No Good Deed Pt. 2 (Randon)

[Meira]

The perimeter lights of the refugee camp quickly faded as the speeder raced over the plains. Their yellow glow gave way to the distantly dim light of the stars in the black sky above. The planet's moon -Meira could not recall its name- had either not yet risen, or was currently in Randon's shadow. In any case, they were enveloped in the night as they ventured toward the raider base. Meira sat astride the speeder, behind Watchman Oran, but her mind was adrift in the currents of the Force. Eyes closed, she allowed the Force to flow through and around her. The world that sped past was not an endless collection of grass, rocks, and trees. It was one connected entity, a perfect balance of life, death, and rebirth, cycling endlessly. And they were connected to it. Macen shone like a beacon in her minds eye, as she herself did; their light connected to all that surrounded them. The speed at which they moved mattered not. They were tiny pinpricks of light moving across the vast face of a world just as alive as they were.

It took a moment for Meira to register that the speeder was slowing. By the time Macen had brought it to a complete halt, she was blinking slowly, as if waking from a dream. She stretched as she stepped from the speeder, quickly waking her limbs from their idleness as she looked around. Eyes quickly darted to the sky, getting her bearings once more, and then turned to one of the bags hanging off the side of the speeder. She retrieved two sets of electrobinoculars and handed one to Macen. The two moved to a small ridge and Meira climbed up to lay prone at the top. She scanned the horizon, using the night vision on the binoculars to quickly find the dim light of the entrance to the raider base.

"Right where he said it would be." she commented, thumbing the controls to zoom in.

The raiders had taken up residence in a large cave structure, taking advantage of the mineral rich terrain to confuse the sensors or any spy drones the cities might have sent out. Randon was riddled with countless such caves and canyons. It was no wonder they'd managed to evade detection for so long. This location seemed small enough from the outside, but their informant had assured them that the tunnels ran deep, with several large caverns below the surface for the raiders to take advantage of. It was, however, restricted by the one entrance/exit. The cave mouth allowed their larger vehicles to enter and be kept out of sight, but there was no other means of accessing the base. From what Meira could see, they'd taken pains to guard their cave well. Aside from the several raiders on the ground, she spotted a watch nest high up on the cliff wall. She could only assume there was another, but she was having trouble finding it.

"They don't seem to be on alert." Meira said, shuffling back from the rise so that she could sit up. "We've beaten any that might have escaped capture. Though, I'm not certain how long we'll have. We need to hurry."

Walking back to the speeder, Meira took her lightsaber from its place at her hip. She quickly unzipped a boot, exposing her prosthetic leg and fit the saber into he compartment in the calf. From one of the speeder's bags, she also took small locator beacons, and fit them into what little space remained in the leg. After re-zipping her boot, she turned to her companion, appraising his disguise once again.

"Hmm..." she said, brows furrowing for a moment. "Ah, come here." Meira found her canteen and splashed some water onto her hands. She then knelt down and rubbed her hands into the dirt. As Macen approached, she reached up and fit his goggles back over his eyes, then wiped some of the dirt onto his face around them. He was already somewhat dusty from the ride, but a little more couldn't hurt. She repeated the process for herself, making a tada! gesture as she finished.

"Try not to smile too much." she quickly added. "Your teeth are too clean for a refugee."

[Ysmir]

---

Macen thoroughly enjoyed speeders, particularly driving them. Despite having no natural-born talent for such endeavors, he had made it a point to teach himself at least basic maneuvers when he had spare time throughout all his life. The rush of wind against his face and through his hair was a feeling unlike any other. Maybe he rode a bit too fast, but he didn't hear Meira complaining, so he figured it would be alright.

Internally, he was hoping the trip wouldn't end, but he knew it had to eventually. They glided through grassy plains, moss-covered hills, and one or two deep canyons as he followed the navigation interface uploaded with the data supplied to them by the prisoner. Macen hoped that the Captain would adhere to his specifications; Alvar deserved respite. Macen doubted that those men did what they did out of any innate malice or desire to do evil. Like any honest person thrust into desperation, one sometimes was forced to go against their moral code simply to make ends meet. Did that make it right? Certainly not. But it was easy to cast blame, and such an action could be a lure to the Dark Side if left unchecked. Macen was all too aware of this.

The interface bleeped at him a few times. Looking down, Macen saw the GPS dot rapidly approaching, and so he began to bring the speeder to a halt as they climbed atop a vast overhang that looked out over the valley below. Steam blew out from the chassis beneath as he idled the engine, and it simmered from a dull roar to a low hum. He kicked his foot out. He took the binoculars from Meira and followed her lead to the edge of the ridge.

Macen settled down next to her, taking a brief moment to study the subject of their mission from afar with clear eyes.

In the veil of night -- and probably even in day, Macen thought -- their base was shrouded by natural cover. You could fly over this vista a thousand times and never find what you were looking for. It was elegant in its simplicity, and likely a great part of the reason why they had avoided detection for many months.

He lifted the binoculars and scanned over the entrance briefly. No visible guards outside, but what was inside was anyone's guess. Macen placed the binoculars away and stood when Meira did, nodding to her words. "You're right. Let's not waste any time."

