RPlog:Neverending Nightmare

Senator Al'Dira's Office

The layout of the room is clean and simple, reflecting the tastes and attitudes of its inhabitant: Senator Alistair Al'Dira. A large black desk curves around in a semi circle around a comfortable looking office chair. To the left of the desk is a small intercom nestled right next to a simple looking command panel. On the other side of the desk is a large monitor with a simplistic barren keyboard.

On the wall behind where the senator sits is a holoflimsy image of the twi'lek himself with a young girl sitting on his shoulders. The scene behind them looks like the front of the basilica from Coruscant. In the background are a few blurred Jedi, one of them the Jedi Knight Ai'Kani. Beyond this much of the wall space is taken up by bookcases filled with holocron books and crystals of assorted material.

Three comfy sofas surround the rim of the desk so that visitors may sit and converse with the Senator. Over the entrance is a wall scroll depicting the image of the outline of a man in a Teras Kasi offensive pose.

-

The lights are dim and the air is a little chilly. Surrounding Senator Al'Dira's office are a number of monitors, several small ones on his desk and a large one behind him. Usually they are all showing something different, the current status of the markets, recent news, but not this evening. Every single monitor is showing the same dark image of Darth Malign sitting crookedly in his obsidian throne. The Senator himself looks as though he collapsed into his hair. He is slid a quarter down, one arm supporting his head and the other hanging carelessly off the edge. A terrifyingly focused look is etched across his face.

At first he thought he was still trapped in his nightmare. The twi'lek could not abide sleeplessness to get in the way of his waking life so he turned to controlled chemicals to induce a full nights sleep. He literally awoke to the ominous declaration of war from the Sith Lord and Alistair could not believe that he was still dreaming. If only. His deep azure eyes do not break away from the large monitor, staring deeply into the muted image of the dark lord speaking.

Brin is shown in by the secretary, her gaze fixing on the haggard face of her twi'lek friend. She murmurs a quiet thank you to the man's assistant without turning towards her, before she moves to drop into the seat across from Alistair. She reaches up to free her veil as she hears the door close behind her, revealing her own exhausted and worn features, etched with signs of concern for her friend. "Yeah. I heard about that, too. Hell of a thing, isn't it?"

Physically, the twi'lek is well rested. But emotionally he is completely drained. The nightmares attacking his fears and insecurities have left him a little shaken. Some people are afraid of the dark, death or losing their friends and families. Alistair has never been like that, not really. On some level though he's always been uncertain of his ability to lead. Always questioning whether he's made the right decision. When he began dedicating his life to the Republic, he began to fear its fall. It was coincidence when he first heard the Sith was building an empire that he dreamt of the Sith and the Empire strangling the life out of the Republic. Now, he's not so certain.

Alistair doesn't look away from the silent video as it repeats over and over again. "Over the thousands of years of recorded history, Empires have risen and fallen ten fold. Each age and era has its own great threat, sometimes marked by the rise and fall of the Sith. Sometimes not. Our time is no greater or more significant than any other outside of the fact that it is the one we live in. Because of that, we must treat it as though there has never been anything before this. As though if we fail, tomorrow won't come. But that's not true, is it."

"The Republic could fail, worlds destroyed and entire peoples turned to dust .. but eventually things would rebuild themselves. The dead would be forgotten, and the 'great evil' will eventually phase out into darkness."

"The Republic won't fall," Brin counters. She believes that, because she has to. Because she still remembers all too clearly the last time she lost faith in that statement. "The Sith are not infallable. No one is. They will make mistakes, and we will be there when they do. We will stop them." She watches Ali's face as she asks, "Did you hear about it? The raid to free the slaves. It was just... about a week back. We got them out. We stole the hard-drives at their base, and they're being mined for intel. The Sith aren't going to beat us."

