An Unscrupulous Undertaking: Infiltration

The Hanger of the Edean's Ferry has been a bustle of activity for the last few hours. Ships dock and depart, staying long enough to deposit their cargo before they return for another load. Containers measuring 6 meters a side and 3 high have rapidly begun to fill the cargo area. Even with their repulser bases, it takes four Trandoshans to move these crates down the shuttle ramps. At any given time there are 3 or 4 of these shuttles crowding in to deposit their goods. A lone protocol droid, flanked by two military counterparts receives and inspects each container before adding it to the manifest. Once approaved, large warehouse loading droids, standing 10 meters tall, extend massive clamps and haul each container with ease. Maneuvering like giant crabs on four massive, reticulated legs, the loaders deftly work their way across the deck. Each crate is stacked neatly in the space 3 high. A walkway is left between them for easy navigation, and monitoring. Terminals blink in newly formed corridors displaying vital information about the contents of each package. Above them all stand a network of gantries, patrolled at regular intervals by M-3PO droids armed with heavy rifles, riot guns, and grenade launchers. Releived of their cargo, the shuttles make way for more to take their place and the cycle begins anew.

The shuttle Steady Claw comes in for it's final run, transmitting docking codes to the control officer on board the Edean's Ferry, and pulling up alongside of the vessel to await the pre-scan. Once given docking clearance, her starboard thrusters begin firing to engage the final positioning and docking clamps take hold. A brief shot of gas exits to space as the seal is created and finally the airlock doors open up to the cargo area. A simple 3PO droid marches forward with a datapad in hand for the deck officer as loading droids aboard the shuttle begin to gather up and reposition the containers on board.

The white protocol droid finishes inspecting the previous shipment, adds it to the Ferry's manifest and summons one of the large droids to move it into position. Once finished he marches dutifully toward the Steady Claw with military droids in tow. "How highly irregular." Addressing the shuttles 3PO, his mechanical voice is an electronic baratone. Clearly programmed more for authority than ettiquette. He receives the datapad and scans it quickly, then looks up sharply. "Yours is the only shuttle manned by droids. Explain."

"The pilot, co-pilot, and security team are all comprised of sentients. Standard loading droids are used for lifting the containers. This vessel has a greater cargo capacity and the droids were already present from their last shipment." All stated matter of factly as he extends an arm with the datapad. "Two containers ready for inspection and loading." Behind him, two much smaller loading droids pull out a container each as two Trandoshans stand guard behind them.

"Your answer is satisfactory. Have the containers placed on the deck. All crew members must report for identification as well." The white droid orders. The two M-3PO units brandish large repeating blaster rifles as they take up flanking positions around the inspection area on the deck.

"As you wish." His task completed, the droid begins to walk back to the ship as the loading droids wheel themselves and the containers forward. Behind them, four Trandoshans walk along, their ID cards being collected by the pilot for inspection. He hands them out to the white droid, staring at him and obviously annoyed at having to get out of the ship for this extra task.

The robot inspector makes his way down the line of crew members. His optic sensors scan each sentient and compare them to the IDs badges. "Your Identification checks out. Please remain still while the cargo is inspected." The Military units keep their rifles trained on the crew as the inspection continues. The white protocol droid heads to the monitor panels of each container and surveys the data. He punches data into the pad he carries and summons one of the giant loading droids. The pincer-like clamps wrap around a container and it is lofted high above the group. "Everything is in order. Thank you for your cooperation. Please proceed..." He is interrupted by a series of alarming beeps, bellows and hums from the loader. The M-3PO units steady their rifles at the crew. "There is a discrepancy." states the deck officer droid. "You're container is several tons too light. Explain Immediately."

The 3PO unit stops in his place and pivots to turn and speak to his counterpart. "Please look deeper at the details on that particular container. It is comprised of children and teenage product, designated for work in tighter confines. This group was kept separate in order to help subjugate some unruly ones down during repackaging." Meanwhile, the other Trandoshans are still visibly alarmed by what is transpiring, each one tensing up a bit and looking between the white droid and the M-3PO units.

