Log:TLJ: Crait

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OOC Note: Contains Spoilers for The Last Jedi

The Resistance is on the run. Holed up in a hangar with a blastshield between them and the formidable remaining might of the First Order's fleet, the rebels against the impending domination of the galaxy have nowhere else to turn.

Outside, the sky is a clear blue above the rocky grey cliff face containing the hangar. The white plain spread out before them shimmers dully in the sunlight, and yes, it's salt. Taste and see that the dirt is salt.

Trenches cut into the earth are the only line of defense before the blast shield, a few turrets positioned at either end and in between, and it is here the brave men and women of the Resistance will make their stand in a desperate attempt to hold out for help.

TIEs scream in the distance, massive troop carriers deploying the first wave of the assault, dozens of stormtroopers rushing out onto the flats a few hundred yards away, the ships being wary of the emplaced weapons. Forming a hasty battle-line, the troopers surge forward in an attempt to distract the rebel fire while heavier weapons are being landed. White armor finally comes in handy.

"This is it. We die here, the Resistance dies with us. Make sure that don't happen," Sar instructs to the soldiers gathered in the trench with him. One of them reaches out to have a taste of the planet, noting a quiet 'Salt' before steadying himself.

Sar leans against the trench wall, blaster pistol in hand and blue eyes fixed on the approaching army.

Gren is positioned in a trench, having formed a scratch squad of pilots and the like. He looks none too pleased, poking is head up over the lip of the 'fortification', and looking at men and women that he's rounded up. "This really isn't how I planned on dying. There's no booze, I'm not in a cockpit, and I don't see a Rodian at all." A smirk, and he his own blaster his drawn, and given a quick inspection. "So, I'm not dying. Stick close, and maybe the rest of you won't either."

David's not comfortable. There are many reasons, one being this space is not quite cramped enough. It's pretty cold, too. His current position, back against the trench wall and to the enemy is not great either. At least he trained for this specific position back on D'Qar. Still, as David inspects his sidearm, he has a bad feeling about the battle to come.

The time for battle has come. Hazar is in his element, the young corporal surprisingly calm in the face of his possible demise. Looking down at the rifle in his hands the soldier does a quick double check to make sure that it's loaded. Pressing his back up against the wall of the trench closest to the enemy he twists around and looks over the ledge towards the enemy. A glance is spared towards Sar, "No worries, sir. If I was going to die today it would have been on a transport."

Gunther really has no idea how he ended up here in this trench alongside these particular soldiers. He has had a long life, longer than he probably deserves to have had, and it is with the wisdom of one looking at his life in retrospect that he examines each face down in that trench with him, many of whom look far far too young to be here about to die alongside him. He nods toward Gren and then speaks up in a grunt, "If for some reason we should have to get on the move, keep your eye on the man beside you. If he goes down and it looks like there is hope for him, do what you can to keep them with us. I'm not as young or spry as I used to be.... but I will get to every single man and woman that I can, you can bet on it. If you get hurt, give me a yell and I'm moving to you."

Karas is standing with the others in the trench, he checks his blaster making sure that the power core is fully charged which it is. He takes a deep breath. He is wearing his flight suit, he's comfortable, but this is crazy, but they aren't going down, screw that noise, he will go after the FO with everything he has.

They didn't have much hope. Just a fool's hope. Still, it was something, and inside the comm officers are busily attempting to make contact with allies to call for help. A vertex scampers through the trench, causing localized confusion and at least one errant shot before it scuttles up onto the salt flat in front of the soldiers, its small body jerking into a tense posture of alarm as it stares down the approaching lines of First Order troopers, their bulbous special duty masks hissing.

Abruptly, the crystal critter leaps over the heads of the men in the trenches and hurtles toward the cliffs, leaving red pawprints in its wake. No sooner has the animal moved than, almost as if on cue, the battle formation of stormtroopers opens fire. Blasts of scorching hot energy hurtle through the air towards the defenders, and the battle begins.

The distinctive wail of TIEs overhead fills the air as a pair swing low to launch torpedoes at the hangar's blast shield behind the Resistance troops, sending twin shockwaves through the earth as they detonate uselessly against the heavy doorway.

"Open fire!" Sar shouts as the shooting begins. He ducks out of the way instictively, but soon enough, he's leaned against the wall of the trench, arm outstretched with his S-5 levelled at the enemy. Two bolts are loosed, one flies wide and probably kills a bird, but the other hits its mark, ruining the day of one of the fancier-looking soldiers. He's not dead, but he won't be walking away unscathed. At this point, that's all that really matters.

