Faction Escape from Eden (Darkwire)

[Anakin Stormrunner]

Nim had no idea that Darkwire was here. Her options were limited to what little Xan had told her. So when music blasted through the speakers, when gates swung open and cuffs unlocked, she knew she was on her own.

This was it. This was their moment. Here they fought.

They could die, Nim knew. They could rush forward only to be swallowed by the monstrous machine. They could sing retribution only for it to die gored and gurgling in their throats. It didn’t matter.

She wouldn’t let these chains be placed on them. So she bared her teeth in a wyrm’s snarl and prayed to Leia for strength.

Rage pounded through her blood, growing stronger with every crimson drop she spilled.

The first guard fell with ease, the second soon to follow. Surprise leaving them exposed to her shackle wrapped fists. It was the third that finally put up a fight.

He’d lost his gun. It was the first thing she noticed. Instead he wielded a machete, it’s monoblade thin enough to cut through just about anything. He came at her from the side, his blade swinging towards her neck. Chance led her to notice him. Luck led her to jump out of the way. They danced around the battlefield, if her clumsy twists and dives could be called such. It was impossible to get close.

Left, right, duck, roll, again and again.

The motions became repetitive and with repetition came exhaustion. She was flagging. She knew it, and the gleam in the man’s eyes told her he did too.

The next blow came, and she slid backwards. One foot skating above the ground, the next jumping to keep up. The two tangled together, sending her toppling to the ground. He loomed above her, blocking out the artificial lights from above. This was it. This was where she died.

Muscled arms held the sword high. Tears glinted in the corners of her eyes. Then all was dark. She’d closed her eyes, face pinched into a mask of fear. Later, she’d tell herself it was so he wouldn’t see her cry, a futile attempt at control at the end. Now, she knew it was because she was too terrified to face her demise with open eyes.

It was luck that saved her. Luck and a rusted pipe. It skewered the man from behind, piercing his neck and spewing arterial spray across her face. It was the warmth of the blood that snapped her eyes open.

Above her stood a man. His red skin painfully pale; his lekku dangerously thin. When he saw her, he smiled and extended his hand. “You okay, Nima?” The Ryl word slipping off his tongue. It had become a common name for her among the twi’leks of the labor camp. They said it meant gift, and they thanked her for the power that she brought them. Not a power that any freeborn would recognize, but the power to choose that all slaves yearn for.

“I am now.” She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, eyeing her broken jaw.

“You shou-” He didn’t get to finish. Where moments ago, he supported her weight, she now holds desperately to his limp form.

There’s a hole in his head. She notes through the shock. It smolders from the cauterizing effects of the plasma. He’s dead, comes a few seconds later, when the smell of burning flesh hits her nose. It’s acrid and metallic, like the scent of rain sizzling through iron streets.

When she looks up, she sees bodies. The dead are everywhere. They pile across the floor in pools of their own blood and piss. They’re losing. It;s plain enough to see once she begins to look. She’s led them into a slaughter.

No.

She didn’t cause this, but by steel and steam she was going to end it.

“To me!” Nim calls. The mob is slow to respond, but a few heed her call and before long, more follow.

“Head to the tunnels!” We can lose them in the walls.” She usher’s them into the maintenance tunnels, watching from the door as slaves rush through. Others take different paths. Some have pilfered blasters and now stand guard at the various escape routes.


Only when the last of them is through does she follow. A call to arms brings others to her again, and she leads them through the passages.

It is dark in the tunnels. Ancient yellowing lights long since shattered in their sockets. The other slaves have scattered before her, leaving her with a fraction of those that had fled into the walls. It’s easy to get lost in this place of shadow and aging rust. She can only pray that Ar-amu would guide the lost. In turn, Nim would guide those that have followed her.

• Nim leads the group of twenty deeper into the walls.
• Part way through, an older amavikka woman begins speaking with her.
• It is revealed that this woman knew her before she was captured.
• They talk more, and the readers would preferably build up a connection to the woman.
• As they come to a junction, Nim goes to lead them right.
• They suddenly hear gunfire and Nim collapses to the ground
  • The guard wields a bullet filled blaster. Considered exceptionally cruel for the bleeding it can cause.
  • She is shot in the gut. It misses vital organs, but has severely hindered her ability to move and could prove to be fatal if not treated
• A guard is revealed in a hidden passage to the left of the junction, directly opposite Nim.
• The guard goes to fire again, but the old woman lunges into the hallway.
  • She wields a stolen blaster.

She shoots, and the guard goes down with a hole in his chest

• The guard shoots, and she goes down with a hole in her neck and arterial spray splashing once more across Nim’s face and hands.
• Nim stands there in shock and pain.
• She closes the woman’s eyes and whispers a prayer for her
• The sound of nearby gunshots draw her out of her stupor
• After her injury, she leads the others towards the fourth floor pharmacy and hopes it is not over run with guards
• When they arrive, it is populated by other slaves who now wield stolen guns.
• The broken cuffs on Nim’s hands seem useless in comparison.
• Now at some measure of safety, Nim gets medical help.
• The pharmacy does not have bacta, but the bullet went all the way through so she is able to stick some synth flesh on as a temporary fix and stem the immediate fear of bleeding out.
• The post ends with Nim reflecting on the dire situation and the encroaching corpsec reinforcements.
  

Daiya Xan Deesa Zole Doc Painless Cartri Keswoll Cassus Akovin

Author's Note: Due to real life problems, I kept delaying this post. In the end, I decided to go ahead and send what I was able to complete and finish the bulleted parts when I am able. Please dm me on Chaos or the Darkwire Discord if you have any clarifying questions about what happens in this.

 

[Doc Painless]

The Doc wished this was his first time in a sewer... but had you really lived on Denon if you hadn't crawled through sewage?

It was nice to have his olfactory filters active, blocking out the putrid smell of the runoff chute, but there was no hiding the texture... or the sound. Ankle-deep sludge squelched around the Doc's boots, a vile combination of fast food grease, spent coolant, and the excreted waste of dozens of different species. It didn't bear thinking about. He distracted himself by considering all of the relationship drama that had suddenly dropped on him. Xan and Cartri had been roommates, but now she was pretending she was dead rather than reunite with him? There had been some kind of dramatic falling-out between Cartri and Daiya? It was all news to the street medic.

But then, he'd never had the inside scoop on the drama. He'd always been kind of been the team dad, trying to be supportive of everyone but largely unaware of the teen soap opera playing out around him. He was reminded again of just how young these runners were, so terribly young to be a part of this war against the corpo-fascists that were running their world. He'd had struggles at their age, sure, navigating (badly) the confusing world of first loves and of dreams for his own future clashing hard with reality... but he'd done it in a safe, sheltered place, without a tenth of the danger and pressure they were facing. He hated that this was the way they had to grow up.

But he couldn't change any of that. Not until the CAD fell, and no one had to grow up that way anymore.

So he just murmured "Sorry, didn't know" as Xan expressed her frustration and poor Cartri his disbelief. The street medic turned to the poor lad, who was gagging from the stench, and passed him a filter mask. "Over your nose and mouth," he instructed. "And don't jostle it too much. If you maintain the seal, you'll block the smell, but you've got to keep the adhesive edges anchored or it'll still leak in." The two of them moved along the culvert for a couple hundred meters, the Doc trying not to look down at what he was stepping in, before they reached it: an interior access hatch. There were all sorts of sneaky ways to open it, hacking systems and such.

But the distraction was already underway, so why waste time? The Doc drew his blaster and shot the lock off.

With one blow of his mighty cybernetic fist, the street medic sent the hatch flying upward, into the space beyond. He was immediately forced to scramble backward as dirty water cascaded from the opening, spattering his front and splashing into the slop at his feet. He choked and spat, wiping at his face with his relatively clean sleeve, trying to keep from tasting the sewer as well as wading in it. "Oh, feth," he said, gagging. "They never put this chit in the holovids." With a final spit to clear his mouth, he hauled himself through the broken hatch... and out into a public 'fresher. It had to be a guard locker room, if it was down on the lowest level of the mall.

