Chains of the Hive

[Fyl Terrano]

Staring up the turbolift shaft, Fyl realized that his situation was just about impossible.

He couldn't be sure how far down he'd come, but the estimate he could come up with wasn't encouraging; from where he was, he couldn't even see the massive transpairisteel viewport into the agridomes that they'd passed on the way down. He could probably climb for hours, if his leg would even permit five minutes, and still be nowhere near the hangar level. He needed a plan besh, and he needed it yesterday. Already he could feel his grip weakening on the rock wall, feel the waves of pain emanating from his leg sapping his strength. Going back was not an option - the Jailers would have that way fully covered, and he'd be stunned and beaten before he was halfway out of the shaft.

A sudden breeze provided his salvation. He looked down as the air rushed up at him to see an oncoming turbolift car, preparing to stop at his level; apparently reinforcements were being deployed from the secure lower levels. It trundled to a stop within arm's reach, and he stretched as far as he could, fingertips brushing the durasteel car while still keeping him anchored to the wall. He couldn't quite make it; he would have to push off and jump. He looked down, and immediately regretted it. The shaft dropped away into utter darkness. If he fell, he'd be screaming for minutes before he hit the bottom. Closing his eyes, he leaned back, braced himself against the rock, and kicked off.

Fyl slammed into the side of the elevator car, and for a moment he thought he was karked. His fingers scrambled to find holds on the slick metal as he shifted backwards, slowly drifting down like a bug sliding from a landspeeder's windshield. His feet kicked madly, trying to push him further up. For a heart-stopping moment, he was sure he would fall. But finally he found purchase on some outcrop of metal, managing to level himself to top of the car and to find a few places to cling to. It wasn't a moment too soon. Apparently this car wasn't here for him, because it barely paused. After loading a group of Jailers, it hurled upward, pushing Fyl against the metal with incredible force.

It took everything he had to keep holding on, to avoid being torn free by rushing wind as the car accelerated upward toward whatever disturbance was going on above...

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]​

 

[RC 212]

Loadout1:

• Dragoon Heatbeam
• S-3 Mangler Sonic pistol
• G-35 Assault Rifle-2x Attachments

• Under-barrel tensor cannon
• K-40 Under-barrel grenade launcher
  6x- >>>Brimstome round
• 3x-Tangler Grenade:

• G-35 Shooting: Fireball Ammo
• Gypsy Spacer Outfit
• Scanner Droids
• Rebel Corusca Signet Ring
• Mad Explosives:: Proton Charges w/Adhesive Strips
• Lightsaber (Hidden)

Something wasn't right and she could feel it in her gut. They all pulled back and the booms and explosions stopped. Despite this she took full advantage of the brief reprieve to peek out from behind the ship.

"Looks like they got us in tractor beam projectors!"

"Heh, kids play," she replied, loading up another brimstone round. One of these babies to the side of the projector would break it, leaving em about half a ship under gravity. The Ships thrusters would be strong enough to break away, she'd just have to pull her custom trick.

"Let's see if they- *Cough*"

"What- *Cough**Cough*"

"GAS!"

"Frak me!"

She cut off her breath and Worsh did too. Instead of destroying the tractor beam with the grenade she sprinted up the ramp, chest pounding as her vision grew darker. Worsh followed her to where they had their space lockers set up. The first thing she did was rip her suit free of the lockers and scramble into it.

Just before she thought she might collapse she slid the helmet on and exhaled. The seals delivered a satisfying click as she did.

"Thirty minutes of reserve O2. That's all we got."

"Let's get back at it then and fast like. Worsh grab some extra explosives and blow those tractor beams to hell. I got you covered."

They exited, Worsh rigged up the charges with her covering his back. This time she drew her sonic pistol in the left hand, and kept her lightsaber in the right. One wop from that baby and the bugs insides would be liquid, which was way easier than cracking a carpace with a bullet.

"Hurry it up!"

Whoever these bugs were, they were getting real annoying, and she was of half a mind to slag this whole planet on her way out. Or come back with an armada. Wherever here was exactly...

