Toxicity and a Man Overboard

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Took 'em three days t'finalize plans. Woulda taken shorter, but Kazaar forced th'Kid to take a day off t'rest, after finding 'er passed out by a buncha planning documents. "Rest is a weapon, Kid. Haven't I frackin' told ya that 'nough?" He'd chided 'er. Had t'be sharp when goin' into battle. Even if th'Empire's 'finest' weren't always the brightest bulbs in th'sockets. Better t'be taken out with all ya faculties than onna count o'bein' stupid. Even Kazaar, with his love o'alcohol knew that. Most o'the time. He'd gotten fracked up before a bounty once and had Ash almost beat th'living hell outta him f'gettin' shot up. And that was before they'd discovered their mutual attraction.

Estelle's finger traced the outside of her jaw while her other hand went over the plans to the Star Destroyer where General Forlon was being held. "Forlon should be here." She pointed towards th'prison level, which was near the aft of the ship.

She then moved her gloved finger to the left a bit to an area about three decks above engineering. "And according to Othniel, the commandos will enter through here. Then move towards the detention center. Suggestions on where we should be?"

Kazaar smirked. "Go in as stormies'n be engineering. Best way t'stay outta sight, since they got too frackin' many of 'em, and still be close 'nough t'the action. If they ask us why we ain't going t'the prison level we tell 'em we're there t'guard th'brains."

"I am not going in as a stormtrooper." k'Vik put in resolutely. "I'm too short and they do have standards." Even she had seen them during her short time around Esalis.

Another smirk from th'former bounty hunter. "What ya afraid a little stormtrooper armor might lower ya IQ're something. It ain't that bad, Birdy."

"She's got a point Aurelias." Th'Kid put a stop to th'argument before it began. "We could face a lot of questions if out heights aren't up to standards." She thought a moment. "We could go in as engineers. Their standards aren't quite as stringent and I like the idea of being near engineering itself."

"Might work." Kazaar nodded takin' a puff offa his cigar. "Gotta make sure Othy can get us some fake orders though. Those damn engineers sometimes get assigned as gunners. I sure as hell don't wanna get a frackin' demerit f'abandoning m'post if th'mission tanks." He smirked. Being near th'power cells made sense in case they had t'frack 'em up t'keep the commandos cargo holds intact. Kazaar rose from his seat. "Sounds like a plan, Kid. get a hold o'Othy'n see if he's gotta couple extra suits (knowing that guy's connections he's gotta bunch). I'll grab some extra mines."

Imperial Transport IA73X: En route to the Victory Star Destroyer Steel Gargoyle

Everything from there fell into place pretty well. 'The Black Man' was able t'get th'trio a couple extra engineering suits, plus some orders straight offa Coruscant, sayin' they were th'new engineering team for th'Steel Gargoyle (who th'frack names these ships anyway?). Only problem was hot damn hot th'helmets were. Sure as hell didn't provide a ton o'vision either, which sucked more than th'heat. But it beat bein' asked how come ya partners were "too short t'be stormtroopers" which Kazaar just knew some Imperial officer, trying t'show how big ovva blaster he actually had would do. Frackin' brass. Buncha morons who never spent time in th'trenches.

'Least th'helmets had their own comm system so Kazaar could talk t'both th'Kid and k'Vik without bein' bothered by 'nother engineer. Boy that'd sure be a helluva way t'get a mission blown. 'Course both Estelle and Kazaar'd heard 'bout missions being blown for stupider reasons. But both of 'em wouldn't be on this one if they weren't two o'the best. Even if no one'd admit it.

Th'transport docked, allowing th'team of engineers t'disembark and enter into th'wide hangar. It wasn't Kazaar's first time on board a Star Destroyer, but it was th'first time he'd run into a line t'get off. Warning bells started goin' off in all three...something was up. When they finally got off th'transport, they saw why.

The Empire had a buncha officers checkin' out every engineer who came through: makin' sure their datapad IDs matched th'ones on their uniforms, makin' sure their tool kits actually had tools, and making sure they knew where they were headed. Estelle, Milivikal, and Kazaar were all in th'clear, even if Kazaar had a couple mines in his toolbox. His file claimed he'd been a combat engineer just offa Sarapin, so he had an excuse f'carrying th'explosives, but the trio still knew this was tighter security than they'd expected.

Even if one of th'officers taking their info stated. "Aren't you a little tall for an engineer?"

Kazaar smirked inside his helmet. "No sir. Finished top of my class at the Imperial Academy." Smartass.

They were hustled through security quickly, each given a thorough once over and were assigned to their positions in engineering. But it was pretty certain t'all of 'em: Th'Empire knew the Rebels were comin'. And they were ready.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle pulled her helmet off as they stood in the relative privacy of an alcove adjacent to where they would be stationed. She was clearly agitated by the knowledge that the Imperials were already steps ahead of them.