The three confused, naked security personnel standing by the showerheads pretty much confirmed that.

The Doc, halfway out of the hatch, looked up at them and smiled dumbly. "Oh. Uh, hi, fellas. I was hoping all of you had responded to the alert by now." There was a long pause. "Shift change," said a burly Nikto, finally breaking the silence, staring down at the smelly, disheveled man who'd popped out of the shower drain. "We was about to go home. We ain't paid enough to respond to an alert at shift change." The Doc theatrically slapped his forehead... while carefully averting his eyes from all sorts of dangling bits. "Of course! Shift change. That's, ah... That's bad timing for us both, then. What do you say we, ah..."

The heavyset human man beside the Nikto piped up. "Pretend this never happened?"

"Yeah," the Doc said, hauling himself out of the drain. "Let's do that. Nothing to see here, have a nice evening." As the guards turned away to get dressed, carefully ignoring the Darkwire infiltrators, the street medic offered Cartri a hand. "Sounds like things are in full swing up there," he said, listening as loud music blared and blasterfire rang out on the levels above. "Xan... I mean, our contact should have the cells open by now. Let's head up toward the prison levels and find the prisoners an extraction route. I'll follow your lead." He checked the charge on his blaster, then fell into step beside his young companion, ready to fight if necessary.

He didn't know that Daiya was about to derail his little plan to commandeer the CAD ships on the top level...

Zole | Xan Deesa | Cartri Keswoll | Cassus Akovin
Anakin Stormrunner | Daiya​

 

[Roan Helfast]

Escape from Eden
The Sword Devil​

Nearly there. Nearly there. The mantra played in his head as he ran through the dark. And then he leapt from the top of an office complex. Falling through the night, he crashed down into a roll onto the roof of the Eden Shopping Center. If the Corpos had thought to post any guards up here, they appeared to be absent. But then, huge buildings had huge rooftops. Best to play it quiet.

Drawing a Melody from his waist, he crept low to an access hatch nearby. The skyline overhead was a lighted spectacle, full of empty promises of prosperity. Well, they were empty here in District 9 anyway. This place's fortunes certainly hadn't changed for the better after Xopsaloff bit the big one. Not that Roan blamed the assassins one bit. Their plan had been sound; killing a Corpo was always the right call. But why murder one big one when you could slaughter a mall full of little ones? His shortsword hummed through the maintenance lock like it wasn't there, and he was in.

His target was the security office here on the 20th floor, hence the rooftop entrance. The outlet stores on the highest level were few and spaced out, and Roan couldn't help but notice their gates had been raised. No prisoners in sight up here. They certainly worked fast.

Ope, nevermind. From around the corner came an emaciated trio of elderly Zabraks hustling towards him. They wore essentially rags, and their faces were full of terror. At their age, running at that speed had to be scary. No wait, it was the pair of droid hounds with steel teeth they were afraid of. The ones closing in at their heels with jaws agape. That made more sense.

The three old folks didn't seem too excited to be running towards a masked stranger holding a vibrosword. But then, stopping wasn't exactly and option. Giving him a wide berth, they rushed past him down the concourse as he pulled a small deactivator from him belt and began firing indiscriminately. Small EMPs filled the droids' path, and they fell prone, legs locking up as their systems attempted to recover. Walking casually up to the hounds, a few quick stabs at the seams of their armor plates stopped their incessant alarm howls.

Roan stashed his blade and his deactivator. These droids had likely been deployed from the mall's main security hub on this floor, which served as the guards' base of operations for the entire makeshift prison. He set off in the direction the dogs had come from, hoping to find their handler just around the next corner.

 

[Xan Deesa]

Xan was growing more annoyed with each passing second that people either whinged or argued with her. On one end she had Cartri who was quite understandably not happy with her sudden shift in voice. Her real voice. She knew that avoiding him was only going to make things worse and now she was getting a taste of what was to come. "Fine, stick with the Doc. Last thing I need now is more kids complaining in my ears about their issues." She fired back with a sigh, deciding to use her masked voice again.

In the mall itself, the slaves were busy karking up their own escape royally. And without any electronics, she couldn't coordinate with them at all and with them blundering into the maintenance tunnels, it made her job that much harder. At least it was only one part of the group, on the other floors the slaves seemed to overwhelm the guards properly. Coupled with the assault by the gate she was confident at least that the operation would be a success... only variable was the casualties. "Alright, listen up kiddies." Her voice broke out over the speakers in the pharmacy and other areas where the slaves were held up. "Give the guns to the ones who can use 'em. The rest of you, arm yourselves with whatever and stick close. I'll guide you guys to an exit point. You stick together and you overwhelm anyone that stops you. I'll help you guys to know where the guards are." She explained to them quickly. Immediately other projectors in the mall came to life with arrows and other indicators of where the guards were, while others showed the way to the exit. She couldn't teach them to shoot, but at least she could tell them where their enemy was waiting for them. "Once their lines are broken, we'll get you guys out of here and to safety."

Only another variable cropped up, this time with one of the two kids she was going to strangle when she got a body again.

"For kriff's sake, Daiya, I'm not going to argue with you now." Her voice exploded in her helmet as her face appeared in Daiya's HUD. "Cartri is going into the prison so congrats, you're on your own like you wished. But if you destroy those ships, I will let every single guard in this vicinity know where you are." She threatened with fury dripping in her voice. "Now karking listen up. The slaves in that prison are too many to move on foot and they need to get off-world most likely, we need these ships. We'll get Belaruza back for your friend soon. But for now you're Darkwire. Your fight is here." Her voice softened towards the end as she spoke. Was she disappointed in herself for losing her cool with her? Of course. Was she going to apologize immediately? Good question. "Please, Daiya. Don't fight with me on this." She asked much more softly.

Then another moment of tension for the poor A.I.

Through cameras in the guards' locker room she watched Cartri, Doc and the guards have a very awkward moment. If she could hold her breath, she would. Thank the Force the guards were typical hardworking men, not paid enough to be concerned with anything when it was time to clock off. She could sympathize with that, it was the exact same feeling she was having now. "Alright, follow my hologram trail. I'll lead you guys to the slaves." She ordered through their comms.

And back to the slaves.

"Hey guys, heads up. I'm leading you to a meeting point with Darkwire. They'll help you get to the exit safely. If you see a boy and a man covered in sewage, don't shoot them." She instructed the slaves. Of course another few new arrivals decided to join in with the trip. "Cassus, be on your guard. The slaves are loose and two Runners are with them. There's still a lot of guards."

She was going to delete herself at this rate...

Doc Painless Cartri Keswoll Daiya Roan Helfast Cassus Akovin Anakin Stormrunner

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

"Don't worry about it..." he grunted, his focus more on the stench that surrounded them rather than his sincere apologies. Although, after complaining about the stench the Doc passed him a filter mask to block away from the disgusting smell. Cartri did everything he said and carefully placed it around his face, making sure not to mess with too much "Thanks doc" he mumbled behind the mask, giving him a nod of gratitude as they continued their journey down the tunnel.

Towards the end, "Xan" decided to pipe up again. For whatever reason, she ordered them to follow a new plan and go to the cells to help the prisoners. Cartri could only shake his head to the proposition, why did this joker think he was going to follow him? whoever was behind this was clearly a fool to think he'd follow their orders. Choosing to stay silent for now, he'd let the doc know at the right time about his plans. For all he knew, meeting up with his former friend Daiya and securing the ships was his goal.

