Supplies Check

On the surface of it, this section of Coronet City was for the most the domain of those who worked here, warehouses sitting by factories and other light and heavy industrial establishments. But it belonged also to the rebels, or the freedom fighters as they called themselves, their support coming mainly from the lower class workers of the system as well as those who were in the shipping and shipbuilding industry, one of the most pivotal for Corellia.

Although it was the holiday period, the warehouse was busy with activity, trucks and hovercraft coming to drop off and collect the various crates stored here. And Alder kept watch over it all, making sure that nothing went amiss and more importantly that the Empire was given no clue as to what was going on here. They grey-haired man wore a dark tunic, its lower-hem just above his knees, and hanging off it was his holster. "As you can see, Ambassador, we have been sharing our supplies and have not been hoarding it. But as I said before, we will not share with those that we do not feel are serious groups or are little more than criminals."

Watching a cargo droid hauling a lift-full of crates whiz on by, Ambrosia nods appraisingly, brows aloft. "They are your supplies to use at your discretion, sir. I, for one, am rather glad to hear that your stipulations for supply swaps are so particular. It would not do well for Corellia's fight for self-control to fall, well, out of control." Passing him an easy smile, she taps her fingers together behind her back and takes another long look around.

Alder does not answer, although a nod is offered, his head bobbing down before being raised although the gesture is so subtle as to be nearly imperceptible. "What do you think of our effort at liberation, do you think it will succeed given how important this world is to the Empire? And I would ask for as blunt an opinion as you can, sugarcoating would do neither of us a favour." His eyes, until now focused on the cargo being on and offloaded, shift to gaze at the diplomat, weighing her almost even as he awaits an answer.

"It won't be easy." The ambassador answers, smile fading to mirror his sobriety. She stares back evenly. "But it is possible. We've assisted far less technologically-adept peoples seeking liberation on backwater planets. It is as you said - the Empire has a lot to gain, or lose, from this planet, and will not be dissuaded easily. Your success will depend on the willingness of Corellians to unite, and on your tactical abilities. There will be war, there will be heavy losses." Down turning her gaze, she takes a deep breath and sweeps a bit of hair from her cheek. "If I thought there was a chance that negotiations with the Empire would be successful, I would volunteer happily to speak on Corellia's behalf, but after witnessing the decades of tyranny, I know as well as you, that words will not solve your rather captive state."

A gentle smile breaks the tension in her face for a moment. "Perhaps not very reassuring words from a diplomat, but I believe that military coordination will be the key to your success. After all, sir, it was a tiny rebellion that first rattled the Empire's cage, and that rebellion has since grown into a successful Republic."

"You may wonder my usefulness then, if I don't believe the power of diplomacy may win your freedom."

"I was a former CorSec officer, back when it meant Corellian Security and when it stood for just that rather than keeping the Empire's law. I was fired when I wouldn't serve an arrest warrant that had been made by the Empire's occupational forces.", the man began to say quietly at first although with increasing emotion, "You do not need to explain to me that my people's freedom for the Empire can only be won after every trace of the Empire's occupation of our system is wiped clean." Alder took a brief pause to look at a hovercraft that was just now entering the warehouse, its markings linking it to one of the three groups that had met with Ambrosia at the baker's shop. "Where do you hail from Ambassador, what brought you to join the Republic?"

Ambrosia follows his eyes to the hovercraft. "I hail from a variety of places," She answers cryptically. "But my first many years were spent as a ... servant to the Empire, in one form or another. I made my escape at a hefty price, had heard of this 'rebellion' and thought that I would seek it out. Some years later, I met Ambassador Dean Corso. The rest is history." Spreading her palms candidly, she shrugs a shoulder. "For quite some time, I had a home here, on Corellia. Maybe the building still stands, on the beaches, maybe not. I hope that one day, my daughter can visit the home world of her father without having to pass through Imperial customs."