"This could be disasterous" she said anxiously, her voice thick with hushed panic, "They may have set the whole thing up as an ambush"

Kazaar reached over and knocked on the top of her head lightly with his fist, "Put y'r helmet back on kid" he said, unworried. "They're expectin' th'dopes from SpecForce, not us"

She pushed his hand away roughly, "I know that, Kazaar" she rounded back, "but SpecForce doesn't know it"

Aurelias shrugged, too bad for them. Estelle looked to Mili who seemed to have no opinion, which was hard to really tell exactly through the dark glass of the visor. After a moment, she shrugged too.

Estelle stuffed her head back into her helmet, still ruffled but trying to keep a hold of herself. If they tried to warn their counterparts the chances of themselves gaining exposure was absolute. Yet, in her report, it would be noted that she knew of impending danger and neglected to warn anyone. This leading the mission had landmines she'd never even imagined. "Very well, we continue with our plan" she advised through the comm. "We assist our comrades with their rescue where we can, do damage control, but in the meantime, we need to locate the source of the leak and be ready to snatch Forlon if things look to be circling the drain. Clear?" Both helmets nodded. "Good". Lucky for her, Kazaar and Mili couldn't see the sweat breaking out in beads on her forehead.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The helmet, while uncomfortable, didn't cause the claustrophobia in k'Vik that it had with Kazaar. She had other means of surveying the world. It was too bad that the rest of the armor had been so miserable, because the Imperial Whites got much better helmets. It would have also meant less glances at her in general, although the baggy clothing did hide her figure some. No wonder the Imperials were so miserable - five men for every woman, and hardly any aliens. As smelly as Coruscant was, at least it was diverse.

They'd been assigned menial (in Mili's opinion) tasks in the engineering room, a nexus of wires and controls that hung branch-like over the ship's massive generators. For whatever reason, the designers were fond of catwalks with a few centimeters of waist-high railing and nothing else between the engineers and death that crackled 50 meters below. In one of the reports it mentioned that tools were nearly an eighth Navy's Engineering budget. Perched above the reactor, it was obvious why. Sent off on her own, she needed to re-align power coupling on one of the many trunks that sprouted out from the reactors into the canopy of catwalks. First, she located a good one, marked down it's specifications and output (but more importantly, listened to it.) Her supervisor hrm'd, but paid the behavior little mind. Mili's false record said she was a transfer from an Impstar, and this was her second assignment, per records.

While picking her way back across the catwalk to align the power coupling, she gave some thought to Estelle's predicament. SpecFor wasn't known for it's special grace, and it was possible the op could be caught with it's pants down in Imperial Square.

She set to work on the coupling alignment. Truth be told, she was doing it entirely by the seat of her pants. A twist of a dial here, a slide of a lever there, she gradually made things sound closer and closer to her reference coupling.

If she could be in the right part of engineering on the arrival of the SpecFor squad, she could warn them silently. However, if their papers weren't in order, they were as good as dead, and no warning from Mili would save them. She'd need to talk to Kazaar and Estelle when their shift was over, in four hours.

Mili glanced back at Estelle, fifty meters away, halfway into a power relay, hips, bottom and legs sticking out. She bit her lower lip and sighed.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar's assignment was just as menial, but 'least he didn't hafta do it by the seat o'his pants. He had t'admit, making th'crack 'bout being "Top of the class" in Engineering wasn't real smart, 'specially if they asked him to do some sorta major calibrations to some system he'd never heard of. But th'chief engineer wasn't th'kinda guy who took education credentials as reasons why he oughta put some star pupil at th'front line. Naw, that guy thought it best t'see what kinda work an engineer could actually do before givin' him something bigger. And, much as Kazaar loathed th'Empire and wished every day he'd wake up t'hear it'd imploded inna massive of deaths that'd rock th'galaxy, he had t'respect it.

Kazaar was given th'assignment t'check out th'Steel Gargoyle's three massive power cells t'make sure they were operatin' at full capacity. It wasn't a bad assignment, he'd fiddled with th'Dutchman's power cells a couple times, but nothin' this big.

"Well Engineer." Th'chief asked impatiently. "Why are there fluctuations on Power Cell 2?"

He glowered through 'is helmet at th'cell readings (f'once wishin' he was in one o'those egg-white uniforms stormies wore). "It could." He kept his voice inna Coruscanti accent. "Be a number of things, sir." Frack you, ya Imperial gutterslut. "If you look at cells themself, they appear to be operating at full capacity. All the readings are correct. It could be a loose wire. I can go look at it if you wish...sir"

Th'chief crossed his arms, probably thinkin' the exactly same thing Kazaar was 'bout him. Which weren't real good thoughts. "Very well, Engineer. See to it."