Coming up to the exit hatch Cartri kept clear as the doc used a might fist to blow the hatch open into the space beyond. Even after such an impressive feat, he couldn't help but laugh at his reaction to some sewage getting too close for comfort "Having trouble there Doc?" he said with a chuckle, obviously enjoying his misfortune a bit too much. The teen finally calmed down as he made his way up the broken hatch, his hand shooting upwards in preparation to pull him up. Yet, when it came to it he seemed to be busy talking to someone and to say it sounded awkward was an understatement. Whoever it was, they seemed to wander off when Cartri was finally pulled from the hole. Cartri slowly ripped off his filter mask and looked around, confused as to what the Doc was having a conversation with "Who were you talking to?" he said, his hand soon waving in front of him "Hmph, it doesn't matter... let's get out of here"

Jogging to the entrance of the showers he looked both ways in the corridor and turned back to the talking Doc, who urged him to lead the way. Cartri slowly shook his head and put a hand on his shoulder "I'm sorry doc, but my mission is to be with Daiya and secure the ships. If you get lost, ask whoever is talking to give you directions" he said, before putting the filter mask against his chest "Good luck, I'll see you on the other side" the boy smirked confidently, before beginning to jog away without letting the doc stop him.

For now, he was going off instinct to see where the ships were. Surely there had to be some kind of sign somewhere. Hell, maybe even a map would be nice

Daiya Xan Deesa Doc Painless Anakin Stormrunner Roan Helfast​

 

[Daiya]

Living on her own for the past few months had reminded Daiya just how invaluable a partner was. Not just for the diversity of skills that another being could bring to the table, but the division of tasks as well. Sure, it meant dividing the spoils as well, but for a reliable partner the split was worth it.

Since leaving her Wookiee partner, Daiya had tried to find others to fill the void on jobs like these. She hadn't wanted to bring any of the Z-Runners in this time, they were too inexperienced and too used to predictable adversaries. Mine and factory bosses, shipping schedules, those didn't prepare someone for Denon. Or worse, CorpSec.

Daiya had figured her contact was savvy enough that she could do this on her own. Especially after learning of the other shadowrunners who had been recruited to hit the same location. One way or another, Daiya had figured her contact would make sure the job got done.

Daiya had figured wrong.

The heavy speeder truck was only millimeters from her back, hovering ominously above the young shadowrunner lying underneath it. She would have rather felt it crash down upon her than feel the crushing weight in her chest. A new voice in her ear was an old, familiar friend. One that couldn't be speaking to her, Xan was gone and this trick was too dirty.

Daiya had figured really wrong.

"You don't get to use her voice, you...you—" Daiya hissed at her contact. The teen could put up with plenty, she had to. Thick skin was just a part of surviving life on the city-world. She had lost friends and family before, and the worst part of it was never being able to talk to them again. Hearing SkullBones use Xan's voice like that... "You motherfether!"

She swore a little too loud. Her first warning was the heavy boots stomping toward her hiding place as one of the patrolling Seccers got curious about the new noises coming from the speeder truck. "Chit," the teen muttered between her teeth, and then bit her lip to try to force herself quiet. Her hand pulled out the blaster as she waited, her breath stuck behind her teeth too, knowing that there was no partner coming to help her.

The teen set her jaw, gritting back the fear that swelled up inside her. Boots appeared in her vision, shuffling around the front end of the speeder truck now. This CorpSec goon seemed too thorough, too wise to suspicions, and Daiya knew she wasn't going to stay hidden for very long. The boots began to pace around to the side of the vehicle. Pretty soon the Seccer was going to look underneath, she had to move fast and quiet.

Around the rest of the loading dock, work proceeded apace. A single CorpSec officer inspecting a speeder truck was hardly cause for backup or alarm. If anything, some of the guards stationed at the perimeter might be feeling a bit jealous. The speeder trucks were the one lifeline beyond the massive detention and processing facility, and sometimes the drivers had time to stop to pick up food not on the daily menu. Anyone lucky enough to be on patrol near the deliveries might inspect their way to a snack or treat that some hadn't seen in all the months since CorpSec had posted them here.

When the rounds changed next week, a patrolbeing might be on guard instead, giving a guard the chance at a tasty find instead.

The CorpSec officer finished looking around the entire speeder truck, not spotting anything that could have made the noise. On a whim, the furry Blimm opened the pilot's compartment and poked his head inside. He pulled back out with a look of disappointment, and then moved on around back. He flung open the doors of the speeder truck's cargo compartment, looking past crates and through shadows but finding nothing. And then, finally, he knelt down to peer underneath the speeder truck.

Nothing.

Standing back up, the Blimm was about ready to dismiss the noise as unimportant when his ears twitched. His CorpSec training had prepared him, and the Blimm whirled around with his blaster rifle at the ready to face his quarry. He just wasn't expecting it to come as a pair of legs wrapping around his neck and shoulders from above.

Daiya dropped down on top of the Seccer, her sharp relief at nailing the landing —right around the Blimm's neck— was cut short by the Seccer's immediate flailing to rid the teen of her newfound perch. She crossed her legs, locking them at the ankles, and grabbed for his eyes and snouted mouth. She clamped down hard with her limbs, hoping to rid the Seccer of his senses, and after a minute, consciousness as well.

For his part, the Blimm fought just as hard, tetradactyl claws scratching along the padding of her dark armor, and a jerking dance that sent Daiya swaying back toward the open cargo compartment. She curled down toward his head, to keep from hitting hers on the top of the speeder truck, but that just put her tender, unarmored skin within reach of the Seccer's claws. A squeak jumped from her throat as the Blimm drew blood, scratching at the side of her neck just past her throat.

It was the last thing he did before the Seccer, with Daiya still riding precariously on top, crumpled to the ground.

"Ack," Daiya wheezed, her words blessedly quiet. She spent a minute on the ground, just recovering and trying to make her heart stop pounding. Unwinding her legs from the Blimm's neck, the teen was grateful to find she hadn't twisted or injured them. The only casualty was the scratch on her neck, and after a little testing with an ungloved hand, Daiya decided it was bleeding slow enough to ignore.

She picked herself, grabbing hold of the Blimm so she could hoist him in among the speeder truck's cargo. Daiya grunted at the effort of even picking up the Seccer's limp body. There was no way she was going to be able to hide it in the vehicle by herself, so the young shadowrunner would just have to hope for the best as she started making her way across the loading bay.

It was much easier this time without the patrol, and the slave workers were either unaware or unwilling to raise the alarm as Daiya mingled among them, heading for the starship while she still had the element of surprise. It wouldn't be long before the guards discovered their missing comrade and raised the alarm, and the young shadowrunner was wondering how well her new hiding place would survive.

Daiya got her answer a few minutes later as orders began to bark out across the bay and an alarm at the gate prompted another layer of security to slide closed. The workers continued unabated as chaos ruled the loading bay, Seccers yelling and threatening different groups to stop as they started systematically accounting for everyone's whereabouts. The teen crouched down, grateful for a moment at the workers' disallusionment as she slinked towards the starship's engines from behind their lines.

She wasn't guaranteed to get caught anymore, but now CorpSec knew there was someone here to catch.

Well, Daiya had been looking for a distraction after all.

Xan Deesa Doc Painless Cartri Keswoll Anakin Stormrunner Cassus Akovin Roan Helfast​

 

[Doc Painless]

An old soldier's maxim held that no plan survived contact with the enemy.

The Doc, for his part, was pretty sure no plan survived contact with his friends.

"Uh, Cartri..." he started to say, taking a step back to steady himself as the breath mask he'd loaned the teen was returned by way of smacking into his chest. But it was too late; his lone physical companion was gone. "Well, feth me, then," the street medic sighed. All on his own again, he was going to have to somehow rally as many of the recently-liberated prisoners as he could and get them to the extraction point. He would just have to hope that the distraction Cassus and company were providing would get most of the guards out of his way. If they didn't, then his whole overambitious plan was going to end in a blaze of glory. Or an unceremonious blaster bolt to the head.