"Presumably you have been with the Republic for many years now.", Alder asks, he does not hesitate so much as he takes a pause to choose his next words carefully. The matter of some import apparently as he does not meet the Ambassador's gaze as he speaks, "So I would like your thoughts on something. Provided that the Empire loses on Corellia and one way or another your Republic is able to reclaim a large part of its former territory if not all of it. What do you think should be done, can the two governments ever coexist or do you favour fighting the Empire until it no longer holds so much as a single world?"

"Hmph," Ambrosia nods, folding her arms across her midsection, watching/listening to Alder. "The Republic strives to be a beacon of hope - it is our hope that every world has the freedom to choose their government. It is by our sheer definition, our identity that we take action against any government which gathers citizens through force and fear, rather than democracy and freedoms to choose. It is that same ideal of freedom that prevents us from forcing planets to reject the Empire. They must come to us by choice. But, for so long as one sentient remains persecuted at the hands of the Empire, we will continue to do battle. One emancipation at a time."

"And will you work to draw Corellia into your Republic if and when we do kick the Empire off the world and its other postings across the system? Or at least work to try and influence us." the man asks as he looks at one of the warehouse's doorway, the large entrance beginning to roll up of its own. There was, however, no trucks waiting to be let in or let out in that section of the warehouse, and Alder frowned. "This place is just too old, faulty wiring everywhere....Close that thing before someone looks in." he shouts to one of the workers closest to the door.

"I'd be a poor politician if I didn't make at least a small sales pitch," Ambrosia quips, folding her arms across her chest and watching the self-possessed door closely. When no one comes through it, she dips a brow of concern. "I can somewhat empathize. I've got a protocol droid of mine that I attempted to rewire myself...been nothing but obnoxious since."

The worker that had been tasked by Alder quickly walks over to the opened entrance, intent on fiddling with the panel that controls it from a nearby sidewall. The non-descript, red-shirted man is suddenly violently propelled up and backwards by the sudden projectile that slams into the ground metres ahead of him. The force of the explosion is such that a small crater is left where the missile struck, nearby windows blown by the resulting shockwave.

Alder nodded in response, "As long as it is just a sales..." the rest of his words are drowned by the explosion, the power of it was felt even as far as they stood. He remained silent for a few moments even as the warehouse broke into utter chaos around him, shouts of 'Attack' and 'Empire' and a variety of other things heard. "Here, Ambassador." the man said, reaching for the holster at his waist and removing the blaster from within. "I'll have to get you out of here, we can't let you be captured on our watch." that would be nothing short of catastrophic for his group.

Ambassador Delgard is one step ahead of Alder, it seems. As she rises from her crouched position on the ground, she shakily waves a palm blaster in her right hand. "No offense, sir, but I've been toting this along for the duration of my visit. In preparation for times like this, of course." Just like old times! Only, nearly ten years had passed between then and now, a fact reminded all too painfully by the aches in her knees. Chancing a smile, she stares past the rebel leader to the scorched bay doors. "I trust you have a way out that doesn't involve using /that/ door?"

Ambrosia wields her Palm Blaster.

"No one will be using that door if things go our way.", the man's words clarified as suddenly one of the hovercrafts was sent hurtling towards the door, or what had been a door anyway. It was set on autopilot, no one being injured as it slammed into the opening, and soon another hovercraft joined it. "That'll give us enough time to take what we can and blow what we have to. We've been prepared for something like this. But I will be escorting you out of here, and yes there is more than one way of getting out of here." The blaster was holstered, Alder choosing for himself a rifle that he had earlier placed against the wall. "Follow me.", and with that the grey-haired man started running, agility that belies his age displayed. "We'll be going underground.", he points to a stairwell that led to the warehouse's bottom level, the stairs set against one of the wall.

The sound of blaster fire being exchanged could be heard from the other side of the bulding, where the entrance had been blown wide open, although now it was blocked somewhat by the two hovercrafts sent crashing before it. The sound of the E-11 rifle firing heard, proof that the attack was the Empire's doing for those who could recognize it just by sound.

