Deepspace

[Ciara]

One of the men threw a real grenade at Ciara as she advanced on the group's position. Blaster bolts flew randomly in her direction as she avoided the movements of the shooters with inhuman speed and precision, almost making it look like a dance as she jumped and twisted. She was still in midair as she snatched the grenade out of the air, spun around like a hurricane and sidearmed the grenade back at the Rodian seemingly even without looking. Her eyes flashed, red laser beams cutting up one of the human thugs into pieces as the Rodian disappeared in the superheated fireball of a plasma grenade.

She landed in front of the man with a disruptor, classifed as the largest threat at this close range. Before he could even bring it to bear and sequeeze the trigger, she snapped his arm with such force that it broke, sending his weapon to the ground. With the same grip, she brought him around like a ragdoll, catching three energy bolts from his friend's carbine in the chest.

Ciara dropped his remains and propelled herself impossibly high into the air with a jump-flip, coming down right at the last man, still reeling from the shock of hitting his partner and the look of a girl coming down at him like a divebomber. Her eye lasers flashed again and cut off his arm even as he lifted his weapon against her. He had barely opened his mouth to scream as she landed immediately in front of him. She clutched her prey and again took to the skies in a six metre jump, all while holding her assailer too tightly for him to even struggle successfully, should he have managed it over the sudden shock of losing his arm. She smiled wolfishly as she landed back on the upper level soundlessly with a perfectly calculated and executed jump.

"Look what I've brought to the party, Loki. Loki?"

She unceremoniously dropped the man on the floor and turned around. "Oh", she sighed, and a concerned look appeared on her face as she noticed the person threatening her new friend. For the moment, Loran was sort of safe, having taken a forcible entry into another airspeeder. Recognizing each other as the new main threats, the girl and the large man slowly approached, each measuring the other carefully. Suddenly he charged, and she caught his wrists in the blow. He lifted his arms with a mighty heave, and threw the girl overhead backwards. She flipped and landed without damage in perfect balance, spinning around to face her opponent just as he rushed her again with both greater speed and power than any organic could have mustered. The building shook noticeably while dust and dried paint fell to the floor as they both hit the duracrete wall with enough force to smash it in. In the next moment, he was flying backwards from a double-kick as she brought up her legs against him.

"Are you okay, Loki? I can take care of your damage as soon as I've dealt with..."

Ciara didn't get to finish that sentence as her cyborg opponent bull-rushed her again. He seemed to be built for close combat, speed, power, and heavy armour making him more like a bio-tank than a living breathing person. In comparison, Ciara looked small, cute, and fragile. She braced for impact, her shoes already broken from the kick just before. The duracrete threw up grey clouds of dust particles as her feet ripped up the floor in the attempt to stop the advance of the much heavier cyborg. Her eyes flashed red, her lasers hitting his face and burning up synthskin only to reveal shining metal under it. No sound escaped her lips, but her teeth bared in anger. His face may have had lighter armour, but it was blaster-reflective. Suddenly her movement backwards stopped. "Auxilliary power... activated!", she raised her voice and lifted her opponent high up in the air before throwing him straight across the entire parking space and with enough force to bury him in the opposite duracrete wall in a cloud of dust, grey particles and a thundering boom as the wall reverbated.

She was still in a combat stance, breathing heavily, clothes in tatters, bleeding from multiple scratches including a large one to the left on her chest going down toward her stomach, also revealing her purple-white striped and laced underwear with a red stain on it. "Minor damage to secondary subsystems. 97 per cent operational. Self-repair processes initiated", she assessed her own status before returning her interest back to Loran. "Are you all right, Loki?", she voiced her concerns as she ripped the roof off the airspeeder he had crashed into before her entrance, dumping it with a loud clank and several smaller ones on the floor. "Don't worry, I'll have you back up in no time. I have extensive files on human anatomy", she reassured him as she pulled him out of the car.

[Loki Mortist]

It was an odd vision that came to Loran's bleary senses: a vision of looking up from the leather backseat of a torn and mangled wreck of an airspeeder. It was hard for him to do anything but groan to himself as his head seemed to pound , let alone breathe as it seemed with every inhalation some jarring pain seemed to pierce his upper chest. He knew something of what that could mean, a cracked rib, potentially a pierced lung. All in all things which, while painful might only serve to slow him down until he could receive proper medical treatment. The IntOrg agent was oddly groggy as well, probably from a concussion. Taking several deep breaths as possible Loran tried to gain a better awareness of his senses, a quick check of fingers and toes assured him they were still there in some semblance of order... except where the cyborg grabbed him...

His eyes gazed down at the sight, a purplish bruised mass of swelling flesh that made his hand seem three times its normal size. And the shoulder he had hurt previously seemed out of whack too. It was strange that the pain hadn't yet registered in his brain, probably from the shock...

Shaking his head to clear it, he continued looking upward, only to see what appeared to be a bloody and battered young woman holding up part of the roof before discarding it to the side with the same disdain one might treat some sort of scrap.

"Loki? Don't worry Loki, I'll have you patched up in a jiffy." came a voice he recognized yet couldn't properly place right now. Ah, yes, Ciara. That was it. After the young woman gave him a once over, Mortist felt himself lifted from his rather ungainly position in the back of what used to be referred to as a proper means of conveyance. When the telltale sound of shattered glass tinkling as it hit the ground below became clearer he took stock of his new friends condition, trying to do so in as much a clinical manner as possible.

'Whatever could have occurred to mess up Ciara so badly?"

The Imp just had to crackle in the background of his brain that at least it was a hot mess of sorts, down to the color of the- He stopped himself right there for once exerting the control over his brain that very few gentlemen in the entire universe might achieve.

While the vision that came to his senses was disturbing, he didn't like the thought of the kid being hurt. His careful eye noted the fact it seemed to mean her injuries weren't quite as damaging to the cyborg chassis as they seemed. So it was a matter of asking about the rest of her functionality.

"What's your status, Ci Ci? You alright? You in any pain?" he asked in as gentlemanly manner as possible keeping his gaze at her facial features, remaining at eye level no matter how much they wanted to wander.

A smile came from the girl as she replied, " I'm still at 97% capacity, Mr. Drebin, my subroutines are healing the damage in an efficient manner. Right now I think I'm a little more worried about you at the moment."

Loran nodded once as he factored the scene which came to his view, cataloguing the giant hole in the duracrete wall, the bits of displaced plaster and the signs of dead men down below.

"We'll have to hold any treatment off a bit for awhile , Ci Ci. Where's tall dark and ugly?"

Ciara blinked a while a moment, probably trying to puzzle out just who Loran meant at the moment. "Oh you mean the combat cyborg?"
"Yes,"

Ciara's lithe arm gainly stretched over in the direction of the giant hole in the wall, "He's in there, Why do you ask?"

Without answering Loran walked over to the nearest support pillar and used his left arm to position his right before throwing himself into the wall to pop it again back into place as stars clouded his vision... He staggered a little, going down to one knee before standing back up to turn and face Ciara. With a disarming smile he said, "Because we should try to get his memory core, see if Deepspace is on that floor we heard from Mr. S. about or if there are any codes we'll need to get through whatever security NRI has up there. If we are lucky we can use something to bust in from the outside to make a snatch and grab for the asset's extraction. But first?"

"Hmm..." came's Ciara's thoughtful gaze, " There was a disruptor down below with the others, But what is it, Mr. Drebin?"

Loran gingerly shrugged off his suit jacket , shaking it out to the sound of more pieces of falling glass. He checked it for any other fragments and removing his datapad before he draped it around the kid's shoulders. It was rather large on her, stretching almost to the point where it came down to mid thigh level, looking in a way he wasn't going to allow himself to ponder... "Here, wear this to keep the chill off you. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold, Ci Ci."

The young woman -like cyborg cocked her head slightly to the side in a fashion as she drew the suit jacket around herself, "But what do you mean>I can't catch a cold, Mr. Drebin."

Loran just shook his head as he averted his gaze towards the hole in the wall... he took out his datapad's connection cables and placed them in his mouth while stumbling to get the rest of his gear in one hand, the only good one he had left and prepared to get to work.
" 'Ey Ci Ci?" he mumbled through the wires in his mouth, "Can you get the airspeedah' "

She blinked, once. then nodded and to Loran's astonishment jumped up the three story distance to the third floor of the garage. He shook himself , forcing his attention to the task at hand, putting the cables into the cyborg's connection jack right under the casing of the brain pan. He knew that he wouldn't have much time before the automatic countermeasures attempted to stop his hack.

Wasting no time, Loran booted up his datapad to insinuate a number of bogus diagnostic requests for a damage report of the dying systems output... With that being undertaken he inserted a 'snatch and grab' of all the data remaining in the visual registry buffer before sending in several viruses to wipe the data clean, unfortunately ensuring that the cyborg's last ditch life support systems faltered as the sound of an airspeeder descending behind him became clearer in his perception...

He glanced quickly up as a door was opened and Ciara came out with her bag in hand-deceptively inching closer to him out of the corner of his eye. The R4 droid's dome was swiveling in the backseat in three hundred and sixty degree revolutions... it was probably scanning the garage for any more threats...

Good, he might use Ciara's bag to hold the disruptor rifle being one handed and all... oh wait, the bag!

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwchhhh!!!!!!!!!" Mortist let out in a barely controlled yelp as without so much as a 'by your leave' the young woman had stuck him in the right hand with another of those blasted shots!
"Hey Ci Ci. Could you at least-" He started to voice his irritation before in a split second's span of time he realized that she had reloaded the cartridge...

This time the puncturing needle was aimed at his back somewhere close to his left lung... He hissed in pain as he felt the medical . "Ah FRAAAAAAAAAAAAA-" he bit of his reply and transmuted to a slur, of "FIddlesticks this to h- heck! By the force, Ci Ci! Give a guy a warning before you do something like that!"

Ciara just blinked and smiled in a cute manner as she replied in an overly cheery manner, "Well, my research lead me to a statement of causality which seems to work best in this situation. What was it? A here it is in the registry: Better to beg pardon then ask permission. I felt this course of action was the required one as you already told me that treatment should be put off to a later point. So: this is a later point, is it not?"

Mortist blinked once, and then twice before sighing.

'How could one stay angry at such a naive person? Especially if they were as easy on the eyes as his new found friend. He was quite sure in the future the kid might happily break a thousand boys hearts - when she was older... and most certainly not with him. His girlfriend would brutally murder him in his sleep if such occurred.But still- the thought was tempting, as was the situation of temptation in general...

And then he realized those types of thoughts probably might lead him to a very special hell set aside for those who took advantage of young women in the wrong situations. A place probably reserved for murderers and other assorted criminals.

He wasn't going to allow his thoughts to roam any more along these lines so he simply smiled back at the kid and said, "Ciara, I appreciate the concern, but in a better situation you might be able to administer treatment with less pain to the individual, on a mission any new stimuli introduced at a moment when someone is injured can be dangerous to them."

