>" and she turns to follow the pair up and over the transport. So close that it is a good thing that there were no antennas up.

Cotai Da'Hosa 's claws scrabble at the clasps of her jump seat for a moment. She's second to last up, and she pulls on the helmet that covers her ears and the back of her head, her face sticking out of the removed faceplate. It's just then the boom of the demolitions happens and Cotai is forced to lean back as some shrapnel sails by her nose. She growls, lightly, but says nothing as they begin to board. The demo guy /does/ get a look, however. Her vibro sword unsheathes from her belt and she grasps it loosely in her hand.

"Guess it's now or never," Rail says, unbuckling from his seat and crawling backwards over it to spill into the troop compartment. Scrambling back up to his feet, he grabs his gunbelt and fastens it around his waist. He slides the Bryar from its holster and peeks out from the sliding door of the carrier. Swinging his pistol up, he fires a duo of shots at...a guy with a pauldron. That means he's important right? One flies wide, but the other smacks the soldier right in the dome. "I'll watch the gunship!" he shouts.

"Either we're good and docked and safe to roam the ship or we're gonna need to find an alternate ride home," Rake grumbles as he unstraps himself from the pilot's seat and stands up. He grabs his rifle off the back of the seat and then grabs his helmet and puts it on. He was definitely not wearing typical Resistance armor or carrying a Resistance-issued rifle. Looking towards the hatch, he grimaces at the sight of the demo guy. "Well that took guts, maybe we do need a new ride after all. Kriff this one, I ain't cleanin up that mess an' it's likely to start smellin' before we get back aboard."

Then, they're going through the hatch right into a batch of stormtroopers. "Damn bucketheads," Rake says firing a snap-shot from his A280, the sight linked with the optics in his helmet making aiming a bit easier. "I hate bucketheads," he grumbles.

You can't even distinguish the swears coming out of Greystorm's maw as the blast backfires and sends an angry plume of soot and shrapnel bits of what used to be door into the staging area. Poe and Triz may have heard something like this: <<FRZZZAK--KRRRI-K-K>> until the dust settles. Ambrosia unfolds unhappily from the floor and 'accidentally' stubs her toe, twice on the shredded remains of demo guy's leg. It's okay, he doesn't feel it, as those glassy eyes will attest.

Greystorm led the charge with an aggressive rifle round and roar through the hatch at the first helmet she lays eyes on, then they start to file out, shooting and being shot at as they go. "Damn straight, Onasi, GOOD shot! Might make you a Private, yet."

When the Resistance storms the ship, they're met by a rain of blaster fire in true Stormtrooper fashion, a relentless hail of red laser bolts flying fast and furious in their direction. Their sergeant is taken out immediately by Rail, falling with a Wilhelm scream, while the remaining privates continue to return fire indiscriminately, sending all kinds of heat towards the boarding party.

Without, the dogfight rages on, TIEs screaming in fury as they circle and twist, barrel rolling and diving with reckless abandon as their bucket-headed pilots maneuver through the vacuum of space, unleashing a withering blast on Spark 1 as one finally manages to get on Triz's tail.

Things have gotten a little hairy around the two transports. Black 1 is flying past Ties as close as he can making it harder for them to tail other fighters in his unit or making it harder for the Ties to Tail him. <"BB-8 keep an eye on our buddies out there I don't want anyone to be caught by surprise."> the droid scolds him and then he immedietly calls out <"Sparky watch your six you got one coming in hot on your tail"> He makes a snap roll to his right and squeezes the trigger on his flight stick sending scarlet energy into the hull of one fighter and shearing off the pylon supporting the wing on a second. That TIE goes spiraling uncontrollably into space. "One more Eyeball down!"

Ships twisting and turning this way and that all around the transport and freighter. Triz pushes a bit to hard, his shots missing both targets but unknown to her when she went after the second ship the first slipped behind and fired. Her shields flaired and went out and the jolt of the strike makes Spark One shudder. "Damnit! Tin, get on those shield!" She slams her foot down and slews the craft to get out of the line of fire from the attacking TIE. "<<Just nicked me, no problem, Boss.>>" The anger she carries clear in her voice.