"Roger that," Ambrosia nods, hurtling forward to follow his pace best she can. This is one diplomat that knows when /not/ to be argumentative. As they flee, she fingers something insider her collar, glancing every so often to the sounds of gunfire. "Ambassador Delgard to Commander Cen - Enemy has located our position and engaged in firefight. Commander Alder is relocating me, but I request radio silence until we are able to find a safer location. Our meeting has been compromised and its possible that our communication channels are likewise betrayed. Stand by for my update. I'll be out of range for awhile." With that, she disengages the device, silencing it with a push of a button.

The transmission was received almost as soon as it was made, and the response was quick and to the point, whoever was on the other side agreeing to the request. "We will try and make a distraction for you to sneak out of that district." The comm channel is cut off then lest it be traced.

Alder turned his head back as the Ambassador began to spoke, although after a moment he just nodded, his focus returning to their escape attempt. He goes down the stairs two at a time, his rifle raised in front of him and his eyes narrowing the time it takes to get used to the dimmer lights. The basement they found themselves in was used mainly for maintenance, large machines and generators humming loudly. They were in a corridor that led deeper in before curving sharply to the left. "When's the last time you've been in a fight, Ambassador?"

Clumsier thumps echo softly behind Alder as Ambrosia follows him down the stairs, two-by-two, her hand slapping the rail for an occasional balance check. Muttering something under her breath, she hops down the last two and hurries to shelter herself in the shadows of the hulking machine as they move along. "Oh, I suppose that depends on what you consider to be a fight," She answers, keeping her voice low as possible, having to talk almost directly into his ear amidst the surrounding noise. "If we're talking explosions and armored raids, then..." You can almost hear the clock ticking backwards in her head as she tries to count. Her voice cracks into a shaky laugh. "Maybe 8 or 9 years ago." Her laugh does poorly to convince herself, even, and her expression quickly sours into a scowl. "Nevermind that. I'd rather think about the last time I had a shot of lum."

"Lum?", Alder asks without looking back at the Ambassador. Without slowing down, he taps the commlinjk hanging from his ear, the device having buzzed. The one-sided conversation is still enough to reveal what is happening up above, the Stormtroopers had just sent another two missiles slamming into the hovercrafts that blocked their way and were just now coming into the warehouse. "Alright, get out of there and blow the charges on the west side of the warehouse and if you have the medical supplies ready to go, get rid of as many of the other crates as possible before escaping."

Once the corner was turned, a way out was seen at the far end of this corridor, a small doorway that blended in with the wall. "It'll lead us to the sewers, from there we can get out of this place a few blocks down in a shopping arcade."

"Sewers..." Ambrosia pants softly, squinting upwards to the muffled on goings above ground. She curses, looking ahead with disgust. "You sound like you've taken this shortcut a time or two."

"I like to make sure my men have a way out of any base we occupy, we're not to the point where we can afford a stand-up fight with the Empire.", even as the man spoke, the sound of loud explosions were heard above, the building itself shaking powerfully. "But it doesn't mean we won't try and deal them whatever damage we can if they attack."

Soon enough, they burst into the sewers, and while the scent was overpowering, at least the walkways that were on either side of the flowing water were clean enough and lit brightly at that. Alder raised a finger to his lips, silence requested as soon as footsteps were heard, the sound of them echoing far. He pointed to a deep alcove set along the right walkway, the one they were on, "Hide in there, I will try and see what it is. If it's Imperial troops, I can try and draw them towards me if you can ambush them with that gun of yours?"

She'd been in some filthy situations before. A burning building filled with scorched remains of her own personnel, low-end cantinas, Dewback stables, swoop-racing locker rooms, a swamp, Ernest Pallando's bedroom...

But a sewer takes the cake. Lips clammed shut up until this point with a vain attempt at keeping the air's taste out of her mouth, Ambrosia nods, eyes wide. It was no use, of course, the smell having permeated its way along the back of her throat long ago. Still, she doesn't speak, perhaps concerned equally with keeping things /in/ just as much as out. Blinking her eyes hard to keep them from rolling back in her head, she steps back into the alcove and crouches to one knee. A gesture signals her readiness once she's stopped fidgeting.