"Have you seen the Malevolence?" Alistair mutters. "Through will of /force/ the damn Alchemist twisted the very figure of his vessel. The changes aren't purely asthetic either. It chills you to the bone, just to be near it. When it entered the Kashyyyk system, I knew before the instruments indicated anything. I knew because I was suddenly cold and terrified." The Senator has never faced down a real sith personally. The closest he came was in the canopies of Kashyyyk, when Malign rode in on his deadly droid. The Jedi dealt with him, but only just barely. Even when Tyy'sun was a fledgling force user, the supernatural powers he wielded was enough to unnerve the blue twi'lek. "The Sith don't care about measureable victories. We didn't win at Kashyyyk. We held them off, yes. But before they left the Sith devestated the planet. They don't want to rule and control, that's not what they want."

Alistair lets out a sigh. "All he wants to do is destroy. How do you fight an enemy with a droid army who doesn't care about his losses, so long as he destroys? You can't, not really. And then there is the Empire. If you think for one second they won't jump at the opportunity to break the Republic's back the first chance they get ... Malign declared war against the entire galaxy and he's got us all by the throat."

For a moment, Senator Al'Dira falls silent. He considers his words before speaking again. "I say the Republic won't fall because I can't say anything else. I will say it until the day that I die, even as I am crushed beneath the boots of the Empire and the Sith. I believe that because I have to believe it. We're going to stand like we always have under the guise of hope in the face of all hopelessness, and do what we do best."

"I have to believe it as well," Brin answers softly. "You saw what happened when I didn't. And I won't... I won't /be/ that again. I can't. Ku keeps telling me I have to stop, that I'm killing myself. But I can't stop. I'm too scared of what would happen if I did."

Tears start to leak out of her eyes as she continues, even though she struggles to contain them. "All the dreams are back, Ali, and I can't stop them. Dreams of me working for them... killing my friends. You, and Whisler, and... betraying the Republic, and Leia, and Captain Solo." She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to gain control of her emotions, but her exhaustion makes it almost impossible. "I keep telling myself they're only dreams... I can't become that again. I have to believe in what we're doing..."

"Everyone dreams." Alistair muses softly. "Our dreams tell us more about ourselves than we're ready to accept, sometimes. Every fear, bottled up emotion, every inadequecy and shortfall comes up in our dreams. But then we wake up and its another day. You're never going to stop being afraid of what you might do, what you could do." Or what you wont do, what you're unable to do or even what you're not willing to do, Alistair. "What matters is how you channel those feelings."

The twi'lek finally breaks his gaze from the image of Malign. "At best we can improve ourselves, and prove the dreams wrong."

"The dreams are wrong," Brin agrees. It isn't quite enough to stop the tears, but she does believe that. The dreams are wrong. "They're not natural, though. These dreams." She opens her eyes to look towards Alistair, and almost pleading look on her face. "You're having them too, right? You went to one of those planets, one of the missing planets, and now you're having the dreams too."

"I went to Sullust and Corellia." Al'Dira admits. "It kinda peeved the pilot whom I paid, but we flew straight into where the planets used to be. Coordinates 0,0 in each system, and there was nothing there. Left me feeling kind of empty to. Then a few days later some old dreams I haven't had in a while started coming back -- only worse. Sleep hasn't be easy, so I've been sedating myself. But that hasn't helped, not really."

"No, it doesn't," Brin agrees. "I've been on meds to help me sleep since... well. For months now. It's not helping anymore. I tried some stronger drugs, and they made things worse. And I'm trying so hard not to slip back into the way things were... with the stims, and the alcohol..." But it has been hard. And, if she were to be honest, she would admit to resorting to both at various times over the last week. But surely /someone/ would find a solution, and she wouldn't slide back into addiction again. ...right?

"The deja vu. Have you been having that too? Like something is wrong with time. Like things aren't... synced up quite right. I thought I was going insane. But I'm not the only one..."