The moment the fray begins, Cotai Da'Hosa is hit in the upper right arm. "Sithspit!" the Bothan curses as she sweeps forward in a few bouncing bounds and raises her arm to swipe at the nearest trooper. The man screams, stumbling back and sinking to one knee. "I'm hit," she reports as she makes further in.

Rake stands up to his full height, giving him a decent enough sightline towards the enemy. He lines up a shot and down goes another stormtrooper. "Keep moving, find cover!" he calls out as his augmented eyes are scanning for his next target.

"The hell you doing, Engineer?!" Ambrosia barks into her helmet's com as a fuzzy muzzle goes trotting around in her peripherals. "Fat lot of good you'll do loading that cargo if you ain't got **NNNGH*" It's a delayed response, but her next step forward causes a crackling of pain to radiate from...somewhere. Nerve damage is a bitch, but also a boon? "ARMS!" there. She finishes her rant and drives a second shot home toward the now-faceless one who'd shot her while pressing on toward the fore. Or was it that one? Or that one on the floor? They all look the same! "I'm going to fetch us a pilot," she mutters. "Mop up and somebody watch my six."

One, two, Amby's coming for yoooou....She hasn't lowered the rifle yet, but there is an assortment of other toys strapped to her person, so nothing BUT fun can await whoever happens to be in the Captain's seat.

Someone says something about 'arms', and a stormtrooper takes the opportunity to blast Cotai again, right in the other arm. They don't like Bothan arms. The remaining detail, only a trio now, huddle in doorways and behind corners, taking almost blind shots at everyone else.

The TIE fighters are similarly reduced to a trio, whipping around to tag-team Triz, one drawing her away while the other circles behind, but the shot is blown and misses anyway. The TIE leader, still tangling with Poe, takes the opportunity presented by his danger-close tactics to deliver a heavy hit to the Resistance pilot's shields.

Black 1 Rocks a little as the ship is hit by the TIE leader. <"Sithspit... Sparky I'll be there to help just as soon.."> he Snaps his flight stick to the left and then quickly to the right spinning his ship to try and break away from any pursuit. <"..As soon as I get this Nerf off my rear.">

Triz continues after the one that she badly damaged earlier. Zigging and zagging this way and that, never in a pattern as she hones in on the one TIE that she badly damaged earlier. "Wait for it...wait...NOW" and she pulls the trigger sending blast at the TIE. Followed by a second blast that goes just over the top. "You are mine," she says mostly under her breath. "Tin, how you doing on those shields?" The little droids reply doesn't sound to promising. "<<He's closing on you, Boss. Hit the brakes and let him fly past. They are a sucker for that,>>" Triz says after giving a glimpse outside the cockpit to find Poe. "<<At least we are keeping them off the transport. Hope the folks in there are getting something worth while.>>"

Cotai Da'Hosa ducks behind some machinery. Under her helmet her ears snap back and she glances around her corner. "I can still move cargo, sir," the Bothan pants in a tight voice. She sounds a good mix apologetic and annoyed. But the moment she moves from behind cover another blast hits her hip. The noise she makes is guttural, but Cotai keeps moving forward and striking one of the wounded troopers who is failing to find cover. He falls with only a soft grunt.

Rake was moving and lining up to fire but the trooper he was shooting at was a wily bugger and dodged, dipped, ducked, dived, and dodged the heavy rifle's blaster bolts, which in turn left smoldering holes in the bulkhead. Maybe this wasn't the best weapon for the job, but it was the one he brought. Known for punching holes in AT-AT's, the A280 was one of the most powerful rifles made, and a relic of the Rebellion. It was the scout's favorite gun, therefore he didn't care if it was overkill.

