| abstract | - The hazy, battered Cabin of the Trader's Envy is bathed in a flickering dance of blinking lights. Much of the power to the vessel has been cut, leading to the darkened ambience and tense emotions that fill the room. A dull clang can be as the freighter is taken within the Commander of Coins.An eerie silence falls over the room, despite the multitudes of people assembled. Amongst the refuse, blood and food-paste that lines the bulkhead of the ship, Lando smiles - his trademark, confident grin. "Well, well, my Twi'Lek friend. It seems you were wrong, doesn't it? For all your false bravado and egotism, who ended up in quite the position, did you not? Inside my own ship, nonetheless. You know, I will still offer you the option of surrender. I'll be kind." Perhaps that will take the wind out of his proverbial sails. The restlessness plaguing the passengers on the _Commander of Coins_ reaches a fever pitch as the docking pilot executes the final manuevers to bring the _Trader's Envy_ into contact with the SubPro vessel. Time for the action! With luck and perseverance the attempt to rescue Lando Calrissian will become a success, spiriting the decorated war hero to safer space and far away from the clutches of one red Twi'lek. Among the passengers are Johanna, aimless and retired starfighter pilot, and Sabrina, bold and ever-intrepid Colonel with the New Republic Marines. Both have trucked along for this mission mostly out of sheer morbid curiosity, and also because Tyy'sun nearly got the back of his head shot off and spent a good week in a coma at the basilica on Coruscant. Their companions along for the ride are a motley crew of assorted specialists and crazies who would go into Imperial space without question so long as the pay was good. "Here goes the neighborhood," Johanna remarks as they assemble into position to begin boarding the freighter. Tyy'sun Eson snaps through the cockpit corridor hatch as his slides back with a hiss, his face a visage of unbridled rage, blue/grey orbs scanning the damage of his frieghter - the broken pictures, the sparking cables, the smokey air and various debris. Lando's tounge washes over him as surely as did the gambler's shotgun blasts a few days previous. He shoots the man a wilting glare, and reaches under his coat to pull for his own shot gun. "Dont make me space you like I did your little friends, mouth." spits the Twi'lek - he turns with a flair in his preter long coat towards the many crew members gathered, "They are either Lando's lackeys or rival hunters boarding us - whoever they are - I want them to feel the pain of reaching into my cookie jar. They'll not expect how formidable a force I have guarding our profitable old jewel here." he says motioning to the bound Lando. He takes a scan of the entrance hatch with a downcast gaze, awaiting the inevitable boarding party. His mind ticks, and his lekku slither about his shoulders as he ponders the coming battle.. slowly he drops to one knee and raises his shotgun to aim.. whoever is attacking - they will have an unfortunate chocke-point to overcome before controlling his ship. Held securely upon one of this cabin's blast couches, the disheveled form of Silvin Katrar strains forward against the unyielding grip of his wrist restraints. One wrist evidences brutal injury in the form of deep gashes, terribly torn skin and clots of dried, blackened blood. A mess of small splatters and puddles of Silvin's blood remain undisturbed upon the cold durasteel floor as well. "They must have searched the system!" The damaged man's breathless statement is aimed at Lando, though it appears to be rhetorical in nature... voiced thought. Perhaps voiced hope. Hazel orbs, only moments ago lifeless and defeated refocus upon Tyy'sun with a razor's edge. "And so you learn." His voice is quiet and grating, more from the effects of having refused nourishment the past day than anything intentional. "You can't escape your actions now, -gizka-." The droid, Zed, Cooly pushes round after round into his shotgun, even as Lando starts his gloating. The droid may have his quirks but when it came down to business, they were forgotten, and no time was wasted Talking aimlessly. The droid does not even respond to Tyy's little pep talk. Even as The other captives words bounce around he does nothing. The droid just lifts the gun to a firing position, and waits, patiently, motionlessly. His optical visor's usual slow sweep is replaced by a solid band of red as he his on full alert. On one side of the ship cabin is a green-cloaked human, Szaric, wielding in his hands a large