The droid inspector remains still a long moment, as it processes this new information, recalculates appropriate weights, and compares against the reported figure to determine wether it falls within expectable limits. The armed droids continue, poised to fire in case this answer doesn't check out. "Explanation acceptable." He signals the loading unit to proceed and turns back to the shuttle crew, his voice suddenly too cordial and polite. "Thank you for your cooperation. We apologize for any inconvenience. Please proceed re-embarkation and undocking protocols. We thank you for your business."

The 3PO unit processes the situation and then offers a short bow to his counterpart, signalling the end of the proceedings. "It was most enjoyable to do business with you and I do hope for further business ventures in the future." The crew looks to their own droid and snarl at him, now more than happy to recall themselves into the vessel. Her airlock closes, docking clamps retract, and with a few bursts of her maneuvering thrusters is away and clear. A quick exchange is made with the tower and it begins heading back towards Trandosha.

The protocol droid moves on to the next shipment and begins it's process again. The Loading droid crab-walks along the deck with the first container until it reaches it's destination. With a his of hydraulics the arms, less than gently ,deposit the container on the top of a stack 6 meters high. Returning to the deck it grabs the second container and hauls it into position on a stack next to the first. The process is not delicate, and any cargo would be pretty shook up along the way.

Finally in place and having waited the proper amount of time, the team inside the lighter container sets to work. They unbuckle their harnesses and shift carefully into position, bringing out a small cutter to silently pull holes in two top corners of the container before slipping fiberoptic cameras up to scan over the area and get a feel for the security layout around them.

From their high position the cameras get a decent layout of the cargo area. Directly above them, and about 6 meters up is a catwalk of sorts. Two droids, armed with heavy blasters patrol back and fourth across a 60 meter stretch. At each end this platform meets others. These corners are also guarded by droids. These are outfitted with long range laser rifles. This configuration is repeated in a wide grid above the entire bay.

The view down is a 9 meter drop. Armed droids also patrol the deck through the corridors between the cargo. Like the catwalk, there are two that patrol the stretch below. one of these appears to carry a heavy repeater and the other a grenade launcher. The view toward the airlock shows the last vessel loading up to depart. The ship should be in transit in just a few moments.

The team holds and waits for the last shuttle to leave and for the transport to shove off. In the meantime, they map out the location of what they believe will be the guards that will be more permanent and watch for the pattern and timing of the patrol group. The others are pulling and prepping the appropriate weapons for their eventual exit into the cargo hold at large. The holes up top are expanded just enough for shots to begin to be lined up on two of the long range guns on the catwalk.

The droids below continue their patrol at a regular, relaxed pace. On the catwalk above, one of the two stops to chat with the sentry on the starboard corner. The thin metallic voice echoes faintly through the air, mostly drowned by the thrumb of the engines "These jobs are far to tedious. Now that we are in flight, the odds of any security breach are roughly 4,927,920 to 1." The other droid sets it's rifle down as it joins the conversation. "Our station here IS superfluous, and even if we WERE needed I haven't had proper maintenance in nearly a cycle. My servos will freeze up altogether any day now."

Two priority targets. As the long guns relax, the team sets their order and moves into positions, three by the door to hit the big guns, two ready to pop off catwalk sentries who are still armed, and another one ready to open the top hatch and begin firing as needed. A count of five is established once the ship has initiated the jump, the container door opens just enough, and the team's blasters break the relative calm of the room before the top hatch opens. A Trandoshan moves up the ladder, one hand on his blaster as he scans over the room for his first target.

The ship lurches as it makes the jump to hyperspace. Before the droids have a chance to steady themselves the loud report of 5 blasters firing in unison announces a hostile presence. The heavily armed sentries below are taken completely unawares as a hail of burning ozone tears through their armor plating. It sends a shower of sparks and metal parts in all directions ricocheting off the surrounding containers. A frightened howl comes from the nearest crate, but quickly fades into a low whine.

Meanwhile The two Droids still patrolling on the far side of the ship suffer a similar fate. As the sentry unit approaches the snipers head erupts in a blaze of molten fire. The sentry has no time to react before it's motivator is burned from it's chest by it's own crimson beam.

