[b]Blind Spots[/b]
[hr]

Besk was moving with the rest of his assault element, half of Mir'osik and Shabuir, toward Selas' location. Dislike the idea of a jedi or a wannabe as he did, she'd done her job and wasn't going to fare well cut off for much longer, "Do your best to hold position, [i]specialist[/i], we're on the way to you."  They moved with assurance, stacking up and then moving out again in room-to-room sweeps. They checked blind spots, cleared the corridors and moved to the next bulkhead. Wash, rinse, repeat. They were suited up in Alliance Marine battlearmor, acknowledging the reality of boarding ops; loss of atmosphere was the worst. It wasn't as protective as Stormtrooper armor, but it was also more agile, made for SpecForces.

The disruptor bucked hard in his hands, nothing like a blaster, but it was powerful and devastating in the tight confines of the white-washed corridors. That wasn't made for SpecForces. That was purely illegal fringe weaponry, brutal and mean. The favored weapon of the Hutt Cartels and other factions that didn't give a damn for civilized norms of warfare it had a very distinctive sound. A brutal weapon, for a less civilized time.

Besk drilled his men in this sort of fighting in anticipation of this sort of operation coming down sooner or later, as the Alliance was fleet based. Some of them had been to Drop Camp and SpecForces Marine training, but Besk was a veteran of the Clone Wars. Chakaar didn't get much out of Anaxes; they had to lay up and call down fire support. This time, they were at the tip of the spear. Some of these were Rebel troopers, believers, and others were bounty hunters. 

In other parts of the ship, he could hear the blast of sonic grenades, that unique buzz, and they certainly were being hit with the feedback of it as they moved in deeper.

The resistance wasn't ready for that kind of synchronicity and precision; muscle memory carried them through this series of engagements. Presence of mind allowed him to keep up with the progress of other elements as he gave the occasional directive, but without overloading the comms.

Besk was getting on, but he still had the Jango reflexes and less to lose than most.

But even the violence of action and precision of the assault was held up when they came to a corridor that was saturated with flames, between them and the power plant, or Selas' position. Some smart pirate had flushed something flammable into the corridor and lit a match, making the whole corridor impassible -- not hot enough to melt bulkheads, but definitely hot enough to crisp his men. He gave the signal for the others to hold while he got on the comms.

"Specialist, we have an obstacle. I'm patching the camera feed from my helmet over to you. I am marking fire control stations and airlocks on your map," it helped that he knew Venators first hand, "I need a solution as soon as possible."