cryorifle. Taking whatever cover possible, he waits impatiently, scratching his head. He isn't one afraid from combat, but the wait was killing him. As Tyy'sun arrives, he grins and his blue eyes lock upon the hatch with his weapon ready to fire at anything that may come through. Orbs of silver-blue spread wide as the freightor shakes violently before falling into the grasp of the Commander of Coins. From his seat on one of the Envy's shock couches, Jarek does not exchange words with anyone on board, an occasional glance awarded to Xianna. It isn't until the fate of those seated within starts to become more clear that he stands, removing the AA-8 Shotgun from his back. Meticulously sliding each shell into the gun, Jarek slams an elbow into Silvin's side, "Nobody asked for your input." Shifting his gaze to Tyy'sun, who had since made a hasty retreat from the cockpit, "Is this how you welcome your new recruits?" A smirk washes over his face, fading almost as quickly as it had arrived. "I am not pleased." Xianna laughs cruelly as Lando speaks, already wielding her blaster and quickly checking to see how much Ammo still remained. Whilst she was new to this group she'd taken her time to study their weaknesses, and she was already looking at ways to cover them. Her eyes fell for a moment to Jarek, whom out of all the group she knew the best. She knew, perhaps more keenly than the rest of the group, that he was more than capable of looking after himself. She hoped he knew the same about her. Xianna's face was the very image of coldness. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth closed sharp she began to level out her rifle, a wicked smile soon flicking across her face. It had been a while since she was in such tight combat, but she felt confident. Jarek wields his AA-8 Shotgun. The ex-smuggler turned henchman stands obediently next to Tyy'sun. Once he heard Tyy'sun announce they were being boarded, he had that AA-8 shotgun steady in his hand, aimed at the hatch. Upon Lando's remark, Jaxx would cut him a gaze that would pierce the hull of the ship had it been directed elsewhere. "Shut your trap, Calrissian. I don't know where your ego gets it's feed, but it's starting to pester the heck out of me." He then turns his attention to the other captive, Silvan. "Shut your trap, scumbag. Your not out of the boat yet, not unless I have anything to say about it. His attention is once more directed back to the hatch, though the business end of his shotgun had long since been pointed in that direction. With a quiet motion, he positions himself to get the most out of his accuracy. Smiling smugly in spite of his situation, Calrissian looks at the dishevelled group of misfit outlaws and chuckles. They have quite the gall to speak so spitefully given their current situation. "Tyy'sun, did you not hear me speaking? Do you wish to surrender, or would you rather be blown to pieces. We could reach an agreement - drag you behind our ship, perhaps? It would really be best for you not to go through with this." Taking the calm before the storm as an oppourtunity to plan, Lando looks with an intent eye for those around him. As soon as the help busts through that hatch, they'd be best to get unsecured, and kill as many of these hunters as possible. "So, Tyy'sun. Even if you defeat the boarding party, what will you do next? We are in control. Your Imperial friends have no wish to help you, and you are stuck in the Commander." The pressure equalizes and the hatch is forced open ere the rescue party makes its presence inexorably known as the first figures materialize from behind the faint haze that fills this section of the Envy. "We're not looking to make off with the vessel, our objective is to secure the package and get out of here," the mission commander (one of the crazies) informs the rest of the team, eliciting a mental sigh from Johanna. Her ship-pilfering ways aren't entirely behind her. Almost! But not quite. Of course, they could always just "accidentally" drag the Envy along with them. And indeed, there goes the neighborhood as the first blasts are exchanged between the two forces, Tyy'sun's crew ready to give as good as they got as the ships float over Corellia. It's going to be a race against time if the rescuers wish to escape here before the Empire gets its dirty paws on Lando. "Oh look, Eson is so happy to see us again that he's shooting at us," Joh notes to Sabrina with just the smallest hint of crankiness, eliciting a snort from her comrade as the two pour in with the others, "Clearly a fine time!" Indeed. Plasma and old-fashioned projectile