"Ok, Xan, lead the way." The Doc followed the AI-woman's holotrail, determined to make sure that someone was there to meet the no doubt panicked crowd of half-liberated prisoners. The lower levels were relatively quiet, their kitchens and locker rooms and storage closets empty of captive "indentures". He encountered no other guards, all of whom seemed to have been scrambled to respond to either the attacks on the perimeter or the unexpectedly-opened cells. Yet with every step he took toward the shopping levels, the street medic could hear the chaos above growing louder and closer. Blasterfire mingled with shouted commands, screams of pain, howls of fury...

It sounded like a warzone up there... and the Doc was sure that impression wasn't far from the truth.

Bounding up the last stairwell with speed and stamina born more of his augmentations than actual regular exercise, the renegade surgeon pushed his way through the doors... and into madness. Eden Megamall had been transformed from chic shopping center to corpo-fascist prison, and now it was all but unrecognizable as either. CorpSec goons, outnumbered and increasingly overwhelmed as escaping prisoners blasted the locks off more of the improvised cells, quickly switched their own rules of engagement. At first they had lashed out with stun blasts, a courtesy their victims had not extended them, in order to avoid damaging the merchandise of their DireX masters.

Now they'd switched to lethal force, and the mall's corridors were filling up with the dead and dying.

The sight filled the Doc with a deep sadness... and the crushing burden of guilt. If he and his chooms hadn't burst in here with their lofty ideals and harebrained schemes, nobody here would have been maimed or corpsed. But the harsh reality of the situation pushed back against that guilt. Nobody here would have been maimed or corpsed on Denon... but they would have been steadily worked to death in the strip mines of Belazura or the junk factories of Altier, living brief, hopeless lives before smog or exhaustion or industrial accidents ended them just as surely as a blaster bolt. Darkwire was giving them a shot at freedom, or at least to go out while fighting to claim it.

He wished he could have promised it to them, but the galaxy didn't work like that. It never had, and never would.

Drawing his blaster, the Doc followed Xan's holoimage through the unfolding carnage. She was multitasking, pointing out guards and safe routes even as she guided the street medic... and probably pulled off a dozen other things to boot. Honestly, the Doc felt a bit superfluous; his guidance wasn't all that needed when she could command the screens all around the mall, giving directions en masse. Maybe Cartri had had the right idea after all. But there was no point worrying about it now. These people weren't fighters, by and large, and Xan couldn't shoot their guards for them. The Doc could at least help to clear them a path, even if that role was far from his first choice.

Shaking off his many thoughts about the situation, the reluctant warrior charged, gun in hand. Shai Maji had taught him well, and he was going to put her training to good use. One of the hound-like guardian droids bounded toward him, leaping over a toppled caf cart, and he put a pair of shots down its durasteel throat in midair; his mechanical arms, steadier than flesh could ever hope to be, ensured that his aim was unerring. "Come on!" he bellowed, rallying the confused, terrified indentures milling around him, only a quarter or so of them even armed. "We've got to get upward, toward the roof! Those landing pads are our way out of here!"

At least, he thought so at the time. He had no way to know he might be shepherding them toward disaster...

Zole | Xan Deesa | Cartri Keswoll
Cassus Akovin | Daiya​

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

These winding halls never seemed to end! nor did they offer any help by the slightest.

Cartri knew he was lucky not to run into any patrols along the way, or anyone else hurrying along to their station. It was possible other predicaments had caught their attention. Judging by the radio silence of his teammates that only seemed to prove the case. At first, he was cautious of what could be around the next corner but after minutes of not encountering anyone, he was able to relax and walk around as if he owned the place. The only problem was he had yet to see any signs for the hanger bay area

"I've never known a place so hard to get to..." The teen groaned while stomping along. Although, a sound echoing off the walls would stop him in his tracks.

The teen came to a halt and listened closely to what was heading his way, but it was soon clear where the source of the racket was coming from. Taking refuge in a room close by, he knelt down by the entrance and waited as the small cargo speeder came into view. Two workers were busy chatting as they steadily hovered down the corridor, now and then laughing at each other from the jokes they said about their everyday lives. Cartri kept hidden until it had gone past him, before choosing at the last to run and hide within the cargo it was holding. This speeder could be going anywhere for all he knew, but it was better than aimlessly walking around for hours with no luck. Squeezing uncomfortably between two boxes, the boy huffed and grunted a few words of displeasure. Why was he always in uncomfortable situations like this?

Thankfully, after listening to the annoying chatter of the workers and getting a dead arm it didn't take him long until the speeder came to a halt. From his view, it appeared he was in some kind of busy hanger bay that was frantic with activity. All around him he could hear people running and shouting to get things prepared, almost as if something was coming their way. Perfect, the plan seemed to be going nicely. But now there was a different matter, finding Daiya

When the workers shut down their speeder Cartri carefully lifted himself from the cargo and slipped to the back of the craft, gracefully dropping his feet to the hard floor and kneeling down to hide his presence. The personal around him seemed too preoccupied to question why a kid was suspiciously hiding behind one of their speeders, but that didn't stop one curious worker to question his business "Hey, you! let me see some ID" the man with a datapad said from behind as he started to walk over to him with purpose "Uhhh... I was just about to unload the cargo and I heard a weird noise come from this hunk of crap" he said with confidence back to him, but the man was no fool "That's not what I said kid, show me some ID before I-" was the only thing he could say before Cartri suddenly made a break for it across the bay, leaving him to whistle at an oncoming patrol and point at the running Cartri "Oi! Get him! Intruder!" he barked over to them with a growl. The patrol of four snapped their heads to the teen and began to give chase, trying their best to catch up with the quick nimble Cartri.

Kicking his legs he heard the shouts of the men close by, their booming voices threatening to blast him down if he didn't think about stopping "Ha! you can think again!" he said with a chuckle before suddenly sliding out of view at the end of a clearing. On either side of him were piles upon piles of boxes, all neatly lined up and ready for transportation when needed. His chasers had to go through the section in order to get to him, and it didn't take long for thoughts to spring into his mind. Coming with speed around the corner three of the four security personnel ran through the valley of boxes without hesitation, a grave mistake that would lead to their downfall. Suddenly, a key box that held everything together shot out from underneath the rest, creating a landslide of boxes to come crashing down on the unlucky three. It only took a few seconds for their yells to cease, especially when they were buried under countless amounts of cargo filled with heavy equipment.

Raising from his hiding spot Cartri slowly walked to the mess he created, a proud chuckle escaping his lips as he inspected the damage "Sorry fellas, you did tell me to stop after all" he said with a shrug. Twirling around with glee he faced something that made him regret being so overconfident, a muscular forearm colliding hard into his chest. Cartri fell back hard into the concrete floor and coughed heavily, not just from the impact that hit his chest but from his back making contact with the floor too. Looking up in dismay he quickly noticed the figure of the officer who was not happy at all from what the kid had done to his men. Wheezing he tried to crawl backwards away from him, but it was no use when he grabbed a handful of his shirt and forced to a standing position "You really think you were going to get away with this?!" the officer growled, suddenly pressing Cartri against a wall to keep him pinned "What am I going to do with you huh? maybe I should give you the same treatment as my men before I offer you to the slavers. After all, scumbag brats like you deserve to be in their care..." at the same time Cartri did his best to thrash and squirm, yet the mixture of pain and the weight difference put him at a big disadvantage "N-not really... they wouldn't be able to c-cope with my attitude for long" answered back the teen with a smug yet hurt grin. In turn, the man gave him another hard push into the wall. Groaning, he looked down to the man's formed fist and realised he was going in for a strike, something of which he had no hope in stopping "Yea... same here kid. Maybe it's time that I fix that for you." with his arms stuck to the wall and the officer's body armor keeping him safe from blunt impacts there was no way to fight back at this close proximity. Now he had really got himself in a fight he couldn't win...

Daiya Zole Xan Deesa Cassus Akovin Doc Painless​

 

[Daiya]

Pandemonium reigned over the once-orderly loading bay.