"I sort of always feel a kind of dejavu. But yeah, It's gotten worse. There's something off but I can't put my finger on it. I figured I was just losing my mind, what with the lack of sleep." Alistair shrugs. He apparently hasn't given much thought to it. There are other bigger things on his mind. "But they're just dreams, neither here nor there."

"No. I think the things I've been hearing and seeing are from lack of sleep. And I was afraid to tell much of anyone that I thought I was losing my mind. Like I said, if the wrong person with the right knowledge heard me say that..." So much for her promotion. And possibly so much for have any sort of freedom whatsoever. "But how can planets disappear, and why does that cause nightmares and deja vu, and how can we undo both?" Ali can worry about the Sith if he wants. Brin is going to worry about their sanity. Because they can't keep doing what they're doing if they're impaired like this.

"An imperial weapon? Sith trickery? Who knows." Alistair sighs. "There's no debris, no subtle transmissions or SOS signals. The planets up and vanished, suddenly. Even the inhabitants must have been caught by surprise because there's /nothing/. Even my pilot is suffering from the same issues. But I haven't got time for it, we haven't got time for it. There are more pressing issues not only threatening our lives, but our WAY of living. Dreams never killed anyone. Let the Jedi deal with the spiritual. We're not going to be able to do anything. ooc "

"We /have/ to do something," Brin states firmly. "Can you look at me and honestly tell me that you're capable of thinking clearly? Of doing your best work? Or even of fighting at your best? And we /need/ to be doing our best right now. We /have/ to. How many NRI agents do you think are being affected? How many military pilots or marines or naval officers desperately flew home to try to find some trace of their families?" See? There's all the logical reasons it has to be a priority. Of course the other factor is much more simple. "I just can't keep living like this, Ali. Something is going to snap."

"I don't know what to tell you!" Alistair doesn't yell, he ROARS. Flying to his feet he sends a datapad skittering from his desk and smashing onto the ground. It's almost like he played on que when she said snap. In fact, it's almost /audible/. "What do you suggest. That we get in a big circle and hypothesize why we're all going mad? Hopefuly that some sap will speak up and tell you how to make it magically go away? It's fraking SITH in nature, it must be. What do you want me to do? It's nothing that wasn't already there. You want to know what I think we should do?" Alistair's voice isn't as loud as when he yelled, but it's twice as loud as normal. "/Deal with it./ That little box where you stored all your fears and demons isn't locked anymore and you've got to handle it."

Senator Al'Dira takes a deep breath and a hand goes to his forehead and he steps off to the side. He says and then speaks in a low voice, "I'm sorry. I don't have a magical answer or a step by step solution to this issue. I am a politician, not a spirtual guide. Appointing a committee to investigate why we're all going insane after investigating the missing planets is going to turn up nothing but sith spit."

Brin flinches at the unexpected anger, shrinking into her seat at first, before curling in on herself with her arms hugging across her stomach. "I don't know that I /can/ deal with it," she whispers softly. "And where am I supposed to turn to for help? To the 'spiritual advisors'? To the Jedi?" She lets out a bitter, sobbing laugh. "I tried that once. Johanna told me I was too dangerous to have around. Too dangerous for the /Jedi/. She banned me from the Temple grounds. I need help, and I don't know where to go... and I'm so /scared/ of what will happen if I don't find it."

"When there's nowhere else to turn." Alistair says evenly, "Turn to /yourself/. Nobody knows precisely what demons you face, and noone - not even the Jedi - can help you. It's a temporary solution. Just like you have no idea what keeps me awake at night and you'll never be able to help. I have to deal with it on my own until I am confident that I've dealt with it." The twi'lek sounds like a bubbling kettle, about to pop. "Well it affect our effectiveness and ability to carry out our responsibilities? /Damn right it will/. The more you fear, the more you feed into it. Until you get to the point your very shadow frightens the living frack out of you. Take that fear and tell it to shove off!"