"Dangerous?"

"Yes, you don't want someone to black out on you in hostile territory: nor do you ever want to jump into a situation like you did before alone if you can help it. We're all here to back each other up whenever possible."

Ciara's eyes got a little wider as she pursed her lips to ponder the situation, "I see... I shall ruminate upon these observations, In the meantime, may I see the datapad?"

"Sure, he handed it over. " Only to be amazed once more as she did her little trick again with being able to access it without a connection jack. "Ah, yes it is confirmed, Deepspace is at floor level 47, suite B12 as Mr. S. reported, the NRI activation code from the visual data shows this cyborg operative entering the room via use of a numerical encryption key on the lock. I have it now... Should we report this to Lady Scarlet and Mr. S? Judging by the prior hospital schematics it is probably within ten meters of the Northwest corner of the building."

"Loran walked over to pick up the disruptor rifle and taking the Black Sun member's comlink. Calmy noting the type of slicing burn wounds present on the bodies. It was almost as if a high powered scalpel had been used to dice parts of them into chunks. Laser's perhaps? Maybe from the fingertips of the chassis? Just why was a kid allowed such heavy firepower in the first place? He didn't really know. Perhaps it was because the emperor wanted the kid to be able to keep herself safe?

Suddenly a bit of whimpering came from close by something he felt he needed to investigate. Surprisingly it seemed that at the front of the transport was a one armed man who looked more like a slab of tenderized hamburger was struggling to turn over the keys in the ignition... and failing miserably. One of the black sun members that Ciara had left alive?

Damn, the guy must have dragged himself here in an attempt to get away... kind of an ironic way to die though...

He raised the disruptor, hesitating only for a moment to pull the trigger when the thug looked at him with a wild expression on his face. "Sorry pal, this isn't your day and I was told there weren't supposed to be any witnesses. I guess that means you're all out of luck."


The trigger was pulled, and in a few seconds the deadly beam transformed the man's head into a liquidy grey dust...

He glanced around once, and sighed, taking stock of things before he slung the disruptor up to rest on his shoulder. He turned back in the direction of Ciara and the airspeeder, walking over to the passenger side of the cabin.

"Time to go, kid."

He waited until she was back at the wheel before finally giving her his reply to her earlier question. "About what you said for contacting the boss: Yeah, sure. Let's do it. See if you can get a message to both of them, and spike one to Lorn to either proceed back to the transport or regroup at the safe house. Tell the bosses we'll try to make a crash extraction of DEEPSPACE out of the location from the exterior with the speeder. Warn them there's probably more Black Sun and NRI hereabouts. We won't have another chance to get this asset out with all the killing that's been done around her today unless we make it fast..."

Ciara "But Loran, the exterior walls are thick enough that even a mortar shell fired at it would be difficult to penetrate successfully."

Loran waggled the disruptor on his shoulder in the air at her with a bright smile, "What do you think this is for, Ci Ci?"

The young woman blinked as the airspeeder started to ascend up to a point just outside the Level 47's windows. "I see Mr. Drebin. You're right, that just might work. But who is going to jump in the building to pull the asset out? We should be at the most desirable point of entrance in about sixty seconds..."

Loran flashed her his most debonair smile, as he tried to reassure her. He checked the power pack of the disruptor: still over halfway full. .."Why my dear friend, that will be your task of course. I'll just have the R4 mech keep the airspeeder steady as we carve a hole out. If there's any more guards coming close to you I'll try to turn the disruptor on them to see how they like melting into a pile of ash."

'Now if only he might reassure himself he might actually be able hit anything with this type of weapon.' The last time he had handled a disruptor was when that freelancer helped him improve his shooting skills a little... In the background of his thoughts he noticed the little R4 unit letting out a slow melancholic dee - doooot of a wail. It was quite obvious to him that the little guy didn't like it's experience so far today at all.

[Crystala Endivain]

The closer she got to DEEPSPACE's room, the more Crystala sensed something big was about to happen. The other woman neared the room with ease and approached the two guards standing outside dressed in New Republic security outfits, no doubt NRI agents sent to keep an eye on their captive. They noticed the woman approaching them but suspected she would simply walk past. They also noticed the security guard behind her but their brains hardly had time to process that when both of them were suddenly struck by two concealed vibro-knives in their throats, not even given the chance to draw their weapons before falling to the ground.

Crystala was about to spring forward when the woman spun around and, from the heel of her shoe, pulled out a hold-out blaster, raised it and fired in one fluid motion. The shot narrowly missed her head, the sudden warning from the Force allowing Crystala to react faster than the other woman's precise aiming skills.

Seeing her shot miss, the woman fired off another one in Crystala's general direction, not bothering to aim as her goal was to simply keep the false security guard back long enough for her to gain access to the room.

I wish I had my lightsaber, Crystala thought to herself, having wished that she bothered to incorporate the same technology in the stealth suit into her lightsaber. Something to think about when she got back home, but for now, she had a bigger concern. The acquired blaster from the security guard was now in her left hand and she was in a wide open hallway. Acting instinctively, she made a break for an open door nearby, snapping off several shots all of which did little more than put small black pock marks in the otherwise pristine wall and door.

Rather than curse her inability to aim any sort of firearm, Crystala used the same tactic against her target, hoping it would distract her enough to allow her to close the distance as she did a quick mental estimation of the distance left. A good ten feet, but a trio of shots stopped short any ideas of moving just yet. Peering around again, Crystala saw the other woman on her feet, some sort of card in her hand, blaster still pointed in her general direction, firing eerily accurate shots, accurate enough to prevent Crystala from moving just yet.

The door to DEEPSPACE's room started to hiss open, alarms inside the hospital started to go of, alerting people on this and other floors about the dangerous situation. Already security was enroute, Crystala could sense them stomping up and down the steps. Time seemed to slow down, as did the door as Crystala, eyes a mixture of red and blue, made a break for the same door. Another set of blaster shots erupted from the hold-out, a wide spread as the door was now open a quarter of the way, the assassin already starting to try and squeeze through.

Searing pain erupted from her thigh as the energy bolt struck her. The Force helped ease the pain and carry her momentum as she lept from her feet, the door now halfway open and the woman inside, blaster already pointed at a new target. As the finger squeezed back the trigger, Crystala crashed into her, knocking the holdout of her her hand just as the shot started to leave the barrel. Before she could become concerned with the objective, or even with the blaster, the sound of something outside caught her attention for a moment, a speeder of some sort. She didn't get the chance to dwell on it as a flash of a vibro-knife drew her vision back to her target who wasn't pleased with her interference again.

"You again?" she spat, recognizing Crystala. "I take it you're not really with the hospital."

"Just figured that out you did you?" Crystala returned, grasping the knife hand before tossing away her blaster to take hold of the other hand which revealed another vibro-knife, a clever trick but one ultimately lost on her. She was about to try and force one of the knives back at her as her effort slackened on one arm when a high pitched whine came from outside. Her assailant was wondering what it was, like Crystala, but for a moment too long as Crystala, knowing whatever it was had to be bad, rolled over away from the wall and put the woman between the wall and her as the disruptor discharged, blasting a sizable hole in the wall which caused some debris to shower into the room, thankfully away from DEEPSPACE but, unfortunately, in the direction of the two women.

Or rather, unfortunately for the human shield who was struck several times by pieces of duracrete and transparisteel. Her struggle suddenly ceased and as the dust cleared, Crystala could see a sizable chunk of transparisteel sticking out from the front of the woman's neck. Looking out of the hole, she could see Loran holding a disruptor and looking somewhat pleased with his handiwork before he spotted her.

"Well, I guess I should be thankful?" Crystala asked, getting to her feet, her thigh stinging from the shot earlier. From behind her, she could sense rapidly approaching security guards, blasters drawn. Getting to the door, she lifted her hand in the direction of the blaster she had tossed and let it fly back into her grasp. Aiming at the control panel even she couldn't miss at point-blank, she fired several shots which triggered the emergency override before using the Force again to pull the door shut to buy them some time. It was a struggle to force the motors to let the door seal shut again, as if she were pulling an entire Star Destroyer several kilometers but the door managed to close, the motors burnt out and now locked in place thanks to the override.

[Loki Mortist]

Here he, Loran Mortist, was : in an airspeeder, at a high altitude on Coruscant: once again pondering what had to be one of the strangest twists of fate as he stared into the room beyond where the disruptor had crumpled the wall.

Just staring...

... at the Director....

... who he almost accidently slagged.

He could almost hear Eva's voice now sarcastically saying , "Yeah, that would look really great on your record. Responsible for blowing the Director to bits of atoms and dust." For a few moments Loran could almost see the court martial bench and the hangman's noose as they slowly appeared within the haze of his peripheral vison... It wasn't the best of daydreams to be had. That was for sure.

He visibly shook himself a little first, attempting to regain some sense of his composure. 'By the force, his actions today were probably going to make him either end up dead at her hands...' He glanced towards Ciara- noting her damaged attire and slowly healing scratches as she wore his coat. His mind added a slight addendum to whose hands he might end up at ... with the Emperor's being upon the list[/i].'

Either way-no matter how one sliced it, the events that transpired here today mortified him. But. all things considered: Loran believed he had held up rather well on the moralistic approach to things. Aside from a few errant thoughts he was actually viewing this situation of his own making as somewhat humorous.

Save for the nagging feeling at the back of his mind he'd hear about all this later no matter how it turned out.

'Oh well, when you're given a set of lemons, you might as well make lemonade.'

With a sort of abashed and roguish smile upon his face he forced himself to shrug before yelling out. He might as well go in for a penny and in for a pound. "Hello there, Lady Scarlet! You and Mr. S need a lift?"

While waiting for a reply Loran looked down with a maverick like grin at where Ciara was languishing patiently in the driver's seat and whispered, hoping the Director couldn't hear them. "You don't think she's angry at us , do you?"

[Ciara]

"You don't think she's angry at us , do you?"

"Will it make a difference?", she answered his question with a question of her own. Ciara was busy preparing her entrance into the building, now to help Lady Scarlet get Deepspace out of the hospital. She lifted R4 into the driver's seat. "Doo-bee-dooot", it expressed its displeasure over their decidedly nonstandard speeder tryout. "Don't worry little guy, it'll be fine and no one is going to blame you for anything", she smiled beautifully and patted its top dome as she stood up in the passenger's seat. She took off Loran's jacket and hung it over R4, drawing another discontented whine from it.

Without further ado, she left Loran with his medically subsiding pains and worries and jumped the distance across from the speeder to the hospital, well above terminal velocity altitude. Already from the car, she had watched Crystala do her Force thing on the door. Since the Director had already dispatched the threats inside the room, she went to look over Deepspace, who was sedated... and strapped down.