Ambrosia Greystorm says, "DON'T," the old rebel advises to the huddled trooper firing blindly around the archway from their final stand between her and cockpit. To punctuate her point, she twists to the side, instantly regrets it as that familiar OUCH sets in, but fires one final shot, in passing. No more red bolts of energy come searing out of that doorway. Then she's crouching alongside the hatch to the pit and pulls something out of her gear before setting to work tinkering with the control panel for the door.

"Open up and it'll be in your favor," she yells, on the off chance it works and saves her the trouble. "Can't say the same for your friends out here, but...you've got a chance to make this right!""

That leaves one lone Stormtrooper left in the corridor, but he's not about to surrender. "You'll never take me alive, Resistance scum!" he calls in an electronic voice, blasting off a shot at Rake, the one with the giant death-gun killing all his comrades, but it goes wide.

High performance fighter piloting is a taxing affair, and the TIE pilots are beginning to wane in their performance. The loops slow and get wider, the shots aren't as centered. They're getting tired.

<"I'll do you one better Sparky."> The pilot hits a few switches and says "BB-8... we've done this before, I need him to fly on past. Hit the decel thrusters when on my mark." A whistle acknowledges the directions and as the pilot comes around the top of the intercepted transport he yanks back on the throttle and yells "Mark!" the droid initiates thrusters on the front of the craft and the x-wing not only reduces speeds but it stops completely in space. The Tie does indeed fly past him, and as soon as it does Poe pulls the trigger letting out four lances of red energy into the craft as it passes. It doesn't blow but it no longer acts as if it is in controlled flight. Poe shoves the throttle forward and goes hunting for one of the Eyeballs that Triz is chasing <"Lead Eyeball down sparky, I'm on my way to assist.">

"<<Watch and learn, Bossman. Watch and learn,>>" Triz replies to Poe as she darts around a bit of wreckage and there is the damaged TIE, perfectly set up. She pulls the trigger and the first blast takes it out, sending bits flying this way and that. The second shot just makes some of those bits a tad smaller. "<<About time,>>" she calls out over the radio about the one dying. "<<Lets clean these guys out, Boss.>>" And with that she banks her X-Wing over to once more meet up with Poe's.

Cotai Da'Hosa tucks herself back, eyes flicking to Ambrosia as the settle in a stand off. Her hand grips the vibrosword tighter and she presses her shoulder into the wall behind her. Her mouth opens, but she pauses for a thought instead of speaking. "Scum," she spits sarcastically with a jerk of her head. Again she looks to the lead lady for orders.

After missing the bastard, Rake lets out a howl for a warcry and fires once more, this time the blaster bolt cuts the poor bastard in half. "CLEAR!" he calls out.

She's in. Holy scrat, she's in. And with a splattery-sounding crack, Rake's smote the last ounce of ...resistance? Greystorm takes a sec to stare at her handiwork as the blastdoor slides open with a welcoming hiss and savors this rare moment of techno-savvy success. "Onasi, get the ship ready to move, Any of you still walkable, get your asses to cargo NOW and loot what you can. Rendezvous back at our ride in ten. Let the Blacks and Sparks know," she says into her helmet, then takes a deep, savored breath of anticipation and steps into the cockpit, barrel-first, speech already begun as she goes.

"Take one good look at me," she invites, "I'm old, I'm tired, I don't have time for this shit. Now I'm sure you're just some poor scrap that got caught up in all the hooplah they promised you about working for the greater good, but I'm gonna tell you right now, that's a load of crap. You look like a family man...maybe you got a wife and kids. Well.....it's gonna be awfully tough on them when there ain't a body to bury, because your many, many pieces are lost adrift in this vacuum." She pauses, taking the pilot's quivering silence to be a good sign that her intimidation tactic's working and lets the rifle barrel lower toward the floor while one hand reaches to her thigh where her trusty, rusty sports blade is sheathed. "Now I DO have time for that. I'll MAKE time. Maybe I'll do it slow, so you can see a couple pieces float by the window here, first."