"I've tried. I'm so tired, Ali..." And she's not strong enough alone. Desperately, Brin wished for Sha'dria's company. She would have something to say. Something to comfort her, and soothe her fears. It was selfish of her, she knew how hard it was on Sha'dria to see her like this. But she needs that help. "I wish I weren't so weak."

"It's not a matter of strength." Alistair says weakly. "It's a matter of resolution and character. I don't know what to tell you. I am having a hard enough time of dealing with it on my own. Just .. relax. You're not going to do anything you wouldn't do anyways. You are who you are. Find yourself, accept it, then take your fears and let go of them. Just .. let them go. The hardest thing I've ever had to do is let go of my fears, and I still can't manage it." The twi'lek's posture slumps and he makes for the door, turning once more before whispering. "Just relax." With that cryptic and mostly useless set of words, the Senator vanishes heading towards the direction of the Senate floor.

Brin lets out another of her soft, bitter laughs. She wants to beg him to stay. To stay, and just sit with her for a little while. Just so she wouldn't be alone. She wants so badly for a little company, but... she knows he is a busy man. A senator. Brin lets him leave, and stays where she is, curled up in Alistair's chair, with her arms hugging across her middle. Maybe she'll even fall asleep for a bit, however briefly. In a couple of hours tops, though, she'll be gone.

Flying low across the landscape of Ord Mantell approaching the city of New Alderaan as an unmarked, black shuttle. As it gets closer to the city the order comes out from a mutant Wookiee, "We're close enough. Deploy the gliders." he growls as three black gliders slide out of a side hatch. Wicked looking devices that soldiers hung onto with black wings spanning a little over six meters, and a light ion drive device for propulsion, but also small enough not to trip an anti air security net as an enemy starfighter or ship.

"This is unique enough for the Mandalorian?" he raises a brow from underneath his cloaked figure as the massive creature grabs the first glider and leaps from the shuttle and begins to move manually toward their target, "Landing site confirmed." he speaks as he maneuvers his glider toward Al'dira's office windows.

From their perspective three dots would slowly begin to gain in size until well...

The massive Wookiee already known for smashing a famous Marine commander into oblivion with a single punch balls his fist once again to teach the Senator's windows a very similar lesson, mutated claws open and close tightly as he rears back to swing, opening the way for the operation to move into the critical phase...Mission: To Capture the Senator Al'dira, alive.

Nano-seconds pass and the window shatters and within a few more of those nano-seconds a massive 3.2 meter tall abomonation stands before the Senator pitching his glider to the side into the bookcase, "Senator Al'dira." he growls, "I am Sentinel, Knight of 3, servant of Darth Malign." he gestures to the approaching gliders only seconds from landing behind him, "Those are my associates, I am here to capture you." Sentinel's alchemical quills quiver sounding like a thousand knives being sharpened as he extends his claws, "Will you come peacefully?" He roars, though for a Wookiee, Mutated or not, sounding rather polite.

(A droid like device on his neck translates all of his words into basic giving him an odd stereo like sound mixing Shyriiwook and a metallic rasping basic.)

The Mandalorian Supercommando, Cantrell, grins from behind his helmet, the roar of air rushing as he guides his identical glider alongside of Sentinel's glider, swaying from side to side as he gets used to the controls.

"Let's do this!"

The glass shatters with a thunderous roar, individual shards being thrown around the room. The sound of ripping fabric from the glider is evident, the Mandalorian tossing it aside. Reaching down, he unleashes a cruel looking blade, holding it in front of him and keeping his stance wide.

"I'd listen to him...I saw him clean punch a man's head off."

This suits Vectus better. Action, carrying out a real mission, killing someone. Much better than serving food. Dressed in an all-black attire, suited for an op such as this, Vectus grips the handles on his glider. Adrenaline pumping, Vectus looks ahead as the office building where the Senator resides grows closer. Dangerous, but he is willing to give his life for the mission. Anything the Dark Lord requires. He's the last of the group to approach the building; the Knights will go in first. He has yet to figure out why the Knights saw fit to bring him along. He is a slave. Perhaps Knight Cantrell has grown to appreciate his skills? But, no time to dwell on it. The time has come. The window shatters as the Wookiee makes his entrance, followed by Cantrell. Finally he makes his own entrance; jumping off the glider as he enters the office, Vectus rolls on the floor and reaches for his weapon. He does not speak; it is not his place. Let the Knights do that.

