Zakai and Shanree located various canisters of varied explosive substances around the hangar. Forgoing any thought of showing off they used The Force, both being rather talented with telekinesis, to pull them towards the ship. Once they had a small collection they turned to lifting them into the air, again with The Force, until they were pressed up against the aging ship where they were secured quickly by Aylin and Tasha.
Shanree was the first to hear the clank-clank sound echoing across the hangar. Turning to Zakai he winked, “You finish up here.”
“Huh? Hey, wait!” Zakai called after his friend, unable to follow with his hands in the air, telekinetically holding another canister against the ship.
Shanree jogged across the hangar, his eyeless face sweeping back and forth as he searched with the Force-sight his people, the Miraluka, were gifted. He didn’t need it at first though as the noise was consistent and repetitive and therefore easy to locate. It lead him back to the corridor they’d emerged from. The blast door was malfunctioning, opening a small bit then closing heavily with a metallic ring. The Grey Jedi was almost disappointed it was something so mundane; the light saber hilts in his hand, which looked like wooden fighting sticks, suddenly felt goofy.
He plunged a pale green light saber blade into the control panel which stopped the malfunctioning door and, as an added benefit, locked it behind them. He turned from the blast door, prepared to jog his way back to the group, when he was physically frozen in place. Standing there was a Duros male in a dark robe, the hood pulled up over his face. His arms and legs were wrapped firmly from the elbow and knees down so that his voluminous robes gave him a puffed-up appearance. Had Shanree not been Force Locked in place and more concerned about how to free himself he might have found the Unchained’s costume humorous, having become accustomed to the dramatics Sith and Dark Jedi went to prove their Darkness.
A red blade snap-hissed to life in the dark figure’s left hand and then it started to advance toward him. Shanree struggled to free himself but to no avail. The Duros’s raspy voice was sweet and predatory, like a spider’s, “Try, try to escape. It won’t work…”
It definitely seemed that way. His arms and legs, his trunk and his entire body were held firmly in a single place unable to move. Shanree frantically looked around with his Force sight but found nothing he could fling at the alien. It came to him in a sudden moment of inspiration. His eye’s locked with the Duros’s. The alien reacted swiftly, its light saber sweeping around to the right to cleave the object hurtling at him. There was nothing there, though.
The Unchained’s momentary lapse freed Shanree, who lunged into his counter-attack. The Duros had realized his mistake and was already pivoting to reestablish his Force Lock on the Miraluka but Shanree was too fast. He closed the distance between them with preternatural agility with his two light sabers, still in hand, swinging in time with the motion of his arms. Two pale green blades slammed into a single crimson red one perpendicularly over the Duros. He was strong and the attack did not stagger him. In riposte the Unchained leapt backward and flung his other hand forward, blue arcs of lightning shot towards Shanree. The Miraluka deflected the charged attack with his left hand saber and used the motion to bring his right hand round. This attack too was blocked but it brought the two of them back into contact which was what Shanree wanted.
Shanree lashed out with his feet, double-kicking from the hip with impressive speed. The Duros took the first kick to the ribs but blocked the second with his forearm. The Unchained Dark Jedi swung his red blade about but it impacted a pale green one. Shifting his stance fluidly Shanree feinted another barrage of kicks to which the Duros jumped away from in preparation for. Shanree continued his shifting momentum into a spinning backhand swing of his other light saber now at perfect distance from its target.
To his credit the Duros was fast and his light saber came about to deflect the attack upwardly, over his shoulder. Shanree’s palm, usually pressed down on a pressure plate-activator switch, cupped outward momentarily. The pale green saber vanished with a receding hiss-snap, but only for the barest of moments. Shanree’s saber blade never made contact with the Duros’s and so his hand, holding the hilt, continued to sweep across. He again gripped the saber hilt, and the activator, igniting the blade once more with a snap-hiss. The green-white saber speared the Duros and both fighters stood in place for a moment.