The man soon walked down the other walkway, his rifle raised and his finger carressing its trigger, ready to fire at the slightest moment. He disappeared from sight as the sewers curve. The seconds seemed to drag into eternity before finally a very loud sound was heard, the echo of it not having dimmed the least bit. Soon, there were many more sounds like it that followed, the sound of rifles firing in quick succession broken only by that of bootsteps running quickly towards this part of the sewers.

Soon, Alder could be seen rounding the far side of the curve, pausing in his retreat only long enough to return fire. Thankfully, only one person seemed to be shooting at him at the rate plasma bolts landed at his feet or alongside the wall. The Corellian retreated once more, running past the recess along the wall that Ambrosia had chosen without so much as a look towards the Ambassador hidden within.

Another set of boots could be heard striking the hard ground, Alder's pursuer soon passing but a metre before the Ambassador. White armour shone dully, the light there was barely reflecting off it, the Stormtrooper halting some short distance away and raising his rifle.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In...out. Focused on calmer, quieter breathing for the time being, Ambrosia forces herself to stomach the stench and replace her shallow, frantic breaths with longer, deeper ones. Must concentrate. Must hit targets. Must be silent. Her stomach rumbles its disagreement with the situation and she glares at it.

The sound of a hot pursuit is unmistakable in her ears. Flattening herself against the wall best she can, she checks to ensure that her gun is set to stun, then waits. When Alder's blur runs past, she brings the weapon to bear, aiming into the blank space beyond until that space is filled with a very familiar, white form. No hesitation given, she fires.

Oops! Shot missed, cover blown, Ambrosia has at least given the trooper a reason to turn its back to Alder. Ducked against the floor, hunkered into a ball, she does two things: prays that she's invisible in the shadow, and braces her feet solidly against the wall, readying to pounce, should she be discovered.

The Stormtrooper had just enough warning, instinct more than anything else causing him to look back at the recess in the wall he just ran past. And he ducked out of the way of the oncoming shot, throwing himself to the side, in this case into the gently-flowing waters between the two walkways. Without word he began to raise his rifle as soon as he established a surer footing, most of his body up to his navel submerged under the water.

Alder stopped as soon as the trap was sprung, the man turning around quickly. His high hopes, however, are quickly dashed as the man sees the trap has failed. His rifle is quickly brought up and he fires a shot into the water before the enemy, hoping to draw the Stormtrooper's attention back on himself and away from the Ambassador.

Oops! Shot missed, cover blown, Ambrosia has at least given the trooper a reason to turn its back to Alder. Flattening herself against the floor, she crawls closer to the opening of the alcove, looking to where the splash came from. Seeing the trooper waist-deep in scum, she manages a snicker in spite of herself. The popular phrase of 'rebel scum' has just taken on a literal meaning. After Alder fires off a shot, she too takes aim for a second round. If nothing else, they've got him cornered.

Alder's support in drawing the Stormtrooper's attention was enough to put the Stormtrooper off balance, and the Ambassador's next attempt was true. The white armoured figure fell down into the water, the stun bolt effectively putting him down. "I wonder how long he will last in that water." Alder asks quietly, no mercy shown for the fallen soldier, as he walks over towards the Ambassador, having crossed to her side of the sewers using a small bridge a few metres down. "Are you alright, Ambassador?" he asks, concern evident both on his face and in his voice.

Somebody's mark hit home. Uncertain of it was her shot or Alder's, Ambrosia continues to lay there for a moment, her face mashed sideways into her tricep, hands still holding the blaster in trigger mode. Feelings of relief are washed quickly away by the smell and squishy grime beneath her. When the pounding subsides in her ears, she crawls to her feet and looks blearily down the tunnel towards the approaching Commander. "Been better." She responds, then looks back to the trooper bobbing steadily downstream. "I imagine he'll get caught up in a grate somewhere. They'll find him before long. Maybe." Shrugging her indifference, she emerges more fully from the alcove and starts to walk in the direction they were originally heading. "Let's find that shopping arcade. I'm going to need some new clothes."