Brin, sitting curled in on herself, jerks upright at the sound of the shattering window, her gaze going towards the nightmare creature she remembered all too clearly from that very recent battle in some unnamed system. She doesn't wait for him to finish his speech before she leaps to her feet, shouting at her friend desperately in Ryl. "Alistair, run! ...and have someone bring me a weapon!" She whirls towards the arm chair she was sitting on, the open end of her veil swinging wildly, and leaving her features fully visible. Gripping the chair in both hands, Brin hurls it desperately towards the 'wookiee,' hoping to knock it back and out the window again.

Yeah, right.

(speaking in Ryl)

Maybe it's the lack of restful sleep, or maybe it's just the pure shock of a terrifying wookiee abruptly crashing through the window - either way the Senator spins around to face the assailants and stands frozen in his spot. A loud screeching alarm rings out, and the azure hued twi'lek is scarcely able to open his mouth and respond when two green hued twi'leks who are slightly larger than the Senator rush into the room. The first, Adon'Rha pushes Al'Dira to the ground and stands over him with a modified IR-5 blaster. The second, No'vus, charges at the wookiee with a fanatical focus wielding a utilitarian looking shock-pike. Protest erupts from Alistair Al'Dira as he crumbles onto the ground, reaching uselessly towards No'vus.

"No'vus - no!" The Senator cries, just in time for the second assailant to crash through the window.

/I've still got to be dreaming./ A look of horror is frozen on the azure colored twi'lek's face, /This is a nightmare. I'm still stuck in the nightmare./ If only that were the truth - just as the third attacker rolls into the room. Alistair is still paralyzed when Brin moves to act. They are all going to get themselves killed. It all happens so fast and there is nothing the helpless Senator can do. "Stop - no!"

The massive mutant Wookiee's red eyes flash from underneath his hood as massive blackened claws each several dozen centimeters long are seen coming out from underneath his heavy robe as he pushes his cape back, as a chair hits him he doesn't seem very bothered by it. The mutant Wookiee acts, a pike was a dangerous weapon in this area, fortunately he had reach and speed. He steps passed the pike and moves fast digging five claws right into the charging Twi'lek guard impaling him through and then clinching them, slicing the poor sentient into pieces allowing blood to spill into a thick pool before him as pieces of flesh and fabric rain down at his feet, "Senator, do not resist. I do not have time for games." Sentinel turns toward Cantrell, "Mandalorian, see to the guard. Vectus, make sure the woman offers us no further problems." he orders plainly pushing forward, "Time to come with us Senator, your internment is unavoidable, we are not to be toyed with. I killed more than a hundred marines just a few days ago, what would a hundred more matter to me?" he seems grim as he speaks, though the translation device doesn't offer that emotional burden when it produces a robotic sounding basic.

"Aye, ori'vod!"

The Mandalorian's heavy mechanical voice from his external-com barks flately, in a fluid motion, reaches into the cloaked side of his body, retrieving a Kylan-3.

"Ret'!" Cantrell growls in Mando'a, his words drowned in the concussive shot from the 'hand cannon', squarely hitting the other remaining guard on his forehead. The man's eyes roll back into his head as the bolt sears the skin of the man. The Mandalorian chuckles mechanically, gesturing Vectus over towards the chair slinging woman.

"I told you not to mess with him, utreekov." Cantrell moves cautiously over towards the Senator, keeping his blaster trained towards the man, and the sword pointed downwards.

"Anymore tricks?"