The two slacking droids are immediately on alert as, are every other droids in the bay. The sniper fumbles for his rifle and the remaining sentry scans the bay unable to find where the shots came from. "What was that?" it says before ship wide alarms begin to blare.

Step two initiates immediately as one team member tosses two balls out of the container and down towards one side of the bay. Periodically, the balls each send out the sound of further blaster fire and start to navigate the maze of containers randomly and of their control. The door to the container is shut shortly, sealing it up and keeping it indistinguishable to any droids who may happen to investigate from below.

Up top, the lead Trandoshan pulls himself up, staying in a crouch as he pops off another shot in the direction of the catwalk sentries. Behind him, another begins to emerge. Inside the container, the two members manning the makeshift gunports fire off once again at the remaining catwalk droids.

The little decoys keep the ground units scrambling in confusion. Droids scurry around corners and into each other trying to find the source of the fire. Meanwhile up top the two remaining guards on the platform unceremoniously litter the deck below with their still smoldering parts.

From this more open vantage point the gantry layout is clear. Two platforms run along the port and starboard side of the ship and are connected by 3 cross platforms evenly spaced in the gaps between the stacks of crates. There are stairs on the Fore-Starboard and the Aft-Port corners. The intruders crate is in the second column row furthers aft, leaving all three cross platforms between them and the fore turbolift. The aft turbolift however is free and clear, but requires a 20 meter dash with no cover.

Alarms continue to blare as more droids on the gantry begin to converge on the spot where their companions met their fate. Coming down each side platform are a small squad of 4. The leader of each carries a riot shield nearly as large as the gap between the rails. Each intersection still remains guarded by a sniper, but the rest of the upper patrols are populating these squads.

A quick survey gives the team an idea of how to proceed as the lead Trandoshan barks a quick set of commands in his native tongue, directing for suppressing fire on the incoming teams on the gantry. Inside the container, the pair on the makeshift gunports each fire on their respective sides while one team member up top drops a magnetic synthcord holder and dumps himself over the edge. The door of the container opens up once again with one Trandoshan laying down cover fire as another team member begins repelling down to the deck, hugging up against the container column to get some cover between himself and as much of the gantry as possible.

The suppressive fire does a fair job of slowing the advancing squads. The riot shields are painted with large black streaks as blaster bolts harmlessly reflect off their Alusteel surfaces. While it doesn't stop their steady march forward, one of the droids on the port side is decapitated as it leans out to take a shot. This serves enough of a warning to to the rest to limit their attacks to blind shots around the cover. Behind them, the snipers on each of the corners steady their aim at the source of the shots. One manages to let off a pot shot at the Trandoshan on top of the container just as he jumps over the side. The shot burns a scorch into the container a handbreadth from the synth cord magnet.

On the ground another droid explodes in dramatic fashion as the door gunners lay down their own covering fire. Meanwhile two small explosions from the far side of the cargo deck signal that the decoys has been found and destroyed. The com link from one of the destroyed droids crackles to life as a Trandoshan descends nearly on top of it. "All units seal off exits and converge on container 42 Immediately" reports the mechanical voice, further distorted by the tiny speaker.

The two on the ground take up positions on the corners to lay down more suppressing fire as the man on the hatch disappears within the container. The Trandoshan at the door is replaced as he rappels down to the deck, followed by the remaining team members. Two more simulators are dropped onto the ground, both working their way forward before the team starts to move aft, covering each other to make way to the door. Two dart out in an all-out sprint to the aft exit door while the remainder of the team covers.

Before the lead Intruder passes the last crate on his way toward the door, a steel 'foot' the width of a good sized tree slams down in it's path. Without time to react, the Lizard careens into the giant steel appendage and lands in a heap on the deck. Before he can return to his feet, three more giant legs round the corner, bringing the enormous frame of a warehouse loader droid into view. With steady impending pace the droid extends a pincer shaped clamp of an arm around the Lizard's waist, lifts him high into the air, and closes it with a sudden hydraulic hiss. Blood pours around the clamp as the creatures top half slides to the floor in a gory mess. Behind this gruesome scene a second loader plants itself firmly in front of the exit.