At the speeder, Macen realized when he saw Meira's method of hiding her lightsaber hilt, he quickly realized he had no such convenient way to do so himself. Were he more vain, he might even be jealous of the utility that the prosthetic brought her, but hearing her story hours ago dissuaded any attempt for his subconscious to be so petty. He did the only thing he could really do -- he unclipped the leather-bound hilt from his belt and placed it firmly within the tactical pouch on his left thigh, which was graciously large enough to contain the weapon due to its minimalist design. It would be difficult to access in a pinch, but better than nothing. Leaving it behind would be foolish.

When he was finished, he turned just in time to see Meira studying him. He lifted a brow curiously, approaching her when she summoned him closer, though unsure of her motives.

Then blinked when mud was smeared across his cheeks.

It wasn't exactly pretty, nor was it the most... tactful addition to their disguise, but Macen could scant deny its usefulness. None of the prisoners back at the camp were particularly clean, and one could only assume that life lived on the frontier as bandits would leave little time for things like personal hygiene. So, he slid his goggles back on when she was finished scuffing him up.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?", he asked wryly to her suggestion, ending with said smile she warned him against. But, nonetheless, he wiped the smirk from his face and lifted both hands in mock defense.

"Point taken, I'll be careful," he relented, before moving around the back of the speeder to go over the crates of surplus supplies granted to them as faux-cargo. He also removed one of the two-way communicators and tossed it over to Meira. "It'll be good to have these if we get separated. I trust in the Force, but I always have a backup plan -- just in case."

With that, Macen threw his leg back over the speeder and primed the engine once more. He looked back to Meira. "Onward." With a kick, they took off.

---

The lights in the cavern were more clearly visible as they got closer. The wide plain leading to the mountainous wall was so open, it almost made Macen feel like they were exposed, being watched -- and given the capabilities of their adversaries, they very well could have been. But it was too little, too late for such concerns now. They needed to steel their resolve if they wished to get in without needless bloodshed.

Under the cavern overhang, the dirt path extended further into the bowels of the rocky cliff face. Industrial string lights lined the jagged walls that had streaks of various ore deposits running through them, with evidence of active mining seen from carbon scoring. Eventually, they reached a grand metallic gate. It encompassed the entirety of the cavern path, with only two patches of webbed fencing on the exterior providing view past it.

A floodlight kicked in, nearly blinding the two; Macen lifted a hand to block his eyes somewhat.

"Business?", a voice exuded from a clearly electronic source.

Macen swallowed and lowered his hand slightly. "Cargo. Food, some ammo -- not much else. We got hit."

There was a brief moment of silence that unnerved Macen to no end, but eventually, the electronic voice boomed back. "Atlas?"

Macen nodded, unsure if he could be seen. "Yeah. They were ready for us, dunno who else got away," he continued as he attempted to fast talk through the gate, looking back at Meira briefly, "there were Jedi."

Another pause.

Then, the gate clicked. The double doors swung open with an obnoxious creak as the path ahead was exposed.

"Swing by the cargo bay first. Boss is gonna wanna see you after for a debrief," the voice commanded, then went silent afterward.

Macen wasted no time following the instruction, revving the speeder's engine and hovering through the gates and deeper into the compound.

Just around the bend after they were through, they were introduced to a grand sight. The cavern tunnel opened up into a sprawling interior complex, the cavern chamber ceiling reaching nearly two hundred feet in height. There were clear signs of construction and landscaping, efforts to make the place more habitable and hospitable to their operations. There were various individuals moving about, performing a number of mundane seeming tasks; checking manifests, inspecting speeders, the works. Macen navigated carefully through the area toward what he identified as the cargo bay. It was a large section of the corner of the chamber, full of crates and boxes with logos and serial numbers from corporations all over the planet. A short, pudgy man with a thick beard and a milky left eye stood with a datapad in hand. His head perked up as the duo arrived, and he lowered his datapad with a groan.

"Five hours! Five fuckin' hours late! You have any idea how much Bantha shit I've been gettin' for losin' track of this haul!?", the man barked as he looked between Macen and Meira.

Macen went to speak before the man continued. "Ah, t'Hell wittit... so what you two bring me anyway, huh?", he asked as he held the datapad up, ready to tap away on it.

[Meira]

Meira rolled her eyes at Macen's words, but did not honor them with a response beyond a poorly restrained smile and a shake of her head. Catching the comm, she resumed her place behind him on the speeder and they were off once again. This portion of the ride was more tense. It was not a nervous tension, but a ready one. She could sense the shift in Macen as well. They might have had the luxury of letting their minds wander during the trip over, but that time had passed. They had to bring their focus to the present, and Meira was pleased with how her partner did just that. For all his banter, Macen knew when it was time to be serious. She appreciated that.

Their arrival at the gate was met with a sudden, blinding floodlight. This time, Macen was doing all the talking. Meira was content in that, playing her part as the tired companion who just couldn't be bothered. The guards were easily convinced and they were permitted through. "That was risky," she said after they'd passed the guards, "saying there were Jedi. But it might turn their attention outward rather than on us. Be mindful." She said no more as they neared the cargo bay, wary of the other people moving around.

A squat man approached, already irritated. Meira was not keen on the attention his outburst would bring them and so reached out through the Force to touch his mind. The gesture of her hand was kept low, and mostly hidden by Macen's form as he was dismounting. She eased the irritation slightly, just enough for him to realize that it really didn't do him any good to gripe at two very obviously low level grunts. It did the trick. His mind had calmed just enough to remember that he had some episodes of As the Stars Turn to watch once he was done here, and the sooner he got this haul accounted for, the sooner he could get to that. She moved to help Macen unload what they'd brought, opening a crate to show the scant ammunition. The pudgy man did not seem impressed.