Kazaar strode from his console into th'power cell area itself. Th'radiation was pretty light (this guy actually took care o'his ship) and he didn't hafta bother with a protective suit o'any kind (outside o'his own helmet 'course). That was good 'n bad. Th'good bein' it mean he was 'safe' being down here. Th'bad, of course, meant th'chief probably did nightly radiation swoops. If Kazaar was gonna blow even one o'the power cells, it meant hidin' the damn mine inside th'cell. And Kazaar wasn't sure where th'hell ya accessed th'interior of th'cells. Oh well, he had four hours. Might as well start at it now.

"Kid." He toggled th'comm link only he, k'Vik, and Estelle had access to. But he still kept his Coruscanti accent (just in case). "I think I've found the power cells sweet spot. I'll do some extra 'fine tuning' just to be sure." His voice lowered a bit. "You doing alright?"

[Estelle Russard]

Kazaar was forced to await a reply, Estelle having her attention for the moment fully engaged on the task at hand. Completing the relay circuit would not normally be a difficult job to a person at home amongst the myriads of electrical wires, but Estelle had no such familiarity, and "jimmying" something together was not a term one could really associate with their current circumstances. One simply did not "jimmy" things on an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Estelle had, however, enough past experience on much smaller scales of craft to follow a logical sequence and, after some frustrating twenty minutes, completed the relay satisfactorily.

She ducked out from beneath the twisted canopy, pleased with her small victory and bumped into Mili who had apparently come by to check on her progress. Their helmets clunked together and Estelle apologised for her clumsiness. "Oh, Im sorry - I didn't realise you were right there" she said.

"Im right where?" Kazaar queried, confused after such a delayed reply on the comm. "Im in the power cell area" he repeated, tapping a gloved finger to his earpeice, wondering if the crappy Imp commlink was even working properly.

"I know where you are - you already told me," Estelle answered, speaking now to Kazaar.
"Are you finished?" she asked Mili, who nodded.
"Almost" said Kazaar.
"Good work" she commended.
"Thanks"
"Thanks"
Mili and Kazaar replied together.

"What?" Estelle asked Kazaar, hearing his voice but not his response.
"What?" Kazaar asked, not knowing who the frell was talking to him, the Kid or the Bird.

Then the comms went silent. The three-way conversation was not working so well and so each of the rebels waited for the other to speak.

.........


Finally Estelle spoke again, "Be sure to give that little bit extra, Cowboy" she said, giving him the go ahead to set up an explosive device within the cell hub.
She looked up the walkway in one direction, then down the other. Its length was clear. "Might be a good time to take a smoke break" she suggested to Mili, adding, "Get to know some of the other crew, maybe" ... and see if any of them know anything useful.

Kazaar's voice echoed over the comm, "We get smoke breaks?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"No." Mili said. She'd read most of the Engineer's handbook, and smoke breaks were verboten. along with nearly everything else that wasn't working. Mili suspected that sometimes people took naps in access shafts, although these Imperials had an odd sense of work ethic, even the ones on shore leave. She checked that her DH-17 blaster pistol was still there. She was happy to have some sort of weapon, along with her folding multi-tool's vibro-blade.

"We have only been at this for an hour, next break is in..." she paused and examined the standard issue wrist chrono "...an hour and ten. How wretched." She could feel Kazaar glower from across the room.

"Yer tellin' me, Birdie, that I can't have a smoke." He was growling as quietly as possible. Estelle let her breath out.

"It would blow our cover." Estelle added.

"I can't 'ave a drink, either." Kazaar answered his own question.

"Shore leave." k'Vik stated.

"Buncha uptight bastards." Both women could hear Aurelias hit something with a spanner.

"I must to get back to the supervisor. Next assignment and all." She sighed. This was maddening. Hopefully she could pick someone's brain on break.

[Samantha Lessard]

The Rebel MC80 Mon Calamari Cruiser Hope For Change Hiding in the remains of Alderaan

"Rawl. Rawl!" Samantha Lessard called as she hobbled as best she could around the ship's corner. There were times she hated overstating her limp, but she'd been working on it for some long she had to keep it going. Thankfully it didn't affect how the robotic part of her left foot worked.

"Hey Sam, what's up?" Rawl slowed down a bit to let the Rebel's Sub-Director on Counter-Intelligence catch up. He was one of a few who knew her limp wasn't as bad as she pretended it was, but he still placated her. Besides, he gave a smile, she never 'faked' anything in the bedroom. To his knowledge atleast.

"I've been going over some of our communications frequencies with Santiago Cristobal. We found something pretty interesting." She handed him the datapad she was carrying in her right hand.

Rawl gave it a once-over, his eyebrow cocking in surprise. "A back door frequency? How'd you find it?"

"Cristobal and I were doing a pretty routine sweep of the ship." Lessard explained as the two entered a turbolift which would take them to her department. "With Misha still missing, Cristobal asked me to help out a bit in Analysis. That's how we found it."

"Where is Repin anyway?" Misha Repin was Alliance Intel's Sub-Director of Cryptography and Analysis. One of the few 'original' Rebels left, the old man had disappeared almost a week ago on Coruscant.

