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Thread: A Lesson in Trust

  1. #61
    It was all the confirmation Lúka needed. Within a moment they were both on the move, advancing down the corridor in perfect sync, pistols drawn. Two pirate figures appeared from a doorway off to the right; immediately they succumbed to a double-tap to the chest, one delivered from each of the Imperials. A few yards were gained, a glance cast at Jeryd to confirm that he was watching the corridor before Lúka stepped into position to clear the inside; but it was barely needed, not a word uttered between them, training and instincts and the Force guiding their actions.

    As Lúka stepped back from the doorway - a makeshift bunk room, a few rusty frames and dirty mattresses; nothing worthy of attention - a figure appeared around the corridor intersection ahead, blaster rifle in hand. Lúka turned to react, but Jeryd reacted faster, a blaster shot striking an exposed knee that the pirate hadn't fully tucked behind cover. The gunman stumbled, falling into view, and Lúka dispatched him with a quick shot between the eyes. A glance was exchanged, a quick nod of gratitude given, and then the Knights were on the move again, Lúka pausing for a moment to retrieve the gunman's rifle.

    A few more yards, a turn in the corridor, and then the next doorway. The Knights took positions either side of the frame; Lúka gave Jeryd the nod to trigger the door control, rifle held ready to dispatch whoever was inside. The metal plate shot aside rapidly, and the room's lone occupant reacted, turning away from the bank of security monitors to nervously aim a blaster towards the door. Shots from Lúka's commandeered rifle caught him in the groin, stomach, and chest, slumping him back against the security desk, and then down onto the floor.

    Lúka stepped inside, and to the side, clearing a path before he beckoned for Jeryd to follow. Repositioning himself in the doorway, covering the corridor in both directions, he gestured with a jerk of his head towards the surveillance equipment. "We're looking for wherever they store their valuables," he explained, pausing for a quick moment to fell another pirate with twice as many perfectly-aimed shots to the head than were needed. "We're looking for a secure door, Captain's Quarters, a gap in their surveillance coverage - anything that seems out of place."
    Last edited by Lúka Jibral; Jul 7th, 2018 at 09:53:38 AM.

  2. #62
    "Got it."

    Jeryd advanced into the surveillance room, and occupied the dead man's seat. The security panel was unfamiliar to him, its layout lacked the elegant simplicity of an Imperial system; there were screens and switches everywhere, and a half-eaten sandwich on the console. He tossed it to the floor next to the body.

    "Okay, anything out of place..." he repeated quietly to himself, performing a regimented sweep of every screen on the terminal. In half of the images he didn't even know what he was looking at, and in the other half, there was nothing particularly noteworthy: scruffy dorms, empty corridors, large open spaces littered with storage containers, a kitchen, a mess hall. There was nothing. The thirty seconds that passed felt like a lifetime. In his desperation, Jeryd started playing with switches, to see what happened. Displays changed, swapped, zoomed in, zoomed out, changed angles. In his haste, he didn't seem to be making any sense of the controls. He'd seen the same storage crate now from three different directions.

    Any moment now, he thought, Lúka would be upon him, to demand he stepped aside for a professional. He could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head, as the last fragments of his patience shattered. An itchy heat started to trickle up his neck and encroach upon his face. Once again, his gaze dashed from image to image, searching for a clue. There was nothing: no safe, no extra security, no reinforced doors, just the same stupid crate over and over again.

    "Wait," he said, suddenly, cycling back to the last image of the crate. It was about the length and width of a single bed, and about as tall as an average human, but most notably, it was alone. Another switch flicked, and there was the same solitary storage crate, but from a different angle, another switch, and again, it was the same crate. Jeryd rose at last.

    "That's it," he said, pointing to the screen, "It has to be."

    His apprehension evaporated. The strength of his conviction went beyond confidence, it was something else. And yet, despite his sudden certainty, he couldn't shake the thought that, had it been Jensen, he would've figured it out in half the time.

  3. #63
    Lúka glanced in the direction of what Jeryd had discovered. From this distance, it seemed like nothing but a nondescript shipping container, but something about it had caught the Cadet's attention. Part of Lúka wanted to step over and study the findings for himself, review and confirm Jeryd's suspicions with his own. But no: that was not why Cadet Redsun was here. This was not a training exercise, not a subject for review and grading. He trusted Redsun for a mission of this sensitivity. He had trusted him to extract the necessary information that had led them here; trusted him to run point on their infiltration into the building. If this had been a test, Redsun would have thus far passed each stage of it. There was no reason to entertain any speculation that this current instance was any different.

    "Alright, Jeryd."

    He made a point of using the familiar address, balancing the dynamic between them into something with a little more equilibrium. Much as his nascent Jedi instincts begged for their interactions to resemble that of Master and Padawan, in this instance it was the concept of equal operatives that served as the common ground for their understanding, and so that was the configuration that Lúka chose to adopt.

    "It's your theory."

    He stepped out into the corridor, and then backwards, clearing the pathway for Jeryd to exit.

    "You're on point."

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