shot soon fill the air with the trademark sounds and scorched chemical smells. A smirk is tossed to Jarek by Tyy'sun at the man's remark about recruitment - "Consider this your interview.." he retorts. To Lando he says nothing - poised for the oncoming assaut. The crimson Twi'lek snarls as the hatch to his ship is forced open and the battle beings in full - explosions rock the air of the cabin as shotgun after shotgun is levied onto the entranceway, blaster bolts amidst shot, smoke and debris scatter in every direction. And Eson's own shotgun blasts away amidst that clamour - projectiles and blaster fire sizzling by the steady Crime Lord. As Johanna's form passes through that fray and onto the ship, the Twi'lek curses to himself, launching himself upwards by the legs and leveling the shotgun on the Jedi. He no longer feels the annoyance with Lando's shouting, no longer feels the pressure of the oncoming threat - no longer thinks about anything as he takes aim and squints his left eye slightly, lekku writhing. When there are no other figures between him and the woman, he pulls the trigger, the gun buckling amidst his frame. A shallow grunt is offered in response to Jarek's jarred elbow, Silvin really in no physical shape at the moment to simply shrug off even that cursory assault. Given his restraints, and the injuries he sustained during his last maddened attempts to power himself free of them, the man can do very little beyond sit and present as little of a peripheral silhouette as possible. A loud report meets with an impact and a discharge of bright green sparks as a stray bolt impacts the bulkhead near inches from Silvin's head. "Fnarking Sithspawn!" he explaims, the shock, weariness and hunger all mixing together in as unhealthy a concoction as Wuher ever prepared on Tatooine. As soon as the presure is equalised, Zed locks the gun against his body. It's only a few moments later that the doors open enough for the first figures of the boaring party can be seen. Zed pulls the trigger on his shotgun, sending the spray of metal shot towards the threshold. At this point he was not aiming at any particular person, simply providing suppresssing fire to the doorway, hoping to injure as many of the attackes as possible before they could even set foot on the ship. As soon as the gun is ready to fire again, Zed fires. As the smoke fills the room he overlays his visual light sensors with infra-red, and it's a technicolour scene he sees. Between the white hot blaster bolts, mini explosions of gunpowerder, and hot bodies, it's all his peripheral processor can do to filter out the worst of the sensory flooding. As the hatch is blown open and chaos quickly engulfs the cabin, Szaric's grin is quickly replaced by a stern and cold face, concentrating upon the task at hand. His eyes quickly dart across the potential targets as they begin to board the ship before picking a particular one. There is no hesitation as he squeezes the trigger of his rifle, releasing a volley of blasterfire towards the intruders. As the pressure equalizes and the hatch is open the Envy rocks lightly, though Jarek maintains his footing. "I take it you lose more applicants than you gain, then?" He quips to the red-skinned Twi'lek, shotgun raising to eye level as everyone's attention is quickly pulled to those entering from the CoC. Complete chaos engulfs every being, a multitude of shotguns and blasters firing at the single entrance. Side stepping towards Lando, Jarek holds back his shots, utilizing the limited shells that would soon hinder the wielders of the more primitive weapon as manual reloading was required. "You're not out of here yet, Calrissian." A split second after the self-named 'crazies' breached thecabin of the Trader's Envy, Xianna began to fire. Taking no time to aim, she was more interested in bringing down as many targets as she can. Perhaps not the best idea she thought to herself as she hit a number of wires, blinking out even more lighting. Pausing momentarily she decided on lining up one of the females and without hesitation she began to fire on the one with short, black curly hair. (Johanna) She smiled to herself, in some way they had the advantage, in that they had time to find good cover. She was using this opportunity to it's maximum, firing a steady stream of fire from behind a heavily damaged piece of sheet metal. Suddenly, Jaxx's left arm goes limp and the shotgun drops to the ground. A swift, stabbing pain had made it's presence known in his chest, forcing Jaxx to clutch at himself through his protective vest. "Auuughgh... damnit..." Was