"Don't know." Lessard answered, brushing a lock of her short brown hair behind her ear. "We don't even know why he went to Coruscant to begin with. He was supposed to be on Mon Cal doing analysis on this 'Cavalier' guy we're dealing with. Why he never showed up, I don't know."

"Yeah...it's strange." Rawl admitted, even though he was used to his own boss, 'The Black Man', disappearing for days upon time. Right now, TBM was on some mission which required radio silence. Wasn't unusual, but the fact the head of Rebel SpecOps didn't even bother coming to the Hope for Change with the rest of the crew was evenmoreso. But 'Othniel' had to think he had a line on something. "Do you think Repin is following up on a lead in the field?"

Lessard smiled as the two exited the lift. "Misha hasn't been cleared for field work in six years, Rawl, you know that. Not since he was made Sub-Director. He was a hell of an agent, but him going into the field is like me going into the field. There are other people for that job now." She playfully rapped his shoulder. "Like you and your boss.

"I'm going to keep an eye out on this frequency. It's encrypted so it might take a few days to decipher. But I'm pretty sure I can do it. I'm meeting with Cristobal later today." She paused at the door to her office. "I'll give you a status report over dinner."

"Sounds good. See you later Sam."

Lessard sighed as she walked her sometimes lover walk away. She hated not telling him everything, but that was the nature of the business. The fact the signal appeared to coming from a part of the ship where SpecOps had several offices...well, no time to think about that. She had a meeting to get ready for.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Two hours later

It was still pretty annoying, th'jobs they'd been given. Work a helluva lot better if they'd actually been trained at this stuff, but ya gotta be able t'preten a lot in spyin'. Or 'least do a good job at that. Kazaar was still poking inside th'power cells, trying t'find a good spot t'place his charges. Even if they were supposed t'be pretty small, Kazaar wasn't 'bout to give 'em the benefit of the doubt. One 'smarter than ya average' Imp hitting th'right button would blow th'mission to hell. And as much as Kazaar was cool with blastin' th'living frack outta all the Imperial 'round im, now wasn't th'time. Not with th'Kid and Birdy along for th'ride. Even if they could handle themselves pretty frackin' well.

He was just gettin' ready to curse whoever'd built th'damn cells, when he spotted something. A small part o'the cell which was small 'nough t'hide the mines and large 'nough t'where no one would actually see them unless they knew what they were lookin' for. Problem was (and there was always a frackin' problem) there were still two shifts left o'people poking 'round in the damn thing. And, since th'Imp engineers were supposed t'be pretty smart...wouldn't be th'best thing t'drop 'em now. Maybe sneak in later when th'opportunity was right.

"Hey Kid. Found a good spot for th'stuff. Ain't gonna install 'em now." He dropped a hydrospanner into th'power cells. Wouldn't frack it up too bad, but it'd be a reason f'him to look at th'cells later on. "I figure we got about 12 hours before our boys get in. Enough f'us t'get a couple hours sleep before gettin' ready..."

"Engineer." The Chief Engineer was standin' over Kazaar, his arms crossed. "I want you to go inspect the power coupling in C-Section, it's been manfunctioning a bit. Then report back to me and you can finish your shift. Understood?"

Kazaar got up, halfway tempted t'give his usual 'Sure whatever pal' response. But that'd be unprofessional. "Yes sir!" He smartly saluted. "I'll get it done and be back here in a jiffy." Then he strode outta th'engine room and towards C-Section.

"Next time, if ya have us be engineers, Kid." He whispered in his comm with a smirk. "I'm gonna smack ya upside th'head."

[Estelle Russard]

She'd be happy to smack herself upside the head, chafing as they all were to be doing something more constructive than spinning their wheels in place as faux-engineers.

When it was time at last to clock off shift, it was with a combined effort that they nonchalantly left their posts, to all appearances heading off with nothing better to do than eat some chow, shower and maybe play some cards before sleep and their new shift started all over again the next day.

"Thank god" Estelle remarked as they trundled one behind the other into the turbo lift that would take them to the crew levels, "I thought that shift would never end"

She was still tense, despite the passage of time since their arrival. Kazaar could see it in the posture of her shoulders, Mili could feel it in the waves of anxiety that were rolling off her like steam.

"We've been here for hours and have made no progress whatever" she said, mostly to herself. She knew she should relax, that they were doing everything as they'd outlined - getting themselves in place, reconnitoring their operating field. She knew that prep was just as important as action itself. Perhaps she'd been with Kazaar too long and was only happy when kicking down doors and taking names...

