Jileeza and Wayde are the first ones back to the hangar, with Bolan close on their heels. Aurelia's ripping refueling lines and power cables from the Chance's hull as fast as she can. The big ship's engines are already powering up as the Ithorian worldship takes another shuddering hit.

Arnae brings the sensors up to see two Imperial Star Destroyers in close formation. They've closed to near-point blank range and are selectively bombarding the engine banks and any weapons emplacements they can spot on the Spirit of Ithor.

Wayde pounds his fist into a bulkhead.

Sonuva, I thought we already left this party...again.

Grabbing his commlink, he relays the current situation to the rest of his crew. That done, he tactfully plots a lightspeed course to another neutral system...somewhere completely devoid of life and value.

Contingently, Wayde also prepares for "SD Manuever 213" from Solo's Guide to Imperial Evasion.

Erit's voice comes through the commlink, sounding hurried.

"Mak and I will be joining you shortly. Please don't get yourself killed in the meantime."

Rushing toward the ship with Wayde and Bolan, Jilleza cannot miss noting the hurried efforts toward departure. Dashing aboard, her eyes grow large as she watches the images of the two imperial craft form on-screen. "Shit!" she says, succinctly. "We gotta get the fuck out of here," she murmurs, looking over at Wayde as he punches flight info into the nav computer.

With little else to do, 'Za wanders up the her usual seat in the autocannon turret. Of course, it's less than useless against those monstrosities, but slightly better if the bastards send TIEs out after them.

A thought occurs to 'Za and she thumbs the comm. "Anyone else think these might be the same two Destroyers that were supposed to show up in the attack on Sallust, but didn't?"

Quote:

Quote: from fanchergw on 2:48 pm on July 6, 2004
"Anyone else think these might be the same two Destroyers that were supposed to show up in the attack on Sallust, but didn't?"

Wayde rolls his eyes as Captain Obvious.

"If they aren't, then I've seriously doubted how infamous we've become as of late..."

As muffled thooms and bamfs shudder throughout the worldship, a message is picked up and broadcast over the Spirit of Ithor's speakers - even the Chance picks up a scratchy rendition. An educated-sounding Imperial accent tinged with cruelty echoes through every operating speaker:

"For the next four hours, your worldship and everything on it belongs to me. At the end of that time, we will leave. Whether or not we leave you drifting lifeless in a field of debris is your choice."

Quote:

Quote: from admiralducksauce on 9:26 am on July 9, 2004

"For the next four hours, your worldship and everything on it belongs to me. At the end of that time, we will leave. Whether or not we leave you drifting lifeless in a field of debris is your choice."

"I'll give 'em credit for their honesty, although I'm guessing the lifeless in a field of debris is more of a promise than a threat."

She's dealt with this type enough times in the past not to trust a word they say. Jilleeza snorts in derision.

Wayde's voice comes over the comm. "No shit, Wayde. Kick in the engines and let's get the fuck out of here!"

The officer's statement of intentions strikes a fuse with Mak, and he mutters quite a few swears to the commlink and his surroundings.

"...little piece of fascist shit. First messing with my progress of spiritually understanding the universe, then threatning to destroy one of the few places I actually like."

(Edited by CuteMotherFucker at 6:50 pm on July 9, 2004)

Arnae manages a chuckle at Mak's quip. He pipes back through the comlink,

"Easy, Tiger, they don't sound any worse than my last wife. Now board up so we can [/i]burn it up.[/i]"

Leaving the shields down but kicking in the repulsors, Arnae brings the ship hovering half a meter above the deck, with the ramp still down and waiting. The engines are roaring with pent-up energy, ready to blast the stolen freighter past thew blockade and to freedom.

Everyone scrambles aboard the Chance and Arnae closes the ramp and guns the engines. Their freighter screams out of the hangar bay and into a maelstrom of laser fire!

The inertial dampeners, overworked by the upgraded ion engines, shove everyone into their seats as Arnae slides the Chance out of the fire fight between the two Star Destroyers and what's left of the Ithorian worldship's defenses. Several other small freighters, shuttles, and transports have had similar ideas, all evacuating the Spirit of Ithor within minutes. A Gallofree transport goes up in a fireball off the Chance's port side; twisted metal shrapnel spangs off the hull a split second later.