"We hit them in the canyon, like planned." she explained. But they musta known we were there. We got this off the last skiff in their line, but it all went ta'-"

"Yeah, yeah. Save it for the Boss, alright." the man said, waving a dismissing hand at her before turning to Macen to ask him for specifics.

Were Meira a lesser woman, she might have taken offense to being dismissed like that. But, she was not a lesser woman, and it helped that she was considered so insignificant that she wasn't even worth looking in the eye. Giving Macen just the slightest of shrugs, she turned her own attention to scanning the cavern. It was massive, far larger than one might expect when seeing it from the outside. But she was not using her eyes so much as she casually studied the place. Meira sank to one knee, feigning to be adjusting a strap on her boot as she reached out with the Force, sensing for some concentration of power. There were no other Force-sensitive beings around that she could feel. But even among those who could not touch the Force, there were those who exuded power. People were drawn to them as leaders. For a group such as this, they had to have a charismatic person in charge, keeping what organization there could be had in a chaotic group of raiders.

Her eyes were drawn to a carved out corridor at a far corner of the main cavern. Unlike several others that dotted the walls, this one had a heavy door fitted into it. She could feel the ebb and flow of bodies that had moved through that door, all with purpose and anticipation. Other passageways were simply carved tunnels, leading to places of rest or leisure. Whoever the boss was, they were behind the door.

"Can we go now?" Meira said, putting a bit of tired annoyance into her voice as she stood and turned to face Macen and the squat man. "I'm starving and we still gotta report in."

The man gave a grunt, looking at Macen with his good eye as if to say women, am I right?" But he nodded his head all the same, waving them away and then turning to bark at two passing raiders to come move the crates. Meira's eyes connected to Macen's as she reached through the Force. This way, I think. She sent the thought as she subtly gestured with her head toward the tunnel with the door.

"You seem to speak their language." she whispered to him as she fell into step at his side. "I'll follow your lead."

They approached the door and were able to pass through with no issue. The tunnel beyond was well lit, the stone floor showing smooth lines worn in by the passage of countless people. There were two places where the tunnel branched off. Meira ignored the first, the smell of cooking meat making its end obvious. She did, however, turn down the second branch, sensing a focus of attention in that direction. And she was right. At the end of this tunnel was a single door, flanked by two very bored looking guards. They perked up as they saw Meira and Macen approach, each looking at them and then at each other. The guard on the right motioned with his head, as if imploring the other who sighed.

"What do you want? He's eating." the guard on the left demanded.

[Ysmir]

The ornery man calmed from Meira's quick intervention, and Macen inwardly sighed with relief at the use of her wits. From the back of their salvaged speeder, they unloaded the three crates of "supplies" that had run over into surplus from those at the refugee camp. It was a ragtag assortment of ammunition, medicines (mostly medpacs and some standard painkillers), and scraps of non-perishable foodstuffs. Not exactly a glamorous take, but enough, Macen hoped, to be passable considering the colossal failure that was the raid on their convoy.

When she spoke, Macen had to fight to keep from smiling, remembering her advice earlier -- her affected accent sounded strange coming off her tongue. But the amusement was short-lived, and his brows furrowed at the pudgy man's hastened and rude reaction. He exchanged a brief glance with Meira before turning to him.

"Some power packs, a few medpacs -- one life support kit. Don't see those too often these days. Uhhh..." he lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, "canned goods. Mostly field rations, nothing too fancy."

"Field rations!? Those fuckin' refugees'd be better off starvin' than eatin' Republic field rations!" the man exclaimed at Macen's explanation, grumbling to himself as he tacked away on the datapad. "Guess the new recruits're gonna have some dog chow the next few weeks, heheh..."

Macen grimaced at the man's crude joke, then stepped back as he went to count the exact numbers within each box, branded on the side with Atlas Corp.'s logo.

When his count was finished and Meira astutely expressed her impatience, Macen returned the man's look with nothing more than a non-committal shrug. When they were waved off, Macen was all too eager to get away from the squat man.

Falling in stride with Meira, he eyed around the cavern cautiously, but not in such a manner as to give himself away. He wore the look of a weary and worn militia, maybe because he actually was weary and worn. They hadn't gotten a single wink of meaningful rest for close to a day at this point, and the extended action was beginning to catch up with him. But the Force provided a vigor that would keep some bounce in his step for the time being. He looked down to Meira.

"These men... they're real charmers," he said in jest, cracking the smallest of smirks.

Macen followed her lead down the hall she had identified earlier. A shockingly pleasant smell filled the air between the walls -- despite their gruff demeanor and overall disreputable qualities, their cook certainly seemed to know what they were doing. Pulling himself from the door to the mess hall, he continued following Meira until they came upon another door; this one was metal, with a large latch keeping it shut and its frame bolted into the surrounding duracrete. It looked like it might have led to a vault, or some other important room, but it was no bigger than your average door.

"What do you want? He's eating."

Macen looked between the two guards, looking first to the one who conceded the question to his companion. "We're in from the Atlas raid. We were told to come for a debrief."

The two guards looked at one another simultaneously, each quirking a brow. The one who spoke before scratched at his stubble as he looked at Macen. "Roscoe take a blow to the head or somethin'? He knows he don't like being interrupted during dinner."