Gunther's nod is returned, and Gren offers a grim smile. "Just keep your head down, Doc. And we'll be sure to provide you with plenty of work." He leans up over the trench, and levels the EE-3 at the approaching lines of stormtroopers. He pulls the trigger twice, ducking down to avoid the incoming fire. Salt falls down on top of his position, courtesy of the Bombers attacking the blast doors. His own blasts were not well-aimed, and zoom off into the sky.

As the Major gives the "Open fire" command, David lets all air out of his body before turning around. The glint of a blaster's scope helps him decide on a target and he squeezes off two blasts. As the first one hits, the stormtrooper stumbles. Might have saved his life, because the second bolt flies just by him. "Doing my part.." he remarks quietly to nobody in particular.

Leaning overtop of the trench Hazar Jast braces his rifle in a stable firing position, arms getting dusted with the salt surface of Crait. Breathing steadily, the young man searches the battlefield for a target, his sights eventually resting on a Stormtrooper with a fancy pauldron. With a grim little smirk Corporal Jast presses the trigger of his weapon and sends a bolt right past his target. The smile disappears as the Stormtrooper ducks for cover, "Darn it."

Gunther nods around to everyone present in the trench, brothers in arms and promptly does exactly the opposite of what Gren told him to do. He turns around to peek up over the edge of the trench at the waiting wall of First Order soldiers just as they begin to open fire. A blaster shot rockets across the salt plain and blasts through the corner of the trench, slamming into his shoulder and driving the older man back into the opposite wall. His right hand comes up, tugging at the hole in his uniform to check the wound over before he grits his teeth and turns to look around at the others. "Anyone else hit?" he calls out. He spies Karas, the only other that seems to have taken a hit and starts to run over in his direction. "I got you, kid!" he yells out.

As the blaster fire starts, Karas is trying to keep behind cover using the trench to keep him covered, but these First Order Stormies are pretty damn good, one is able to clip him along his shoulder burning through his flight suit. HE's knocked back a step, grunting in pain, Karas quickly moves back to his feet using his cover and he quickly fires at the Trooper who shot him, watching as his shot connects and takes him down. "They're pretty damn good shots." he growls.

Finishing getting on the trooper gear, Triz checks her blaster pistol one last time as she finds a place in the trenches. Carefully she peers up over the edge, the bottom lip bit between her teeth as she sees the arriving First order troops. "For the want of a good ship," she mutters to her self. "Hell, I'd even take a poor one at this stage..."

As Sar gives the command to open fire Triz once again peers over the edge of the trench. Spotting a good target she squeezes off a couple of rounds. The first clearly missed but her second hits center mass and the Stormtrooper folds over in a smoldering heap.

(Meanwhile, on the other side of that blast shield) Somewhere in the rear of this cavernous death trap, there's movement stirring where once was only silence. Ambrosia's come out of her drug-induced stupor and has opted to put forth her best self if this is to be her tomb. Like her ancestor, Jera, interred in a cave for 1200 years. The bent and battered ring swings free from her neckline as she bows and tugs at armor plating, stripping all but the breast plate. Her hair is let free from the failing braid and combed a few times through with fingers. It won't be in the way for long, she suspects. May as well end her days as a rebel the way she began them. Unfettered and free.

Gloved fingers slip between arcs of chrome, then the metal knuckles are snugged into place. A tug cinches the smaller knife to her thigh and pat ensures the pistol is secured in holster. For her primary weapon of choice in this ceremonial standoff, she draws a more elegant, slender piece from her belongings. It is a sword, cut from crystal and as lovely as it is lethal.

It was a gift, from her boys. Only fitting she should use it now.

Surer footed steps scuff over the grit of this abandoned outpost floor and come to rest a small ways off from the General, taking up a post between her/company and the blastshield. A guardian of last resort, Kath Hound, faithful to the end. One old bitch to guard another. There's no need for words. Only waiting.

Even as the fight begins to rage in front of the hangar blast shield, the transports out on the flats are lowering massive engines of war, walkers that dwarf the iconic AT-ATs of yesteryear with their lumbering simian slouch. Both sides trade volleys, the Resistance with desperate intensity, the First Order with a sense of ferocious inevitability.

The odds are stacked, and everyone knows it.

CHOOM. CHOOM. CHOOM. The old Rebellion turrets pump out fire towards the transports in the distance, blowing the wing off of one. With curious grace, the walker attached tumbles from the sky, landing with a far-off crash of twisted metal. Howling down, a TIE launches a torpedo directly into a turret, sending a gout of flame reaching high into the sky.

