// LOCATION // Space
// OBJECTIVE // Excellent Question
// ALLIES //
Aloy Vizsla
// ENEMIES // Everywhere
//EQUIPMENT// In Bio, A'den Star Fighter.
River had grown up flying small craft and freighters for most of her adult life, so the cockpit was almost second nature to her. In all her years however, she never had done flight maneuvers while in combat armor, and Mandalorian armor no less. It was a bit of a struggle if she was being honest, and not for the reason one would think. It was the damn wrist controls of all things giving her trouble. Every time she had pulled back on the yoke to reposition herself, the damn carbonite launcher would get the great idea to douse her instruments; not only setting her off, but keeping her from making critical evasion maneuvers.
While the idea of dog fighting around a station was all well and good, River was finding herself struggling more with her suit than evading enemy fire, and it was starting to cost her. Two shots to the back engine caused the flight computer to start sputtering alarms at her, but the residue of the carbonite had fogged up the screen. She brushed obstruction away, getting a glance at the screen, and muttering profanities at the faulty weapon release system she had made. The read out wasn't good, and the sputtering fire coming from her aft engines indicated it was time to cut her losses.
Moving to escape the oncoming fire of the station, River had made a fatal error; she thought it was over. Reaching with her right arm to readjust the shielding of her craft, the wrist mounted flame thrower deployed. Though the situation might have seemed comical to anyone viewing on the outside, while inside the cockpit the situation was no laughing matter. The control panal exploded, filling the cockpit with smoke, as River struggled to disengage the weapon, her ship falling under another wave of fire from the station defenses. The alarms going off in her ship were nearly deafening, as a panic began to set into the woman, trying to look through the smoke for a ticket out of here.
"This is Kryze, rear stabilizer is shot, have to eject." She sputtered, her hand reaching for the ejection switch. She felt something 'click' against her finger, and the sensation of being torn out of her ship, her head snapping against the head rest as fires of the cockpit were snuffed out. She heard one last 'whoosh' as she was tossed into the open, catching a glimpse of her smoldering wreck of a fighter hurtle beneath her. Several shots from the station moved underneath her, seeking out and striking her unmanned craft, as it blossomed into a fireball as it neared the edge of her vision. For a time, she was left in silence, her only companion being the thudding of her heart, and the anxieties that were currently plaguing her mind. What was she thinking? What was she even thinking with this stupid plan? A sudden realization struck her as she drifted, bringing her back into the realm of the living.
If she had only waited a few more moments, if she hadn't panicked, she could have been with her family again.
But she wasn't ready to let go, not yet.
Taking a moment to steady herself, River collected herself, mind trying to figure out on where to go from here. Her way out was no longer feasible, and she was in enemy territory. At times like this, adaptation was a must. As she considered her options, she found herself rapidly approaching the station, her ejection course seemingly putting her on a collusion course. Perfect. She found the near by hanger bay to be her best possible escape route, and prepared herself for probably the second most risky flight she would embark on today. As she unfastening her safety harness, River ensured her voice modulator was still working, and pushed herself into the void. To her relief, her jetpack fired up as she went to ignite it, propelling her away from the ejection seat, and towards the hanger bay, her heart thundering in her ears the whole time.
As she neared the shielding of the bay, she cut back on the jet pack, attempted to correct herself for when the artificial gravity caught her, and retrieved the blaster pistol still strapped to her side. Breaching the shield, she felt herself being pulled toward the ground, as she throttled on her pack, the sudden shift in physics throwing her off, as she made a rather clumsy landing; though she ended up on her feet none the less.
To River's luck, very few would notice her entrance, as it seemed the hanger bay was in the middle of a fire fight. Having hardly any time to take in the situation, she ran, blaster fire sailed towards her, striking near her feet, as the Corellian woman slide behind a large durasteel crate.
This just wasn't her day. Taking a moment to breath, she cycled to her heat vision, taking in the count of the opponents in the room from cover, and deducing where to go from here. Mandalorians would have weak to near invisible signs if this was the infiltration team, which made it much easier to figure out who the targets were. Peeking out from cover, River began to fire at her assumed opponents, with her own....unique style of shooting.
"Pew, pew pew." It helped her stay calm.