Macen shrugged, placing his hands on his hips. "Look... I don't wanna be here any more than you guys do. We're just following orders."

They locked eyes again. The guard on the right nodded his head to the door. The one on the left shook his head.

"Nah. Not me, nope. Your turn."

The man on the right sighed and hung his head briefly, before moving to the latch and undoing it. The durasteel creaked against itself. He cracked the door slightly, poking his head inside. "Hey, boss, got a couple scabs from the Atlas hit. You wanna see 'em?"

If there was a verbal response, neither Macen nor Meira were able to hear it. Regardless, the man looked at them and nodded, stepping aside as he swung the door open. "Go right in."

The door to the room didn't betray its contents one bit. What appeared from the outside to be utilitarian and brutalistic was anything but. It looked to be more of a study than any sort of strongroom or armory; the floor was wood tile with delicate and intricate grain running throughout. A large, round table sat in the center of the room, with a tactical map of the capital city's borders and surrounding plains and canyons plastered to the wall across from it. Sitting at the head of the circular table with a stern expression and a plate of steak and sauteed veggies was a young man, barely twenty-five at the most, regarding Macen and Meira.

His looks aside, the man was dressed in clean and polished black combat armor of unknown origin. To Macen, it closely resembled the standard armor of Republic special forces, but painted and lacking any distinguishing features. He finished chewing, then lifted his brows as though waiting for something.

"So? Can I help you?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

Macen wasted no more time silently regarding the young man once they were addressed. "It's, uh, like he said," Macen stated, thumbing back at the door, "we're checking in from the Atlas raid. We were told to come see you."

The young man lifted a brow, setting his fork down on his plate and leaning back in his chair. He looked between the two of them for a moment before nodding his head. "Okay... I hope it went well. Well enough, at least. They're getting wiser every day. Hard to keep them on their toes when we can't predict their routes."

Macen was about to reply, but the man lifted a finger. "One question, though."

Macen's brow raised, and the man leaned forward onto his elbows. He glanced between Macen and Meira. "How come I don't recognize you two?"

[Meira]

As Macen replied to the guards at the door, Meira decided her best option was to lean into her role. Shifting her weight to her good leg, Meira affected the tired posture of one who'd been scouting, fighting, and then traveling all day and night. The difficult thing wasn't feigning fatigue, as that was a real enough condition for both of them. The difficulty was more in allowing the fatigue to show enough to be convincing, but also controlled enough that it wasn't affecting her too badly. Like her companion, Meira was relying on the Force to bolster her energy reserves. She knew that it would see her through for some time yet, but was not keen on relying on it too much. Balance in all things... the toll would need to be paid eventually. She had to be careful that it would not be too taxing when that time came. So while the guards squabbled over who should interrupt the boss' meal, Meira yawned and stretched her arms until they were given the clear to go in. At that point, Meira visibly straightened herself, rolling her neck as if waking herself up for something important. Like a student going into the principal's office, she hoped.

Considering their supposed newness to the raiders, Meira decided her best bet was to affect a somewhat impressed, but nervous demeanor as they entered the room. She took short glances around with eyes slightly widened, but mostly kept her gaze down. She relied instead on her senses to bring her the majority of the information she'd need. No other beings in the room, save the seated man. No immediate physical danger.

The man was younger that Meira expected. The level of organization these raiders demonstrated had led her to believe they were lead by someone with more years of experience than seemed possible for one so young. But, she supposed he might not be human. There were plenty of races that appeared human but possessed longer lifespans or other qualities. He could be far older than he seemed. On the other hand, he could be a prodigy, of sorts. That would perhaps be more dangerous. Great minds turned toward sinister purpose were terrible things. In their favor, at least, she sensed he had no connection to the Force. Unless he was very skilled at hiding it, she and Macen would have that advantage at least.

After regarding them for a moment as he chewed, the man spoke. Meira, continuing her role, looked quickly toward Macen to answer. He did, and well. So far, so good. But then she sensed a shift in the air. Meira resisted the urge to look up directly at the man. She had to keep from reacting to things a normal person would not necessarily sense. Reaching out, she felt that the man guarded himself well. Not that he was actively suppressing his thoughts or feelings, but rather that he was a man accustomed to self control in general. Overall, he was calm, but a slight suspicion was building just under the surface.

"One question, though."

Meira allowed herself to glance up then. She glanced sidelong at Macen, allowing some anxiety to show, as he asked his question. She swallowed, bringing one hand up to scratch the side of her neck. Don't over-do it. She thought to herself, trying to use her unfamiliarity with playacting a role to her advantage. Low level grunts were supposed to be nervous around the boss, right?

"N-new recruits." she said, starting her voice off softer, then putting more force behind it. "Uh... sir." she added, glancing at Macen again as if checking that she wasn't screwing things up. "Only been... what? Like ten days? Couldn't stand the camps, ya know? So we lit off and got picked up by some a' your guys. I'm Meira." she said, then gestured at Macen. "That's Macen. Uh... sir." Hopefully she wasn't overplaying the grunt role.

"But it, uh... It didn't go good." she added in quickly. She affected the expression of one not wanting to impart bad news for fear of being blamed. In truth, she was just hoping to get the man's attention onto anything but scrutinizing who they were. "They were ready for us."

[Ysmir]

Macen's jaw set. It was difficult, in the tension of the room, to discern whether his companion's worry was genuine or affected -- he hoped it was a bit of both.