it blaster fire? No. It couldn't be. His clothing was still intact. A huge white blur plays before the man's eyes, and his skin pales a bit. "Minions of Xendor.... what the heck is going on?" He falls to his knees, pulling at his shirt as if it were on fire and burned insanely at his chest. He then looks woefully up to his boss, then time seems to slow down as he gazes about his surroundings. The pain seemed to go on forever until with a wooshing sound he yanked back into reality. He groans loudly, before screaming in complete agony, and falling flatly forwards on his face, unconscious. Through the deafending din and blinding haze, Lando looks from left to right, hoping for a way to protect himself from the stray blasts of laser and shotgun fire. Unfortunately, he finds no cover along the bulkhead, resignedly looking out upon the chaos. The chaos speeds by Lando, though his own movements seem to be in slow motion, and then he sees is, one of his own guards fires a shotgun, but misses the slippery rogue for whom it was intended. Calrissian ducks his head as the lead hits the bulkhead and his shoulder, throwing up sparks and splattering blood. Groaning in pain, Lando flops to the side and hits the floor. Hits the floor? The man looks up - his bonds severed by the blast of the shotgun. Smiling to himself, he struggles past atrophy to stand, grabbing a piece of sharp shrapnel and rushing over to Silvin, body low. Two can play at that game. Instead of reaching for her lightsaber, Johanna has one of Drax's Enforcer pistols clutched firmly in her right hand, heightened senses warning her of Eson's assault. She dives out of the way just as the Twi'lek surges forward to open fire, archaic pellets whizzing by and shredding assorted electrical components. Does this guy ever want to leave Corellian space? His ship's going to be shot to all hells by the time they're through, that much is obvious. One of the crazies, a lanky fellow in hid mid-forties, goes down thanks to Zed's perniciously consistent shooting. "Give it up, Eson," the pilot hollers over the din of exchanged fire, "We're taking him back and you can't stop us!" Some thanks he's showing for her having saved his life! Hrmph. Sabrina meanwhile seems engaged with trying to mow down Szaric, and the rest of the team begins to make an inroads into the freighter proper. But not before another member is lost in a brave attempt to jump Xianna, meeting with the business end of her shotgun instead. Johanna spots Lando flailing about and shouts some encouragement even as she calls upon her unique abilities to send a wall of invisible energy towards Tyy'sun, hoping to knock him hard against the bulkhead before he can use his weapon again. Zed did not miss Lando being blasted free from his chair, and he adjusts is aim for the man as he darts for Silvin. Before he can fire, however, a blaster shot hits him in the shoulder. The droid is knocked backwards and into a live, and very exposed, power conduit. Sparks leap between the joints in Zed's plating and his optical visor glows very, very brightly for a moment or two, then fades to black. At the same time his vocabulator lets out a screech of static, before cutting out in a similar manor. The electricity spike trips a breaker and yet more systems turn off, leaving Zed to collapse, shorted out and out of action untill the electric charge had dissapated, and his processsors could re-initialize. That might take a while. Inwardly suprised at Johanna's speed and reflexes as he pumps shot through the air towards the Jedi, the Twi'lek crouches down, his own dexterity apparent as his forarm pumps round after round back into the chamber of his AA. The crime lord rushes upwards as soon as the gun is reloaded to his satisfaction, lekku flowing through the air behind him as he goes along with the preter long coat. "You've chosen the wrong outfit to piss off, Joh!" snaps the Twi'lek - some thanks hes getting for not slapping a lawsuit on the Basilica for assault several weeks before. He rushes the woman, gathering his senses around him - embracing his rage, attempting to utilize his own budding, though special talants. In comes the Twi'lek with a snarl, the shot gun swinging up for another blast at the Jedi - and then away goes the Twi'lek, and the FOrce rushes over him, hauls him into the air. In surprise at the intensity of the invisible blast, the crime lord grunts, his squinting shut as he kareens over the ehads of his own crew and into the bulkhead behind them. Uncerimoniously the Twi'lek crumples to the cabin floor to lick his wounds while the bttle continues