Her ears kept alert for the sounds of incoming Corpos, eyes darting when a shout rose up or feet stamped quickly by her. The teen kept her head down, though, moving slowly through the worker throng. They had pressed themselves up against the starship's shadow, maintaining something only partly resembling the line from moments before. With quiet chatter passed between them and their eyes fixed upon the guards, Daiya gladly took advantage of their inattentiveness, too.

"One box of Corpos, two box of Corpos, three box of Corpos..." Daiya whispered to herself as she counted out the paces, estimating her meters until she reached fourteen. She looked up, tapping her facemask again to trigger the right mode. A couple steps to her right, the criss-cross of circuitry and mechanics inside the ship gave way to a pulsing mass inside the engine pod. It had to do with an intermix junction chamber or something, the young shadowrunner hadn't been paying attention to the babble of terms. Just how to cut in without ruining her day, and rig it to ruin someone else's.

She pulled the omnicutter from her belt, tapping the side of her mask to shield her eyes from its glow before starting to cut.

Behind her, the noises began to focus in one direction. Part of her felt guilty over it, knowing some poor being was about to become the scapegoat. The other part of her smirked, there was always a scapegoat. "Besides," she muttered to herself, confident that the distraction and her cutter would obscure her words, "I'm not here to fething rescue anyone."

Daiya could feel guilt and regret later, when she was back on Belazura with the Z-Runners. She could tell Zenie that the place had emptied out first, that she had sent in a bomb threat or something first; there was no need to make the little heiress feel bad about what happened here. Chit just happened, that was life lesson number one for living on Denon.

Still, a small part of her wished she had sent a bomb threat first.

The teen set her jaw, groaning to herself as she cut. The hull was thick and her cutter was small, making it slow going. She glanced back to the chaos from time to time, as if she could spot the action through the dim filter on her mask. Whatever this distraction was in the moment, she could only hope it lasted until she was done. A few more minutes and she'd have...

"Sorry fellas, you did tell me to stop after all."

Daiya froze. That voice! It coughed now, prompting the young shadowrunner to turn away from her work. Despite herself, she tapped off the facemask, looking through naked eyes at a Seccer roughly handling someone by their shirt. Pinned against the wall, the being's bright orange hair and his smug grin confirmed his identity to her. "Cartri?!"

So SkullBones hadn't been lying.

"Son of a monkey-lizard!" Daiya shut off the omnicutter, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips a second behind the curse. This was the last thing she needed. SkullBones must be fething with her, sending Cartri on a half-assed plan of distraction. The teen winced sympathetically as she saw the armored CorpSec grunt knock Cartri against the wall again, an eager lust for more etched into the Seccer's face as he drew back a fist.

Daiya still remembered her moment, weeks ago, when she was at the mercy of a wound-up fist aimed in her direction. The rage etched on Cartri's face then had terrified her, and now she watched as through a mirror, her memory playing out upon the ginger boy's face this time. Her heart twisted, and it robbed the teen of any satisfaction in watching Knuckles get some justice knocked into him.

The Seccer's fist dropped, lifeless, as a hole appeared in the side of his head.

Daiya pivoted in her haphazard stance, her blaster already moving to target the next Seccer who was about to react to her shot. She was only going to get one more second of surprise, the teen gritted her teeth before squeezing off another shot.

The young shadowrunner ducked and took off, heading away from the open space underneath the starship towards a stack of cargo boxes. Sparing a glance towards Cartri, she screamed at him, "Fething move, Knuckles! Grab his weapon and move!"

Her chest was already tight, a knot in her throat nearly suffocating her. Daiya had done her damndest just to avoid a fight, and now she had just started one. Her eyes darted back, her mind memorizing positions, stacking priorities of enemies, urging her feet not to trip over themselves. She reached cover as a blaster bolt caught the back of her leg, and it buckled to the ground even as the armor absorbed the bulk of the damage.

She swung her legs around, wincing while climbing up on her knees to peek over the cargo boxes, her blaster out and already searching for its next target.

A Seccer aiming for Cartri. Squeeze.

One trying to aim through the worker crowd at her. Squeeze.

Another hoping to flank her from behind. Squeeze.

There were too many.

"Oh feth..."

Xan Deesa Doc Painless Cartri Keswoll Cassus Akovin​

 

[Doc Painless]

Eden Megamall was a structure designed with capacity - and the flow of traffic - firmly in mind. Although it was home to a staggering twenty thousand people in its upper-level apartments, a single complex holding more sentient lives than most Outer Rim frontier ports, that was only a fraction of the number of people who moved through the structure daily. Beneath the apartments, the mall boasted five thousand shops. Give each of those three to five clerks and you've already reached (or exceeded) the number of apartment residents... and that's before customers. The number of people actually walking in and out of the building's many, many doors each day?

Several hundred thousand, on average. And you don't want to think about the Life Day shopping rush.

How do you build a structure that can accommodate that kind of traffic? To put it mildly, you have lots of everything those people need to flow smoothly through it. Lots of entrances and exits. Lots of width in the corridors. Lots of parking. Lots of bathrooms. Most businesses had several different storefronts in wildly different parts of the mall, in case the line at one got too long, or it was too far from a customer's preferred entrance. Spread those out over lots of levels, taking good advantage of the ample vertical space that Denon's towering cloudcutters allow for; it helps save costs, too, since property is bought by square footage, without accounting for height.

And that, of course, requires lots and lots of turbolifts. But for this escape, maybe still not enough.

As Doc Painless looked out over the seething crowds of "indentured" prisoners, all trying desperately to follow Xan's directions and swarm their way upward to the landing pads above, he could already see chokepoints developing. Turbolift networks built to accommodate tens of thousands of shoppers in a given hour were overwhelmed when that number of people - perhaps more, given how many had been crammed into the makeshift prisons of five thousand storefronts - tried to board them all at once. The sight of clumps of people clogging the entryways of the elevators, bunching up in easy masses of targets for CorpSec goons, brought back vile memories.

He'd seen sights like this in the war, and he knew what the aftermath would look like.

Feth, he needed a drink. His hands were shaking.

"Take the fething stairs!" the Doc roared, trying his best to direct at least some of the crowds toward the emergency stairwells. There were fewer of them than there ought to have been - funny how, when the corporations ran the government, things like basic safety precautions went by the wayside because they cost more and generated no profits - but they might help alleviate at least some of the congestion. In the meantime, the street medic slid into cover behind an ornamental planter. The plant within was just a holographic projection, of course (real plants had upkeep costs), but the solid base of it provided him with at least a bit of a shield against incoming fire.

Leaning over the top of the planter, the Doc laid down what covering fire he could, his cybernetic eyes quickly tagging the spots where CorpSec troopers were shooting from. He would have liked to just force them back into cover, shooting near them, but he couldn't risk having them reemerge at the wrong moment and blast some innocent "indenture" in the back. He had to take them out of the fight, and he was too far away for stun blasts. Was that an excuse? Was he using deadly violence as a crutch instead of going through the effort of finding a better way? Perhaps. But the galaxy, he'd found, wasn't as clean as he'd always hoped. Sometimes there just wasn't a better way.

So he killed. He killed several people, then and there, blaster bolts through chests and foreheads.

And he hated himself. But that was nothing new.

As the crowds of escaping prisoners began to dwindle, either making it up toward the landing pad levels or lying still on the carbon-scored ground, the Doc took his chance. With a quick over-the-shoulder roll he left his improvised cover, several blaster bolts flying past him close enough to set his hair lightly smoking and standing on end. One even clipped his right arm, throwing off his balance and melting the sleeve of his jacket. He didn't feel it beyond a dull impact, though; his pain receptors were turned off, and the heavy metal of his augmented limbs could more than take a glancing hit. Pushing his cybernetic legs and lungs hard, he sprinted for the nearest stairwell.

He had to get up to Cartri and Daiya. They had to finish all this. Now.