It was only a matter of time before this came up. The average worker or soldier wasn't going to pay enough attention to recognize that Macen and Meira were completely out of place, fresh-faced and without any prior history here. But the man before them, the unnamed commander who seemed perceptive and intelligent beyond his years, had noticed. Macen sensed that his suspicion was only surface-level; unless he was extremely adept at hiding his thoughts, it was clear he hadn't yet figured out something was wrong. If anything, he was genuinely curious as to why he didn't recognize them. Before Macen could stumble over his words in response, he heard Meira's voice echo next to him.

"N-new recruits."

When she glanced at him, Macen met her gaze and nodded, swallowing thickly as he turned back to the man who looked half Macen's own age. When Meira finished her explanation, Macen remained silent. She had said all that needed to be said.

The man, for his part, regarded the two for a moment. His gloved fingers drummed against the wooden table. There were a few moments of a heavy silence that draped itself over the room, perhaps moreso for the duo who hoped to fast-talk their way past this installation's commander. Then, once it seemed set to come crashing down, the man sighed and shook his head.

"Fuck," he said, pushing himself from the chair, "they're getting real smart. That doesn't bode well."

The man walked over to the tactical holomap against the back wall, running his hand across the display to bring up logistics for all their scouted routes. "Makes sense I don't recognize you two. I just got back from a meeting with our benefactor the other day. My name's Kellan, I'm this base's Overseer. I keep everyone in line," he said, glancing over his shoulder, "including you two now. And if I have to be completely honest, new blood is tough to find right now. The more attention we attract, the more pressure comes down on the heads of the people funding this operation. We don't want that."

The man -- Kellan -- focused in on the central spire of the capital city, which Macen and Meira would recognize as Atlas' main headquarter. He blew up the image, showing that he had access to full scans of the entire skyscraper's infrastructure, down to the security cameras strategically placed outside of the speeder garages and civilian access. He turned to the two, crossing his arms.

"I've shown this to all the scav crew but you two so far. It's the benefactor's next hit. I'm not sure exactly when it's supposed to be, but I know he has every crew ready to go at a moment's notice. It's all been leading up to this," he said as he swiped at the holographic projection, which spun and dispersed at his gesture. "There's going to be an in-depth briefing on it tomorrow morning at 0700 sharp. I expect to see you two there now that I know your faces."

Macen was the first to nod, reaffirmed and more confident now that they had Kellan's attention and support. "You got it, boss. We'll be there." He looked down to Meira, exchanging a quick nod with her.

"Good. Now go eat and get some rest," Kellan said, returning to his seat where his food awaited. But before he sat, he lifted his hand to the two.

"And do me a favor? Check back in with Grizz after tomorrow's briefing to go over the haul again. I just want to make sure there's no discrepancies in our reports." With that order dispensed, he sat back down with his food and waved the two off.

Once Macen and Meira were back out in the hallway and away from prying ears, he frowned. "They're planning on hitting the capital. There'd have to be a lot more of them than just this one base. That's not good."

From the hallway, they exited out into the main hub of the underground complex once more. With most of the intake done with for the night, it was far less busy than it had been when the first entered. Macen halted and stood off to the side of the floor with Meira.

"Obviously we do what we came here for; disable the compound however we can," he said, placing his hands on his hips, "but if we want to actually put a stop to this, we need to find out who this 'benefactor' is. Any ideas?"

[Meira]

There was an almost visible shift in the room when the man seemed to accept their story. It would be untrue to say that Meira didn't feel relieved. This sort of infiltration had never been in her wheelhouse. She returned Macen's nod, gave another to Kellan when they were dismissed, and followed her counterpart quickly from the room. Once they were comfortably away from prying ears, Meira bit her lip in thought at Macen's words.

"It does seem to make more sense now, though." she said. "Someone pulling the strings explains the success behind their tactics, why they were so effective."

"Obviously we do what we came here for; disable the compound however we can,"

Meira nodded. There was very little they could do at the moment in regards to the other cells that apparently existed.

"but if we want to actually put a stop this, we need to find out who this 'benefactor' is. Any ideas?"

She bit her lip again, leaning against a wall. There were fewer people moving around now. Most had gone to eat, or rest. But she still kept her senses primed for any hint of danger. Attacking this base would officially alert whoever was behind the scenes that someone had infiltrated their ranks. It was safe to say that their cover would be blown. They were too conveniently new, arriving at just the right -or wrong, depending on how you looked at it- time. Infiltration would no longer be enough after they took out this facility. Full on stealth might be required.

"We keep our focus on Kellan." she said, pushing off from the wall and walking oh-so-casually back through the large open space. She kept her pace close to Macen's so that they could continue to talk in hushed tones. "He's met with this benefactor. He might lead us to them when everything here falls apart." she scratched at her neck for a moment, considering. "We could capture him, maybe. But he doesn't seem like the type to give in to interrogation."

In the relative silence of the area, the growl from Meira's stomach was surprisingly loud. She stopped mid pace, a bit surprised, and then laughed. "Well, he did say we should go eat..."

The mess was somewhat crowded. It seemed everyone liked to eat at the same time. But the lines moved quickly, and the food smelled appetizing, in spite of all Meira's expectations to the contrary. She reminded herself as they gathered their meal, that every bit of this food had been stolen from the people in the camps. Trays loaded, she navigated to some empty seats at the end of one long table. At the opposite end of the hall, several raiders had gathered up with instruments and, after some tuning and false starts, began to play some songs. The atmosphere in the hall was light, jovial even. It was almost possible to forget what these people actually were.