The decoys are little help this time around. The droids in the air maintain visual contact as best as possible and begin to lay down their own suppressive fire. The remaining Trandoshan en route to the exit, takes a blast of this fire in the foot. The com once again chatters. "Ground units, we have them pinned down in isle 2 and container 42. Commence flanking maneuvers."

The change in circumstances is an incredible shock to the group, but they are quick to rebound and recover. As the one Trandoshan screams out during his horribly painful death, his comrades redirect away from the primary exit, now focused on the maintenance shaft. The now lead Trandoshan rolls over onto his back, bringing his rifle to bear on the nearest loading droid. The team spills out into the open space, two hang back against the containers to maintain suppressing fire against the droids behind them from a point of cover, one more opening fire on the other loading droid, and another pulling a fragmentation grenade, letting it cook for a second, and then tossing it at the farthest loader. The second Trandoshan who had pushed forward and popped off a quick spat of blaster fire transitions his carbine to one hand as he reaches down into a loop on the downed team member's back to begin dragging him towards the maintenance shaft.

The injured Trandoshan's fire burns harmlessly against the heavy frame of the droid as it diverts it's attention from the evicerated corpse. Meanwhile the grenade detonates beneath the other loader and it collapses in a heap of slag, permanently blocking the door. The concussion from this blast distracts the first droid long enough the for the injured soldier to be snatched up by his team mate.

The hail of blaster fire only increases as the five infiltrators make their mad dash to the maintenance hatch. The flanking droids arrive a moment too late to have them trapped, but join the fray regardless. Red beams of hot light burn through the air, in a heavy blanket. One of these beams burns right through the chest of the injured sentient as he's being dragged along. A second beam ignites the pack on the back of another setting fire to the equipment inside. Yet another lizard takes a shot through the shoulder, and a graze across his side. The team manages to make it to the sealed hatch, but the air continues to burn with blaster fire and several dozen droids close in imminently.

One man down, one man next to gone, another injured, and the auto-slicer is now out of commission. The team narrowly makes it onto the maintenance shaft, two of them pivoting there to offer a quick burst of cover fire before they all disappear within. At the front, Trrs'kal turns to assess the team and offers up a low growl upon seeing the damage. He points to two members and points aft, instructing them to head for the power core. As he reaches his remaining comrade, he points to a ladder leading straight up and then begins to lean next to the quickly fading brother and hands him a thermal detonator. The other wraps his hands around it, thumbing the switch to arm it as Trrs'kal begins to exit rapidly for the upward ladder. "For the glory of the clan, brother!"

Light fills the entrance as the droids continue to pour blaster fire into the maintenance shaft. The dying Trandoshan inside is ripped to shreds as they close in. One droid tosses it's own thermal detonator into the hole. The resulting explosion of two detonators peels back the wall plating and fills the shafts with fire that dissipates mere inches from the team headed aft. "No life-signs detected. Intruders Eliminated. Return to your posts." Orders the mechanical voice from just outside the gaping hole in the wall. The ship-wide alarms also silence themselves. In the absence of alarms and blaster fire, the maintenance hatch feels oppressively silent.

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The team headed up toward the bridge makes their way slowly. A smoldering shoulder wound makes climbing ladders difficult. Fortunately the ladder leads to a cross-shaft in short order. The end of this shaft is another hatch door with a manual release.

The two-man team of Trandoshans move forward through the maintenance shaft carefully, trying to keep their sense of direction straight in the schematics they had studied when preparing for the operation. As they reach the end of the shaft, they stack up on the hatch, carefully opening it a crack and extending the fiber optic scope through to get a discrete picture of what may await them on the other side. While Trrs'kal operates the scope, the other team member pulls a medpack and does his best to apply a quick treatment to his wounds, primarily consisting of a quick bacta-laced bandage and some combat stims to keep him alert.

The scope shows another narrow corridor. Conduits run along the walls and periodic panels of blinking lights illuminate the passage. The tunnel runs perpendicular to the one above. Both ends terminate in vault-like doors, each with a large manual lock worked by a wheel.