"Bureau of Ships and Services registry license class 1 Olan Dorus Tiovata. PING registry B23459-T453. Visual identification confirmed". She procured a syringe from her bag and proceeded to take a sample from the man as well while scanning him thoroughly. "Minor tissue damage, superficial contusions", she added to her diagnosis. "Chemical abnormalities present. Skirtopanol, lotiramine, lecepanine, norbutal, cardinex. Truth serum, toxic antidote, paralytics, toxic shock treatment. Nucleotide compound abnormality detected, undetermined. Radiological agent polonium-210 confirmed."

"Can he be moved?", the Director asked without revealing her thoughts, either regarding the diagnosis, the situation, or Ciara's state of (un)dress.

"Since he's survived the toxic someone's treated him for... yes. The isotope is slowly killing him, though. He requires serious treatment or he'll die within a week or two. He might do that anyway. Should I take him to the speeder?", Ciara looked at Crystala. Of course, the hospital had everything needed to cure him right there, but going by the vibrations from the corridor, that wasn't likely to happen. She didn't alert Crystala to it. As a Force user, she would surely pick it up long before they came a-knocking. Federation space was close enough that they could make it back in time, but first they had to get off the planet.

Muffled shouts could be heard from the other side of the door. They still had a little time before the guards decided to force the door with their blasters, but... "A planet-wide alert is going out. They are looking for a small dangerous group of terrorists holding hostages at the Last Hope hospital. I think they mean us. There's some kind of reference to Orowood Medcenter and someone called 'The Knave' as well. According to my databank, that's a recently famous criminal in holding. Do you require a playback of the message?"

[Crystala Endivain]

"Play it back as we get out of here," Crystala answered, backing away from the door, wishing she had a lightsaber right now. "Load him up and let's hope we can lose the authorities in all the speeder traffic." Right now, escape was their priority, closely followed by either getting off the planet with Deepspace or trying to get whatever information they could from him before he died and then leave.

She watched Ciara break the straps holding the man in place before picking him up to carry him to their new exit. She paused at the ledge, probably judging all sort of variables necessary to make the jump taking into account the extra weight and the need to not completely destabilize the speeder and send it crashing back into the outside wall. It probably only took her a second for she made the leap, landing back in the speeder with ease.

The guards outside banged on the door, demanding they surrender and open the door back up. Like I'm going to do that... Looking at the gap between her and the speeder, Crystala could see past the sprawling catwalks that connected many of the buildings down into the abyss that made up the lower levels and even the Undercity. Behind her, the sound of a blaster discharge forced her to make the jump. Landing on the speeder, she looked at Loran and said, "Mr. S will be able to handle himself." She had confidence in Saarael to slip away amid all the chaos and either regroup with the team or get back to NIF space on his own.

Inside the speeder, Crystala glanced at the R4 unit who gave a low, mournful tone, expression a supreme displeasure, no doubt about her and the extra passenger. Between the disruptor, Ciara's lack of clothe state and the R4 unit who clearly didn't want to be here, There's a story behind all this, and I'm positive I don't want to know...

The door to the room finally forced open and as the security guards spilled in, blasters raised. They were surprised to see a hole blown in the wall and that moment of pause was enough to allow the group to speed away, putting enough distance between them and the hospital to further stall their shooting as the heavy traffic outside hindered any clean shots.

But, as they managed to escape one group of problems, another arose as two speeders responding to the hostage situation appeared. "So, how familiar are you with the lower levels and their sky lanes?" Crystala asked aloud, glancing at her blaster and then behind her at the perusing speeders. Even if she could hit the moving target, a blaster wasn't going to do squat. But there was still another option as she focused on both of the pilots of the speeders, their intense concentration at following their query. She heard one of them give an update as to where the chase was going. If the speeder could maintain this course, they could make a few turns into the lower city and throw the entire chase into a ever widening grid as time groaned on.

Closing her eyes, she reached out through the Force in a more tangible way, tightening an invisible grip around both of their collective throats. Both of them struggled to breathe, one letting go of the controls in his effort for air. The speeder was flying a straight course, straight into an air-intersection that was otherwise easily avoided. His speeder clipped another and the resulting spin sent him flying into a nearby holoboard, hitting the projectors and triggering an explosion. The other speeder pilot was able to instinctively hit the brakes, bringing his speeder into a hover but Crystala wasn't going to let up and kept crushing his windpipe until she no longer felt his conscious response in the Force.

[Loki Mortist]

He was quite delighted when it seemed the party might take a bit of a breather as two following airspeeders crashed and burned behind them. With one hand he took out his datapad from his coat pocket, still leaving it on the droid and connected it into a Smartchrono before setting up a visual interface plate over his right eye.

A small three dimensional image of the surrounding holonet access points came to his view as he booted the smartchrono’s data “wifi” link into the holonet. Loran had calmly and quickly took a seat back in the passenger side of the vehicle as the Director, Ciara, and the target came back onboard. He was quite surprised to hear the warble of the R4 droid... as it seemed to take stock of the new people it now was having enter into jag.

He was glad when he heard no sirens approaching for the moment… it would give him enough time to figure out something.

“Stick to the traffic lanes if you can Ciara, let them lose us amidst the rest of the hustle and bustle.”

Working quickly Loran tried to gain access to the traffic routing systems, spawning a bunch of preprogrammed 'ghost' and 'morph' utilities into the surrounding secured net in an quick and somewhat dirty attempt to do what was needed to be done.

'Morph’ like programs attempted to disguise themselves as just another necessary system component. Whether something as simple as a routine system initialized maintenance program or high-priority data construct, etc such programs attempted to avoid raising a system alarm via cue or query programs or by convincing the system face it confronted that it was indeed supposed to be there. Unlike Ghosting, Morphing does leave a partial path that ICE or Trace utilities can attempt to utilize in tracking down the hackers entry point or real world location. Within the holonet’s matrix principles the Morph programs he used were sent of like little pac men attaching them to anything that could be termed ‘official’ flavoring. All such things designed to cause the ‘hacker’s virtual imprint’ to shift into the appearance of system iconography that should blend in and be granted passage without setting off system alarms.

The Ghost utilities were just what their name seems to imply. A utility that attempted to avoid leaving any traces whatsoever over the course of utilizing the matrix of a com node or any of its countless connected sub-systems., Ghost utilities were primarily used to avoid cue or query programs or Iconic Cloaking Integrity entirely as they pierced into a system’s protection walls. A spindle attack that utilized both Morph –like programs to establish a ‘beachhead’ in the system followed up by ghost programs was far more likely to be successful and come off without a hitch when he added a ‘viral scavenger’ program to the mix to leave no apparent trails or tracks for any trace utilities in the viable system to use in trying to ascertain the hackers point of entry or real-time location in the “meat” world. Within the holonet a successfully ghosted ‘imprint’ would be all but invisible, appearing even to itself as only a nigh-invisible shimmering aura of slightly warped data streams.

In short he was using these attack types in a spurious matter to gain control of the local traffic nets. He was successful at gaining access to the operating systems programs.Which in turn let him control one more key component of the environment : the traffic lights, which he now tried to keep switching up to confuse any pursuers.

“God I need some recaf. And we need a plan…”

The Droid started whirring, processing Loran’s request… It was becoming late into Coruscant’s night, and Mortist could hardly keep his eyes open as he listened to the low hum of the engine as it slowly flew down the vacant byways of the mid levels of city.

Mortist would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for the sound of a blastershot as it shattered the monotonous silence of the evening. He peered into the side mirror, only to see the blaring headlights of a large unmarked airspeeder with no emblem of identification behind them, as all he could see of the Director, was a lit blade which seemed to be deflecting the bolts. But as he looked further, Loran saw the outline of a man, his left arm out the driver’s side window, a blaster pistol clenched in the hand. To Loran’s right a man with a baton on speeder was coming in fast to pull up beside them.

“NRI, or the Black Sun! DAMN IT! Either way, they’ll already be moving to corner us Ci Ci! We have to get lower… Director, hold on! There’s more coming from below, speeder bikes as well… ”


The little droid with a bleeting ding extended a new cup of coffee.


Loran could hear a whir of some ozone from behind, probably the Director dealing with the new threats, He tried to point the disruptor towards the speeder coming up on ciara’s left , reaching across her to pull the trigger with his good hand… He was successful, and swiveled his aim towards the one on his right, but had it knocked out of his hand by the baton.

The disruptor spun to the ground, as Ciara veered the jag to the left. He couldn’t get his blaster pistol on his right holster, so he grabbed at the only thing he could- the new bulb of recaf which he promptly threw into the rider’s face.

The man squawked in pain and grabbed at his face before the airspeeder crashed into a car ahead of it. The rider’s body continued to go flying until the body’s falling trajectory took it out of sight of the receding party’s jaguar.

The Airspeeder tilted violently as it turned a corner on two repulsor jets. Sparks flew as it hit the guard buoy that kept cars from driving over the cliff. He could see Ciara jerk the steering wheel to the left, keeping a safe distance from the side of the route as tumbling buoy fell towards one of the speeders, coming up from below. The impact was almost impossible to factor off the top of his head. But he realized what Ciara was doing now.

It was the equivalent of using a cue ball to rebound a shot off the side wall to knock the eight ball into a corner pocket.


’Good kid, folks must be proud.’


However Loki’s heart rate still began to go mad, and his mind raced with thoughts. They had nowhere to go to escape this cordon except forward, and lower but Loki had to wonder. What in hell were these men saying about a terrorist incident and why the hell were they this doggedly persistent to follow them? Mortist had no time to think though as he desperately searched the layout of the cityscape and scanned the sketchy holomaps his datapad linked up with for any road signs of any passageway that could get them off of this level, although the difficulty had been multiplied greatly with Ciara veering and dodging shots coming from the van behind them. Even with the Director holding them off it would only be a matter of time before they brought enough firepower to bear that even she might not be able to handle without help. His eyes finally came across another buoy with a sign reading: DANGER: EXIT 15 leads to the UNDERCITY. NO ADMITTANCE AT ANY TIME… The only problem was- the sign was on the other side of the skylanes…


His eyes looked into the rearview mirror, Loran noticed that the airspeeders following them had fallen back some distance. Sighing in relief, he knew that he shouldn't think it was over to soon. The responding security forces might just catch up with them again if they weren’t careful. Especially with this new round of chasing.


“Ciara, the Exit… Take it!”


Without a word the Jag rounded up in a sharp curve over the two lane divider, before twisting up and partially through the opposing traffic, a bone jarring screech sounded from the below the jaguar as it once again scraped against a traffic buoy, sending it off kilter into incoming traffic as loran hit all the lights in the area to Red.

‘No point in causing needless casualties.’ Behind him, a pile up still ensued… and the sounds of dangerous explosions. ‘Oh well, can’t say he didn’t try...’


