[right][h3]Collab: Lieutenant Satra Maral 975th Special Duties & Drey Rumen [hr] Location: Bridge[/h3] [hr][@Moskau Spieluhr] & [@Fallenreaper][/right] Contact, a commando signaled as a squads worth of weapons pointed towards a new set of figures that moved down one of the adjoining corridors leading to the bridge.” Corporal Drey and his mercs covered the corridors effectively. Their eyes peeled and steps moved with purpose, heading to the bridge. As one merc turned the corner, his blaster rifle went up. Drey tensed as he moved forward to spot the threat. He sighed and pulled the merc’s twitchy weapon downward toward the ground. He turned to the unknown squadron with a single, nonsense word. “Perf.” Tension thick in the air, he waited for a reaction. “Cakes”, came the predetermined reply from the closet commando as he signaled the commandos behind him with a hand still holding the compact blaster he wielded with the barrellel pointed towards the new arrivals and a finger still resting on the trigger. Friendlies. Lowering her own weapon, Maral moved from behind her cover raising a hand peacefully as she stepped towards the newcomers. The countersign had been carefully shared. The risk that the Republic had managed to figure it out was minimal. And they could always use more bodies. Breaching into a bridge on lockdown was rarely pretty. “L. Lokar,” Maral said, using the name she had been provided. It was a plausible enough cover, an unremarkable last name. She paused, giving the commanding officer of other group of soldiers time to identify himself. “Care to give us a hand?” “C. Rumen and yes, I think we can do that,” Drey said, not saying the Corporal out loud. The ship still held security cameras and he didn’t know if they have been disabled yet. “Just lead the way, and we’ll follow. Then we can likely get off this floating piece of metal before something else happens.” “Sorotai, are we ready?” Maral asked as she returned to her former position beckoning the commanding officer and his mercs to follow. Her commandos wordlessly making room for the mercenaries as the two groups of soldiers stacked up alongside the blast door. “Comms are down,” the commando splicing into the mainframe replied. “Count us down from ten, if you please, Mr. Goran,” Maral said, nodding towards another commando that held a detonator in his hand. “10, 9, 8,” the commando began, “7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Fire in the hole.” The dim corridor exploded with light, noise, and heat as the thermal charges expertly placed along the weak spots of the blast door exploded. The heavy blast door itself sailed through the air, tumbling onto the bridge of the cruiser before crumbling into pieces of vicious shrapnel that cut through flesh and metal like Corellean butter. Primed stun grenades followed. Loud detonations and blinding flashes accompanied the Imperial soldiers as they burst onto the bridge. When Drey entered, he went for the nearest body. His right hand gripped the wild punch tossed at him and jerked it to the side, twisting the man to expose his back. His free hand thrusted to the lower side nearest the ribs causing the man to tilt his balance. Drey’s foot kicked out at the knee, forcing the man down. His arm wrapped about the neck as he choked the life out of the target. Meanwhile, his eyes spotted the other mercs start to fire or take down their targets. In the haze, the shapes were hard to distinguish. A blaster pistol shot sliced through landing on one of his earlier mercs. They took the shot into the chest and crumbled, never to rise again. When his target went slack, Drey moved onto the next one. Slamming their face into the console while their back was turned. Taking advantage of the additional chaos that the mercenaries created, Maral and the commandos of the 975th swept across the bridge without hesitation. Navigation systems and state-of-the-art firing computers became cover. Bracing against a chair scorched by blaster fire, Maral took careful aim. With a light squeeze of her finger, her disruptor rifle sent a brilliant bolt of energy smashing into the unfortunate Republic technician she had targeted. She watched as her target was torn apart atom by atom. She waited, tracking another Republic trooper as she tried to reach cover. Firing again, Maral did not need to see that she had hit her mark. She heard the screaming. The haze was fading slowly as the Imperial commandos poured forth. It was only a matter of time. The Republic soldiers were scattered. They were too busy dying to notice that they were being flanked. They couldn’t breath. They could barely see. Maral felt no sympathy. They were weak. The corrupt Republic had doomed them from the start and had sold their lives for nothing. For some force user who’d never understand. For a cause that didn’t matter. Not any more. For a lie. A false peace. Yet another deception perpetrated by the Jedi. Villains ashamed of their own genocide. Cowards afraid of the truth. Arrogant children playing at war. Maral did not feel hatred. A soldier had no use for hatred. A soldier has only to act. A soldier has only to win. A soldier had only to kill. Maral moved methodically, choosing her shots carefully. She moved as her commandos laid down suppressing fire. Expertly shifting from cover to cover. Presenting a target for only the briefest of moments as she fired at the surviving Republic naval personnel. The tide turned quickly. The Republic soldiers fell back as the full weight of the two Imperial military units smashed into them. Pushed into a corner of the bridge, they died quickly. Their cover rapidly reduced to rubble under the increasingly overpowering fire of the Imperial forces. As the battle began to die down, Drey took stock of the damage. Out of the mercs he brought, only he remained. His boots walked over the charred and fallen bodies, his gun raised to eliminate any further resistance. Both allies and enemies were downed, but the battle was obviously one-sided. Most of the corpses were Republic. Drey inspected the bodies, shooting most of them in the head to ensure they were dead. With the bridge secured, the commandos of the 975th went about their work carefully placing thermals explosives at critical locations across the bridge. They would take out all the systems in one fell swoop, leaving only a few minutes of emergency power, gravity, and air. A small detachment of commandos had already infiltrated the engine room. The reactor room would not go quietly in the void filled skies. There would be precious little left of the cruiser for the Republic to study. There would be enough uncertainty for the Sith Empire to handedly place the blame on some marauding band of pirates and mercenaries. Confident in her commandos demolition preparations, Maral turned to the lone survivor of the other squad of Sith aligned soldiers, “Rumens. Your men fought well. A pity they didn’t make it.” “They died in a fashion that suited them. It’s a merc’s life to live in uncertainty and risk. At least they didn’t die like whimpering dogs.” Drey’s voice sounded calm and cold but held hints of respect to the dead. His eyes turned to Maral both in a studying manner and with a hardened expression. One that cried a veteran in combative situations. Maral gestured towards a now open blast door and a corridor past it, “That corridor should lead you to the shuttles. Expect resistance, there’s likely to be some Republic troopers still alive and able to fight. I don’t have any soldiers to spare, so you’re on your own. ” Holding out a hand, Maral continued, “You won’t have much time, so don’t wait for us. If we’re not there when you are ready to dust off, then just leave.” Drey shook the hand offered, his lips curled into a smile. “Understood and happy to help. Don’t die or be late. I have a feeling that things are about to get much worse.” He took the hand and shook it. He didn’t feel the need to explain. It was just a gut feeling he learned to trust. With quick respectful nod, he inhaled then exhaled. His figure vanished down the corridor. Several minutes later, a loud bomb sounded behind him. The metal walls rattled and the lights flickered before they immediately clicked off. Time to wrap up this mission, he thought.