Erit and Mak both feel a fleeting dark presence float across their minds and the imminent feeling of danger they felt in the jungle returns.

The Star Destroyers each launch a swarm of TIEs, which spread out to pursue the escaping ships.

Wayde's almost done locking in hyperspace coordinates, all the while looking furtively at the experimental "Go Anywhere!" button he installed not 2 hours before...

Erit makes his way to the sensors console.

"Do you think they're here for us?"

One hand tweaking the nav-coordinates, the other on the [color=red:326c971734]GO ANYWHERE[/color] (TM) button, Wayde hopes the ship will stay together.

"Keep those TIEs off our tail, I'd hate to see where the big red button takes us!"

"Gotcha, boss!" Jileeza calls into the comm. Admittedly, her little autocannon isn't the best for dissuading the TIEs, but she's happy to unleash it in their direction anyway.

Aurelia puts her hand on the bulkhead as the ship preps.

"C'mon baby...you can do it..."

The ship's intercom rasps tinny as Arnae shouts into it--which is just as well, as the crew can hear his bellowing fairly well without its aide.

"Tell me you have those turrets manned, you mynock-lovers!"

Focusing his anxiety, Arnae grips the yoke in one hand and the throttle in the other and does what he does best.

The mynock-lovers slide into the turret controls just as the Chance rocks violently towards the closest Star Destroyer - a tractor beam trying and failing to lock onto their small signature. A blaze of blue-white ion bolts and bright green turbolasers follows, miraculously missing the freighter.

Laser fire streaks past, impacting the surface of the Ithorian worldship behind them, adding impetus to Arnae's already envelope-pushing maneuvers. Two wings of TIEs break off in pursuit as Wayde punches in the final coordinates and keys in the hyperdrive.

Down in the turrets, Mak and Jileeza score hits on one of the four TIEs. It shatters and disintegrates in a firey maelstrom, while its fellows fire harmlessly past the Chance, the long range and erratic turns and rolls ruining any chance they had at catching the freighter.

*THOOM*

A extreme-range turbolaser bolt hits the aft of the Chance, dropping the deflectors like a sack of potatoes and shaking everyone aboard to the bone. The warning tones announcing an air leak spread throughout the cockpit and cabin - the upper turret mounting took the brunt of the damage. Mak's buffeted by a whirlwind and looks up his turret access ladder to see the turret hatch opposite him cycle shut automatically.

Wayde shouts that the coordinates are locked in and for the second time in as many trips, the Second Chance screams into hyperspace amongst Imperial laser fire.

Aboard the Spirit of Ithor

White-shelled stormtroopers, clashing with the rich greens and browns of the interior jungle, spread out through the foliage. Blaster shots ring out here and there as Ithorian fauna fall victim to trigger-happy Imperial weapons. A central entourage consisting of a handful of Imperial officers and a Falleen in dark purple moves with purpose towards a shallow lake, rescued in its entirety from the surface of Ithor.

The green-skinned reptilian alien raises its arms, hands outstretched towards the water, which clouds with dark silt in response. As the strain threatens to overcome the Force user, something lifts free of the lake floor, sending bubbles bursting through the cloudy water.

---
Back aboard the Chance

"Son a Sith!" spits Molan. "You fellas know how to wear out a welcome, that's for sure. Where are we headed, cap'n?"

A cursory check of the hyperspace coordinates puts the Chance in Nar Shaddaa in about four to six hours.

Although they are rapidly putting distance between them and the worldship, Erit feels the pain of his brethren - or maybe it's just his conscience, because he can't shake the feeling that these Imperials came for him.

He gets up from his seat at the sensor console, looks around wordlessly and skulks off to the Second Chance's cargo bay to look after his plants.

"No sooner we get this hunk o' bolts together, some asshole has to go and punch holes into it."

Wayde grabs the closet hydrospanner and makes for some damage control.