Almost cursing to himself, Loran shouted a bit off “Frack” before turning it into another “fiddlesticks" when Ciara floored the acceleration petal, making the distance between them and their pursuers grow large again. He just hoped that he could keep that new found distance between them long enough for them to come up with something…


‘Who knew what might happen should that lead disappear?


With a hard earned reprieve, the airspeeder entered the Undercity level with all of its passengers intact. Teenage Driver aside… It had been handled quite adeptly, and not at any speeds where things might injure their medically encumbered charge.


“Alright Ciara- I think it’s safe to play that broadcast now, what are these NRI halfwit chumps saying? And at this moment should we strike for the shuttle and make it off this rock, or should we get to the safehouse? I’d prefer getting off this rock if possible unless any intel this guy can give us is worth sticking around.”

As he listened he pondered that at very least, just what the NRI might be up against in they didn’t give up against the three, no wait make that four things that started with C that would guarantee their escape…

Yes these four things alone would make the NRI rue this day… he disengaged from the traffic control systems and scrammed any backwash patterns. He was a little relieved. ‘The first being Crystala- and her abilities therein, Ciara – with her special talents, and him- or more specifically his computer, ‘ he looked back at the little droid, ‘and last but not least… Coffee.’

He figured the entire NIF structure had to run on the stuff… and that now included him as well. Mortist tapped the R4 on the dome, it still being under his coat, before whispering, ”Got another cup little buddy?” An almost muted, lamenting droid wail was the only reply… before another whirring sound ensued. So when Loran sat back , sipping his new cup of joe he decided he’d let the other two handle the final decision of where to go next.

[Savio]

Lorn Savio knew he was in trouble as soon as he entered the underground area. Scumbags everywhere. They were all talking, loud, obnoxious and yet a certain sense of order reigned among them as well. He needed to get out of here as fast as he could. All eyes had suddenly turned on him. His face appeared harsh and uncaring. He looked towards the bar. The bartender stared at him.

"I want a glass of Corellian Ale." Lorn put some credits on the table and sat himself roughly down into a chair at the bar. A moment later he held some Corellian Ale and the attention was no longer focused on him. Putting down his glass, he slipped through the small, but noisy, crowd towards what seemed to be a back exit. Everything was going perfectly fine. He had gotten out of the crowd, he was ready to leave. When he nearly bumped into the guard at the back exit.

"I need to see your pass."

"What? Oh, here it is." Lorn fished his hand around in his belt as if he was grabbing a card, then he put his hand forward, as if to show it to the man, when the vibro-knife was activated on the gauntlet he wore. The guard's strangled cry never reached his lips. It sank back down in a bloody gurgle.

Lorn, work finished there, headed out of the place after 'fixing' something onto the wall. Savio exited the underground area quickly. The earth shuddered slightly beneath his feet, consequence of the blast that had likely killed all of the black sun members in there. The initial blast may not have, but the rebounding blast in the underground, stone place, with no windows. It would be like standing right beneath a gigantic bell and ringing it. You'd be turned to mush. And that's exactly what Lorn believed the Black Sun syndicate in their underground hideout to be.

Moments later he relayed an encrypted message to Loran asking him where they should meet up as he raced along on a borrowed speeder bike.

[Saarael Tiberius]

As the turbolift quickly went along through the levels going up to level 47 from where Saarael could finally locate, and if not do it himself, assist in the extraction of DEEPSPACE once and for all from this hospital. The other man in the elevator impatiently tapped his foot, muttered to himself, and all around proved to be a general nuisance as the floors ticked by on the display above the door. 37...37...39...40...41...and then it stopped.

The stoppage was not one which one could classify as 'normal' in any respect, as it happened quite abruptly and violently, throwing both men from their feet. Quite luckily for Saarael, in the commotion that followed, with the internal lights going out, and the swearing of his ignorant fellow turbolift passenger, that the two did not collide and no sound was heard from Saarael by the other. Within a matter of seconds of course, the lights came back online as the man, still swearing profusely to himself, got up and dusted himself off. Over the intercom unit a pre-recorded message began playing in a neutral, calm female voice. "We are sorry, but it seems turbolift service has been interrupted by a sudden loss of power - our technical team is already working on the problem and maintainence staff will be along shortly. If there are any injuries or urgent matters in your turbolift, please use the red emergency comm button in the turbolift to contact the main desk. We are very sorry for the inconvenience."

This, of course, presented a problem for Saarael, as he was now unable to get to the objective, and couldn't quite transmit his location or predicament to the others without alerting the other man to his presence which in any case would turn out badly. Settling in to wait, he observed the man's movements to make sure that he wouldn't be run into, kicked, stepped on, or any other such inconvenience.

---Some time later---

Amidst foundation-rattling explosions, the lighting in the turbolift dimmed again, and the distinct blaring of loud alarms could be heard, surely signalling that something was happening with DEEPSPACE several levels above. As to exactly what it was, and who was instigating it, Saarael could not know. Becoming somewhat alarmed, the man in the elevator pushed the red emergency comm button next to the door of the elevator, to which there was a short ringing before it stopped and a voice on the other end answered, "This is the main desk, how can we help you?"

"Uh, I'm trapped here in on the 41st floor in a turbolift, and there are all sorts of explosions going on up a few levels it sounds like. When are you going to get me out?"

"Oh, I am horribly sorry about that. There has been a terrorist attack on the hospital on level 47. I am afraid we do not have any technical teams near you. Can you read me the serial number on the plaque above the door of your turbolift? I may be able to manually control it from here to bring you back down to the main level."

"What?!?" He exclaimed in response to the terrorist attack comment, before squinting up at the plaque on the wall and reading off the numbers "It says J-127B-TYU6. Now, can you please get me out of here before something more happens and I get killed?"

"I am doing my best, sir. Give me a moment and I will try."

The line went quiet for a moment, and then the turbolift started slowly to descend - nowhere near its normal operating speeds, but certainly going down, as was indicated when the sign above the door showed the number 40 once again, and eventually went to 39. "When you get to the main floor, we have techs who will disengage the doors and you will be able to get out. I am horribly sorry about all of this!"

Fuming silently for once, the other man stormed out of the turbolift the moment the doors were opened on the main level, an entrance that kept everyone else's attention while Saarael, still ostensibly cloaked, walked out calmly and began looking for an exit. In the room were 5 armed and uniformed security guards, and a number of noticably distraught looking people. Waiting around for an opening, Saarael walked around the room and perused any sort of information he could find, always vigilant to any unsuspected movements or disturbances caused by his presence that would tip off everyone in the room that there was, actually, one more person there than there should have been.

As the much-muffled sounds of fighting sounded many levels above them, the civilians crouched down and hid behind anything they could, which the security officers covered the doors. It all went on for quite a long time, before finally Coruscant Security forces came in and began processing everyone in the room, asking for statements, and in general it seemed that they were going about the actual business of securing the building.

With the constant flow of officers in and out of the hospital from a number of police airspeeders parked right out in front, Saarael had no troubles getting outside once again, but the trouble it seemed was now how to get out of a lockdown crime scene situation without tipping anyone off that in fact, he was likely the only living soul still on the property who knew exactly what had happened.

High up above, there was a large bulky fire-control airspeeder hovering outside of a section of the wall that had been blown completely open. Wow. I hope that was our guys doing that, and not our guys getting blown up in that. After a moment of observing the wreckage of the building up above, he scanned the skyways to see if there were any traffic diversions, and indeed there were, with tight security keeping the area on a lockdown of sorts, except to the occasional police speeder which was permitted to enter or exit.

If they've got the entrances and exits blocked off to everything but official transit...I suppose I will have to make myself more official then, won't I? Perusing the line of police speeders, Saarael knew it would be highly unlikely that he could hijack one of them from under their noses right here without the officers inside quickly noticing the theft, but it was quite possibly the only way to get out of here in a timely matter. In any case, the matter of whether or not it took a long time to get out of here depended upon his mental health, as keeping the suit's stealth features activated for too long would affect that negatively, and it would be key to his getting offworld, with the rest of the team or on his own.

Without further communication from the rest of the team, it was safe to assume that they were out of range for the equipment they had on hand with its tight-beam encryption frequencies, and it was highly unlikely that a broadcast from him, if even heard by them, would be responded to as they were likely trying to lay low. If at all possible, they would return to the ship to transport DEEPSPACE off-world if they had indeed acquired him. If not, they would still likely try the ship after evading their pursuit. Failing that, the ISIS safehouse was the next best bet, but chances are they would avoid it like the plague if they could to keep it around until another day. And that of course means that failing our original extraction plans, they will be forced to get some other form of transit offworld.

Seeing a lull in the amount of activity to and from the speeders, Saarael finally settled upon one that he was going to take, based upon the fact that there was an officer sitting within it doing paperwork. Reaching through the open window of another of the line of six airspeeders right in front of the hospital's main entrance, he grabbed the mic for the built-in comm system used to communicate between the different airspeeders and their dispatch. Crouching down as low as he could get, so the thing was not seen floating in mid air, he held it up against the hull of the airspeeder and activated it.

"Who all is still out in the speeders at the hospital?" He asked in the most officious tone possible. Luckily, the officer in the speeder two more down did not hear the noise through the air, but through his comm set, and he responded after a moment, "Sergeant Shivvy here. I'm the only one out in the speeders doing the exact calcs on damage and casualties."

"Sergeant, no need to do all of that just yet. We need backup in the pursuit and it's coming back over your way. Get any other officers into their speeders and set up a search grid around the hospital to watch for the airspeeder matching the description we were given earlier for our pursuit."

"Will do, though I'm pretty sure nobody is avaliable to come back to their speeders right now, I'm the only mobile unit and we've got the droids doing perimiter on the hospital itself."

Dropping the comm device back into the speeder from which he had been doing the communication, he hurried over to the airspeeder of this Sergeant Shivvy and, walking up to the open window, reached in to grab the man's head and neck, twisting violently to the sickening pop of his neck breaking, and opened the door to climb in on the other side, still cloaked by the sneaksuit. Pushing the activation button, the airspeeder whirred to life and Saarael took upon the daunting task of piloting it as best as possible from the passenger seat while maintaining the illusion that the good Sergeant was indeed still in perfectly good health.

Making it out of the secured perimiter, he reached over and increased the acceleration, merging in with a lane of traffic heading away from the hospital, before abruptly pulling the speeder out of the traffic and up from where its driver could not be seen by others. Saarael went about switching seats with the Sergeant, and de-activating the sneaksuit he wore. Now fully in control of the police airspeeder, he turned up the comm scanner to pick up on the police chatter going on and try and figure out exactly where his compatriots could be found.

From the sound of the conversation and reports going through the comms, the terrorists, as they were being called, had successfully evaded pursuit for the time being, though it was highly suspected that they had descended to the treacherous depths of the lower levels of the city, where no civilized beings could be found. Rather, the undercity was populated by the most hardened criminals to be found anywhere on the planet, and was a certain deathwish for the Coruscant Elite to visit. And that is where I must go, it seems.