"Doing well for themselves." Meira mumbled as she scooped up a spoonful of some kind of stew.

[Ysmir]

As if to signal the end of the shipping night, the large gates at the forefront of the facility began to creak and moan as they closed up. The overhead lights which illuminated the entryway disengaged, leaving the iron doors in shadow as they came together and locked down. If they wished to eventually leave this place (which, of course, was part of the plan), they'd need to get them open somehow or find an alternative exit.

Turning to follow Meira, Macen kept by her as they trotted across the warehouse toward where they had seen the mess hall on their way in. He nodded in agreeance to her assessment. "He was pretty forthcoming with all that info. Either they're desperate for good help, or--", Macen began, but drew his lip in as he cut short. He shook his head. "I don't want to be pessimistic, but I feel as though he's sharper than we know. We should be on our guard around him."

Brrrrrrrrrrllll.

Macen stopped in time with Meira. Brow arched, he slowly turned to peer down at his partner. "That was impressive."

---

In the somewhat cramped mess, they fit in amidst the common rabble well enough. As they got closer looks at their "compatriots", Macen quickly realized that Meira's idea to dirty their faces was indeed a good call. "Basic hygiene" didn't appear to be in any of these merc's vocabulary. Grease, soot, and sand stuck to their bodies in various places as though plastered to their skin. Macen thought it was likely a result of strenuous work coupled with precious little time for things like self-care. In a way, the Jedi found himself almost feeling bad for the pawns of this grand scheme that someone was orchestrating from the shadows. Despite his humble beginnings and the stresses of being a Jedi, his life in the Order had been anything but grueling. From a certain point of view, they had it easy compared to some denizens of the Galaxy.

Macen followed Meira's lead to the empty seats, sitting across from her with a tray of assorted dishes; he didn't know what practically any of it was, but it smelled good. Macen took hold of the one thing he did recognize -- a hunk of wheat bread -- and tore it in two to butter each end. "Certainly seems that way. Having second guesses about your line of work?" Macen glanced up at her and flashed a sly grin.

In spite of where they were, their combined hunger only served to reinforce their cover. They went to work on their meals much in the same way as all the men and women around them, and Macen even found himself enjoying some of the music the ragtag band played. But before long, meal time was over, and one by one the masses of the mess began to see themselves out and to their bunks. That was when it was he and Meira's time to shine.

They were amongst the last few mealtime indulgers to exit from the mess. Once they were by themselves and well outside of earshot, Macen turned to Meira.

"Alright, let's go over it one more time," he said, dropping down to a knee. He reached into his pocket and removed a small holoprojector, placing it onto the floor between them. It buzzed to life and brought up a display of the structure they were within, but only approximations; there'd be a lot of guesswork getting where they needed to go. "The motor depot is on the east wing. If you can get there and sabotage their fuel lines, it will fry the entire network of vehicles they have hooked up to it. The only problem is the attention that will draw. Make sure you ping our location to Atlas before you detonate."

He spun the projection around. A central chamber was highlighted deeper within the underground complex. "I'll get to their nerve center as quick as I can and use the multitool to hijack their communications. I'm no tech expert, but hopefully the code that Atlas hacker wrote up can do most of the work for me. If we time this right, we can drop their infrastructure and be out before they even realize what's going on."

Macen peered around the hall briefly. There was no one near them. He looked up to Meira. "Are you ready? You look it."

[Meira]

Meira pulled her brows in and tapped at her chin in mock consideration of Macen's question. Then, with a slight chuckle, she shook her head. "Nah." The two continued to tuck into their meal. While they ate, Meira allowed her senses to extend outward, feeling the surface thoughts and emotions of the raiders in the mess hall. There were no signs of suspicion. Most were tired, but enjoying the food and music. Some were frustrated, but there didn't seem to be anything directed at either herself or Macen, so she assumed it was just typical sentient sentiment. Coming in late in the evening seemed to be paying off. The raiders' guard was down, for the most part.

Not for long.

The thought followed Meira out of the mess hall, just as she followed Macen. She crouched down with him when they were safely alone, her eyes darting to the holoprojector between glances around to be sure no one was about to stumble upon them. But the area was quiet, with most of the raiders off to sleep. She nodded at her part of the plan. It would be easy enough. Though, she'd need to make sure their speeder bike wasn't hooked up to anything. She was more hesitant about his portion of the plan. Not in his ability. Meira was sure Macen was talented enough for that. But as the senior of the two, she was not particularly keen on allowing him to go alone into what she assumed to be the most guarded part of the raider compound. But, there was nothing for it. They could not do one task, then the other. Success required a coordinated effort.

Nodding at his question, Meira stood and glanced around again. "Be mindful." she said. "Don't be seen if you can avoid it. There will be plenty of violence here soon enough. No need for us to add to it." She gave him a reassuring smile and a quick pat to his arm. "See you in a few."

---

The corridors being empty meant the walk to the motor depot was uneventful. She hardly even needed their incomplete schematics to prompt her where to go. The smell of engine grease and fuel was strong. It seemed personal hygiene wasn't the only thing the raiders tended to neglect. She passed by the cargo area, noting that the squat man they'd met with when they arrived was nowhere to be seen. In his place, a younger man snoozed in a chair, feet propped up on a crate. Their speeder bike was no longer in the area. Someone must have moved it.