Trrs'kal retracts the scope and gives and all-clear sign. The injured member pushes the door all the way open, turns to the port side of the vessel, and begins to march forward down the shaft, pondering their location compared to distance covered from their last known spot and comparing it all against a memory of the layout. Trrs'kal closes the hatch behind himself and marches backward, his blaster carbine up and at the ready. As they reach the large door, they once again stack up and begin to slowly and carefully work the wheel. Pushing forward a crack, the door opens up enough to get the scope through.

The wheel turns slowly and creaks loudly as it does. When the door pushes open, lights come on inside a very small room about 2 meters in length. Another identical door is on the other side, emblazoned with the words "Turbo Laser Maintenance." The room appears to be a widely unused airlock. A small plate is bolted beside the door. The text on it is nearly unreadable from years of fading, and could easily be missed. It reads "Caution. Exterior Port. Environmental suits required when not in dry-dock."

Clearly they had gotten turned around at some point in the shafts and, rather unfortunately, they simply had no idea of it. The injured Trandoshan takes point, pushing further at the door and finding that after his effort had finally managed to pull it in, it quite promptly did the same to him. Almost as if an invisible hand had taken hold of him and pulled, the Trandoshan disappears from his place and the sound of rushing air fills the shaft. The sheer force of the venting causes Trrs'kal's feet to get pulled up in the air as he clings to the nearby safety bar, letting his blaster carbine dangle wildly from its harness on his chest. He manages to swing his feet around, shoving all of his weight against the door to shut it and give the wheel a quick turn. One more down and he was now alone at hitting the bridge. Catching his breath, he growls lowly and then picks himself back up and starts for the other door in the shaft. If he survived this mission, Drax Rendolen would be on the wrong end of a very serious discussion.

The hatch at the other end of the previous corridor leads to a similar room. Also 2 meters in length with hatch doors on both ends, this room reads 'Life Support Maintenance' on the interior door. Another warning plate, considerably easier to read, offers "Artificial Gravity not active in Life Support maintenance, Proceed with caution".

Working the door at the end and spilling inside, Trrs'kal takes his time with reading the signage this time around, having learned from his comrade's mistake. He had learned quite a few things today... Don't mess with loading droids seemed to be the biggest of them all. The Trandoshan was cursing under his breath at the speed they had to cobble together the operation as he looks at the sign for the next door, opening it and carefully entering, his hand in a guide rail as he does so to pull himself along.

Inside is a long corridor running fore and aft along what must be the spine of the ship. A short way forward another air-lock style hatch in the floor. Judging by the current bearings, it leads to a passage back to the hangar. The path continues forward about 150 meters. Periodically small terminals attached to various large pieces of machinery light up the darkness. The path dead-ends in an even larger unit. A small screen on the front blinks in the darkness.

Trrs'kal pulls himself forward periodically, letting the weightlessness carry him forward for the most part. He pauses along the way, slowing his speed a bit as he ponders the door and then keeps moving forward. Reaching the screen at the end, he looks at it for a moment and then gives it a tap to see just what function it might perform.

The screen glows brighter as it comes to life. A full three-dimensional readout of the entire ventilation systems extends like the intravenous system of some gigantic organism. Major sections area marked off and identified. A green color code shows all areas of the ship with active life-support. Yellows shows areas where it's disabled to conserve power. Any damaged areas would display in red according to the key. A great many pathways are coded yellow, but this is unsurprising with most of the ship crewed by droids. There does seem to be a clear path leading to the command deck. It's somewhat circuitous, but should be easily navigable using this map. The console identifies the current location as 'Oxygen Scrubber C-12' and theres a command to open the access hatch for repairs.

Finally, some luck! Trrs'kal taps away to initiate Maintenance Mode on the desired path. While he waits for the color of the path to change to green, he carefully studies the map to burn it into his memory, chuckling menacingly as he pictures the destruction he will soon bring to the crew manning that bridge. Pushing back, he shifts over to the access shaft and pulls himself through to begin the long journey to the bridge.