Changing into the police uniform, Saarael dumped the body out of the airspeeder after he had descended below the vast majority of the traffic lanes. It would fall for some time before finally hitting a building's outcropping, or finally hitting the ground. Wherever it came to rest, it would never be found. Or at least, not by anybody who would ever report finding a body laying around. Chances were more likely that whoever found it would eat it. And on top of that, it is more of a 'whatever' than a 'whoever' issue down there, anyways.

[Ciara]

Ciara's voice changed to that of a male radio announcer as she delivered the message, all while driving like she was in a podrace and the other drivers were hostile, which they were.

"We also have an emergency message coming in from the Coruscant Security Force about quadrant 134, sector P-24. An unidentified terrorist group has attacked the Last Hope hospital in an attempt to release the captured spy we've previously reported on. Please contact the CSF on number 000 or through csf.gov to report witnessing them. At all times, stay away from these armed and dangerous terrorists. Further details are available and updated with the latest news of the development of this incident at holonetnews.com. Stay tuned for more HNN news after we play this classic by Noonta-Brev."

"I'm also still analyzing the information we have gathered", she added in her normal perky and well-articulated voice as she veered away from the lower city traffic. "It would appear that our best chance for losing them is to access the undercity, but from there it could be difficult to get to our ship. As for the NRI transmissions...", she left that off as she dived hair-raisingly below a massive hoload with a smiling female twilek's face and the message "Drink Fizzyglug Soda! It makes you happy. Fizzyglug comes in fifteen different effervescent taste sensations and non-alcoholic variants in addition to Original Fizzyglug, Zero-Gravity Fizzyglug, Diet Fizzyglug, and all children's beloved Fizzybip Special! Remember, Fizzyglug makes you happy! Available at all your local resellers and vendor droids."

The downward turn was incredibly tight and barely avoided smacking into the twilek's giant white fangs, but the car in pursuit them had a longer lead and made it easily. Ciara headed right into the opposite lane, using her superior reflexes to avoid collisions while the other car used the regular lane, losing a little on them. Unfortunately the car was also soon joined behind them by two others coming in from side lanes. Those were regular CSF security speeders, which was both a disadvantage because it made them look like criminals (which they were), and an advantage because the undercity didn't take kindly to cops. "They're mostly status updates regarding the pursuit of us. Hold tight!", she exclaimed as she dived into a huge opening at the very bottom of the city's duracrete floor. Immediately they found themselves going through a huge tunnel leading into the unknown below. It was easily large enough for the pursuing cars to follow as well. "I downloaded the city maps before we came here, but the undercity is not well documented, and hardly up to date", Ciara raised her voice to be heard over the wind pressure. "This is a sewer maintenance entrance! It will be tighter further in." Already could they see the walls closing in as she put the pedal to the metal, the speeder taking off at even more hair-raising velocity then before. They could see the frames of startled maintenance droids and equipment whizzing by as she was heading deeper into the tunnels. So far her maps and reflexes had carried them through, but if they ran into something unexpected, things could get very hairy very quickly, and they were still being chased by three police speeders.

As if on queue, Ciara took a needle turn and they ran into a smaller side tunnel closed off with warning signs and blocking durasteel bars. Their car turned briefly upside down as Ciara maneuvered them past the hindrance in a spiralling spin that would have made Baron Fel proud. Shortly after them the deafening sound of an explosion hit their ear drums and the tunnel filled with a rapidly expanding fireball consuming the remaining fuel from one or more of their pursuers. This tunnel was barely large enough for their speeder and it was getting increasingly twisting and snake-like as she outran the worst effects of the explosion but a weakened overpressure shockwave still hit them and passed, ripping the still intact windshield right off the car and almost but not quite blowing away her passengers as well. The slightly damp putrid smell of the sewer tunnel became overturned by the burnt smell of carbonized fuel in the air.

The droid whined loudly. "Oh shut up, the insurance covers it. But my hair got messed up again!"

[Crystala Endivain]

Tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear, Crystala wondered, briefly, how things reached this point as she looked back at the dark twisting tunnels they sped though. Ciara had some real piloting and driving skills, she'd give her that and they shook their pursuers so the day wasn't getting too much worse. "How much of the Undercity do you have mapped?" Crystala asked, ignoring the statement about the insurance and the hair.

"Approximately 32.8 percent, assuming the uncharted regions take up the exact same volume of space."

Crystala looked over at Loran who was downing some caff while reading a message he must have just received. Savio was on a speeder bike wanting to know where to meet up which left Crystala wondering about Saarael whom they had left at the hospital. "Tell him to meet up with us in..." she paused, looking back at Ciara to ask, "Do you know where we are going?"

Ciara nodded. "I am charting out our path from the entrance. There is a large cavern exactly two kilometers ahead of us."

"Assuming this tunnel takes us there," Crystala frowned as the speeder continued to twist and turn through the snaking tunnel. Returning her attention to Loran, she finished her statement, "At the cavern, unless he's closer to our transport shuttle. If we have someone ready to take off and do a quick pick-up, I'll take that over regrouping at the moment."

The speeder finally left the tunnel and emerged in a massive metal walled cavern that spanned for miles in all directions. Numerous pipes entrances dotted the walls, some of them spilling out a fowl coloured liquid that only enhanced the pungent smell that wrinkled her nose. They were far below the "surface" as the average person came to know the capital world, and in the distance, she could make out several figures hunched over a small fire no doubt started from whatever debris were flushed down the pipes on a secondly basis.

DEEPSACE let out a hoarse cough, a sign that the air was doing him more harm than good, especially in his current state.

"We're going to have to ditch the speeder and try to work our way back to the surface by foot," Crystala proposed, looking at the many possible paths they could take. "Unless there's an easier route?"

Ciara didn't immediately respond, she was probably calculating a route with the little geographical information she did possess to formulate the best escape route. At least time was on their side, most authorities would just pass them off for dead at this point, not even stopping to consider the grim prospect of sending search teams down here to try and apprehend them. The lowlifes and sewer rats who called this place their home were just as likely to attack the so-called "terrorists" as they were fully armed and armored men. They knew the secret passages and twisted alleyways like a smuggler knew the best space lanes.

Finally Ciara had figured out a route and increased the throttle on the speeder to account for the wider open space. Without warning, she suddenly turned the speeder again and into one of the many drain holes. "There is a 84.7 percent probability that this will take us back up inside the eighth level basement of a corporate building of Fizzyglug Soda."

Crystala could only give her a blank look, blue eyes hoping this was some sort of twisted joke. She wasn't even going to bother asking how she came up with that statistic, knowing by now that she would have done whatever calculations in her head to come up with that number. Slumping back into her seat, she suddenly noticed the odor didn't reek as it had before. It was more of a sickeningly sweet smell, the sort one might find in a candy store on Tatooine without working air conditioning. "I think you can change that to 100 percent."

"No, it's 99.9 percent. There's still the 0.1 percent probability this might lead to a waste vessel for Fizzyglug and not their corporate office."

The path continued to twist and turn before they could see light at the end of the tunnel. The speeder slowed to a crawl as to not alert anyone who might be in whatever room they were approaching. Finally they emerged through the large opening in the side wall into a fair sized room where a small channel was flowing with a dark purple liquid from the other side of a wall down past them into the entrance to the undercity. A single door was the only other feature of the room and it had to have been locked on the opposite side because there were no locks, knobs or control panels to open it on this end. The only other feature of the room was a single skeleton, laying up against the wall with several dozen empty Fizzyglug bottles strewn about him. His faded and worn clothes marked him as some employee of Fizzyglug.

"Now 100 percent?" Crystala found herself asking.

"We're here," Ciara nodded the affirmative.

[Loki Mortist]

The climb was a little longer then Mortist realized, with several times the group going up maintenence ladders and accessways. For the entire while Loran tried to keep his eyes cast downward as the ladies of the party climbed out of the car ahead of him...

'He really should give Ci Ci back his coat...'

But right now the injured deepspace needed it more to ward off shock. He hit the little R4 upside its dome to motion it to follow after... watching as it trundled up to the door by the dead man's skeleton. He was quite surprised when it's little manipulator arm extended as it searched for an access port by the sealed off doorway.

Loran didn't like skeletons- they were creepier than dead bodies to him- even ones which had been blown apart. Such things were a damnable sight to his eyes as he carried DEEPSPACE upon his injured back- after putting his own rebreather on the man.

'In his eyes all corporations had skeletons in the closet... ' his gaze traversed over towards Mr. Smiley within the Fizzyglug attire, 'er ... the waste chutes to the Undercity. Poor bastard How'd he wind up down here?

He didn't want to know what else was around here.


Could be anything from predatorious bats to strange creatures from the black lagoons of industrial and commercial wastes... the possibilities of such things were not on his list of favorite things to ponder.

Taking out his datapad he maneuvered to the wall where he sawa pipe jutting out of the structure and tapped in to to the metal superstructure boost his signal before sending a brief encrypted message to Lorn to pick them up if possible with the shuttle at the coordinates above... Hopefully that would be enough.

"Alright Director- Message sent, I don't know if it'l get through-" Loran's voice trailed off as the R4 made a whistling be boop of victory and a razz in Ci Ci's direction as the blast doors came apart in a hissing parellel motion before it trundled ahead inside- whistling cheerily for the first time as it made its way down a corridor to where a turbolift shaft used to be. A despairing cry echoed at its viewing of the sight, the entire part of the infrstructure had separated from the main walls of the building, coming up at an angle towards where it crashed through to a higher floor . A higher floor where Loran could barely seen the telltale glimmer of twinkling lights.

With a bit of looking around he figured this was the only way up for them all... "All right R4, you go first!"


With a bit of whine it's treads started to roll up the plexiglass hollow tube- with Loran following close behind with deepspace. He gulped once or twice at the view of ever stretching darkness below, gazing around to spy why the turbolift shaft was damaged. He spotted the reason about ten floors above- it looked damaged up above from a fallen 'worker' machine, a big sucker that commonly was used to make multiple city blocks. Behind him he heard the sounds of Ciara saying, "I calculate the probability of this structure still being viably safe for passage at about 85% so long as we are careful to watch ourselves there shouldn't be any trouble. "

"Thanks Ci Ci." he muttered to himself- he hated heights, almost with a passion that denied understanding, at least now he was going first... Perhaps it would be best to ensure himself that he was merely on a shopping trip with a bunch of gals. That would be a helpful delusion for the moment to distract him- Right? The guys always had to carry the bags of shopping goods, and damn Deepspace was kind of a heavy good.

'How much could one sick and dying man weigh?'

"Your welcome for the information Loki." He spun to face the two behind him.

'Damn she heard that?' he thought almost in apoplexy. If she heard that did that mean the director did as well? Only then he realized he got a full glimpse of what he had been trying to refrain from glancing at in the first place... and with great struggle he turned quickly around back towards the path ahead. Continuing to climb as he felt another wave of embarrassment.

