As soon as the droids are aboard, Rhijans Thanus edges the vehicle out of the way, towards the building's exit, closely followed by the swoops.  If the worst happens, at least from there it's a short dash to the street, and pursuing stormtroopers will have a harder job keeping up once the vehicle is out in the open, and is able to use a little speed.

There is a nice view from there of the area directly outside the structure, and Shard, Mark Jacobs and Shisskurr are clearly visible, now only about 75 metres away and approaching at a fast walk.

They stand out, quite nicely, against the backdrop of white stormtrooper armour, only about fifty metres beyond them.

Every other person in the street, except one, is scattering to avoid the troopers.  That one, a woman wearing a black jumpsuit and a long, dark brown coat, appears to be leading them.

Rhijans slowed the transport a bit, not quite sure of what to do.  He let the vehicle coast for a moment as he grabbed his commlink.

"[COMM] I hope that parade coming up the street behind you isn't for us," he quipped.  "I'm pretty sure nobody in our detachment of this little enterprise is deserving of full military honors..."  He scowled as he tried to make out whether the stormtroopers...or the black-clad individual leading them...seemed to be focused on the trio.  It could just be coincidence that they were all headed the same way at the same time...but Rhijans wasn't generally inclined to buy into coincidences.

"[COMM] You want us to sit tight and wait for you, or come pick you up?"  Trying to pick the point of focus of a stormtrooper formation over 120 meters away was kind of like trying to shoot a starship out of orbit with a hand-blaster, he realized.

"No time to split off now," Shard mutters, snagging Jacobs' arm and continuing on their way (assuming Jacobs allows this).  She listens as the pilot's comm snaps and crackles with Rhijans' query, even as the place between her shoulderblades itches.  She doesn't dare focus, doesn't dare concentrate, no matter how much she wants to do so.

Not with that woman behind her.

"We'll come to them," she hisses.  "Nobody drives toward that many stormtroopers, and we don't want to look like we're in a hurry.  Just tell them to make sure the cursed repulsors are warmed up."  Her fingers itch for the feel of smooth metal, and she stuffs both hands beneath her heavy, rainproof cloak.  One fingernail on her left hand taps against her flask, and Shark resists the urge to pull it and drink.

Her right hand touches cold steel of a different sort, and bile's bitterness taints her mouth.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:07, Tue 04 Jan 2011.

"Alright, alright." Mark replied as he followed Shard toward the transport. Got a bad feeling about this.

The trio reach the transport, with the troopers still a good fifty metres behind.  Neary has the hatch open, ready for them to climb aboard, and Rhijans guns the motor even before it has closed behind them.

The transport and the two swoops surge forward, into the street, and veer away from the approaching stormtroopers, forced to pass within about twenty metres of the woman who leads them.  She is öf average height, and slim build, with mousy hair and a face which looks as though it doesn't smile often enough.  Her clothing is black, for the most part, interspersed with dark greys and blues.  In her right hand, she carries a short metal bar or cylinder.

As the vehicles move off, accelerating rapidly (but not too rapidly) she pauses to look at them, and her frown deepens, momentarily...

Rhijans kept his eyes scanning the city around them.  Now that it appeared their getaway was in process, he didn't want to jam the works by crashing into someone or something.  But he had to know...

"So, what did you learn as you were out scouting around?  And why the hell did you have enough stormtroopers to level the city following you?"  He called it out over his shoulder, his eyes never turning away from the course ahead.  It was the reverse of the route they'd come in on, backtracking the path that had been seemingly travelled just a short while earlier--and weeks ago, as the analytical part of his mind had stretched out every instant of the entire time they'd been in town, scouring each moment for any tell-tale indicator that things were going sour.  He was careful to keep his speed at or just slightly above the speed of traffic around him, trying as best he knew how to appear to be nothing more than a delivery vehicle trying to keep on schedule.

"Nothing good."  Shard stares out the back window of the van, studying the woman as she vanishes into the distance.  What is she doing, working with Stormtroopers?  Nauseated, feeling the universe turning over on her, the woman turns and slowly slides down into the seat.  "Everything I've got to say, people will figure is crazy.  Let's just get our equipment and get out of here."

It made no sense.  Whatever she thought of them, Shard would never picture one of the jedi as an Imperial Envoy.  Until now.

The small convoy moves on, heading away from the stormtroopers and their search.  Just as the vehicles swing around a corner, the last few gleaming white suits of armour can be seen vanishing into the customs building.  There is no sign of the dark clothed woman, though that might just be a matter of distance.

Before too long, they pass through the protective shield and are, once more, outside the city.

But almost as a reminder that it's probably best not to get too cocky, just yet, a group of TIE bombers can be seen circling high overhead...

Rhijans shrugged at Shard's reply, and stayed tight-lipped for the rest of the drive out of town, keeping an eye on the rear-view until the stormtroopers had all vanished from sight.  He relaxed a bit as it appeared they'd made good their escape...no alarms sounded, no Imperial blockades appeared in front of them, and he relaxed even more as they exited the city.

The TIE bombers circling above reminded him that they weren't out of this whole situation yet, however.  He opened the throttle up gently, speeding up to a standard cruising speed, doing his best to appear to be just another innocuous vehicle making a transit from one city to the other.  At this point, there was really not much more to be done, however.  As they proceeded onward, he reviewed their trip thus far, and reached for his commlink.

"[COMM]Okay, gents, we should be passing back under those floating things pretty soon...hopefully, they stay the same altitude or go higher, as the day goes on, but be ready for 'em.  And with a little luck, our friendly neighborhood swoop gangers will have decided that they've had enough trouble today and gone home by the time we get there."