"Or..." Instead of grabbing the knife, she snatches a datachit and starts to sneak it into the navcomp port while one arm sorta holds that rifle steady. "Answer my questions, give me the manifest, and we take out off this death trap, drop you somewhere nice with a com, and you can call for a ride home. Your choice, sonny."

Except the pilot is a she - not a sonny - which Ambro can see /now/ and there's a suspicious blinking happening in the nav console. Oh, shit.

"ABORT!!!" LC screams into her com. "Everyone back onboard NOW, this transport is rigged to blow, I repeat, RETREAT!" And then she jerks that hand from navcomp to pilot, siezing the woman by the collar, and making her jerk her clear out her seat and pushes her out from behind. "You're coming with ME,""

The last trooper is dead, but the First Order hasn't played their last trick. The pilot goes along with Amber, discreetly popping something out of her pocket and into her mouth, promptly swallowing it. "We'll see about that," she mutters darkly, right before the convulsions begin.

The last TIE, either by instruction or by desperation, has decided to beat a retreat, no longer flying around the X-Wings. Without a hyperdrive, however, it makes an easy target. Which is odd, until its trajectory at the Resistance landing craft becomes obvious.

Black 1 banks hard over the top of the first order transport and he watches as the eyeball starts booking it for the landing craft <"Not today you slime ball."> he flicks a toggle on the flight stick and all four laser cannons fire at once converging on the center of the TIE cockpit incinerating the fighter craft <"What the hell is going on down there groundpounders?> he checks his scanners and says <"Spakry keep your eyes on your scanners we don't need this to turn into an unexpected ambush.. keep their exit route clear.">

Triz fires just a split moment after Poe. ">>I bet you are going to claim that one too,>>" Triz says with humor in her voice. Humor that gets wiped out fairly quickly as she hears the radio "<<I'm on it Bossman. I recommend we get a bit more space between us and that freighter though. If it blows...>>". She leaves the rest unsaid but turns her attention to the scanners. "Tin, set range max, shift power to the transmitters too." The droid beeps back and does as instructed.

Cotai Da'Hosa waits patiently, checking the positions of the other Resistance troops as she shifts her hand to her blaster without taking it out just yet. The Bothan winces at the scored hits on her. "Krif!" she jolts in surprise as the LC orders a retre... err, backwards advance. She leaps up, ragged, and starts to scramble back. Cotai's injuries, however, cause the Bothan to limp and stagger. But Cotai reaches up, holding on to a cargo-mover arm and almost swinging herself back to safety. She rolls into the transport, smearing a bit of blood on it's entry floor. "M'okay," she insists to no one in particular, holding a hand up weakly.

Rake hears the call to evac and begins to curse in his native tongue, all growls and snarls and begins running back towards the transport. Rushing as fast as his old legs will allow, he slips on the slime that was the demolitions guy, slamming into the bulkhead. Pausing a moment, he shakes his head a bit to clear the stars, then he's off towards the pilot's seat to get this bird ready for as fast a departure as this bucket could handle.

"Copy, LC," one of the troopers radios back, then changes frequencies and announces to their fighters in the air "This ship's gonna blow! EVAC!"

"WITCH!" Ambrosia snarls, catching on only too late to the pilot's self-termination. The convulsing woman puts a hitch in the wounded soldier's brisk trot, to say the least, and becomes a thrashing whop of dead weight that entangles with her stride. The LC goes down, hard, just ten meters from evac. The sorrowfully empty datachit goes bouncing from her fist and skitter-sliiiiides across the floor. Now there are two ladies kicking and flailing on the floor, but it's only Ambro that gets up, staggering. Her run's as graceful and quick as it's going to get now, which is to say - not at all. She's just about made it to the hatch, an outstretched hand grazing the frame, when the first blast detonates.

BOOOOOOOOOM, rumblerumblerumble

The shockwaves jolt and wrench the fragile connection between transports and give Ambro that boost she needed, with a violent, fiery shove. Thanks, premature detonation. She lands alongside what's left of demo guy, quite nearly propelled up Rake's furry ass.