As well as the sure knowledge the Emperor was probably going to kill him for the events of this day. At least the objective was secured ... mostly. If the poor bastard lived, and besides this wasn't the time for any more ... distractions.


When they got to the end of the makeshift walkway after a few minutes travel up the slight, but distant, incline the R4 beeped a welcome sigh of relief as it trundled towards a patch of flickering lights where another turbolift shaft should be... If he could get the overrides done , or maybe if Ci Ci or the R4 worked on the panels a little it might just be good enough to get them access to the system to send a car from the upper floors. Then they'd really see the inner guts of this 'Fizzyglug Factory.'

For some odd reason he had the strangest yearning to reassure himself from the fanciful imaginative image that it wouldn't be stocked by a race of midgets who took over from the previous crop of employees. Especially if they were of a strange aboriginal race of small orange nonhuman's named Wompa Compas which sung in every attempt to heckle to death those who visited unannounced.


To his knowledge- no such race existed. But it wouldn't be the first time such knowledge failed him. With a visible shake of his head he dragged Deepspace a little farther towards the lift doors as Crystala and Ciara caught up...

"Hey gals? Um, anyone got any equipment capable of getting a signal through all the static to the upper floors to call us a lift?"

[Ciara]

Ciara looked at R4, which turned its holographic lens toward her. "The elevator system is too old for a wireless connection. Our assigned astromech is the only one equipped with a dataspike interface that matches it", she answered and began to sort out her hair. They could also have opened the panel and basically sparked an override short, but the droid could do it by standard maintenance codes.

"Boo-wheeep."

"Also, he's saying that he is an R4-P series astromech droid, not an R4-series agromech. This is apparently important to him for reasons which I have not discerned yet."

R4-P let out a low whistle as it rolled over to the elevator and plugged in to the scomp jack, its wheels turning as the protocol was negotiated and transfer began.

"More importantly, I think I have discovered a potential way to leave Coruscant. It took twenty-two minutes and thirty-six seconds to download and correct with all the packet loss in the area."

That caught the interest of her compatriots. Crystala only glanced at her that way she did when he was analyzing something, but Loki asked directly.

"Don't mind telling us, Ci Ci."

"Apparently Fizzyglug corporation has a skyhook headquarters attached to their factory complex. Right now we're still in the lowest sections, but as you progress up through the complex it becomes more modern and lively, and the corporate leadership basically lives up in the skyhook, connected to this building with a carbonite nanofiber cable large enough to run a turbolift through it. From the top of the building, it's possible to access the lift and get to the Fizzyglug skyhook", she explained.

"Sound great, I've always wanted a tour through the Fizzyglug scrape", Loki replied, but Ciara noted from the tone in his voice that he was possibly sarcastic with a probability of 54.2%. "But how does that help us?", he asked, though his eyes flickered slightly and rapidly as they did when he was thinking deeply about something (as determined by Ciara's probability subroutine), so he was probably already analyzing what she had mentioned so far, just like Crystala. Unless they were thinking about something else, like how you could get a trinket from the Fizzyglug souvenir shop, which was something Ciara had taken a minor interest in from the moment she had learned of its existence.

"Well, the skyhook is very high up in the atmosphere, close to the beginnings of space. From the scattered pieces of information I've picked up on the comlines, the spaceport is locked down and every passenger going off-world is double checked. They're probably looking for us that way since they lost us."

"You're saying we could get up there and get off this planet?"

"Well, it's a possibility. Perhaps the resourceful Mr. S can bring in a shuttlecraft to dock with the skyhook, or perhaps we can obtain a suitable craft while in it. Communication should improve as we get higher up. Most visitors arrive and leave the skyhook by shuttle or air transport from the top landing platform. I think it's possible that Fizzyglug is important enough that it runs its own space traffic control as well. 2.4% of the traffic I receive suggests that this is the case."

The conversation ended there as R4-P whistled loudly.

"The lift is coming down", Ciara explained, in case someone in their company didn't speak binary, as unlikely as that was for people working with intelligence. She shook out her hair, finally somewhat satisfied with the results of her labour for now. It was also redundant, because they could hear the lift working. The number above the doors read 227 and the panel said they were on level 15, so it was probably going to be a short wait. Deepspace gave up a low but deep guttral noise, suddenly breaking the silence awkwardly. Ciara glanced at the man but decided against administering him further treatments for now, especially chems. Although perhaps a Fizzyglug soda would make him feel better? They should have a lot of it in this building. I wonder what it tastes like.

[Crystala Endivain]

Crystala could tell Deepspace wasn't going to last much longer in his current state so she decided to try and play a hand in keeping him alive that much longer, something she never thought she'd be trying to do as she focused on him and, with a simple thought, allowed the Force to flow through his body more in an effort to keep away shock. It was surprisingly easy as she let the Force flow through him. Colour started to return to his otherwise pale face, a healthy vigor opening his eyes up a tad more as he glanced around nervously, wondering why he was suddenly feeling better.

"Don't get too excited," Crystala warned, azure blue eyes looking at him, "I didn't anticipate this detour and I don't want you dead as a result of it."

"Who are you?" Deepspace began, unable to clear his mind which felt like it was covered in a dense fog.

Crystala held up a hand to silence him moments before the lift arrived. "You'll get your answers when we're off this world."

"But-" He tried to speak but a finger was put against his lips.

"Save your strength." Everyone entered the lift and as the doors closed, Crystala asked aloud, "I don't suppose there's a way to ensure we don't get stopped along the way?"

"The lift is monitored and I deduce a 90.3 percent probability that any attempt to override the controls will be detected by Fizzyglug security." Ciara was fast with those calculations, though that didn't really surprise anyone, it was expected by now.

Crystala glanced over at the woman. "So, what's the probability that the lift is going to stop at least once between here and the skyhook on a floor other than the one we're on with people wanting to get on?"

A moment passed. "88.7 percent."

Either way, it seemed like a certainty they would be discovered. The thought crossed her mind to try and feign the urgent need to keep anyone else out of the lift in an effort to rush to the top but that was doubtful. Another possibility crossed her mind. "What's the chance anyone in this building knows about the whole affair at the hospital in the past fifteen minutes?"

Ciara thought for a moment. The news would have been broadcast to the public, but, only to those paying attention and even then, only to the mainstream people tuning in. The overworked employees of Fizzyglug would be too busy mass producing the sweet beverage, counting their credits, coming up with stupid ad campaigns and watching their product be consumed by the masses to pay much heed to the news at some hospital, save for the need to know if any of their vending machines needed to be replaced or restocked. "I would estimate 10 percent of the total working staff would be aware of the news."

The lift started to raise up and Crystala decided to take her chances with stopping at whatever floors they were called to. The lift was fairly spacious, enough so that, even with the R4, they only took up a little less than half the total space, more than enough for another group of people to walk in an ride with. As the ticker displayed the increasing level of floors, Crystala shifted herself enough to be close to the door in the event it opened. "Whatever you all do, act casual..."

I just pray Ciara knows what 'casual' means.

---

"By the Force, how can you drink that stuff Phil?"

Phil drank half the bottle of fizzyglug before lowering the bottle from his mouth and looking at his friend Harry. "It's good stuff!" he said passionately.

"You obviously don't know what they put in it do you?" Harry stuck out his tongue in disgust. "I swear, this is the worst job we've ever had..." Both men were wearing the sickly lime-green jumpsuits, standard for most Fizzyglug employees who worked the production machines and bottlers. "Seriously, what with the Hutt slime, Bantha poo-doo, Rodian gunk, Twi'lek sweat-"

"Nice try," Phil smirked, bringing the bottle back up for another swig. "I don't care if they put pureed Emperor's black bones in it, it still tastes damn good!" A soft ping sound could be heard and the lift doors in front of them hissed open. Already occupying the lift was a woman, wearing some sort of security guard outfit, an astromech droid and three other people, two men and another woman, all three of them in the same, disguising lime-green jumpsuits. "Oh, hello," Phil smiled at the others as he and his friend stepped aboard. "Floor three hundred and fifty-five please?"

Harry noticed the floor already hit, a level that would take them up to the skyhook. He whistled. "Well, aren't we all fancy pants, not wearing fancy pants? What brings you folks up to the 'hook?"

---

Crystala glanced at her passengers before looking back at the two new arrivals. The illusion she had created seemed to have worked, they weren't exactly paying Ciara more notice in her fake jumpsuit than they probably would be at her otherwise unclothed figure. "Senior staff wants a word with them," she lied.

"Damn, you hear that Harry?" the man with the brown hair nudged his friend in the ribs with his elbow. "I've never seen them before in my life and already they're talking to the big big-wigs while we've put in two years and we're only seeing middle management!"

Crystala smirked. "Don't be too jealous."

The one called Harry shook his head. "See Phil, the rumors were true, you only ever see the folks on the 'hook if you've done something really awful. My condolences to you." He saluted the group as if they were off to face the firing squad.

Ciara gestured to the half-drank bottle of Fizzyglug in Phil's hand and asked if she could have it.

"Why don't you get one from the vending machine?" Phil pulled the bottle away, acting overly protective of it.

Harry nudged his friend again in the ribs and whispered in his friend's ear. "Man, just give it to her. Maybe you can score a date!"

A gleam appeared in Phil's eyes as he suddenly had a change of heart and offered the half drank bottle to the woman. "Sure, I don't see why not. After all, gives me a reason to fetch another one." That remark got a roll of the eyes from his friend but Phil was too fixated on Ciara to care at this point, wondering if his friend was right. "So... uh... what are you doing later today?"

Now it was Crystala's turn to roll her eyes, but she did so after turning away to check how far they had advanced. Keeping up the illusion was getting tiring though she was getting better at maintaining it for longer periods and, thankfully, Ciara wasn't clumsy enough to actually spill any Fizzyglug on her fake clothes to wreck the illusion.

Ciara took a sip of the soda and hesitated for a moment, letting the liquid swish around in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. Suddenly, she looked at Loran and Crystala and said, "Heuristic algorithm analysis require each problem to be defined in a multidimensional array of variables. Each complex decision parameter resolves n-degree polynomials. Thus, I like Fizzyglug." She paused for a moment before adding, "And chocolate."

The lift stopped at the 355th level, the doors opening suddenly, allowing two, very dumbfounded workers at Fizzyglug to wonder what the hell they just heard. The doors closed shut behind them before Phil realized he didn't get an answer from the woman regarding a date or anything. "No!" he cried as he spun around and desperately tapped the up button in a failed effort to recall the lift. "Damnit... Next time I see that girl, chocolate."

"Let it go Phil," Harry moaned, "Let it go."