Still lost in thought, Shard jerks at Rhijans' assessment of their situation.  Pushing back, she cranes her neck to see out the window behind herself, then curses softly.  "Not a thing I can do about those," the woman mutters, fumbling around in her cloak.  Out comes the flask, and she takes a long, slow drink.

Still the image of the woman sits in her mind.

Not going to drive it out that way, Shard.  The flask vanishes, and she settles herself back. "Guess we wait and see."  Now she raises her voice, aiming for the forward compartment.  "Did we get what we came for?"

Rhijans shrugged, calling back over his shoulder.  "As far as I know...I mean, we didn't crack open every crate to check, but the one we looked in had what we were after..."

He shrugged again.  The droid had been the one in charge, and it hadn't tried to take them anywhere else...he figured that meant they'd done what they'd been sent to do.

The trio of vehicles cross the first pass, and descend into the broad vale beyond.

The large floating creatures have moved along a little, and are now mostly spread out downwind of the roadway.  The nearest is about a half kilometre away as the rebels pass them, and barely visible through the dense foliage of the forest and the mist of spores and seeds.

A convoy of about a dozen cargo transports goes by at a good speed, headed in the opposite direction, towards Ker Aldas.  From the variety of markings on them, they look to belong to several different businesses.

As soon as the traffic is left behind, the swoop piloted by Reldan Jalt moves up alongside the transport, and the comm system crackles to life.

"Want me to scout ahead a little way, just in case?"

Neary, sitting quietly up against a wall and tinkering with Wheely listens to the others and finally, without looking up, says "Wonder who they were actually looking for?"

She doubts it was someone not too important, or they would not have called in all those forces.  Perhaps a berserker Ewok.  Or maybe an acrobatic Hutt cat-burglar.  She chuckles at the images popping into her mind, although she doubts any of them fits.

An equipment locker in the rear of the transport pops open, and a voice comes from it, "Ah...  That would be me."

Both of Shard's hands disappear inside her cloak, and she stands, swaying slightly in the speeding vehicle.  Great.  Careful, Shard.  You'll end up doing the imperials' job for them if you're not careful.

At least it wasn't them the imperials were after...maybe.

"Now would be a good time to come out very, very slowly with your hands in view," she states, cycling back through her memories to see if they've said anything hugely incriminating over the last few minutes.

"And why the hell did you have enough stormtroopers to level the city following you?"

"Did we get what we came for?"

It's not...horrible, but it's enough to pique a stowaway's curiousity.

It was only with the greatest of efforts that Rhijans kept his hands on the controls, instead of grabbing for his blaster and covering who or whatever had spoken.  Dammit...I KNEW this was going too smoothly...

At least whoever it was couldn't be Imperial.  Why put someone on the transport and then have it fly out past an entire formation of stormtroopers?  Why, indeed, Rhijans mused.  His suspicious mind could think of a few dozen reasons.

Thus far, however, it sounded like Shard had things under control...with Jacobs and Shisskurr to back her up, Rhijans didn't fear much for anyone trying to take control of the transport.  They had the internal problems in hand...he needed to focus outside.

"[COMM]Yeah, Jalt, if you can make sure we don't have a welcoming committee waiting just over the rise, that'd be great.  We'll still have to go through them, but if we know they're waiting, we can go in guns blazing instead of waiting for them to shoot first."  He tried to keep the testy edge out of his voice...it wouldn't do for the pilot to be distracted by wondering what was going wrong in the transport.  If the swoop gangers were laying in wait, Jalt might need all his attention on getting clear again.

"Your presense places us in great danger," Jihon Mogg says. "Please, do us the courtesy of showing yourself."

Threats ... warnings ... demands ... he senses that none of these mattered much to their guest.

"We won't try to kill you as long as you don't try to kill us."

From behind the locker door a pair of orange hands shot forth, boasting spread fingers.

"See? Nothing there!" The girlie voice carried a cheerful tone. "Ready or not, here I come!"

More orange followed, first the arms then the rest of the orange Twi'lek.  Once free of the locker she, for it was indeed a female, smiled and waved at the group before her.

"Hiya! I'm Tfalta Dawl! A pleasure to meet you!"

The outfit, while sparse, was not the style most Twi'lek were given to wear, but more functional. At her left hip a single metallic cylinder could be seen. A dancer she was not.

Standing up at the first sound from the locker Neary reaches for her gun, but does not draw it.  At least not yet.

"What the?  How the...?  Where'd you come from?" she asks, trying to figure out how she could have missed someone coloured brightly orange sneaking into the transport.

"The Twi'lek they were looking for," Shard breathes.  She glances at the woman's hip, then stabs a finger at the metal tube.  "There," she states authoratively, throwing a look at Jacobs.  "I told you I heard one of those cursed things."

Hands still under her cloak, she stalks forward to face the cheerful little killing machine.  "It was you that woman was chasing.  Thank you so much for bringing her attention down on us.  So why?  Beyond you cutting up a bunch of troopers, that is."

And being what you are.

"Yes, please," Mogg says, planting two hands on his hips and tilting his head forward. Less cheerful pleasantry and more answers would be appreciated for moment. Pleased to meet you, of course, but I say again you have us in danger. Explain, please."

Rhijans snarled quietly to himself.  "HEY!!!" he yelled out, hoping to get someone's attention.

"For the benefit of those of us who CAN'T LOOK BACK THERE, would someone tell me what the blazes is going on?"  As if to punctuate his words, the transport wobbled just a bit, the vehemence of his yelling causing him to pull every-so-slightly at one control.