In the middle of the line of walkers, several transports swing low all together to park a massive, crawling machine that resembles a giant jet engine.

"We need pilots!" A call goes up from the rear as maybe a dozen janky snow ski speeders go hurtling past, streaming towards the walkers and the cannon. Technicians, with a few more speeders, prepped and ready to fly. "Come on, strap in!"

"Delede, Ironside, Dermout! Go!" Sar shouts at them, before popping up over the side of the trench and firing again. Again a shot goes wide, but this time one of them smacks straight into one of the Lieutenant's head.

As he's barking orders, a bolt skips off the ground in front of him, sends a plume of salt into the air, and smacks into his arm. He stumbles back, clutching at it and looking around to make sure Maeve didn't see that.

Gren's head whips around at the sounds of approaching speeders, and the collection of idling vehicles. A frown, and the Major hops up out of the trench(Not because Sar tried to tell him to). He turns to take a pair of shots at a squad of bucketheads, burning down one NCO, and knocking the other down with a blast to the leg. He jogs up to a speeder, and gets all set to climb in, but before his ass even touches the seat, there is the sound of an internal explosion, and the whole thing just collapses. He barely manages to jump away, and roll into a ball on the salt. "Damnit."

Leaving his position, David calls back "Yes sir!" as he heads into one of the tunnels leading back into the base behind the heavy blast door. Finding the ski speeders ready to roll, he quickly climbs into the cockpit of the nearest one. "This is more like it!" He exclaims, glad to be back where he's comfortable. As the speeder barrels through a corridor, a hatch opens and allows it to pass through. Pulling the control stick back, David manages to slow the descent and land gingerly on the newly extended ski. It also allows him to do a little hop over the trench without knocking anyone in the back of the head. Clear of the trenches, Dave takes a few shots at the walkers. His bolts hit an AT-ST right in the chicken knees, causing the legs to buckle and the cockpit to smash into the ground.

The pilots can do their thing. In the trenches, with the enemy in front of him and no retreat, that's where Hazar Jast belongs. As rounds fly past him he ducks out of the way for a moment, just long enough to center himself before he returns fire. It takes but a moment for the young soldier to line up a shot, this time aimed at a different pauldron wearer. The bolt fired rips through the center of the Stormtrooper's helmet and sends him twisting to the ground, unmoving.

As Sar gives the command to go Triz doesn't wait for it to come a second time. She is up and running, easily leaping on the small snow ski speeder. A twist of the throttle sends her off in a blur. As she passes the front line troops of the first order she quickly snaps off a round at the nearest stormtrooper. A hit as she blurs by and then it's on to the nearest walker. A line up and a fire, a hit but the thing keeps going. She twist the ski about, planning to go after it again on her next pass.

The sliding of boots on salt precedes Gunther skidding to a halt as near to Karas as he can get without slamming into the guy. His eyes squint as he focuses on the soldier's wound, his hands busy pulling open the flap of his medical satchel and beginning to tug out supplies. "It's alright, kid. You took a pretty hard hit, but papa Gunther is going to do what he can to keep you moving. You can thank me later, alright?" he growls at the man before pulling a loaded syringe from inside his satchel and grasping the plastic cap in his teeth and pulling it free of the needle. He spits it out to the side and then stabs it into Karas' arm, explaining, "A bit of pain relief should keep you from passing out on us. I'm going to put in some medical glue and then slap a bacta patch on it and you should be good for an hour. If this goes on longer than that we're all in trouble." True to his word, he begins squirting some super glue into Karas' blaster wound, then slaps a bacta patch over it. When he pulls away, he has blood on his hands.

Having seen the other pilots leave and being called to get into the air, Karas quickly joined the group. The Ski-Speeders are some of the most jankiest ships he's ever used but he didn't care, they needed to be out. Starting up the speeder, it coughs but than comes to life. Shaking his head, he quickly brings up the systems and he launches. The ski-speeder rockets out of the hanger and forgetting to drop the stabilizer leg, Karas veers suddenly and as he does he starts to loose control and because of this, he slams into a Stormtrooper, who is if he could see the face giving Karas a 'What the fuck!' look. Quickly pulling out his blaster, Karas tries to shoot the trooper but his ship slips right and he misses as he fires.

The walkers escorting the supercannon begin to fire on the snow-ski speeders as the salt spits up around them in flumes, leaving blood-red trails behind. One by one, the speeders begin to go up in smoke. The original dozen are way out ahead of the fearless crew of PCs, Finn, Poe, and Rose among them.