Estelle took a deep breath and told herself to get a grip. What was needed was cool heads and clear minds while they were in the belly of the beast. She looked to her companions, both of them seemed to be completely calm and self-possessed. Right, cool heads, clear minds. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly and the turbo doors opened to spill them onto "M" level.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Even the M deck was reserved. Mili sucked in a breath, and removed her helmet. There were storage lockers that lined the corridor, set up for such occasions. Everyone's helmet was stored, with the requisite key that matched the locker, complete with number. It was good if you were a numbskull. Both ladies had put their hair up, as per regulation. With the lousy male to female ratio, they immediately drew silent stares. She had kneed her share of hooting mal-mannered men during her days as a smuggler, but it wasn't going to happen here. In a way, she found it dissapointing. The look of surprise and pain always was so fresh and intense. She considered grabbing Estelle, but dismissed the though as quickly as it came. The Empire hated deviants; it wanted orderly, cattle-like citzens. Aliens, homosexuals, artists, all suffered at the hands of the Empire in the name of stability and progress. She clenched her fist. It would have been an ideal excuse to show that neither of them were available, but the consequences were unacceptable.

The tables seated five. The trio found and empty one, and formed a triangle, the most hostile configuration possible to other crew memebers. They all sat in silence for a minute, listening to the chatter and figuring out how to fit in. Milivikal was bored by the vast majority of the talk and gossip.

"How was your shift?" Estelle broke the ice and asked Kazaar.

"Ehhh..." he began, and made a concious effort not to shorten his words so much "...not so great, but I got all the stuff done I needed to."

"Yours?" Mili asked Estelle.

"Not used to everything yet." Estelle replied.

"I'm playing it by ear." She said with a shrug, and stopped. Her eyes narrowed. Someone began to talk about security arrangements.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Can you believe they flew in another platoon in? We're full up as it is." Th'non-uniformed stormtrooper was talkin' to his comrades at th'next table. Kazaar wasn't so sure why they were able t'hear 'em, but he figured Birdy had something t'do with it. Guess FUers can be useful from time t'time.

"I know." Th'other stormie took a gulp from his drink, coughed, and then took another. "What I heard is, they're inviting an attack."

"Frackin' A man!" The first stormie gasped. "What REMF thought up that poodoo?"

"It's not quite like that." Kazaar figured th'second stormie knew more than th'first. His notion was confirmed a moment later. "Apparently the guy down in the brig is some high-level Rebel general. Brass got word they were gonna bust him out, so they figured they'd make it difficult for the Rebels to do so. That's why the extra platoon's here."

"How'd they find out about it?"

The smarter stormie shrugged. "Above my pay grade. All I know is we're supposed to let them cut their way in, get in close enough to where they feel comfortable, and them blast them to Hell. They're not even going to move the prisoner. Guess they want them to feel hopeful." He looked at his watch. "Scuttlebutt says they'll be here in three hours. Just enough time for us to catch a nap."

Frack. Just frack. Not only did th'Empire know more 'bout th'attack, they even knew when it was happening. Frackin' intel weenies, why the hell can't ya give us better info. Kazaar stared at his two compadres and Milivikal nodded. They could talk freely. "I think we're going to have to move quicker than we thought, Kid."

Estelle nodded. "We need to find out where the troops will be stationed and if we can keep the team from getting ambushed."

"I doubt we'll be able to find out everything. But I can make sure the charges down in engineering are set to blow before the SpecForces guys come in." Kazaar turned towards k'Vik. "You can warn the team the mission's blown right?"

k'Vik nodded.

"I know some of those SpecForces guys. The commander makes me look cautious at times..." He smirked then narrowed his black eyes. "We have to tell them the mission's blown, finish our four-day hell assignment, and get the frack out. They might try to finish it anyway. But we have to tell them." His comm *bleeped*

"Engineer." It was the Chief. "Did you leave a hydrospanner in the power cell room?"

Frack. "I must have, sir." Kazaar answered. "I was so caught up in making sure they were working, I accidently left it."

"Come get it. And don't let it happen again."

He looked at th'Kid and Birdy. "I'll go get the charges set. If the team decides to scrub the mission, I'll remove them later. If not, engineering is in for one helluva party." He rose and strode outta M level, grabbing his helmet as he left. If he ever found who th'traitor was, he was gonna string 'em up by their entrails and set 'em on fire. He swore t'that as he got on the lift and headed back to engineering.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle watched her partner exit, then turned her attention to Mili seated opposite. "I need to let Othniel know this latest development" she said, lowering her voice out of habit. It didn't sit comfortable to speak so freely surrounded by the enemy, even with k'Vik's ability to manipulate sound. Russard leaned a little closer to whisper, "We should go some where less popular so I can make contact"

The look in Mili's eyes was a little disconcerting and Estelle found it hard to place the why.

"Mind if we sit?"

The reason presented itself in a question. Two pilots, if a girl was to go by the jumpsuits, had come up to their table behind her and, dispensing with the preamble of a 'yay' or 'nay' response, seated themselves beside Mili and herself. Neither rebel was overjoyed with their company, but the odds of finding out more information had just gone up. Estelle flashed a shy smile.