She skirted around the edge of the cargo area, avoiding the open space of the massive cavern they'd entered through as best as she could. On the far side, large doors stood open. That was the motor depot. As she neared, Meira did her best to pull the Force in around her. She was not skilled in the more overt stealth techniques in the Force, but she could gently influence a mind to focus elsewhere, so long as she herself was not being overly obvious.

The noise coming from the motor depot indicated there were several beings at work, readying the vehicles for the next day's agenda. She found a shadowy corner and settled herself there behind a large crate. As she counted the beings in the area, she quickly unzipped her boot to retrieve the locator beacon. Five mechanics were hard at work on the vehicles. Their attention was not likely to be drawn unless she really made a scene. There were, however, two other individuals in the depot that seemed more idle. One was a young, human looking man. Barely a man, Meira thought. A teenager. He darted between various stations throughout the depot, datapad in hand. After visiting each station, he moved quickly toward a small alcove where the other being sat at a computer terminal. This Kel Dor seemed to be the one in charge, as the human appeared to be bringing them readings and generally following their orders. The Kel Dor's alcove was directly between Meira and the fuel line controls station. A distraction would be needed.

Fishing for her communicator, Meira crouched back down behind her crate. "In position." she whispered. "Ready to activate the beacon on your go."

[Ysmir]

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Macen quipped, pushing himself to his feet. "Good luck." He nodded to her and smiled; at the very least, if something did go wrong, it'd make for a good story.

---

The duo parted ways. Macen sprung upward and into the air with a Force-assisted jump, landing on the rafters above the central chamber. From there, he tip-toed across until he could drop down onto the catwalk, where a path north led further into the bowels of this secret facility in the hills.

The deeper Macen went, the more apparent it became that this was the latest in many base-of-operations for the clandestine mercenary band. Exposed wiring jutted from panels in the cramped halls where slicers and mechanics attempted to make hasty repairs, aesthetics be damned. Every bit of work done on this place seemed jury rigged and rushed, submitting entirely to a "good enough" mentality for fear that they may need to relocate again in the near future. And yet, despite this, the work was masterfully done, at least to Macen's relatively untrained eye. It was clear they had become quite good at this over the months since the end of the Archeri Crisis.

The hallway opened up into a central hub of doorways stretching out in four different directions, but the map earlier indicated what he sought lay forward, straight ahead. A similarly long and narrow hallway continued on further and further, and the Jedi found himself growing somewhat claustrophobic as he neared the end. A weathered and blackened metallic door separated him from what he hoped was his goal. A single flickering light hung over it, threatening to give out at any moment, hanging just over a spot in the ceiling where the paneling had fallen.

Macen pressed his hand to the door and closed his eyes. He reached out through the Force, opening his senses to the area around him.

Far across the base, to the east, he could feel Meira. She was scouting quite like he was; calm, in control. The ease with which she floated through her task helped to calm his own nerves somewhat. Across the threshold of the doorway, Macen sensed another sentient lifeform; a Weequay with an ornery temperament, angrily typing away on a holoscreen. He had been trying - and failing - to reprogram the faulty security turrets that lay dormant throughout the facility. Macen couldn't divine much from the being's surface level thoughts, but he could tell that this had been an issue for several days. Unreliable security measures boded well for he and Meira if things got dicey.

Macen stepped back from the door and looked up at the missing ceiling panel. With a silent boost from the Force, he leapt up and grasped tightly onto the edge of the square. He hoisted himself through the hole and into the crawlspace above, an area which acted as added insulation for the facility's interior. He inched along on his forearms until he sensed the Weequay directly below him. In his ear, his communicator buzzed to life with his partner's voice.

"Copy," he whispered back, carefully lifting the panel in front of him from its place, revealing the main computer room below. The Weequay slicer grumbled to himself and shook his head as another attempt to fix the code failed. "Just a moment. Have to confer with IT about a problem."

Macen dropped through the hole feetfirst, landing on the Weequay's shoulders. He grasped the guard's neck between his ankles and twisted in mid-air, bringing the being down to the floor with him headfirst. The blow knocked the poor sod out like a light. Getting to his feet, he took a quick glance around; no cameras. What lay before him were numerous consoles displaying seismic data, weather information, GDP margins for Atlas and the city as a whole, and various other displays and graphs which made little sense to him. He took a seat at the command console and reached into a container at his side. From it, he withdrew the multitool given by the Atlas Corp slicer, infected with a program meant to override any firewalls they might have put up and terminate their communications array.

Macen lifted a finger to his ear. "Alright, I'm at the command center," Macen relayed to Meira, "ready to start the upload. Get that beacon lit and get those fuel lines fried."

[Meira]

"Just a moment. Have to confer with IT about a problem."

Meira pursed her lips to avoid making any sound as she chuckled. Shaking her head, she turned her eyes back on the depot. To her left, a cargo net still held several medium sized crates that had apparently been lifted from a transport. It hung from a crane that could pivot to just about any point in the depot, including...

"That'll do." Meira whispered to herself, one side of her mouth quirking up in a smile.

