Kanan Jarrus, The Last Padawan (
uncertain_dume) wrote2017-09-07 07:33 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
An Empire Outpost in the Bryx Sector, A Galaxy Far, Far Away, Thursday Evening
It was supposed to be a milk run. In and out, no problem. Hera's sources had tipped her in on the location of a large shipment of bacta and other assorted medical supplies, which they were to come in, pick up, and then drop off on Wobani for a group of escapees from one of the Empire's labor camps. Hera would drop Kanan off, he'd make his way in on foot to secure the payload, and within an hour or two, the cargo would be on the ship, on the way to a group of people who could make far better use of it than the Imps could.
In theory. And Kanan had even managed to make it most of the way in, taking out a small trooper patrol and then helping himself to some of their gear. It was much easier to get in and out of an Empire's loading area when you were dressed for success, after all.
He... hadn't been banking on there being only one crate of cargo in the warehouse.
He extra hadn't been banking on it being accompanied by a half-dozen Rodians wearing shock collars, also awaiting transport to somewhere most certainly unpleasant.
After a quick, hushed conversation with the nervous captives, Kanan sighed and reached for his comm.
"Hey, Hera? How many people can we comfortably fit on the Ghost, anyway?"
[OOC: For she what is piloting the getaway vehicle!]
In theory. And Kanan had even managed to make it most of the way in, taking out a small trooper patrol and then helping himself to some of their gear. It was much easier to get in and out of an Empire's loading area when you were dressed for success, after all.
He... hadn't been banking on there being only one crate of cargo in the warehouse.
He extra hadn't been banking on it being accompanied by a half-dozen Rodians wearing shock collars, also awaiting transport to somewhere most certainly unpleasant.
After a quick, hushed conversation with the nervous captives, Kanan sighed and reached for his comm.
"Hey, Hera? How many people can we comfortably fit on the Ghost, anyway?"
[OOC: For she what is piloting the getaway vehicle!]
no subject
This was not good.
no subject
That did explain Kanan's bad feeling, at least. His brow furrowed as a swarm of TIE fighters started pouring out of what was essentially a city fortress and a flying promise of death all in one.
"Okay, new plan. Hera, let me handle the shooting, you just do what you do best!"
no subject
"On it!" She spun and dove, trying to get as much distance as possible. "Don't think it's related to us, just bad timing," she added. Not that it mattered that much at the moment, but it was at least some consolation.
no subject
no subject
Formations existed for a reason.
no subject
"Okay, and what about those guys?"
He paused in his shooting just long enough to yank the helmet off his head and toss it out of his way, and then jumped back into the game by taking out another fighter as the Rodian in the other turret took out two more when they made a pass overhead.
no subject
She dodged a few that were staying in formation, spiraled to give both her gunners a chance at them, and dove.
no subject
Not that he didn't think Hera already knew that, but--
Kanan hissed between his teeth at a string of cursing coming from their other turret after another sweep from the TIEs, and then a hollered report that one of his guns was down and he was down to half capacity.
no subject
Chopper blatted an annoyed sound, but went to work on it. Meanwhile, Hera increased the shields to the front and did a spiral roll that ended with heading decidedly away from the destroyer - and straight through a bank of TIEs.
no subject
Many, Kanan. Many.
no subject
"Too many!" she shot back.
She did a quick check. "There's a storm over the northeastern continent. If we can get into the clouds, we stand a good chance of losing them." Especially if the TIEs were as shoddily maintained as they were shielded. Hey, she could hope.
"Hold on back there," she said through the intercom. "It may get a bit bumpy."
no subject
He was answered by four Rodians all yelling over one another as they attempted to secure the crate, the fifth yelling about more fighters incoming. Just what they needed, really.
no subject
She could do it, though. She doubted the Imperial pilots could.
no subject
Hell, he was tempted to start reciting the code, himself. One of the TIEs managed to get a lucky shot in, and Kanan regretted removing his stolen helmet as a rain of sparks flew up from his controls. He swore under his breath.
"Hera, I've lost my guns," and now he was sliding back down the ladder, hanging on to the rungs for dear life. "Chopper, how are you doing with that other one?"
no subject
"Sixty percent back on that gun; looks like that's all we'll have until we land. Chopper, get on the other one!"
Hera flew deeper into the storm. One of the TIEs hit a rough patch, dropped abruptly, and snapped a vane, limping down to avoid a crash; two others peeled off.
no subject
The Rodian threw off a quick salute before giving up his seat to Kanan.
"So, what's the plan from here, Hera? They're gonna know to look for us leaving the storm, and we can't stay in here forever."
no subject
Which she was doing now. As fast as she could.
no subject
And he was the guy who had once told her to drive like a pilot possessed in a ship loaded with baradium explosives while he ranted about murdering everyone sharing their airspace on an open comm channel, just to stick it to the Empire.
no subject
no subject
Just in time for him to take his seat at the gun. Of course.
"Want me to stay up here to be sure, or do you want me down there checking those readouts for Imperials?"
no subject
Well, it kind of was. But only kind of.
no subject
Back down he went, rushing to the cockpit to join Hera and settling into the copilot's seat.
"You can pretty much guarantee somebody up there is going to be thinking the same thing we are, you know. They're probably scanning for us, too."
And they were in much better shape, up there.
no subject
no subject
For some people it might be a problem. But guiding a large ship into a narrow canyon during a hellish storm seemed like just the sort of challenge Hera might appreciate.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)