Dreadnaught-class Heavy Cruiser Akan
Ship’s Hangar
Deep Space
The TIE/br Boarding Shuttle skidded across the tarmac, spewing liquids, undulating smoke and sparks from its fuselage. Support stanchions rocketed through the hangar as the shuttle smashed through them. Slamming to an extremely violent halt against the wall of the Akon, the Imperial shuttle slowly creaked and rolled to one side.
Inside the wreckage, the scene was much of the same, but a bit more organic. Alarms and buzzers peaked at both high and low octaves. Sparks and smoke filled the remnants of what used to be a fully functional shuttlecraft. Now the shuttle resembled more of a metal scrap heap, mangled beyond any useful means. Mactire moaned as he rolled to one side trying to regain his bearings.
“Jesus dude, practice touch and go landings much?” the Mystic said spitting blood from his mouth.
Mactire winced as he to rolled up to one knee. His Quaestor, DarkHawk, was slumped over in his jump seat, the Sith’s upper torso leaning against one of the outside support stanchions that had pierced the ship’s hull. Mac sat up and slapped DarkHawk on the leg.
“Hey, DarkHawk…DarkHawk, you ok?
The Battlemaster moaned, slowly opening his eyes. As his sight focused into normalcy, eyes widening at the wreckage appearing in front of him. Not only that, but the sheer spectacle of an eight-inch beam, now positioned mere inches from the Equite’s head. Clearly, this defines the start of the current endeavor.
DarkHawk pushed what debris he could off of himself before Mac extended a hand and assisted pulling the Quaestor from behind the beam and out of his seat. Maneuvering to what remained of the ship’s port side, Takagari crawled over more debris elated to see Etah Bloodfyre and Jades Sadow still harnessed into their own jump seats. Mactire followed suit and checked his two team members vitals.
“They are good DH, they are good…” Mac said ecstatically.
“Where is Armad?” asked DarkHawk.
“Here’… said the familiar voice of the Battlelord.
Takagari traversed his way to his comrade. Armad was standing in what should have been the flight deck. The entire crew dead, the pilot and co-pilot clinging to the stanchion beam that pierced their bodies. The distinct smell of iron punched the senses of the Sadowan’s, now rapidly becoming very pungent. Visceral and life force poured from the lifeless bodies of the remaining crew members. Metal chunks and shrapnel littered the crew’s corpse’s. Their last expressions of life statically displayed across their faces.
"Well this just sucks, now we got to get a new crew…,” Mactire said as he assessed the scene.
“We got to get out of here first and foremost…” Armad said urgently.
“Over here… “ Jades said.
Jades pointed to the massive hole behind a barrier of wreckage. The five Sadowans started to make quick work of their impasse when they heard the distinct sound of footsteps baring down on them.
“We need to move!” Etah shouted.
Etah pausing momentarily, drinking from the essence around him, filling himself full of Dark Side Force energy. With a precise forward motion of his arms, the debris barricading them launched out into the hangar. Now, with passage unobstructed, the five Sadowans finally put boots on solid footing. The hangar looked like a literal warzone.
“Well, we are about to meet the welcoming party” exclaimed DarkHawk as teams of Collective goons poured into the hangar.
The five tightened their stances and readied themselves. DarkHawk reached into his utility belt, unclipping the pins from two smoke grenades. The Sith held them for a second above his head before he slammed them to the ground. A thick grey smoke encapsulated the Sadowans and their surrounding area, allowing them to become one with their masquerade.