Vectus watches as the chair goes helplessly to the side, not more than a tickle to the Wookiee. They are helplessly outgunned and outmanned; why fight? Why resist, when there is no hope? Vectus nods approvingly as the guard is slaughtered, and then nods his head in obedience. "At once, My Lord," Vectus says, turning his attention upon the woman who threw the chair. "Resistance is unnecessary. There is no escape," he says to Brin, approaching her with his weapon in hand, pointed at her. With it set to stun - as he had been ordered to take them alive - he presses the trigger, hoping to subdue the woman from causing anymore trouble.

"Go, or their deaths are meaningless!" Brin shouts desperately. And her own as well. She does not put her odds on surviving a second fight with the wookiee-creature as being very high. She was willing to face those odds, however, if it saved Alistair. Her eyes dart desperately around the room, looking for anything that can be used as a weapon, and as Adon'Rha is killed and Vectus opens fire, she dives quickly out of the way, reaching for the twi'lek's dropped IR-5. (speaking in Ryl)

"Udesii!" Alistair screams as his two personal guards and close friends are no more. Maybe It would be enough to set the Mandalorian off for just a moment. The Senator stands slowly, dusting off the front of his robes. There is a distinct and distant look in the twi'lek's eyes as his lips curl into something of a sneer. He puts up a hand to Brin beckoning her to stay where she is and do nothing more.

"Don't move Brin. Don't move a single muscle. There is no need for a heroine today." He doesn't suggest or recommend, he commands in a strong voice.

Alarms continue to ring out and there are distant panicked voices, but no help worth mentioning will arrive on time. There is no point in needlessly fighting, not now. They've already been broken - any further damage would simply be a waste. Yet there isn't any fear in the features of the azure-hued Senator.

"This is outrageous." Senator Al'Dira announces in an arrogant and aristocratic tone, stepping towards the great mutated wookiee. "It seems the wicked have no use for /common decency/ or formality. Call off your pathetic slaves and harm no one else. I will go with you and speak with your Master."

The mutant Wookiee was not one to show outrage, "Stand down." he states plainly toward his fellow agents, "The Senator is coming peacefully." he moves picking his glider up out of the bookshelf and throwing the man a harness, "Wear this." the creature orders turning to Vectus, "notify our pickup ship, leave the woman she has no value to us." Sentinel then closes the distance between him and the Senator pulling off his heavy cloak and revealing his mutated figure for full view, he drapes the cloak around the Senator once he has the harness, "I need this covering your body or I will kill by accident in the accent." he advises his red cape keeping its position around his neck and over one shoulder, "Our Master wants you alive and we intend to deliver." With that the Senator is swooped up and the Wookiee leads the group to leap out of the window and to move the rendevous with their pickup ship. The red eyed mutant turns quickly as he departs toward Brin, "Do not follow us, or you will end up like them." he points to the pool of blood and shredded flesh, and the other with a serious blaster wound. With that the group quickly moves to depart.

Vectus watches as the young lady dodges his stun blast, rolling and grabbing the IR-5. But at that moment the order comes: stop. He keeps his rifle leveled on the lady, making sure she doesn't try to fight. "You heard your Lady. Stop, or I will fire again." He knows the Wookiee wants her to live, and the Senator is coming peacefully, but this one has a tough streak to her. Never underestimate anyone. He keeps the rifle leveled on her, moving slowly backwards towards the window now that the operation seems to be coming to a close. "There does not have to be any more bloodshed."

"You speak Mando'a as well..."

The Mandalorian studies the Twi'lek curiously, keeping his blaster trained towards him. "Jate." He glances over at the lumbering Wookiee, tilting his head forward in agreement. Returning back to the Twi'lek, he gestures him forward.

"Smart move."

"As for you, dala..." Cantrell growls, moving towards the fiesty woman, pointing his hand cannon towards her. "I won't hesitate to turn you into paste." The Mandalorian towers over Vectus, but pales in comparison to his Wookiee mutant friend.

"What do you say?"