Still, the troopers on the ground continue to exchange fire, and though their ranks are thinning, their immediate purpose is almost up. The Resistance soldiers have been falling as well, and the shouts and screams of pain and death are thick in the air from both sides.

A black shuttle hangs, batlike, over the supercannon. The weapon has begun to charge.

<<We're taking heavy losses,>> comes a voice over the comms. <<The message has been broadcasting for some time and no help has responded.>> Another turret goes up in flames as a missile impacts the cap of the structure.

"Open fire on that...whatever that thing is!" Sar says, gesturing to the big cannon. He releases his grip on his arm and looks over to Gunther, saying, "Patch yourself up, Doc. While you have time." The Major lifts his blaster and fires twice, sending two NCO-types spinning to the salty floor.

Gren hauls himself to his knees, and turns toward approaching Stormtroopers, and squeezes off a few blasts. At least one goes down. It gives Delede a breath, and then he's running across the salt, red blaster bolts following him. He drops back into the trench, stumbles, and bounces off of the opposite wall. A shake of his head, and he's finding his way upright, once again. He's not far from Gunther and Sar, and his flightsuit is a MESS.

Sliding past the wrecked walker, David aims for something bigger. There's a huge lumbering walker, David can't identify it. That doesn't stop him from targeting it though, as the ski trails a red line behind his speeder. David squeezes the trigger, barely causing a scratch on the walker's fist-like front leg. The blast is close enough to the ground to cause a cloud of red surface dust to explode up though, and David takes the opportunity to turn left and position himself for another run at the First Order.

The guy Hazar missed before resurfaces and the young Resistance trooper spots the fancy adornment on the Stormtrooper's armor. Hazar aims down the sights at this man and lets off another blaster bolt. The First Order trooper fails to dodge this time, catching the shot in his side but not dropping. "Son of a gun," mutters Hazar as he sees the man survive to duck for cover yet again.

Gunther watches Karas run off to join the rest of the pilots, then turns back to look at who is left with him in the trench. As Sar yells out to him, the old timer hustles across the distance separating the two of them, then slings his back up against the wall of the trench beside Sar. He looks to the hole in the shoulder of his armor, lifting his right hand and sticking two fingers inside the singed fabric. He grits his teeth as he roots around in there before shaking his head and pulling his hand free. "It's not too bad. I've had worse cuts on the tip of my -" A sudden crash of blaster fire at the edge of the trench causes the old man to break off crouch for cover. He pops back up quickly enough and looks over at the wound on Sar's arm. "Need me to take a look at that or are you okay?"

As Triz was about to swing back towards the walker she had hit on her first pass she spots the black craft over a weapon of some kind. "That doesn't look good," she says as she banks the snow sky speeder back round. Taking a long shot she fires off a round. The time it takes for the laser to strike causes a second of worry due to the distance but then a broad grin as spots the trail of smoke and the weapon's stop in it's tracks. "Yes, yes yes," she exclaims with a fist pump.

The stormtroopers are all but on top of the trench now, and only one of the turrets is still firing, CHOOM CHOOM CHOOM. <<That weapon is almost fully charged!>> someone yells over the comms.

Beneath the hovering shuttle, the supercannon, despite one smoking anchor, continues to glow more intensely with every passing second. The other supports adjust to correct the damage from Triz's unexpectedly good hit. <<Call off the speeders. Full retreat. Everyone get back behind the blast shield, if we're all dead, there won't be anyone left to save.>> There seems to be some confusion out ahead, as one of the speeders keeps going while the others peel off, sailing straight into the path of the gathering beam. Abruptly, one of the others crashes into it. Anticlimatic, huh?

Back at the trenches, the Resistance soldiers, the few that are left, have begun to scramble out of the trench, heading back towards the hangar. In the air above, a YT-1300 has engaged the TIE fighters, drawing them away from the battle. Maybe there was a chance after all-

The pulse of energy unleashed from the cannon sends a ripple through -everything-, and at the end of it, the detonation against the blast shield door on the hangar leaves a gaping, smoldering breach of red hot metal.

"I'm fine. For now," Sar answers, Gunther, taking a second to crouch down in the trench. Even the hardest man can only yake getting shot at for so long before taking a break.

"Everybody, through the doors!" Sar shouts, ducking beneath another barrage of fire. "Go!" he adds, climbing out of the trench and ducking/running his way toward the base, stopping on occassion to fire. Another lieutenant goes down thanks to Major Yavok.