to explode all around the ship. Utter chaos; it would be difficult to describe the Envy's main cabin accurately with any other words. Wafting acrid smoke, from the initial breach and the scorched, sizzling effects of blaster and slug impacts upon decking, bulkhead and ceiling alike, fills lungs as well as empty space. Amidst tibanna gas discharges and slug thrower cartridge detonations, Silvin observes Lando in a fast crouch in his direction, some sort of improvised weapon in hand. Rescue. "Perfect timing, General," he exclaims gratefully. "I don't think there's much bulkhead left to absorb strays." Szaric quickly shifts behind some cover as he wait for his rifle to cool down, before pivoting to aim his rifle. Before he manages to do this though, he is hit in the right shoulder with a blaster shot. The man curses as he is slammed against the wall behind him, but he isn't out yet. In a rage, he once again attempts to reaim his cyrorifle, sending off another series of blaster fire, but the pain in his shoulder from the pounding of his weapon is too much and he is forced to halt his volley. The green-cloaked human kneels as he caresses his wound, but is hit once again with another bolt which knocks him unconcious. As the rebel hero's words lash forth, a seemingly stray shell collides with him. Eyes following the body as it topples over to the ground, a genuine grin rips acrossed Jarek's face. Steps quickly closing the distance between the two, a finger taps idly at the trigger, the first shot firing from his gun as a crazy dashes in front of him. After pushing the body out of his way, the newcomer and sith in training sets his sights once again on Lando, cocking another round into the weapon. Again Xi fires blindly at the OTHER crew, who seemed to be larger number than first anticipated. She realised quickly as both the droid and Jaxx fell that this battle was folly. Already they were dropping like flies. It didn't help of course when Xianna felt the cruel burn of blaster fire narrowly missing her arm, but burning it savagely nonetheless. She lets out a yell, her cold, cold voice filling the busted up cabin. "Tyy'Sun, there is NO need to kill us all. Now order us to blow the brains out of your captive or hand him back to the scum. Either way you won't be getting any reward if you're dead!" She screamed, anger dripping from every word. Xi continued to fire at the crowd, now more randomly and if possible, more furiously. Her eyes quickly fell to the fleeing Lando, and she began to aim for any appendages that would slow him down. Her shooting was capable enough to discount the possibility of hitting anything vital. However, before she knew it a bolt had reflected rather quickly from the steel plating and hit her in the chest. The pain was incredible and she only managed a few more shots before she fell unconcious. Lando, at the last second, decides against cutting Silvin out just yet. If he was to do so, both their lives would be forfeit, instead, the gambler fakes a move to one side, and falls into a tight roll to the other. Gaining cover behind a couch, he looks around for some manner of weaponry. Eyes falling to the droid's shotgun, Lando grins as he grabs his favourite weapon, hositing it up to point that business end right at Jarek. He squuezes the trigger a few times before falling back behind the couch to reload. Beyond the ship's hull is the unrelenting vacuum; if much more damage is done to it then there won't be any time to celebrate victory or lament defeat. With Tyy'sun chucked into a wall Johanna finds the space available to hit the deck near Lando just as more shots go whizzing by. "General," she grunts, "Glad to see you in one piece." As it's apparent Lando is trying to assist Silvin before he's forced to dive out of the way, her pistol shoved back into its holster so that she might access her lightsaber. Its white blade ignites and in a flash Silvin's bonds are severed; the captive is free to move about as he will. The opposition is taking hits too it seems, that bizarre droid has gone down along with Xianna and, thanks to Sabrina's work, Szaric is also out of the running. "GET THE PACKAGE AND GO!" comes the shout from the commander, still alive though three more of his team have fallen. Tyy'sun forces back the pain. it is something he has become a galactic expert on - swallowing pain, pushing it back, shove it away, stomping it down - he swallows hard as the shudder creeping down his spine smarts like a bantha kick. He pulls himself up stubornly to one knee and looks upward slowly to the unfolding carnage. Still blaster