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The Massive explosion covered their tracks it seems because the team heading toward the aft has made the path with relative ease. Throughout the corridor various panels, displays and conduits decorate the walls. These are presumably for the maintenance of many of the ships systems. The corridor goes on like this with various branching paths for 100 meters or so. These paths are clearly labeled, Sublight Engines, Reserve Generator, Central Computer, Power Core, Hyper Drive, Turbo Laser Control.

The second team trudges forward through the maintenance shaft, eyeing each of the signs as they pass them. When they reach the Power Core, they change course to head in that direction. As they do so, their weapons come up to a more alert position and their movement slows to try and achieve some level of stealthiness.

A small hatch leads to the Power Core. It's not a small room on a ship this size, but resistance should be minimal. While it is the very heart of the vessel, it's not generally considered a security risk. As the group nears, the temperature drops drastically. Keeping a reactor this size cool is relatively easy in the depths of space; simply turn off the heat.

Just as the other team did, this one stacks up on the small hatch for the Power Core. Cold-blooded as they were, the shift in temperature is noted, but not terribly bothersome just yet for them. They open the hatch slowly and as quietly as they can manage, using another scope to peer inside and see what challenges might await them.

More droids. Mostly maintenance models. The droids roam about monitoring serious panels around a large transparisteel room in the middle. Inside the reactor itself glows brightly as raw energy arcs between it's giant contact points. There doesn't appear to be a single combat ready unit in the bunch.

Suddenly the view through the scope jars and the entire rifle is ripped from the Trandoshan's hand. The hatch is flung wide and an old model HK droid trains the creatures own weapon at the opening with one hand, and a sawed off concussion rifle in the other. "Now what brings scale meat-bags to a place like this?"

The lead Trandoshan's eyes widen as the scope is ripped from his one hand and his rifle from the other, even tearing it free of the harness on his chest. He only has a moment to respond as he bears his claws and swipes madly at the droid's weapon barrels. Behind him, the second Trandoshan squares his carbine and lets loose a salvo on the antiquated HK model, stepping sideways for some partial cover as he does so.

The weapon erupts as the claw swipes at it, vaporizing the hand in an instant. The carbine blast is fired rapidly, but lands home on the Droids armored chest plate just as the HK squeezes the trigger on the concussion rifle. The force of the blast makes the droids shot go wide and burn against the wall beside the hatch. Surprisingly the droid is unharmed. A blue light fizzles around it's metallic body as a personal laser shield deactivates, overloaded from the shot. A full second later it flickers back to life. By time the droid is lining up another shot with the Trandoshan's rifle.

The lead Trandoshan screams with rage as the weapon explodes and incinerates his hand. He stumbles for a moment and then quick draws his blaster pistol and begins to fire off shots as best he can. Behind him, his partner continues his firing, letting the rifle climb a bit in hopes of getting a lucky cluster of blasts climbing up the droids body. Given his range and weapon, he is opting for longer bursts now to break through the shielding and score a follow-up.

Maintenance droids scramble as blaster fire echoes throughout the room. Though mostly unarmed they converge on the battle with spanners and arc welders. The HK droid fumbles under a barrage of fire. The shields flicker in and out and every few blasts lands hard on it's armor. One particularly lucky shot from the pistol ironically burns through the exposed servo on the droids should joint, evening the score and making the concussion rifle hang limp. Disregarding the assault of blaster fire, the HK fires it's own barrage at the injured assailant.

The injured Trandoshan shifts tactics now, his arm falling back behind him for a push as he begins kicking his leg up and brandishing the claws on his foot to swipe madly at the HK droid. Meanwhile, his partner is continuing the intesified salvo, focusing his fire high and away from the swipes of his partner, some shots undoubtedly landing behind the droid now.

The kick lands solidly as the HK begins it's salvo. The droid's arm jerks wildly with the force of the kick, raking away from the injured warrior. Unfortunately it traces it's burning path across his comrades chest. The Hk suddenly drops to the floor in a heap, a smoldering hole in it's head. One of the partner's shots must have landed. Meanwhile a half-dozen maintenance droids armed with tools close in swinging wildly.