Cartri Keswoll | Daiya | Zole
Xan Deesa | Cassus Akovin​

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

Daiya Xan Deesa Doc Painless Zole​

Smirking defiantly back to the seccer he was expecting a fist to sink into his stomach at at moment, but instead, he got a front seat of his head getting blasted. Cartri slid down the wall and coughed, his gaze resting on the heap of a man beside him "What in the..." snapping his gaze to a small figure he was surprised to know Daiya had been the one to rescue him "Daiya?! I've never been so- kark!" ended the boy as a bolt hit the wall to the side of him.

Scrambling to the body he ripped the blaster from his holster and stumbled after Daiya, unsteady on his feet until he managed to slide and rest his back against a box next to her. At the same time, Daiya had been suppressing the thugs, keeping them at bay as Cartri got to safety. One had the bright idea to flank them, but Daiya was fast to react and ended his life with a single shot to the chest "Nice shot!" he yelled with a nod, before raising from cover and firing a few shots of his own at a pair of sectors in front of them.

He ducked down in time to see Daiya get a shot to the leg, forcing her leg to buckle agonizingly "Daiya! you alright?" he asked in a concerned tone, while his focus concentrated on a lone seccer coming from the left. Lining up his blaster he shot off a single shot and hit him in the leg, sending him unceremoniously to the floor.

"You know, I wasn't expecting for this to be the way we make up" he shouted over the fire, a few blaster shots narrowly missing his shoulder as he spoke "If we don't get out of this alive, I just want to say I- Arghhhh!" a lucky shot from the left caught Cartri off guard, heavily grazing the right side of his arm. The force was enough to knock him to his back, and the stinging pain was beyond belief. As shots rained down him he managed to pull himself into the safety of the back end of the box, his left hand covering the flesh wound with disdain "D-Daiya!" we need to get out of here, now!" the boy shouted through heavy breaths, struggling to control the amount of pain coming from his arm.

 

[Daiya]

Out from the throngs of workers and down adjoining hallways, the facility seemed to belch CorpSec. More of them joined in the fray, almost a dozen in total now. Their shots rang out in percussive mayhem, raining the crates with a colorful show of blaster bolts that the young shadowrunner hoped they could keep absorbing. Her armor may have taken the brunt of the shot on her leg, but it couldn't hold off an entire Seccer mob if her cover failed.

Her breaths came steady and mechanical, forced upon herself by the young shadowrunner. There were too many for her to zone out, to find that unfocused focus that sometimes aided her in combat. Daiya struggled to concentrate instead, distracted by the Seccer shots aimed her way, watching Cartri scramble to his senses, and trying to keep the workers from getting in the line of fire. She could feel herself lagging, adrenaline could only do so much for her.

Daiya was buoyed by the arrival of Cartri, joining her on a nearby box to double their effectiveness. She grinned at his remark, "I am a nice shot, yeah."

Any other day, she would have held that over his head.

"You get the near ones, I'll try to take them out from afar!" There wasn't much time to coordinate, but Cartri already seemed to be doing his part. Daiya still couldn't figure out why he'd appeared, or why SkullBones had sent him of all people. Any other day, she would have been trying to shoot the ginger rather than anyone shooting at him. He deserved worse than the Seccer's wound-up fist, but the teen had knocked him off before it could connect.

Daiya still didn't know why. She didn't have time to care, maybe when they weren't fighting for their lives the teen could figure herself out. For now, Daiya just focused on lining up her shots and keeping an even breath.

Breathe out. Squeeze.

Breathe out. Squeeze.

She managed a couple more hits before Cartri decided to start talking, saying all the wrong things, making her third go wide. Daiya grimaced, growl rumbling in her throat until the words touched her ears. It emerged as a cough, incredulous at the boy's timing. He was really declaring them all made up now?

Oh no, Cartri had way more penance to pay her. And Daiya was about to open her mouth to explain it to the pontificating ginger, when he chose just that moment to be shot unceremoniously. Gone was her smokescreen effort from Cartri, and now the Seccers all turned their blasters on her.

"You know, I was at least expecting to get a few shots in myself to make up properly." Daiya fired off a spray of bolts at the remaining Seccers, diffusing their fire for a moment so she could scoot over to look at Cartri. She moved his hand, roughly yanking away with little time to spare on bravado or battlefield confusion. The teen wasn't a field medic, she didn't have extensive knowledge on wounds or healing, but she'd seen enough hits to give it a cursory diagnosis.

She poked the tender area with a finger, grinning at any reaction that came from the ginger boy. "Poor Knuckles, did that hurt?" Daiya patted the uninjured part of his arm for good measure. "You're fine, it barely touched you."

Cartri was only wrong on one account.

Daiya crawled back over to her line of sight, and yelped at the sight. In her absence, the CorpSec officers had taken closer positions, ones they used eagerly to their advantage now. More defensible, less vulnerable, it was all the young shadowrunner could do now to fire off a few shots in their direction and then duck back down to wait for the incoming fire. She couldn't last long like this, not alone, they needed to get out of here now!

Her eyes darted around the loading bay, looking for options. The gate she had entered through had been closed already, locked down when she set off suspicions. The mall itself is where most of the Seccers had come from, so moving deeper into Eden would only delay trouble. That left...

Oh no.

The teen groaned audibly now. She hated it when someone else's prophecy came true. All the effort she had put into planning and evading detection to approach the starship, the mere seconds she had been from setting it to blow, all gone to waste now. "I hope you can fly a starship, Cartri."

Daiya pointed him to the ship, just as the depths of Eden began to disgorge more beings into the loading bay. Not CorpSec this time, workers. Slaves. Many of them seemed too old, too young, or too disabled to be actually working, not that their Corpo masters would see any difference. For all that they claimed to be against slavery, the indenturing contracts that no doubt held these beings at Eden in the first place were functionally no different, either. "Go, get them onboard! I'll deal with the Seccers."

To her sudden relief, and just as sudden dread, Daiya found the Seccers losing interest in her for the throngs of escaping indentures. One of them brazenly stood, turning her weapon back toward the crowd. Indentures began to fall under her aim, each one drawing screams, with a growing roar as the crowd increased in tempo and speed. No one wanted to be next.

"No!" Her heart twisted again, and Daiya squeezed the trigger at the Seccer's back. She dropped before more of the unarmed beings could be hurt. Horror crept over the young shadowrunner's face as the other CorpSec minders came to the same conclusion.

Like the rest of Denon under Corpo rule, the indentures were just inventory. Better destroyed than lost to the competition, something the Seccers seemed eager to do.

And Daiya couldn't stop them all!

Cartri Keswoll Doc Painless​

 

[Doc Painless]

The reason that Eden Megamall worked so well as a CorpSec "indentured persons" holding facility was that it had been designed as a prison. In the troubled times of the 400-year Darkness and the galaxy's turbulent reemergence from it, Denon's isolated government - not yet replaced by the Corporate Authority - had resorted to mass incarceration to keep order. Facilities like this one had housed tens of thousands of prisoners, from vandals to murderers to smugglers to protesters and activists. On a planet covered entirely in city, horizontal space is highly limited... so the prison's architects, like most, had chosen to build upward. It saved on money and legal arguments over land rights.

The cloudcutter-prison crammed in a hundred thousand prisoners across 200 stories.

When local hero-politician Nicolai Hovar broke the power of most of the local criminal syndicates in 840 ABY (rumors abound that he was actually part of the deadly Red Wave syndicate, using their activities to crush rivals and ensure his own election), the economy of District 9 soared and prison occupancy plummeted. Under Hovar's beloved leadership, the prison became Eden Megamall. On the lower levels, the walls between groups of five cells at a time had been knocked out to make relatively large and inviting storefronts. Above that, in the areas designated for apartments, the number of combined cells varied. The higher you went, the more space (and rent) you got.