 

[The Hive Warden]

The meat was once again proving... unexpectedly resourceful and resilient. Perhaps a further escalation was in order.

Yol'ShoValko'Warden was bound not to kill any of its prisoners. The Force-users contained on the lowest level were the only exception - they were too dangerous to contain by normal methods, and could be blown out into vacuum at the push of a button. All of the others were protected; they were here because some government somewhere wanted them kept alive. Intruder meat, however, was different. It was a bonus to be able to capture them, for then they could be sold into slavery or forced to work the agridomes, but it was not necessary for Valko's continued cash flow. Now that these interlopers were proving too troublesome to be worth enslaving, it was better to kill them.

The hive keeper gave its orders. New squads of Jailers would advance through the gas, their insectoid biology unaffected. All it would take to bring these attackers down would be to rupture their environment suits - the gas would do the rest in under a minute. So the Jailers had switched weaponry. Where before they attacked with stun blasters, now they had brought out their flechette launchers, boxy shoulder-mounted weapons that fired a lethal cloud of metal flak. The weapons were incredibly devastating at close range, even against Jedi - with their shotgun-like spread, they could move easily around lightsaber parries. And now, even a single glancing hit could end this encounter.

The two doors that had not been breached slid open, and squads of fifteen Jailers charged through each of the three doors, firing madly with their flechette launchers. It was important to keep the meat on the defensive, and to drive them back into the ship if possible. Weight of numbers would eventually bring them down, and it was important to achieve that goal before they could finish destroying the tractor beam projectors and escape. Yol'ShoValko'Warden took personal command of the senses of these Jailer squads, granting them uncanny coordination and improving their accuracy. The honor of Valko was on the line. It would make any sacrifice to prevent this escape.

 

[Fyl Terrano]

Mercifully, the turbolift finally came to a stop. Atop it, still hanging on for dear life as his fingers cramped and his skin felt like fire from windburn, Fyl felt as though he'd been fired from a hypervelocity cannon. It hadn't seemed that fast when he'd been inside the elevator, but from the outside... well, his perception had changed dramatically. Within the turbolift more than a dozen Jailers readied their weapons, then stormed out into the corridor beyond. And then, all at once, the elevator began to drop again. Fyl knew immediately that he would be torn off and fall to his death if he stayed another second. Forcing himself up, he jumped for it, using all his remaining strength.

His stolen deck sweeper dropped from his grasp, tumbling end over end into the shaft far below.

His injured leg buckled beneath him as the turbolift car dropped away, and he slammed into the lower ledge of the elevator hard, driving the wind from his lungs. Somehow, though, he held on. Swinging his feet, he managed to plant them against the rock walls, bracing his back against a perpendicular wall so that he could wedge himself into the corner. His one bare foot helped with traction - the shoes they'd given him had slick bottoms, and he would have slipped and fallen if he'd still been wearing both. He took deep, gasping breaths, regaining some of his strength and sense of stability. He'd made it up from the lower levels; he was probably the only prisoner who had done that.

Of course, he was still a long way from escaping. He could only hope that this disturbance represented some kind of help, and that was a long shot.

Finally steady enough to climb again, Fyl moved up to the grate above the elevator doors and bashed in through, sending it clattering down to the floor of the corridor beyond. Immediately he drew back, coughing - an opaque white gas was filling the corridor, thick and cloying. He'd gotten lucky so far, he reflected, but this might be where his luck ran out. He had no idea which way to go, and he would pass out in thirty seconds or less once he dropped into the hallway. So he stayed where he was for a moment, listening to the commotion happening somewhere beyond and trying to figure out which of the branching corridors he should take. He would only get one chance.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]​

 

[RC 212]

[member="The Hive Warden"] [member="Fyl Terrano"]

They were just about out of the trouble when more jailors showed up. This time her danger sense prickled. Worsh was the first to see them and he clamped a fishy [paw down on the woman, dragging her through the breach in the wall they had created as flechette launchers sprayed. Seraya cursed. A single fragment dented her mask, spider-webbing the glasteel.