The Trandoshan has no time to celebrate or to mourn the loss of his brother in battle. Instead, he rolls back and lands in a crouch next to his fallen clansman, his blaster up and firing at the oncoming droids as they begin to funnel towards the choke-point of the door. Given the slower and less efficient nature, he plans his shots more carefully to make the best use of them.

One by one the maintenance droids drop littering the floor with molten parts. The last one makes it close enough to land in a heap at the Lizards clawed feet.

There is a moment where the last droid drops and the Trandoshan's heart nearly explodes from his chest in excitement. He lays there, his chest heaving, with his weapon still pointed at the door. Eventually, he rolls over and unceremoniously pulls his comrade's bag and usable equipment from him. Having stowed what was useful, reloaded and holstered his blaster, and mounted the working blaster carbine to his chest, he moves into the Power Core to get started with the work at hand. Pun intended.

The control terminal for the Power core displays an abundance of information. Readouts of every systems draws, Power by deck, Modulation settings, and a dozen other options including control over-rides for every non-flight system down to the blast doors on the corridors. Buried deep in the menu of the user interface is also an option to turn off the reactor.

Loaded with approximately what he needed, the final Trandoshan of the aft team clears the doorway to the Power Core and slams the blast door shut with the slap of his remaining hand on the control panel. He issues it a quick locking command and then begins to explore the menus and controls to see just how much he had access to from this particular terminal, eventually stumbling on the ALL OFF option. As he sees it, he chuckles menacingly to himself and hovers over it for a moment and directs himself elsewhere, choosing to close all of the blast doors he has access to and cutting the power to the hangar bay field generators. Sure, the cargo was tied down, but those damned loading droids certainly weren't and it would make for a decent barrier in the middle of the ship.

Icons representing doorways throughout the ship blink red, signifying blast-door closure. The emergency blast doors are there to protect the crew in case of ship damage. No need to secure them. The hanger bay field generators on the other hand are safest when they are one. Because of this deactivation requires a security over-ride.

The Trandoshan curses under his breath as he eyes the screen. Changing focus, he drops the power to life support and continues laughing to himself. Pulling a hand off of the controls, he taps his radio twice to signal the rest of the team and then returns to the tasks at hand. Moving around, he returns to the ALL OFF option and pounds down on the control console to activate it with gusto.

The Trandoshan is getting ahead of himself. When he punches the life support controls, another error message displays. 'Security Over-ride Required.' The all off switch yields similar results. 'Security Over-ride Require:" This screen is slightly different however. Beneath the code input field is another line of text. "In the even of imminent reactor melt-down, use manual shut-down in reactor containment." This line is accompanied by a simple diagram showing the location of the shutdown lever on the side of the reactor itself. Another line of test accompanies this image. "WARNING. EXTREME HEAT AND HIGH RADIATION EXPOSURE INSIDE CONTAINMENT. ENVIRONMENTAL SUITE REQUIRED FOR ALL SENTIENT RACES."

Hanging next to the containment airlock is an environmental suite. It's sized for a standard human male.

This was not, contrary to how it had appeared thus far, a suicide mission for the Trandoshans. His eyes dart back and forth between the manual lever and the suit for a moment before he leaves the console, shimmying his way into the suit. Once he has it on, one arm on it flops around limply, a clear reminder of his lost appendage.

Victory at all costs. Victory is glory. Tahk'pa pauses in front of the chamber surrounding the reactor and stares forward into it, the raw energies of the chamber reflecting off of the visor in front of him, mirroring the madness of his own thoughts. "For the glory of the clan!" Surging forward, he pounds on the control to open the ante-chamber, steps in and seals it, then moves forward into the reaction. He had been through much, but he summons up all of his strength to push forward and pull down on the level, taking great satisfaction in the downward tone that indicates his success. Slowly, he tries to walk back towards the door, finding that even if he were to make it through, he would not live for much longer. As the Trandoshan falls forward, he brings his hand up and swipes his claws across the door controls, sealing it shut from the inside.

As the warrior breaths his last labored breaths, the great descending hum of power draining from every system announces his success. Lights flicker and go out. A great jolt signals the ship's sudden drop out of hyperspace moments before the backup generator comes online to operate vital systems.