"Hi fella's" she said, "You just getting in or going out?" she gestured to their flightsuits. "I mean, seems like there is some buzz going on round here today for some reason..." Her off-the-cuff friendliness invited disclosure, and Estelle knew she had a certain harmless way of flirting that could be quite beguiling. Across from her, the second pilot couldn't take his eyes from Mili's beautiful features. He would be putty in her hands.
"Is it to do with that useless rebel general?" Estelle prompted with inquisitive charm.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal wasted no time in taking a peak at the second pilot's surface thoughts. She wasn't surprised, and, in a way, couldn't blame him. After all, even Milivikal thought she looked good naked. She smiled coyly.

"Yeah..." Mili's pilot said, and then the words began to fall apart. She delicately ran a booted foot up and down his leg. She stopped a moment later.

"Do tell." She said, her voice full of honey, her pale blue eyes twinkled. She gave him a little mental nudge.

"Well, he's supposedly up there in the RebMil, but our Intel boys are better. We've got an inside source, up high. We know when they're gonna hit us with a strike force. We've got to be hot to launch in an hour or so to kill the transport..." the pilot looked at his chrono "...in about two and a half."

"Really?" Estelle asked.

"That's fascinating." Mili said, and leaned her chin into her hand. Her eyes drifted to the other pilot.

"We've been getting some great stuff out of our Intel lately. Bet all they had to do was to throw some creds at the right desk. I heard if you waive a cred at them they'll pretty much drop down on their knees, right there."

"Suckers don't even have an economy." Mili's putty said with a smirk.

"Well, ladies. We've got to go. Have a tick to pop off this dog in a few hours. You going to be free in four hours?"

Milivikal sighed. "No, we're going to be on duty."

"Now that's a damned shame. We wanted to give you two a tour of the flight deck." Estelle's onlooker drawled.

"Really?" Estelle asked. "We only got to see it in training, and only a standalone."

"Oh, it's nothing like the engineering trainers in person." Putty said. "Maybe some other time."

"Well, damn. See you boys around?" Estelle asked.

"For sure." The pair got up. When they were nearly out of earshot, the girls seemed to be giggling at each other.

Once they were out of sight, Milivikal pulled both her hands across her face.

"Frak." They were going to have to figure out how to warn the SpecForce team, and soon. Estelle's mind was already analyzing possibilities as to who the traitor was. The briefing the pilots had was laden with non-obvious clues. That is, if you weren't a spook.

"Estelle." Mili whispered. The operative jerked to attention, and checked her chrono. They needed to be back on shift in fifteen minutes. Frak indeed.

[Samantha Lessard]

The Hope For Change Deck 647:

"We found it on a regular sweep of the area." Rawl was saying, as he and Lessard crept down the darkened corridor. "We're pretty sure it's that back-door frequency you detected earlier."

Sam nodded, her hand going down to her blaster strapped to her left leg. She didn't bother faking her limp now. It was all business. "It is. I figured it out an hour ago." She cringed slightly at the look she was given by the SpecOps member. "Look, Rawl, I didn't know how you'd react if I told you they were coming from offices you use."

"Didn't kno-" Rawl wasn't able to finish his question as Lessard plowed on.

"I thought you guys would find it sooner rather than later." She stopped and put her hand on Rawl's muscular shoulder. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."

Rawl sighed, knowing she was telling the truth. "You should have." Then he grinned and motioned her to follow him. "But we know now. Were any transmissions sent while you were monitoring it?"

Lessard shook her head. "No, there wasn't. It's just an open channel, but no one was sending anything."

The Special Operations offices were located off of a small access corridor of the Calamari Cruiser. Because their missions were considered 'Top Secret', the corridor was hardly ever used and was empty when Lessard and Rawl reached their destination. "The signal's coming from two rooms down." Samantha motioned with one of her hands as the two crept down the hallway.

They'd just reached the doorway, when Rawl threw up a hand. "Here that?" He cocked his head, as if he was hoping to catch it again. "There. Hear that?"

"Yeah." Lessard replied in a whisper, reaching for her blaster while Rawl did the same. "Sounds like a generator or something."

She got a nod from Rawl. "Come on." He pressed a couple buttons and the door slid almost silently open. The two Rebels entered into the dark office, the stars providing the only light within. It took them a moment later to discover what they were hearing. It was a portable computer terminal set up near the back of the office.

They approached it slowly, wary of any booby traps the user may have set up. Lessard was about to access it when she stopped. "Hear that?"

A spray of blaster bolts suddenly came from the other side of the room and Sam felt pain shoot up her shoulder. She fell to the floor, while Rawl returned fire. In the flashes of light, Rawl saw their attacker disappear into a maintanence tube. "I'm okay! I'm okay!" Sam shouted from her position on the floor. "Got get whoever did that!"

As Rawl raced towards the tube, Sam reached for her comlink. "We have a Code Blue. Repeat a Code Blue on Deck 647. All security teams respond." She clicked off the link and swore. "Dammit!"