It was in that desperate, final moment that Luke appeared. As the dust settles around Leia's Resistance, he steps out of a break in the rocks, immediately heading for his sister. A sweet, private moment is shared between them, before Luke curls something into her hand and leaves her side. But not before giving Threepio a wink.

His steps carry him past the retreating soldiers, few of whom, he assumed, would recognize him. With Craits glaring sun upon his face, Luke steps into the open.

He could give them time.

As the call to retreat into the base comes, David clenches his fist. He'd just started a new attack run and it'd be actual suicide to break off now. He has every intention of obeying the retreat order after this, so make it count. Targeting another AT-ST, he pulls back the control stick, lifting the speeder off the ground. As it's ascending, he squeezes the trigger. The two laser bolts blow a hole in the walker and it stops advancing. Allowing himself a little cheer, he levels the speeder and turns it around, careful not to get in the path of the dangerous laser.

"You heard the man! Move, people, move!" Hazar, in his position as a non-commissioned officer, backs Sar's orders with his own in case anyone thought about hesitating. Before running out of the trench himself Corporal Jast takes one last shot at the enemy, knowing it likely won't do a lot of good but hoping that it will ultimately prevent at least one of his men from taking a round.

He hears the command to run back, Karas is struggling, but he's pushing himself, he does see that Troopers are closer than he expected and as he tries to fire off two shots, he misses as the Trooper ducks and moves out of the way. Karas is running and limping, his flight suit is damaged and blood stained a bit, some of his suite is burnt due to the crash. Still Karas is pushing as hard as he can, he does make it back though he's near the main entrance, breathing hard and the FO is right behind him.

Triz hears the recall over her comms. Just as she was about to line up another shot on the strange weapon. But orders are orders so she flips the speeder back around and with full throttle screams back to the base. As she passes through the front lines of the Stormtroopers, the lines that just recently were the front lines of the resistance, she leans over her speeder and takes a quick shot at one of the white clad troopers. A solid hit and then she is past, heading back into the cover of the shield.

And so they've made it through. After the last of debris has settled, Ambrosia picks herself off the floor and stands to witness the smoldering hole punched through their defenses, the silhouettes of her comrades scurrying back in, and the figure of the very man they've been trying to find for so long, strolling by. She passes a look back to those behind her, brow raised. When the /hell/ did he get here?

There is a moment of silence from the First Order army assembled as the lone figure steps out onto the salt fields. The stormtroopers stare dumbly, an AT-M6 shifts its foot, and inside the shuttle above the weapon, something the defenders can't see is happening.

Abruptly, every walker, every trooper, every weapon on the field centers on the lone man striding out of the hangar. A torrent of blaster fire is unleashed upon him, salt and red rock flying into the air in a veritable cloud of debris. More and more rains down, until a crater must surely be forming, and the fire stops. The dust begins to settle.

Sar Yavok makes his way deeper into the hangar, bleeding out of his shoulder. Sliding his pistol away, he reaches up and pulls the helmet from his head, the seal hissing as it breaks. Taking a deep breath of un-filtered air, Sar looks around, asking, "We found a way out of here, yet?"

David presses a button in the speeder causing the canopy of his cockpit to raise up with a hiss. As he climbs out, the canopy comes crashing back down as the hydraulics give out. The young pilot has enough sense to forego the climb and jumps off the side of the ancient death trap, regrouping quickly with the rest of the remaining Resistance.

"There's gotta be a way out of here, sir" Hazar Jast replies to Sar as he looks around the interior of the hangar again, slinging his rifle so that it hangs down in front of his body. Then he pauses. Literally stops moving. "Where did those sharp little animals get off to?" He strains to make out which direction they headed in hoping against hope that he might spot some sign of an exit.

Dressed again in that version of winter gear that must have come from a nice, glossy, civilian magazine long before she set foot on this planet, Maeve Zavir is carrying her medpack in one hand and moving among the resistance personnel who are still within the hangar. Echoes of voices raised in alarm or awe bounce oddly in this place and she zeros in on Sar once she spots him making his way deeper into the hangar. "What did you do to your shoulder?" she asks in a low voice as she reaches his side. "Hold still," she examines his shoulder and sets to work on the spot.

Karas is able to get inside the base, and as he does, he blinks as a man walks past him. Quirking a brow, he doesn't remember seeing this man earlier at all or on the transport ship....he quickly goes to where the rest of the Resistance is. He looks back watching the man and as he watches he sees the walkers firing, "What the hell is going on?" he asks as he finds David and Triz and stops near them.