Shanree’s other saber was held behind him, cocked at an intentional angle. His feet were splayed in a Teras Kasi stance. His right hand was held outward, holding the light saber that was killing the Duros. The Alien stood frozen for that moment too, shocked at the outcome of this encounter. He stared with his big eyes, confused, into the Miralukan’s empty eye-sockets, eerily illuminated in this dark corner of the Hangar by the glow of their light sabers.
Zakai came running around the corner of a bulk transport container, his light saber hilt in hand, looking ready to leap into a fight. Shanree was just disengaging his weapon, and pushing the now dead Unchained to the ground, “Ah come on! I didn’t even get to see you fight him!”
His breathing a little higher than it was before, his age was catching up with him despite his athletic shape, Shanree grinned at the younger man, “What took you so long?”
Zakai scowled at the call-back, “Come on. Aylin says to stop wasting time, we gotta go.”
The two of them dashed back to the ship, which now sported a small assortment of various types of improvised explosives on its forward prongs, and met the rest of the party there. Outside the hangar’s containment field’s blue glow were the distant flitting of turbolaser fire as the Clans’ navies matched the Unchained’s own.
Shanree looked at his datapad, “Okay, everyone get onboard.”
They all looked at him confused but he continued talking over the first noises of their protests, “My ship is arriving outside, but it-- it won’t fit in here.”
He managed to chorale everyone on board and told Zakai to get in the pilot’s seat. Tasha jumped into the copilot chair of her own ship and started programming in her final commands. As they exited the hangar and slid into space they were quickly met by a yacht that slid up alongside them. The sleek, beautiful form of the S-161 XL, and its out sized rotating stabilizer wing, looked like a racing vessel next to the aging YT freighter. The S-161 extended its transfer umbilical which Zakai aided in securing to their ship.
Shanree and Zakai left Tasha in the cockpit alone for a moment. She looked like she was still inputting the last commands to the ship’s auto-pilot but both men could feel her sadness at the ship’s parting. With everyone at last aboard the S-161 they broke off from the other ship and watched as its engines lit up and the craft rocketed off on a pre-programmed course around the planet. It would sling itself, using the planet’s gravity well to gain as much velocity as possible. They would not be sticking around to see if their plan had worked out however. Shanree had spent quite a lot of his inheritance on improving this ship but it was not meant for a warzone. He permitted Zakai to work with the ship’s AI Brain to get them to one of the allied rendezvous zones. For them, this battle was over.
The saloon was dark and full of smoke. It was clearly a Spacer Bar, judging by all the Aliens sporting corporate and personal logos. You could tell from their collective lack of uniformity in any manner; no shared beliefs, no shared fashions, no shared origins, and no shared team affiliations. This was just the place they happened to be at this time. They were passing through. A lot of people were passing through these days, the barkeep noted to himself.
A stranger sat at the bar nursing a glass of Rylothian whiskey, watching some video over and over on a datapad. At first the barkeep wasn’t interested but the man constantly replayed the video over and over emotionlessly.
“Hey there, Buddy”, the Barkeep asked the man, “whatchya watchin there?”
The stranger looked up at it surprisingly with gleeful eyes, “I just came into a lot of money. My wicked Sister joined some dumbass cult and died a few days ago, the family Lawyer sent me this…”
He slid his datapad over, it was much nicer than any of the ones someone from around here would have had the Barkeep noticed. The video showed a Star Destroyer engaged in some sort of battle. The video suddenly shifted and zoomed in on a small YT freighter of some sort that was hurtling towards the capital ship. He was confused, wondering if the small ship really intended to suicide itself fruitlessly into the side of that warship. The explosion that resulted was not at all what he expected. The freighter’s velocity, and added combustibility, resulted in a brilliant explosion that tore a chunk out of the side of the Destroyer’s wedge shaped hull.
The Barkeep handed the datapad back to the stranger and reached to the top shelf for his only bottle of Corellian whiskey, “Almost looks like a Space Shark took a bite out of that Imperial.”
The stranger chuckled and finished his glass so that it could be filled up with the better stuff, “I wonder whose ship that was.”