The result: a truly sprawling indoor commercial zone. Where there had once been twenty-five thousand two-person cells, there were now five thousand businesses spread across fifty levels, with some 100 commercial lots for rent per floor. Now, what relevance does all this history and corporate planning have in the middle of a jailbreak firefight, you might ask? Because the landing pads that Darkwire had targeted were on the roof of the mall area... which meant that they were up forty-nine flights of stairs from Doc Painless's entry point. At roughly 21 steps per flight of stairs, that works out to a number that the street medic was very much not looking forward to experiencing.

(A little over a thousand stairs, if anyone was actually wondering.)

The Doc had augmented lungs and legs both, so it was more boring then exhausting for him... but for the horde of malnourished political prisoners now trying to scramble up them? Torturous at best, and outright impossible for some. People leaned on each other, gasping for breath, clawing their way up the railing as their feeble limbs collapsed. But what choice did they have? They stood precious little chance of making it through the ground-level exits, still heavily guarded by CorpSec troops and soon to receive reinforcements. The turbolifts were easily locked down, trapping anyone who had tried to take them to freedom. For most, the stairs were the only chance.

Those imprisoned on the upper levels of the mall had a good shot at getting out. But the rest...

On the thirty-ninth floor, a pale, starving child slung over each shoulder while a third clung to his neck like a fathier jockey, Doc Painless wondered again if they had done the right thing. So many of these people weren't going to make it. Those who fell, or who weren't fast enough to reach the ships before they were full (or forced to take off), would be recaptured by CorpSec. They would be beaten and dragged back to their makeshift cells, soon to meet the same fate in the strip mines and industrial plants that Darkwire had tried to save them from. Or perhaps the CorpSec officers, many of them cruel bullies at the best of times, would just shoot them where they'd collapsed.

Perhaps that was the best-case scenario. A quick death over a drawn-out one.

But there was no use dwelling on any of that in the midst of the mission. The regret, the grief and rage at a cold world in a cold galaxy, the self-hatred for putting people in danger and failing to save them all, that would come later. It would bubble up out of his cracked soul and consume him a while. He would sprawl under the cold water of the fresher, still clothed, a bottle of liquor in hand while empty ones clattered around his feet, and allow himself to be broken for a while. Until the next time someone needed him, as they needed him now. He couldn't save everyone, not even close... but he could save these three he carried, and then he could go back for more.

Triage 101: in a crisis, focus on what you can do, not what you can't. Then go do it.

Sprinting up ten flights of stairs without pause, his synthmuscles immune to exhaustion even if his mind was not, Doc Painless reached the landing pad access door and gave it a savage kick. The durasteel portal flew off its hinges, scraping across the duracrete platform and throwing up sparks in its wake. Other stairwells were already open, a steady stream of prisoners dashing out of them, trying to reach the ships. Everything was a jumble of moving bodies and flying blaster bolts, but the Doc thought he might have caught sight of Daiya and Cartri Keswoll as they ducked in and out of cover, putting up the best fight they could amid the madness.

The only way out was through. "Cover me!" the Doc bellowed, and charged through the hail of death.

The loading ramp of the nearest ship seemed so very far away.

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

Doc Painless Daiya​

"Yaaaaw!" he complained bitterly when Daiya poked his wound, an expression of annoyance staring her straight in the eyes "Come on Daiya, I don't think there's any time for teasing when a dozen corpos are shooting at us!" he said with a pained grin, soon seeing the funny side of the whole ordeal. Although, that moment of humor would soon wipe away after more blaster fire erupted onto them.

"We won't last long if we stay here any longer Daiya!" he grunted through gritted teeth, trying his best to grab hold of the blaster and peek around the corner to shoot any Seccer in his sight. As time went on the seccers only got closer to their location, to the point where even Cartri could get a few good shots on the with one arm. Looking at the right time he managed to get a lucky shot on a Seccer rushing their position, hitting him in the middle of his chest to drop him to the cold floor.

Leaning back into the cover with a grunt, he looked to Daiya who seemed to have a plan formulating. When she finally said it, he thought she was mad "Flying a starship?! what's got into your head laser brain?" the boy said back, blindly firing his blaster overhead to keep the rest at bay. Cartri had no idea where to start when it came to flying. He'd rarely seen the cockpit of one let alone start one up. The boy looked to the ship in question and quickly shook his head, the plan was one of desperation but right now it was the only thing they had.

"Fine. I'll go for it alright? but don't blame me when we go splatter into the walls!" he said as he prepared to run, his arm still hurting dramatically while he waited for the right moment "Okay, 1... 2..." but before he could take off another voice shouted over to them.

In the distance, the shouts of the doc were urging them to get him covered. Cartri shot a grin and fell back into cover, firing a burst of shots at the seccers who were slowly starting to notice the only figure running towards the ship

"Daiya, as soon as he gets there we need to go. Gather as many people as possible and get them into the ship, the other runners will get the rest out"

Cartri kept an eye on the doc until he managed to reach the ship unharmed, allowing him to begin getting the ship ready

"It's going to sound crazy but we're going to make a break for the ship, you ready?!"

 

[Daiya]

Doc Painless Cartri Keswoll​

Their screams and cries echoed between her ears. Rage boiled under her facemask, fogging it faster than the anti-perspirant measures could compensate for. Her vision blurred through discommoding tears, anguish driving her blaster toward the next Seccer and then the next. Only one or two still bothered to take potshots at her, the rest were gleefully massacring now. Daiya could only take them out one at a time, carefully lining up her shots to avoid anyone else getting hit.

CorpSec simply murdered with impunity.

Daiya teetered on the edge, nerves fraying with every ragged breath she drew. Around her, the building still stood oblivious to the commotion inside its walls. A starship still waited, curious and unfeeling toward the chaos at its feet. The crates still sat, patient and stalwart against the blasters firing at or past them. Any moment, the teen felt she could scream at everything around her, to kick the crates from their perfect stacks, to gouge the unblemished walls, to blow the starship sky high! Anything to wake it up to what was happening, as if that could make it all make sense again.

Instead, she could only keep taking careful aim at the CorpSec thugs who had turned from enforcers to executioners in a split second. More indentures continued to erupt into the loading bay, from the very walls if she could trust her senses anymore. Those who fell were quickly replaced by five others. Then ten. Then dozens. There was no way all of them were going to fit on one starship. Except that wasn't Daiya's problem, she had sent Cartri to usher the indentures onboard.

So what was he doing back with her?

Someone yelled out, weaving through the unwashed masses that seethed toward them. A familiar face, perhaps, as the hazy recognition triggered some part of her to recognize the reliable cyborg medic. Doc Painless? Her mind slowed, scrambling to catch up with the revelation while Knuckles babbled alongside of her and Seccers moved deeper into cover to milk their killing field. "Chit!"

Daiya crept toward the other end of their cover, intentionally bumping into Cartri crouched there. The ginger boy was watching, tracking the Doc as he crossed the fray, and not helping at all. "Shut up," the young shadowrunner commanded, "or shoot!"

There was no choice in her ultimatum, only a means to survival.

If Doc could make it, if enough of the indentures could climb onboard, if Cartri and Daiya could get safely to the ship, if someone could fly it, if CorpSec didn't shoot them down, if there was a place to land. Daiya's thoughts considered none of this.

Just survival.

His hot words were in her ear now, still drivel slowly unwinding toward a point. Daiya wanted to hurt him now, too. The naiveté of Knuckles was going to get someone killed!

Daiya drove her shoulder into his, knocking the boy out of the way to catch the glimpse she needed. The Seccer swayed, just for a moment, and her shot had the opening it needed. The young shadowrunner squeezed the trigger of her heavy blaster, sending the bolt across the loading bay and through the hastily-constructed cover to meet its smoking end. The Seccer slumped against the crates, spilling them backward, and signalling a threshold for her.