A few moments later, Macen confirmed he was ready. Meira took the beacon and twisted it, activating the signal. She then stuck it into a crack in the the stone wall, as far from the fuel station as possible. She was fairly sure that, even if the ensuing chaos destroyed it, the Atlas guards would have gotten all they needed. It wasn't as if the base would move after they picked up the ping, after all. Moving away from the wall, Meira then focused her mind on the crane and the net full of crates that it held. She reached out, giving the crane a nice shove through the Force and causing it to swing wildly to the side. The force of the push swung the netted crates out slightly and they collided against a speeder that had been propped up by a lift. The speeder, knocked off balance, tumbled backward. The collision broke the netting, causing the crates to fall as well. The depot was filled with the sound of crashing metal and plasteel. There was a moment where the workers all stopped, gawking at the sudden disturbance to their domain. Then, the Kel Dor's voice rose above everything, shouting for the workers to get over there and start sorting the mess out.

The Kel Dor, their assistant, and the various mechanics rushed over. The Kel Dor continued to bark orders and the rest rushed to heed them. It was a very easy thing indeed for Meira to circle around behind them all and get closer to the fuel station. As she moved, she spotted the speeder bike they'd arrived on, hooked up at the end of the line of vehicles. The Force, it seemed, was indeed on their side this night. With a smile, Meira nimbly uncoupled the bike from the line. She'd have to be quick to get on it and navigate back to the main garage, but she would rely on the escalating chaos to aid her in the attempt.

"Beacon activated. Fuel line sabotage in three... two... one..." Meira said into her comms as she flipped every switch and turned every dial on the station to what appeared to indicate maximum levels of... well, anything and everything. The console protested, beginning to issues beeps and alarms as well as flash several red warning lights. One screen indicated automatic shutdown but Meira slammed her fist down on a key when she saw the command for override. A new alarm blared, this one triggering a rotating red light overhead. This caught the attention of the workers, who all turned to see what new catastrophe had befallen them. They caught a glimpse of dreadlocked hair as Meira leapt onto the speederbike and revved it up. They managed some shouts, and even some wild blaster shots, but she was quick and out the door to the main garage before they could catch up. But not for long.

"I've got our ride." she said, breathless into the comm. "But they saw me. We need to get out of here fast."

[Ysmir]

In the security hub, lights began flashing like a Life Day tree. Macen took this as his signal.

Tapping the command key, Macen began the upload from the hacking daemon. Software beyond his trivial understanding of computing began to infest the entire network that the mercenary thugs had spent many moons setting up, sifting through every firewall and tearing them down with reckless abandon. The system tried to deny it access, but to no avail; the Atlas hacker's code worked tried and true to its mission. In its desperation to prevent entry, the several screens began flashing with walls of code all their own; some even switched off from their surveillance and began to show images of entirely different files.

One, in particular, was a galaxy map, though one unlike Macen had ever seen before. Curiously, the Jedi took a step closer to it. On the map were seven coordinates; three in the Outer Rim, two in the Core, two in the Expansion Region, and one in particular isolated in wild space -- the Unknown Regions. More than that, it seemed to sit somewhere that was almost entirely impossible. Although unmapped, pioneers knew enough about wild space to know where there were voids in space. Its location was one of them. This anomaly was noteworthy enough for Macen to decide this was worth saving. From his survival pack, he removed an electrocam to snap a quick photo of the image before it fell to static and was wiped away by walls of code.

Sliding the device away, Macen lifted a finger to his ear as Meira's voice buzzed through the comm.

"Roger. I'll be leaving--", Macen began, but was distracted by a flickering of the lights.

Before he could finish his thought, the lights all flashed off in unison -- then, as though renewed, all came back on at once again. For a moment, there was the briefest and most uncomfortable of silences as Macen looked around in confusion.

On the central monitor, a single phrase flashed -- UPLOAD COMPLETE.

Then all Hell broke loose.

The system reset caused by the hacker's daemon shut down the communications array -- but it also triggered the security system. The very same security system the unconscious Weequay on the floor had been trying to unsuccessfully bring back online. The daemon, paradoxically, was their panacea. Alarms blared throughout the entire base, and from the ceilings above Macen (and Meira on her way to the garage), defense turrets unfolded and took sight of the only targets yet available.

Them.

Macen's eyes widened, but he reacted swiftly enough to call his lightsaber to his palm and activate it. The blade sprung alive just as the turrets began firing at Macen in tandem, and he whirred his weapon about his body with precision, backpedaling toward the sealed door as he deflected each blaster bolt away.

"We've got a problem! The turrets are online!" Macen's back pressed against the sealed door. Deflecting the hail of bolts wouldn't work forever.

So he improvised.

Drawing his arms in, a telekinetic bubble formed around his body, its integrity tested as it absorbed the first few turret bolts that came its way. Focusing, Macen drew in power from the air around him; smaller objects such as pens, tools, datapads, and mugs in the security office began to orbit his spherical chamber as though attracted to a stellar body. Then, with a downward thrust of his arms, a telekinetic explosion of the Force emitted from his body. The wave of Force harmlessly pushed the sleeping Weequay into the wall (though he may wake with somewhat of a headache). However, it had more devastating effects on the environment; the turrets were ripped from their emplacements and thrown against the wall, and the sealed door behind him had been punctured and blown outward, providing an ample enough space for him to leap through. And leap through he did.

"I have to go loud. I'll meet you in the garage!", Macen spoke to his ally. As he stood in the corridor from prior, several armed thugs began to advance toward him and the security room from further down the hall. He hoisted his lightsaber up.

"-- or try."

The Force was not on their side this night.