"Alistair, you idiot!" Brin shouts, finally falling back into basic. But despite the 'encouragement' from all sides, including from her senator friend, the woman refuses to back down. She opens fire on the Mandalore, aiming for the joints of the armor in the desperate hope that something will score a true hit. Even if she does, she knows the odds of getting through the other two to rescue Alistair are almost non-existant, but she can't give up. She can't.

"Don't hurt her, please. She is loyal, but foolish." Alistair says in Mando'a, still maintaining the aristocratic tone in his voice. "She is my aliit, family." Senator Al'Dira obeys all the instructions of the wookiee and offers no argument or struggle. Once all is said and done he glances back once more to Brin. "Shael, sit." he commands. This is not a nightmare. Alistair keeps having to remind himself. (speaking in Mandalorian)

The Wookiee and the Senator leap from the building ahead and his glider's ion drive kicks in giving them a little speed and altitude as they fly away from the scene, "Your cooperation will be noted, Senator." he states plainly his vodocoder translating on his behalf, "We will make sure your comfort is secured, but we do have a few questions you will need to answer." That was the extent of Sentinel's worlds as he continued taking the pair further away from the government building to a waiting shuttle hovering at the edge of the city. Even as emergency vehicles move to respond to the government building issue, the Sith take an alternate, pre-planned to route to avoid run-ins. So far everything was running smoothly.

The words are cut short by the blaster shot from Brin's IR-5. The Mandalorian sidesteps from the shot, bending his knees a bit in the process to avoid the bolt, which happens to hit one of the many artwork hanging from the walls.

"You shouldn't have done that, dala." Cantrell growls in Mando'a, leveling his blaster towards Brin, hearing the Twi'lek's last words of pleading. After all, he did comply peacefully to surrender. Perhaps he'll cut him a break.

"You better teach your aliit some manners." Cantrell continues in Mando'a, shifting his blaster over towards the woman's hand, squeezing a shot, a faint mechanical chuckle squeezed through his external com.

Maiming isn't the same as killing, so he complied somewhat. (speaking in Mandalorian)

Brin lets out a feral-sounding growl as her shot at Cantrell misses, and is swinging her weapon around for another shot when something Alistair says gets her attention. Her gaze swivels towards him instantly, her aim freezing in Cantrell's direction, but no longer tracking his movements. "No..." she breathes softly her angry, determined expression melting into one of pleading. "Ali..." That's all she gets out before Cantrell's shot slams into her blaster and her hand, causing her to let out a pained cry. The weapon clatters to the floor as she turns back towards Cantrell, her expression turning defiant once again as she craddles her injured hand. "I will find you," she promises in a soft voice. "Find each of you, and kill you."

Vectus watches as Brin falls down, the victim of Cantrell's attack. Some people just don't listen. But, he does feel respect for the woman. She is a true warrior; she doesn't surrender, and will fight to the death, if need be. He cannot fault her. She should die a warrior's death, he muses, but he knows the Wookiee ordered not to kill her. Looking to Cantrell, he nods his head. "Nice shot, sir. Do we leave her here, or should we give her a warrior's death?" Maybe the Wookiee will reconsider; after all, why leave a witness? Looking down at the woman, he smiles a little.

"No..." Cantrell looks down at the woman, bringing his blaster up a bit while he continues to admire his...handiwork. Gesturing towards the gliders, the Mandalorian begins to step back as well, keeping his attention on the now injured woman

"She doesn't deserve a warriors death...not just yet. Let's get out of here.

Stepping forward just a bit after hearing her words, the Mandalorian lets out a loud laugh, kneeling down a bit away from the woman. Pushing his helmet up, he allows the woman to take a good look at his face, a large toothy grin plastered on the man's face

"I look forward to it, dala."

Letting his helmet slide back down, the Mandalorian rushes over towards his glider, strapping himself back on. Taking another glance back at the woman before he leaves, Cantrell takes the last word.

"Re'turcye mhi"