[Saarael Tiberius]

Roving the skylanes in the stolen Coruscant Security Force airspeeder, Saarael took every advantage he could get from his suddenly official position. Listening in on the comm traffic, it sounded as if the terrorists had descended into the undercity, and were being pursued through that excessively labyrinthine maze mostly by droids, as few living officers wanted to risk being seen down there in uniform or otherwise.

Scanning through the comm channels, he managed to pick up a chance snippet from the Fizzyglug security force about discovering an abandoned speeder outside of one of their entrances which had reported being opened unexpectedly shortly before. Checking in to where he was and where the Fizzyglug corporate offices were, he was luckily still in the same area as them, and it seemed a likely possibility that it was just the speeder he was looking for, as it had no inhabitants and looked new, according to the traffic he was hearing.

Swooping down into the skylane leading in the direction of their factory and offices, Saarael activated the lights and siren of the airspeeder and accelerated far beyond the legal limits as he headed in the direction of the Fizzyglug factory. Luckily enough, he was the closest unit when a call came over the comm, "All units, all units, we have a call from the Fizzyglug corporate offices for the nearest unit to check out a speeder they found. They say it may be stolen."

Activating the comm unit, Saarael put on as much of an upper-class Coruscanti accent as he could manage from having heard it much of his life living on this planet and responded, "Dispatch, this is, CSF2407 responding. Will advise on sitrep on arrival." Luckily for him, the identification number for this particular unit was plastered all over - assuming that it was indeed the unit number. If it wasn't, he was in deep trouble, but that was something to worry about only if it happened. "Roger 2407. Backup is avaliable if you need it within 10 minutes."

Pulling into the parking levels of the factory, Saarael jumped out of the airspeeder and walked over to the doors to the facility, speaking into his portable comm set as he went. "Dispatch, 2407 is on-site. This looks like nothing special. I'll go check out the speeder, but it's probably just some kids dumping it off." Opening the door and stepping through it, he was met by two men, one who looked like a mid-level manager and the other who was definitely a member of their security force.

"Oh good, you're here!" Shouted the manager, "It normally takes the CSF forever to respond to any calls we have. This is Sergeant Schmuzz, he'll show you the speeder. I'm Abron West, foreman of the plant. If you've got any questions the Sergeant can get a hold of me."

Extending his hand to the two, Saarael shook hands with both of them, "I'm Sergeant Shivvy. I'll go down and take a look at the speeder and see if it matches any of the ones we have listed as stolen. Do you have any security cameras that would have picked up when it got there?"

"No, we don't have any external cameras at that level" Answered Schmuzz, "it's deep enough in the undercity that anything we tried to put out there would be destroyed or stolen, or both. In the end the management decided it wasn't worth it to keep installing security cameras on a door nobody uses or knows exists."

Saarael chuckled at that, "Makes sense to me. In any case, it would help so we would at least know how long it's been there, since as you say it's a door you guys don't use." The two men started off to the turbolift to head down to the level where the shuttle was, which increasingly sounded like something that may have been dumped there by his teammates. "Schmuzz, give me a holler if he knows anything!" shouted Abron from behind them as he undoubtedly went back to work on whatever he had been doing before this all had interrupted his day.

Stepping into the lift, the security officer pushed a button for what appeared to be among the lowest of levels this lift went to, and it wooshed its way down quickly enough to the bowels of the plant. Once there, the two walked out and into a room that smelled strongly of the sweet drink produced here and walked down a walkway between two large tanks that were presumably filled with fizzyglug, before heading down a set of stairs to the floor of the room and over to a ubiquitous door in the corner. When they reached it, Sergeant Schmuzz opened it without fanfare and announced, "Here it is." as the door swung open, revealing what looked to be brand new high-end airspeeder. Whistling at the sight, Saarael turned to the other man, "That's definitly out of place here. I'll call in the description when I get back to my speeder so they can send a unit to pick it up and take it to the impound yard. You say this door reported being opened recently, which is what let your security teams come out here and discover the speeder - do the security cameras in there work?" He asked, jerking his thumb back toward the room just inside the door they had come through.

"Yeah, those ones work. I suppose we should have thought to check them to see if anybody came in to the facility." Schmuzz answered as he turned around and using a discrete keypad, put in a code which opened the door for them to return to the inside of the facility. Well it would only stand to reason that if you have a potential breach of security, you check your security cameras of the affected area to see if anything strange shows up. Saarael mused as they walked back in, and headed into the lift again to go up several levels to a security station with a myraid of security camera displays along the wall. Pointing to a particular bank of them, Schmuzz walked up to the control station and said, "These ones here go to that level, so they'd be the best ones to start with." Pulling out the keyboard he tapped in some commands and then pointed down to it, "The controls are pretty simple, so you can spool through those cameras for about 15 minutes on either side of where I've got it set to see if there is anything. I'm going to go into the hall for a second and call Abron to let him know what's going on so far."

As the man stepped out into the hall and the door wooshed closed behind him, Saarael quickly set to the task of looking through the security footage, soon finding the only anomaly from any of it - a group of people walking through the door at the same time the door was supposed to have opened who matched the descriptions of his teammates exactly, plus one more who was definitely not in good condition. I'm going to assume that's DEEPSPACE, which means the mission is going mostly as planned. Grabbing his comlink he made sure it was set to call dispatch and said, "Dispatch, this is 2407 at the Fizzyglug plant, nothing out of the ordinary going on here. I'm pretty sure it's just a stolen airspeeder, so I'll put it in to the system when I get back to my unit and you can send a team to pick it up and take it to impound later on today. I'll have to go check it out again to file the report, so you can hold off on sending them." to which the response was simply "Copy that 2407. As soon as you're done there head on over to the hospital to act as security for if the terrorists come back or anything else happens." Oh, nothing else should be happening there, I'll bet on that. he thought as he said "Roger that."

About that time, Sergeant Schmuzz came back into the room and asked inquiringly, "Find anything?" Putting on as serious a tone as possible, Saarael pointed at the freeze-frame image on the screen, "This looks like the terrorists who escaped from the hospital." and as the other man gasped in surprise and horror he continued, "I've already put in a call to the CSF headquarters and they're scrambling forces to lock down the area and there will be a team to sweep the building. In the meantime, I need you to shut off all communications from this facility."

"I don't have authority to do that!" The security officer exclaimed with dismay, "You would have to talk with the people at corporate to get authorization for that." and Saarael countered simply with "They do not have any explosives with them and that man there," he said while pointing at DEEPSPACE, "looks like a hostage. I think they have connections with someone high-up at Fizzyglug and are hoping to use your broadcast capabilities from the advertising department to put out a ransom for him. They may even be coming back here for further orders. No one at Fizzyglug must know that they are here - let the CSF handle it."

Nodding mutely, the man was overwhelmed by the sudden amount of information and questions being thrown at him at this moment, "How many security personnel do you have on staff right now? Where did this turbolift go after they got on it from their entry level?" interrogated Saarael, to which Schmuzz meekly replied, "I've got 20 officers on duty...15 down here and 5 up on the skyhook. The turbolift log is over here." He said, backing away from Saarael to pull up a record on the screen next to the security cameras, "It looks like they told it to go into the skyhook, and it stopped once at another level. Should we check that level out?"

"Gather your security teams at all of the turbolifts which continue up to the skyhook at the top level in this facility and stop them all if they try to pass through that level to check them, but don't shut them off. Don't bother checking the other level where the turbolift opened - they're not going to be there. I'll head up to the skyhook to check it out and let the CSF forces know what's going on up there. Do you understand?"

Stammering slightly, Sergeant Schmuzz nodded and said a weak "Yes." while he called all of the security personnel on duty to the locations Saarael had indicated. "If you find the terrorists, shoot to stun, and call me and I will deal with them and let the CSF forces know."

Walking back out of the surveilance room and into the corridor, Saarael asked one more thing, "Where is the nearest turbolift that goes to the skyhook?" and Schmuzz pointed to the one they had just come out of. Turning around once again, he stepped toward it, and just before getting in gave his comm number to Schmuzz for him to call if anything happened, which it certainly wouldn't. "Remember - absolutely no outside comms allowed for if they're trying to make a broadcast, and don't let anyone know you know what's going on. Leave the counter-terrorist stuff to the professionals."

Stepping into the turbolift, Saarael pushed the button for it to ascend to the skyhook and then wondered what his next step would have to be. Surely the team were heading to the skyhook in the hope that there would be a spacecraft there they could easily commandeer to escape, which he was almost completely sure would be the case as much of the purpose of skyhooks was so important executives did not have to deal with the usual notorious Coruscant customs inspections at all of the spaceports. And if that's the case, we should be able to slip out from here without a hitch, and the CSF will be none the wiser until they try to contact me and discover I'm not reachable, or Schmuzz panics and calls them in. Either way, it will be far too late. The only other important factor is meeting up with them on the skyhook without blowing my cover if I don't have to.

[Loki Mortist]

During the entire ride up the lift , Loran felt like holding his breath. Especially after something in his head felt funny and the groups clothing ensemble seemed to alter in his view. This was good thing in his eyes, it might make them less suspicious. Why it was happening he didn't know, but his mind was logical enough to work out the steps that something odd and out of the ordinary was happening. Factoring his past interactions with the esteemed Director , he could only imagine it was her doing. Now all he had to do was try to hack into the security net to deactivate the camera's... a task which was then made impossible when they were all suddenly interrupted by two fizzyglug employees of which one, thought Ci Ci was a 'looker'.

Damn, he could just here the Emperor now- "you go to Coruscant- with a team of agents, and then find out what?"

"... I like fizzyglug... and chocolate."

Add in the 'fiddlesticks' and all the other terminology she might have picked up on today and Loran could practically see the gallows being erected to hang them all... well- the director and subdirector might get away scot free. It was always the lower peons who were to blame in such things- the ones sent out to be roasted on the spit of a superior's ire. Speaking of the Director- Loran couldn't help but notice she was looking a little pale- probably whatever it was that was allowing her to do ...whatever it was that she was doing was taxing her abilities.

And damn this burbling patient across his back was getting heavy. He didn't have any stimulants on hand that Ci Ci might still have in her purse, but he did have the complimentary nutrient paste that people always seemed to take on a mission.

With one hand bracing Deepspace against the wall, and his hip he reached into his suit pocket to pull one out, quickly donning about half the liquidly paste silently passing it over , completely remiss at the antics playing before them both and seeing her take it in hand. From past experience he knew the Director had exhibited some extraordinary abilities in his presence before, but with the two interfering blokes coming aboard Mortist couldn't risk talking to her out loud.

But thinking to himself, repeating it like a mantra in his mind, reminding himself of the basic tenant- 'Leave no trace'. He kept reminding himself to keep to tradecraft, making a mental checklist to himself 'Whatever occurs... he knew they couldn't leave anything behind... not a spent nutrient tube , a bit of soiled cloth, or even a bottle of fizzyglug.'