[Cavalier]

The shadowy figure scurried down the maintenance tube, hoping to escape before the Rebels responded to the security alert. It had been foolish for him to fire upon the intruders, but he hadn't been expecting their appearance and panicked. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He chided himself as he began climbing up a ladder. He made it up two decks when the emergency doors suddenly shut.

Well that figures. He'd expected security to lock down quicker than it had. The Imperial operative pressed a few buttons on the keypad, entering a code he'd been given by one of his superiors. The door slid open and he crawled up another ladder, before using the same code to enter into an empty locker room. A moment later, he was in the outside corridor headed towards Rebel Intel's offices for Cryptography and Analysis.

[Samantha Lessard]

"You okay?" Rawl asked Lessard as the medical droid injected a serum into her shoulder. She'd only been hit by one blaster bolt, but Rawl knew how painful it could be.

"Yeah." Lessard winced as the pain medication took effect. "Did you get him?"

Rawl shook his head. "He got away. Had a code to get through the lockdown. When all the security teams responded, he got lost in the crowd." His troubled look turned thoughtful. "You know, if he's got a code, we should be able to trace it right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem. Just have to isolate it. I should be able to find it after I get out of the bacta tank."

"No need Sam. I'll have one of my guys do it. Get some rest and I'll give you the results later on."

Lessard bit the inside of her lip. "If you say so. I'm just worried you may not be able to trust the results you find."

Rawl gave a half-smile. "If I see anything, I'll let you know." He kissed her forehead. "I'll be okay, Sam."

She nodded and returned his smile. "I know. I know."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar was halfway in th'second power cell when he got th'call. "Engineer what are you doing?"

"Just making sure I didn't leave any other tools inside the power cells, sir." In reality he'd just finished hookin' up th'second mine and was in th'middle o'setting the three hour timer. "There were some more fluctuations on the second cell. I was double checking the figures. They should be working now."

"Mm..yes." Kazaar could tell th'chief was pretty skeptical 'bout th'whole thing. Sure his file said one thing, but sayin' and doin' weren't th'same. And since the Empire liked putting people who cared more 'bout their politikin' than actually doin' work...Kazaar chuckled. Figured they'd get th'only chief engineer who actually wanted th'fracking ship t'run right rather than tellin' his superiors it was. Figures.

"I'm gonna head over to the other power cell for a triple check." Kazaar told the chief, just to make sure he'd placate 'em. "I'm not sure I believe these figures either."

He finalized settin' the timer and was about to slide out of the cell, when he heard th'chief again. "No need. I have someone else checking it now."

Frack. Kazaar had t'set th'last bomb or everything would go t'hell. If that last cell wasn't shut down f'several hours, the SpecForces boys were fracked. Not like th'mission wasn't FUBAR t'begin with.

Th'Rebels gotta break a few minutes later. Whoever genius th'chief decided t'have investigate the third power cell, decided he was gonna cut a live power line inside th'cell. Not only did th'cell hafta be shut down, th'guy who was working on it got himself fried at th'same time. Engineerkabob, Kazaar smirked before keying th'link between he'n his partners.

"Looks like we might have some luck after all." He was pretty happy th'engineer helmets had nose filters. Kad only knew what th'stench was like. "Anything new on th'security setup?"

[Estelle Russard]

"Yes" Estelle answered Kazaar's query perfunctorily,"We got less time than we thought."

Her walk was a clipped stride, Mili keeping step beside her as the two rebels navigated the long corridor towards Engineering. Keeping their shift was key to their cover and so being late was not an option, however, they were not here simply as observers and the latest intel required some sort of action.

"Cowboy, we got no more time for roll playing. Put the Supervisor to bed, then meet us in the hangar bay. Do what damage you can to the TIE's until we join you"

Having about faced in the direction they were travelling, Estelle explained her thoughts to Mili as they retraced their steps. "Those flyboys said the Intel came from high-up. I dont think even Othniel suspects this. I'd like to get into communications and see what kind of chatter has been going on, and from whom. Any suggestions other than clubbing the whole transmissions department over the head and reading their reports..?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k'Vik grinned in a way that made Estelle wonder if she was sane. It was a predator's smirk.

"There are other ways. We need to get close the comm room, and I shall need your help." Mili had been on a Star Destroyer before, but never close to the bridge. She would need Estelle's attention to detail to find a suitable spot to stage her manipulations from.

"We need to be close to the bridge." k'Vik explained. It was not difficult to find a lift that would take them to the super-structure that housed the bridge. In reality, there were two communications rooms. One handled general communications, and the other handled high-priority fleet traffic, which was situated in the bridge. Aside from the briefing rooms near the hangars for pilots and associated work crews, most of the confrence rooms were in the bridge super-structure. The pair entered one of the lifts primarily used by engineers for moving equipment. Their access gave them no trouble, and they headed upward.

"We can use one of the maintaince shafts." Estelle suggested. Cramped, but it would do. Milivikal nodded.

"Do we have bridge access?" Milivikal asked.