Triz makes it back, barely, to the hangar. Doing all her pilot stuff to stop the speeding ski. It finally comes to a halt as it rubs along one of the sides but Triz has already bailed off and ends up skidding on the floor. Tuck and roll only worked for the first roll then it was all panic skid. A moment as she lays there, making sure that everything was still attached and working, she gets up on her feet gingerly. "If we got a way to get out of here I would say the time is now," as the echoes of blasts reverberate through the chamber.

Luke comes to rest a good distance away from the base's new entryway. Black boots settle gently on the white salt around them, and his cerulean eyes shift towards the hovering command ship. He was looking for his nephew, in the way his eyes scanned. More than that, he wanted to ensure his Ben Solo saw -him-. All there was to do, then, was wait and see how Ben would great the old man.

Another moment of indecision from the First Order when the barrage appears to have had no effect. With a thrum of energy, the shuttle drifts forward towards the hangar and the man out in front of it, setting down in the salt. The ramp spills open with a hiss and a cloud of steam, and a man in black, his hair blowing in the breeze, stomps down it, shrugging off a cape as he goes. "Did you come back to say you forgive me?" Kylo demands, spitting the question at his former master. "To save my soul?" His hand reaches for the lightsaber at his belt, ripping it free and igniting the characteristic blade, preparing to rush at the last Jedi.

In the hangar, a Vertex, aka Crystal Critter, emerges out of nowhere and stares directly at Maeve for a long moment, caught in a moment of curiosity and fear, before abruptly taking off down one of the side tunnels. None of the others that had infested the hangar previously are anywhere to be seen.

Despite the return of human chatter to the hangar, Ambrosia can't help but to notice the yipping and shrill whines formerly reverbrating around in here have simply disappeared. She passes a curious glance around the interior, feet rooted in place for now. Where'd the critters go? Better not be tearing up her stuff. Frickin dogs. It takes a minute for the next thought to kick into line since she's a little preoccupied watching the firestorm pelt Skywalker outside, but eventually the lightbulb goes on. The crystalline foxes hadn't gone out the front, so that means...back door!

"Yeah, you hearin' it, too?" she finally moves away from her station after hearing Jast coming to the same conclusion. "I'll check over here." Because maybe they missed a crack or tunnel or some such when they first disembarked.

"Same as usual, Doc," Sar answers Maeve, grunting as she goes to work on his shoulder. "It hit me between the plates," he adds, peeling one of the durasteel bits back to reveal the scorched skin beneath it.

He spares one more glance out of the door to the big damn hero that is Luke before he turns to follow after the crystal critters, making sure to drag Maeve along.

David follows along, his blaster drawn just in case. Apparently there's a Jedi on their side now? Has to be, he was still standing there when the thick red dust cleared. Moving with the group to the back of the base, he can hear faint jingling, like chimes in the wind. "Where'd they go? I can hear them, but they're gone."

"Yes ma'am," Hazar replies to Ambrosia on the subject of the crystal critters. That's when he spots the last one remaining, the one glaring at Maeve. "I got one!" Corporal Jast exclaims as he starts off towards the beast, hurrying to catch up with it. As it squeezes through a bunch of rocks in the back of the tunnel the young man seems to deflate, "Darn it!" With a forlorn look upon his face he looks back for other people, hoping someone has an idea.

Maeve Zavir only looks up again after she's done treating Sar's shoulder, spotting the Crystal Critter and exchanged a startled moment of curiosity with the Vertex before it bolts again. "Where are they going?" she wonders in a low voice and digs her heels in when Sar tries to drag her off. "Hold on, there's other people who need help," she waves a hand in Karas's direction and slips her hand from his to make her way towards the other wounded pilot. "Hey," she says to the pilot once she reaches his side, "let me help with that?" she gestures to the visible damage she can see to his shoulder and right arm, frowning as she wonders, "Did you get shot too? That's insult to injury. Steady now while I do this," she advises.

Karas stops when Maeve comes to help him, though as she begins helping him, he unzips his flight suit and pulls his arms out where he was hurt. There are bacta bandages but already bloodied and there are now burns along his arms and sides of his ribs. He grunts a bit, "Yeah, it wasn't good, but I'm still here." he says looking to be in pain, but still moving. He can't do nothing more but push on. He does notice that the crystal critters are leaving out through the back, "Once you get me patched up, lets help get everyone out of here." he says to Maeve.

A shrug is given to Karas as he asks what is going on. Triz is about to say something but then everyone mentions that the critters have gone. "They have gone. There must be a way out then." She dusts her self off and eyes the damage that is shown as Doc Mae tends to him. "Just get better," and off she goes to find out what the other's are doing.