No evidence left behind- if he could he'd have even destroyed the airspeeder- preferring to burn it all in starfire or a proper receptacle to remove all bits of dna evidence. God- he just hoped when he got high enough he might send a signal to flood the hell out the hospital's computer systems with viruses, including the security footage databanks.

That's why he planted the device where he did-tapped into everything...

But he'd have to wait until they were above the 400th floor to risk a burst transmission into the holonet. It was important on a mission to stay focused, sometimes a brief bit of respite might help them all before they made the final push. When the two corporate workers left... he stood still watching the rising numbers of the floors, quickly linking his datapad to his smartchrono.

Time seemed to pass so slowly for Mortist now. It was like a sense of fatigue and exhaustion was carried into his posture. What was even more annoying to his senses than the antics of the two corporate lackeys leaving, was the damn elevator music cutting off to start playing an advertisement.

"Welcome to fizzyglug Headquarters, home of your favorite soft drink. Remember- we offer special discounts for parties upon the planetary level for all your governorship needs. With a wide range of products from the original fizzyglug, to our new flavors of Cherry Sklug, and Poison Fruit Passion to our deals with our corporate affiliates of Walina wineries finest liquors: Why buy from anyone else?

We at fizzyglug are here to service all your hosting needs. If you'd like to use our gubernatorial services please contact our corporate representative at the holoaddress #8965314-897345131-JL1CORUSFRB251 Keyword-planetarysales today. You won't be disappointed, and you're guests will be delighted- for far less credits then they might ever know. So call us : Today."Warning: fizzyglug and their associsted products may not be suitable for all species, keep out reach of children, and inquire for warnings on product labels. If pregnant or nursing consult a dietary physician for crosschecking purposes. The original Fizzyglug formula has been known in Tiraxians to promote a colorectal cancer within their race after repeated use. As always, please drink responsibly. Fizzyglug Corporation thanks you.


'By the force it was like listening to nails on a chalkboard.'

When the numbers ticked 399,400,401, he pressed the button to activate the remote hololink connection just long enough to spike the command through...

***

AT THE LAST HOPE HOSPITAL, an NRI agent name Johann Gutremund sat furiously typing into the mainframes, attempting to gain access. It had taken them longer then necessary to enter the security control room... he was just now starting to access key systems as the boss' were furiously wanting any bits of data on the perpetrators.

Deep below his feet, in the entagled skeins of wiring a small golden skulls eyes, began to flash red as a torrent of viruses were unleashed like a title wave into the hospital's intranet. Destroying patient records, gobbling and hacking away all bits of data in the secured systems... most of the patients records would be restored from backups of the previous days events. Things kept on hard encoded drives, like laboratory results, with patient id's coded onto their respective datachits labels would be recovered. Most personal information would be able to be pieced back together as well.

But the viruses were insidious, launching, replicating, adding .dos files to side terminal's stations long enough that the systems currently acting firewalls passed them with their heirarchy scanners before jumping right back into the thick of the mainframe. In fact- it would be akin to the analogy of a thousand tiny insects , digging into a person's skin to lay eggs, which hatched thousands of progeny which traveled along the digital lines of light, and hardwired nexus points that connected hardware, and software.

In the end- the mites found the tastiest target of - deleting and crippling the hospital system's OS Command Kernel. The place where the security logs were formed, all in a display of flashing warning signs which reflected in Gutremand's irises as in front of him all chance of placating his superior's anxiety went up in a cyber inflicted fire sale.

In the end- the skulls eyes, flashed twice red once more before a small speaker inside forced it to laugh. It was a bit of added amusement on the designer's behalf before an electrical charge, derezzed its memory core. With that bit of its programming done a small N4 charge within was sparked, blowing it to bits in a small explosion...

***

Back at Fizzyglug...

Loran noticed the numbers now were nearing the top sections of the floors for corporate officers before , with Loran noticing Ciara finish the bottle of Fizzyglug, and throw it over her shoulder. With a sigh, Loran picked it up and secured it in a pocket before shifting Deepspace back to his shoulders.

As far as he was concerned: they were all ready to move- just a few more floors to go till this little elevator ride was completed. He just wondered if things were going to get any stranger here today; then he noticed that Ciara was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Did she detect what he was doing?

God- he hoped not: he certainly didn't want the kid's shell fried by any viral backlashes...
With one hand still typing he sent a false request to the car dealership, the next thing he would have to do was to delet Ciara's lisence from their registries. Something made even more difficult by the fact that as the team ventured higher, bits of lapses in the comsystem of the corporation were starting to be seen. If he hadn't had the remote link- he'd never have gotten the first dataspike out at all.

"What are you doing Mr. Drebin?" came a soprano voice in his direction as the last few floors were traversed.

"Trying yet failing to ensure your lisence was deleted from the car dealership- their's too much static in the connecting net to get into their system fast enough. Well- at least for me in the current state I'm in- it's getting hard to think fast enough to rotate the connection frequencies to compensate for what looks to be some sort of interference."

"I see..." came the nonchalant reply, a pause and an answer came from the kid, how Loran didn't know- probably that telepresent ability she had to connect with anything remotely... "I currently am seeing a state of lockdown on this building's communication systems being put into effect. I can compensate for the task you suggest or deviate my attention to try and stop this phenomenon. My analysis programs believe this is 93.28 plus or minus five percent that this is indicative of some sentient element to already be in play. We may already have been discovered... "

"Do whatever you think is best Ciara- if you got a third option take that. We can always backhack the files once off planet from the outer edge of the system if we do it remotely after we find transport." Loran paused and cleared his throat. "Or if the Director later decides to activate a intelligence cell member later to clean up the mess."

[Crystala Endivain]

Why do I get the sense of impending doom? Crystala could sense people scrambling all through the skyhook, no doubt in preparation to take them down by whatever means necessary. The Force illusion had worked against the workers from preemptively raising the alarm, but it was a more or less wasted gesture if everyone was preparing to strike them down as soon as they left the lift. Of course, it was hard to figure out how many were actually people intent on hunting them down opposed to normal workers fleeing the area under the direction of the security forces there.

"I fear you're right. We're going to have to try a shift in tactics." She nodded with her head at DEEPSPACE. "And he's going to be our ticket out of here..." She focused the Force into forming a small, slender dagger in her hand which she handed to Loran. "Keep that against his throat."

DEEPSPACE opened his mouth, about to voice a protest but a cough escaped instead as the phlegm was nudged closer to his throat by an unseen hand. The lift was slowing and Crystala didn't have time to try and work out his objection to being used a human shield of sorts.

The lift finally came to a stop and the doors started to hiss open. Loran held the knife against DEEPSPACE's throat, his other arm around the man's lower neck. Crystala saw five uniformed officers in the wide open expanse beyond them, all of them training blasters at the door to the lift. Only five?

"More of the lifts are being activated," Ciara had lowered her voice so only the party in the lift could hear, "I'm detecting enemy reinforcements due to arrive. ETA, two minutes."

"So they're only meant to try and stall us," Crystala mused, red eyes narrowing as she slammed her hand against the emergency stop button on the lift before using the Force to trigger a nearby fire pull. Alarms started to ring all over the skyhook, the other lifts suddenly shutting down, for safety reasons, blocking off all access to the facility from the surface of the planet below. Droids and security personnel would disable the alarms and get things running once again, but it bought the team valuable time as Crystala walked out of the lift, fixing a stern glare that tore through the soul of the most senior security guard training his blaster at her.

"Arms in the air, all of you! Release the hostage and surrender yourselves!" the lead guard shouted over the wailing sirens.

'Stay close to me,' Crystala projected to Loran, 'And keep a firm hold on DEEPSPACE.'

Glancing around, she felt slightly relieved that they'd be able to get to a ship shortly, but the five guards were blocking all access routes, having formed a semi-circle to keep them penned in. They wouldn't have much of a clear shot against Loran so long as he used DEEPSPACE as a shield.

"Stay right where you are! We will open fire!" the lead guard yelled, still trying to stall though a slight apprehension edging in his voice as he was well enough aware that reinforcements would be delayed. Still, the landing pads would be the next avenue to funnel reinforcements in so Crystala had to work quickly. "Drop your knife and release the hostage!"

Without warning, Crystala pushed her arms out away from her, sending a ripple through the Force that swept past all five guards, knocking them all back as if they had each been thrown like cheap datapads. With her telekinesis, she sent all five of the dropped blasters towards her group, catching two herself and letting Ciara take another two, and Loran the remaining one which he caught in the hand whose arm was firmly around DEEPSACE's neck. The guards slowly started to get up, one of them going for a stun baton. He caught a stun shot for his troubles as Crystala pulled back on the trigger. "Let's get a ship, fast."

[Ciara]

"Eliminating hostiles priority before securing transport necessary to achieve primary objective. Parameter: non-lethal violence. Executing", Ciara declared very seriously moments before dashing towards the guards with tremenous speed and acceleration. At the same time as she was closing in on their position, she changed the setting on both her new blaster pistols to stun with an impressive display of ambidextrous legerdemain. They barely had time to react and squeeze off a couple shots before she jumped, somersaulted, and landed on two of the guards with one foot on either unfortunate neck with exactly the calculated amount of force necessary to incapacitate them both, with safety margin, and she fired her guns straight out to the sides, hitting another two with close range stun blasts. She rolled forward as she landed and kicked upward with her right foot, landing a blow on the last security officer's jaw, knocking him out cold.

"Sub-objective cleared. Reinforcements confirmed enroute. Return to original mission parameters. Closest transport platform lift located in north-eastern section", she proclaimed as she got up to full standing, completing her roll. "Suggest leaving premises before rearguard delay becomes necessary. Copy?"

"Copy", Crystala answered with eyes shifting color in response to Ciara's change of wording and sentence construction. They couldn't know that it was indicative of her combat programming kicking in, but the fact that there was a difference was obvious enough.

Ciara re-joined the small team and they left the room only to hear muffled sounds behind them giving away the entrance of more security forces. "Analysis: welding door inadequate time-effective delay action", she said and turned around, striking the control panel with her fist and enough power to utterly crush the metal along with the electronics under it. Military blast doors had more or less independent systems on both sides, but the same wasn't necessarily the case for an office door. After their pursuers had given up on the door, they would probably have go another route, unlike stormtroopers who would have blasted straight through.

"Intercepting forces on both flanks, approaching quickly", she stated, although knowing that Crystala could probably sense them already. "Their energy readings indicate heavier weaponry", she added. Lo and behold, more security guards and droids appeared from the side corridors. They fired a few potshots and most of the organic guards ducked into cover. Thanks to the warning, the small NIF team was already prepared for it, but their presence proved that they had figured out where the 'terrorists' were heading. "Present situation untenable. Suggest priority elimination of enemy flechette launcher and riflemen. Breakthrough necessary to achieve primary objective. Requesting parameter: lethal violence. Copy?", Ciara stated between ducking and firing her stun blasters.