"No, unfortunately." Estelle frowned.

"Spit. I shall improvise." The lift stopped, and both departed. Estelle set down her tool kit, and removed the access panel. They crawled in, relieved to see that it had standing room on the other side. Milivikal settled to the ground, legs crossed, and removed her helmet. She let her hair out of the clip, and it fell to her jawline. She placed her hands on her knees. Her breath began to slow, but her brow was furrowed in concentration. Estelle could see Mili's eyes moving rapidly beneath her lids.

Five minutes later, one of the ship's Lieutenants was in front of the access panel.

"Let him in." k'Vik instructed. Estelle looked bewildered, but did it anyway. Eyes still shut, Milivikal beckoned the officer closer with a single finger.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant Porbav." Mili patted the space to her left. Her eyes opened abruptly. She got to her knees and grabbed the back of his head with one hand and his jaw with the other. She began to whisper, a rapid pitch-shifting hiss. Estelle could make none of it out, but Porbav's face looked strained after five minutes, as if he was pulling an all-nighter before an exam. k'Vik, too, looked stressed. Sweat built on her brow. Estelle turned back to her slit into the corridor and kept lookout. She hoped Milivikal would finish whatever she was doing soon, and that Kazaar would keep himself out of too much trouble.

Estelle checked her chrono. How long was this going to take? After nearly twenty minutes, Milivikal stopped. Porbav's face looked haggard, and some of the color had fled from Mili's.

"Thank you for your time, Lieutenant." She said with a nod. "Dismissed." He waited for Estelle to open the hatch. She did after a nod from Milivikal.

"What do you need to listen to?" Mili asked. A moment later, Estelle could hear everything the Lieutenant could.

"He's the comm officer on duty." k'Vik grinned wickedly.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

It was 'bout then they felt th'star destroyer *rumble* and all th'lights went out. "What the hell..?" Estelle raised a brown eyebrow and quickly got on th'comm. "Cowboy?"

A chuckle came over th'comm and Estelle and Milivikal saw emergency lights start t'come on. "Would ya believe, Kid..." He'd stopped fakin' his accent f'now. "The power cells blew early."

Kazaar'd been gettin' ready t'bail outta engineering and head down to th'hangar bay, when an alarm started blarin' on th'console next t'im. "Chief!" Another engineer screamed. "We've got a power spike in Cell Number Two! Massive one, I've never seen this happen before!"

Th'chief pushed aside th'engineer t'look at the readings. "Reduce power to the cells, if the commander asks, tell him I said so!"

"Yes sir!"

By now, Kazaar'd started backin' towards an emergency maintenance shaft. While he wasn't an engineer (and frackin' sucked at playin' one) he had a pretty good feelin' what was going on. Because Cell Number Three'd failed due to the engineerkabob, th'other cells had their output increased t'keep all th'other systems going. That meant there was probably a helluva lot more instability in whatever th'frack those things were made outta anyway, which probably meant one of th'mines had been cracked by a stray bolt of energy.

Kazaar pressed a button on th'shaft and started climbing th'ladder. Which meant it was gonna blow at any minute and it'd probably be best f'him t'bug out while he wasn't bein' noticed.

************************************

"Reduce power by another ten percent!" The chief screamed while trying to keep the fluctuations to a minimum. So far, it wasn't working ('course, he didn't know there was a bomb inside). "We may have to shut the entire thing down to keep it from blowing."

"More fluctuations! This time in Cell Number One!"

The chief cursed. What the hell was going on? "We need to shut it down now! All of it. If we don't we're going to lose the entire shi--" It was then he saw the emergency lockdown doors start closing. It was pretty obvious what was going happen next. "Evacuate! Now!"

He'd just started moving towards the doors, when the cells exploded.

************************************

Kazaar was thrown 'round th'emergency tube like some kinda gizka when th'cells blew. 'Least he wasn't bein' fried like th'rest of the crew in engineerin' and that suited him just fine. In fact, it suited him pretty frackin' well. Nothin' wrong when th'Empire loses a few dozen of their 'finest'. 'Course there was still a whole ship fulla 'em who were gonna be gunnin' for that SpecForces unit (wherever th'frack those mud foots were) but they'd have a helluva lot tougher time finding 'em now.

Th'former bounty hunter just finished tellin' his partners what happened when. "Hey, Kid. Ya hear that?" Somethin' just *crackled* over their comm. There was a pause, then they heard it again.

"-id you see that? The ship just went dark. And there goes the excess fuel..." Whoever was sayin' that wasn't near them.

"Guess the Imperials had an accident. Want to make that our opening?"

"Why not? Let's hit those plastic soldiers now and get the package out!"

"You got it. Okay men, here's the plan. We're hitting the strong point hard and fast. Stay frosty and check your six! If all goes well, beer's on me!"

Kazaar smirked. "Guess we know where th'SpecForces guys are. Wanna try t'wave 'em off?"