Luke's eyes follow Ben as he approaches, and his weight shifts slightly on the salt in preperation of the attack. "No," Luke says, his head shaking only slightly, "For mine." Regret tinged Luke's words, but it was out of their reach now. Apologies, and regret, existed beyond the rift that had formed between them. It would be the second time Luke would hold his saber against their beloved Ben Solo. Whether he believed, at long last that Rey may have been right, wasn't for other minds to know.

It only takes a moment for Luke's hand to find Anakin's saber. Without hesitation, it comes to life with a snap-hiss, bathing Luke's side in cerulean light. He was ready for him.

The MIllennium Falcon had run off a whole host of TIE Fighters and disposed of every last one of them... as it does. It blasted out of the sub-terrainian levels of the planet and rocketed around with its powerful engines propelling it up and around into a return dive toward the rocky mountainside.

Within moments the freighter has landed in a clearing, sending salt and red amirite minerals away from the vessel in thick clouds.

The ramp lowers and Rey rushes out from inside the ship. Staring at the tracking device that she'd been setup with, she rushes toward the canyon wall... they're here, they're supposed to be here!

Rey's eyes close, she takes a moment to clear her mind and search with her other senses...

Her right hand reaches up toward the cliff-face. Toward the rocks that she'd seen one of the crystal fox's slide out from between.

The massive boulders quiver, shake, rumble and... rise. She wasn't sure how she was doing, but she focused and shifted the rocks toward the north, then settled them down against the mountainside.

Rey looked inside the dark tunnel, standing there at the foot of the Falcon's boarding ramp.

Circling back around when a blur of something white jets past, Amber comes up slow on its heels, hanging back to watch Hazar make the disappointing discovery. Aw, hell. A long look goes back over her shoulder to the blasted blast shield and the showdown she can envision, if not see taking place. "Kill'im," she whispers softly to self, then eyes the pile of rubble with the most unenthusiastic feeling she can muster. "Everybody grab a rock." Nevermind that most outweigh Chewbacca.

Except then the rocks start to move themselves. The Colonel is dumbstruck. One hand lifts to finger the ring hanging 'round her neck. Surely ancestors don't intervene.

The red blade in his hands sputters with infernal fire, casting him red. The earth beneath his feet is red. The salt has been cast back around them in a wide burned swathe of red. Red blood blends in with the ground. Kylo's eyes dance with the red flame as he stares down the man who was his uncle. A small voice clamors in the back of his mind, but the rage is there and the rage is strong, and he channels that instead.

Sure feet carry him forward with a wordless shout, lashing out at his former master. The wicked blade blazes with fury, tinting the air with the scent of scorched ozone, but it sails harmlessly past.

The rockslide that had been barring what's left of the Resistance's escape has been cleared, leaving Poe, Finn, Leia, and the rest free to escape while the confrontation out in front of the hangar continues.

Doubling back to help the wounded and the doctor onto the Falcon, Dave gives one last look back to the massive hole in the blast door. Even the presence of a Jedi won't stop the First Order for long. David picks up a wounded soldier, supporting his body with an arm slung over Dave's shoulders. They quickly make their way up the ramp and he finds a place for the soldier to rest.

When told to grab a rock Hazar Jast leaps into action, about to lays his hands on one that looks at least somewhat moveable. But then something happens and they begin to move of their own accord! The young man steps back a few feet, staring in awe at the sight. But he doesn't waste a lot of time being rendered mute by the scene, "Alright people, let's get this show on the road!" Gesturing for the others to lead the way through the newly cleared tunnel the young NCO doesn't continues barking, "Hurry up! The First Order isn't going to wait for you." He waits for the rest of the warriors of the Resistance to make their way through before following behind them.

Maeve Zavir grins suddenly at Triz, "If anything will know the way out, it'll be the critters that already live in here," she says before closing up her kit again and nodding to Karas. "That's the plan," even as she's aiming a wary look toward the remains of those blasted in doors and out to where the confrontation of a generation is happening. Few fights are more bloody than the fights within family, that's for sure. The look of awe on the doctor's face is almost comical and she'll remember to apologize to Sar for making fun of his statement that Kylo was using the power of his mind to throw him up into the trees like a sack of laundry. "What about the critters, those Vertex, will they be ok?" she wonders as she hurries through the displaced rocks and aims a started smile at Rey before hurrying up the ramp into the Falcon.