fire and shot rains around the ship - decimating it and his crew to pieces. Tyy'sun crouches amongst that scene - drinking in the sight of his chaos - and a thrill drips into his bones that he has never known. His chaos - his doing.. The clamor and the death, the blaster hazed air and screams of protest and desperation.. it was all his down - all his show. A smile creeps onto his visage and he holds the shotgun anew. "Stay your tounge, and make em sting all the way back to their vessal, boys and girls!" he shouts over the din, bringing the shotgun up once more - pain shoots down his back, but he grits his teeth and pulls the trigger, "Take as many down as ye can!" he knew Lando was lost to him, knew he had been beaten here - and yet, like a drug coursing through his viens, the moment was to his complete satisfaction. Up until this point, Jarek had not been on the recieving end of a barrel, not directly anyways. Be it luck, or lack thereof, a shot is fired. A spray of shots whisk through the air, colliding with the blast vest that he had picked up while on Nar Shaddaa, along with the ghetto shotgun which seemed to be the weapon of choice this night. What had Tyy'sun gotten himself into? Not a single up-to-date weapon among the lot. Knocked to the ground, the many sounds that escape Jarek's lips are not audible, his eyes closing slowly as the blurred happenings around him continue. Beginning to breathe again as he hears Jarek hit the floor, Calrissian rests behind the crate. It is as good a cover as any, and no-one would blame him for waiting for a bit, with his injuries and all. However, the man stands, gun limp at his side. The shot was pure luck - he shouldn't have made it. Firing off a few wide shots at Tyy'sun's last position, Lando shakily sidesteps over to another large storage box, collapsing behind it. The shotgun slips out of his hand as the situation, the lack of sleep, and the loss of blood finally take their toll. Silvin doesn't bother going for a weapon, though more than a few lay cluttered about the cabin's deck, prizes released their injured or dead owners during the span of this gunfight. His right hand, as as damaged as it is, could not possible hold and fire a microblaster, let alone anything sporting the kick of a shotgun or the weight of a blaster rifle. Newly freed, he offers Johanna a grim nod around an ernest, "Thank you." With that, and given his newfound surge of adrenaline, he forces himself in a crouch to Calrissian, grabbing a handful of shirtback that he may pull the exhausted man to his feet. "It's time to go, General." Curses! Looks like Lando won't be able to get his own arse out of here. With most of the opposition subdued however, it's not too hard for Johanna to haul up the (reformed?) gambler, the Force lending her ample support for the strength required to execute such a task, and Silving stepping in at the right time to get the fellow to his feet. The remainder of the teams goes back towards the hatch for a retreat into the Commander of Coins even as the docking pilot receives the order to stand by for undocking the vessel from the Trader's Envy. With that, Johanna, Silvin and Lando's largely useless form are all well on their way towards the hatch, through it, and fixing to escape Corellian space before the Empire unleashes the dogs of war on Lando's capship. The crime lord never stops fireing his shotgun durring the onsluaght of the heroes after he had managed to stand again. Round after round was emptied into the cabin, much of it simply doing more damage to his ship than anything else as the NR forces made their impressive exit. As the hatch closes and represurization occurs, shot barrels off the durasteel surface of the exit one last time and finally Tyy'sun tosses the shotgun down to the deck with a clatter. He stands in the center of the cabin as the hulking form of Commander of Coins departs from around The Envy . Around him lay the tattered remains of his crew - every last man prone and unonscious, bleeding, or worse. And after a long moment only the hum of the barely functioning systems of the ship accompany the still air, and the still Twi'lek. With the dizzying levels of adrenaline washing away from the Twi'lek - it is a surreal moment indeed for him to stand amidst that scene - his work, his crew, his goals shattered. Lando gone - their crash seats empty - Ai'kani - gone from days earlier .. and the holocron he paid for in blood rests in the cockpit. In that surreal moment of quiet - the crime lord just laughs. Fade to black...
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