"Okay, now we go." The teen stood, and hauled the boy up with her. She felt no consideration for his injury or feelings right now, not even consternation over his lack of combat sense. Now they needed to move and move fast. Whatever happened at this point, Daiya could count only on herself.

She crossed the loading bay, dashing out from cover with the ginger boy in tow, heading for the lowered ramp of the starship. With her blaster, she made quick motions to indentures standing within range of it, willing them toward the ramp and on board to safety. She aimed at another Seccer, still firing with impunity at the slaves once bound for Belazuran mines, trying without success to line up a shot to take him down.

They were at the ramp. Daiya was so close to spent, it was all she could do to shove Cartri up its incline. Her free hand gestured now at the hesitating indentures, herding them all with a single word, "GO!"

Daiya could only stand now by grasping the edge of the ramp. Her limit was here, so she turned. Behind her, indentures still teemed on the platform, in search of a rescue. None was coming. Only other CorpSec officers, called as backup from the rest of the facility to dispense judgement upon the remaining indentures. She couldn't help them.

No one could.

Daiya crawled up the ramp unmolested, their ship already written off by Corpo masters looming elsewhere. She had come simply to disrupt the facility, to slow it down enough to put a dent in the mining operations. The young shadowrunner had never wanted all of this.

To know, without seeing it happen, the fates of every pair of eyes that watched her scamper up the ramp to a safety they would never again have.

To feel the weight of each of their souls crushing on her back as she went.

Or to realize that she had no power to make it better.

The blonde teen collapsed at the top of the ramp, watching with haunted eyes as it closed behind her. Someone was piloting now, someone else was directing their rescued indentures to strap in. She could only stare, her vision so rudely interrupted by the raised ramp, at the killing field of Eden Megamall.

 

[Doc Painless]

As he ran through the press of bodies, people falling all around him, Doc Painless remembered war.

He had been on battlefields before; it was where he had learned his trade, doing the right thing - saving lives - for all the wrong people. It was the beginning of the weight he carried, the weight of guilt, the weight of trauma from all the things he had seen. It was where he had first been broken, where he had seen the inhumanity of sentient creatures to each other long before he'd ever picked up a blaster and participated, where his drinking had begun because the galaxy was too awful to endure sober. Yes, he knew battlefields, in all their "glorious" horror. And this? The roof of this prison-turned-mall-turned-prison? This was a battlefield. One that he had helped to make.

Instinct, honed by experience, would see him through. The shakes, the hyperventilation, the night terrors, those would come later.

There was no good way for the street medic to run while protecting his three young charges. With a kid on each shoulder and another on his back, any direction he tried to twist or bend would put one of them in the line of fire. So he just tried to keep low, going through the middle of the crowd while Seccers opened fire at them all from both sides. Was he using the rest of the fleeing indentures, the innocent people he'd come here to save, as living shields? He tried not to think of it that way. The only people he was in any position to help right now were the three he carried. When that was done, when they were inside the ship, then and only then could he think of others.

The Doc bumped into someone as he ran, a panicked woman who had tried to change course and reach out to grab someone's hand. A child's? A lover's? A friend's? He couldn't tell. He kept his balance, and she didn't. She was lost beneath the pounding feet of the terrified crowd, gone from his vision in less than a second. He couldn't stop to help her, not without signing the death warrants of those he was already helping... and she was likely beyond help anyway, trampled senseless or dead in the press of unwashed beings. But her face, in the split second he'd seen it before she vanished, would stay with him forever. The look in her eyes - shock, terror, grief...

It would join the other accusing stares in his dreams, already an endless parade.

The screaming, the blaster discharges, the sizzle of flesh and the thuds of bodies hitting the duracrete, they all blurred together in his utterly overwhelmed mind. Soon the only thing he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. The world seemed to move in slow motion, and nothing mattered but his next step, cutting down the distance to that open starship ramp. He saw faces contorted around him, but their cries were swallowed by the eerie near-silence that had consumed him, the monotone ringing that was all he could hear. How many of these people would they actually save? How much blame did they bear for the piles of corpses building up on this windswept roof?

Clank. The sound of his boots hitting the boarding ramp was enough to jerk him out of his fugue state, to remind him that he had duties beyond just running forward. With as much gentleness as his haste permitted, he slung the three children down at the edge of the cargo compartment, the one that had been destined to take them to Belazura just that morning. Why kids, he wondered, in a galaxy full of purpose-built droids? The answer, all too clear, twisted in his stomach like curdled milk. Cost efficiency. Corpos had to pay for new droids, for repairs to keep them running. But the poor? Well, they multiplied on their own, a renewable resource for CorpSec to harvest.

Plenty more where they came from. Just think of the savings. His guts heaved, and he tasted vomit.

No time for that. Not yet. The Doc staggered through the accumulating crowd in the freighter, pushing people aside with as much force as was necessary. He had no time left for courtesy; he could apologize later, when they weren't being shot at. A blaster bolt pinged off a support strut just above his head, showering him in sparks. A rodian mother, slumped against the compartment wall, curled tighter around her small child, squeezing her eyes shut. They had to get out of here, now. Shoving his way to the front, the Doc found his fears realized: there was no one in the pilot's seat. He shut his own eyes a moment. Chit. Couldn't at least one fething thing go according to plan?!

Triage, a gentle voice echoed up from his past, a voice he quoted often. Find your priorities. Accept what you can't change. Focus on what you can. The Doc listened. He slid into the pilot's chair, strapped himself in. It'd been a while since he'd flown a starship, but it'd come back to him. It had to. "Strap in!" he shouted over the internal comm, knowing that there weren't nearly enough seats. People would have to wrap themselves in the crash webbing, or just risk rolling around back there; it was still better than being left here. He flicked on the holocam that surveyed the cargo area, watching it fill up. Daiya and Cartri Keswoll made it aboard, just barely, pushing each other along.

And then Doc Painless made one of the most difficult decisions he had ever been forced to make.

He closed the boarding ramp, and he took off.

As the hijacked freighter streaked away, burning atmosphere as it headed for the open stars, he told himself not to look back. There was a legend he'd heard growing up, a legend about a man who had traveled to the land of the dead to save his wife, but he'd lost her again when he looked back. Like that man, the Doc couldn't help himself. He stared down at the roof of Eden Megamall as it receded, the colossal building slowly fading into the distance. Soon the people atop it were nothing more than tiny dots against the duracrete, little points of crimson light pouring into them as CorpSec mopped up the last survivors of the escape attempt. Yet he imagined he could still see them.

Staring up at the departing ship in desolation, watching their last hope die.

The Doc felt numb, empty, hollow. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. They'd done the right thing, damn it.

One thing finally did go according to plan - the freighter's authorization codes were still good. No doubt CorpSec had tried to cancel their departure clearance as soon as they'd realized the ship had been hijacked, but Darkwire's slicers were damn good, and they'd kept the Seccers' comms from leaving the building. The little group of escapees soared up through the smog-choked skies over District Nine, and no customs ships appeared to interdict them. The Doc's implants had downloaded a piloting refresher directly into the muscle memory of his synthetic arms, and he kept their course straight and true. With a little rumble, they broke atmo, and stars greeted them.

His hand was steady as he flicked on the cargo compartment holocam again - it was mechanical, eternally steady, and did not shake even as the rest of him did. Lined up in the bulk freighter's hold were a few hundred people, crammed wall to wall in the very vessel that had been meant to make them slaves. Now they were on their way to Wann Tsir, to utterly uncertain futures far from the only home they had ever known. They would have to begin again, from scratch, without friends or family, a chit hand dealt to them by a cold galaxy. Had Darkwire done anything but deliver them from one hardship to another? But when the audio feed cut in, the Doc felt his heart melt.

They were cheering, laughing, crying, hugging the strangers next to them. They had a chance now. They were free.

Too few of them. Too many left behind. But to them, to the liberated ones, it was everything. And maybe that was enough.

The blue tunnel of hyperspace swallowed them, and it was over.

FIN​