Karas rolls his shoulder a little bit and quickly zips up his flight jacket. Upon hearing Amber tell them to start lifting rocks, to get out, Karas was already moving to one side as one of the Vertex climbed through the rocks. "Lucky." he smirks. Still their situation pressing upon them, Karas starts to lift a rock when he hears them moving, thinking that one of the rocks he just touched may have shifted the others, he stumbles back and looks upon dumbfounded as the large rocks and boulders are moved. He looks out along with the others watching as Rey was standing there, 'Two jedi.' he thinks. Seeing the others standing like he was until goaded to move, he runs as well, "It's real." he says more to himself and he quickly rushes to board the Falcon, helping anyone who was injured as well, they all had to get going.

With a nod "You got that right, Doc," Triz says with a nod of her head. "I am sure they will be as soon as we get out of their way," she answers Mae's question about the critters. As the rocks get moved, how she has no idea but not stopping to ask, she goes about to help others.

With an arm slung about a wounded Resistance trooper, Triz helps the young man hobble through the rocks and down to the Falcon. "You got it, just a little bit further," she speaks to him softly. Up the ramp she helps get him settled before she goes back for others. No man left behind and all that stuff.

Greystorm Sr isn't about to take orders from some kid, nor is she completely sure how she feels about the miraculous escape route. Waiting until plenty of other bodies have had a head start, she hangs back to escort the General, sword still held in one hand, blaster half drawn in the other.

The view on the other side couldn't possibly be a more welcomed one, though. Eyes squinting against the glare reflecting off salt and hull alike, she holsters the pistol, sheaths the sword, and cracks her lips into a smile in spite of herself and sorrows. A silent nod goes to Rey and once inside, a small shoulder bump against Chewbacca in passing. As close to a hug as anyone's like to get outta the old ice queen.

Age had set upon Luke's old bones, but he still outmatched the Young student. As Ben rushes forward, Luke takes a step and lets his leg slip forward, lowering his center of gravity to slip, miraculously, below the arcing blade. As Ben follows through, Luke rises back to his feet, and the saber is brought again to his side. He settles into a readied stance again, preparing for the student as, in the back of his mind, something clicks into place. "I failed you, Ben. I'm sorry."

A moment of confusion passes while Kylo realizes the old man's still got it enough to dip all the way under the slash he just aimed at him, and the dark warrior whirls back around, the blade pinwheeling expertly in his hand with a gibbering crackle before he steps forward again, using both hands to direct a vicious cut across his former mentor. "Ben Solo is /dead!/" he barks, punctuating the attack, and the backhand swing that follows. "Just like the Resistance! Just like /you./ And when I kill you, I will have killed the last Jedi!"

Luke's face softens a bit. "No," he says, as the blue light from Anakin's lightsaber dies in a soft squeal. Luke's posture changes, as well, as he embraces what needs to happen, in this moment. "Strike me down in anger and I'll always be with you," Luke says quietly, meeting Ben's eyes with his own, "Just like your father."

The lightsaber in his hands vibrates in and of itself, but his hands are shaking too as the young man stares down the old, his lips pressing slowly into a thin line.

Voices flash through his mind. A father's voice. His own. 'Will you help me?' 'Anything.' 'He would have disappointed you.' Indecision. A starry night. Cool air at the door. A flash of green. Fear, anger.

His jaw sets like a stone, and Kylo sprints at the Jedi, his weapon held at the ready. His body twists with practiced precision made sloppy by his fury, and another wordless shout rips unbidden through his throat as he passes the blade straight through the body of his former teacher.

This time, there was no dramatic flourish of robes and cloth. There was no impossible actions taken, despite the equally impossible fact that Luke had not satisfied Kylo's need to tear something in half. Luke turns, eyeing Ben again carefully. His chin drops a bit, and Luke is left wondering if the boy would finally pick up on his final lesson to him.

"No." From the instant his feet skidded through the salt, the effortless pass of the blade, Kylo knew something was wrong. Shaking his head, he turns, poking out at the body before him, watching the blade spit and spark right through Luke's chest with no ill effects. "No, I've won, I've beaten you," the dark warrior insists angrily, not willing to accept the reality before him.

There's no dramatic cut or slice, no piercing of the blade through Luke's chest. Even as the Lightsaber skewers what appears to be Luke, he remains unflinching. He remains calm, even. Luke let's the sight sink into Kylo's head for a moment, before he gives off a knowing smile. It was the final shaming of Kylo from his teacher, Luke Skywalker: even as strong as the Darkness is, victory required more. After a moment, Luke speaks," See ya 'round, kid."

And then, plainly, the form of the old Jedi Master vanishes.