"They got scatter guns!"

"No kidding. Hold my beer. Make another hole. There's too many of them. We gotta bail!"

"The tractor beam?"

"Blow it, hurry!"

She turned the corner, exposing herself and peering through her cracked visor. Two actions happened in quick succession. She launched a tangler grenade, and then jammed the launcher open, slamming home her last Brimstone round. The Tangler grenade exploded, shooting steel cables in all directions like a living spider web. Jailors would be swept off their feet as they were snagged up and tossed and wrapped by the cables.

WHUMPF

The Brimstone round came next, raining white hot flame and shrapnel down upon them. The smoke was so thick now there was no seeing. The flechette guns still presented a hazard and she doubted they got all of them.

"Status?"

"One sec!"

"We don't have a sec fish brains, DO IT!"

She put up both palms, dropping the rifle and erecting a hasty force barrier as Worsh detonated the explosives. The tractor beams and the floor behind them ceased to exist. White hot shrapnel and shotty rounds smashed against the shield wall, and she gritted her teeth, holding that barrier with all her determination.

"Hey it's a dude down here! He's got a hat!"

"That's our guy, get him!"

Worsh threw a section of rope down, tied it off to his waist and joined her on the other side of the breech, rotary cannon warming up as the barrels spun....

 

[The Hive Warden]

Yol'ShoValko'Warden nodded silently. Despite the heavy casualties the Jailers were taking, the situation was gradually being contained.

The intruders had not been able to progress significantly past the hangar bay, and the prisoner containment areas remained secure. Whatever the meat had hoped to accomplish by coming here, it was confident that they had failed. They would be driven back into their ship, and even if they somehow managed to escape, it would mean little in the scheme of things. Fresh spawnings of Jailers would replace the losses that had been suffered, and the reputation of the prison as inescapable would remain intact. As explosions ripped through the hangar bay, finally demolishing the tractor beam projectors, the hive keeper remained content. It did not care about revenge.

But then, through the eyes of one of the attack squads, it spotted another human-thing through the haze of gas, crawling on the ground like a slug. One of the other meat threw a rope to him, dragging him through the haze while withering covering fire kept the Jailers down. It took Yol'ShoValko'Warden a moment to recognize the newcomer: the Terrano-meat. How he could possibly have gotten this far, it could not comprehend. When last it had been aware of him, two full squads had converged on his position - two sublevels down. Whatever the truth, this cast a new light on proceedings. No prisoner could be permitted to escape. It would ruin Valko's reputation.

The Jailers redoubled their efforts, throwing themselves into the fray no matter their losses. Yol'ShoValko'Warden could barely think through all the death...

 

[Fyl Terrano]

Fyl wasn't entirely sure how he'd been able to make it this far. He only knew that he'd seized his chance.

After listening for the commotion, he'd gambled that it was coming from the hangar bay. He had no idea why that would be the case, but it seemed like the only possible place for any intruder to breach would be the entrance. He'd taken the deepest breath he could and sprinted through the gas, trying to follow the distant sounds. More than once he'd hit a locked door or dead end, and he'd soon run out of air. Each lungful of gas threatened to put him under and drag him down into a sleep that would keep him here forever, but he had fought through for as long as he could, even as his vision began to darken and his muscles began to refuse to obey his commands.

And then someone threw him a rope - literally. The wall beside him exploded, spilling the gunfight in the hangar into the corridors beyond. And Fyl grabbed that rope, letting whoever it was haul him in. He could feel himself losing consciousness, feel the world going black around him. He could only hope that his rescuers would be able to finish the job and escape, because for now, he was out of the fight. Oblivion closed over him like the waters of the sea, and as he was hauled into the hangar and the ship that waited beyond, he fell into dark dreams of times he would rather forget, of friends he had lost and promises he had broken, of pain, but also of hope.

Around him, the storm still raged. His survival was in the hands of others now.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]​