For just a moment, as Dak came at him, there was a glint of something in Rhijans' eye...those who didn't know him well might have read it as anger, or rising to a challenge.

Dak wasn't an experienced brawler, though, and he telegraphed his intention with the big wind-up...Rhijans moved with the push, not trying to resist it, focusing on keeping his legs underneath him and moving until he ran out of momentum.

He ran out of floor, first, and came up hard against the wall of the hangar cavern, with an audible thud.  His head smacked hard against the stone, and pain flared his vision with red for a moment.

The look returned, unplanned, and he could only hope in retrospect that nobody had a chance to notice it.  Dangerous approval...Damn, this kid really IS good at this, he told himself.

But they couldn't escalate it too far.  That would get base security involved, and that could sour the whole thing.  They needed a plausible way to extricate from the moment, get some distance...give the rumor mill time to get word to the spy, if that person wasn't already in the hangar and seeing the events personally.

"Juragga," he said, coldly, holding the back of his head.  He checked his hand...he was fairly certain he wasn't actually bleeding, but it still hurt enough up there that blood could be trickling down his head and he wouldn't feel it.  No blood...good...

"You better take your buddy somewhere and let him cool down, before I decide to show him the color of his own innards."  He checked his hand again, this time leaving it hovering near the holstered blaster at his side.

With a powerful roar, Juragga interposed himself between Dak and Rhijans, hooting in fury and baring fangs as Rhijans' hand dipped near his gun.  Then, over his shoulder, he gobbled something along the lines of "Calm down," to Dak, still (apparently) hoping to preserve the peace.  But his presence near the kid was unmistakeably defensive.  Wrong or right, Dak held his honor-debt... and that was something a Wookiee would die for.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Sat 14 Sept 2013.

Collas doesn't look even slightly phased by Haarmon's outburst.  She turns to watch as the situation devolves into a mostly one-sided brawl in the middle of the hangar.  Everybody else in the place too.  It seems that if Haarmon was looking for a large audience, he couldn't have picked a better place to get one.

Even the angry pilot stops to watch.

Juragga manages to break it up easily enough, of course.  There looks to be some disappointment at that.  Wookiees in a brawl make for good entertainment.

Collas shakes her head.  "Go back to your quarters and calm down." she orders Haarmon, "Once you're in control of yourself, report to my office."

Shard's tired.

It's a good tired, though, for a change.  An hour spent running through some serious isometrics...well, serious might be a stretch, as her body simply can't handle what it used to, but exercise either way.  An attempt at meditation that failed, miserably, but a try nonetheless.  And five minutes of going through her old combat training in her head.  She should have done more, but for starter's she's lacking an actual training partner.

Plus, igniting and waving around the murder-stick is a good way to attract the kind of attention she doesn't want.

As she moves back through the base, on the way to her quarters to clean up, she catches the distant howl of strikefighters, accompanied by the basso thrum of a transport.  It sounds off, somehow.  Frowning, the rebel heads toward the hanger.  More bad news?

Then it goes from bad to worse as she walks in just in time to see Rhijans picking himself up and Juragga inserting himself between Haarmon and the bounty-hunter.  "Ooooo, void," the woman mutters, brushing her sweat-dampened hair back from her forehead.

Just for a second, for a half-a-second, Haarmon thought maybe he'd gone too far. He saw Rhijans' hand go to his blaster and then the mighty shadow of Juragga came between them and he heard the Wookie roar out his disapproval. And he didn't even want to think about a fight between the two of them. And the anger he was projecting boiled and roiled in his belly and all he could hope was that everyone was still just playing along.

But whether or no, he saw the opening that Rhjans and Juragga gave him, hopefully on purpose, and it was a good one.

So he took it.

He blinked a couple of times, took a breath. Stepped away. And another step.

"Calm down," he said, sort of toward Collas, voice a little hoarse from the yelling, "Yeah. That's aces. Calm down."

And another step back. He kept his gaze on the ground, mostly to look like he was ashamed of himself.

"I'll go. And calm down. But I don't think I'll be reporting to anyone's office. Not now. Maybe not ever."

He started walking down the corridor toward his quarters. Stopped. Looked back.

"You comin', Rags? Or you stayin' with the whitecoats?"

Whichever way Juragga chose had its advantages. And it was all for show anyway. But secretly, he was hoping the Wookie would come with him. Jokes about preschool aside, he was feeling a little unhinged, and didn't want to be alone.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:54, Mon 23 Sept 2013.

Juragga watched Haarmon walk away with a tilted head and a sad, almost puzzled expression.  But when the kid asked if he was coming, he hooted back belligerantly, "Of course I'm coming!" as if there had never been any doubt.

The wookiee ambled after the slicer.

Collas watches as Haarmon and Juragga walk away from the confrontation with Rhijans.  She looks at the latter, shakes her head  and simply says, "You too." and starts to walk of, slowly.

After about three or four paces, she stops and gives Rhijans a curious look before adding, "Go to the infirmary first and get checked over, you hit that wall pretty hard."

Haarmon, meanwhile exits the hangar, heading for his quarters, with most, if not all, eyes watching him, and Juragga in tow.  Whether he realises that Shard witnessed the whole thing, and is unaware of the plan, is not clear.

Rhijans glared at Collas for a moment...the moment demanded some kind of show of defiance, and he felt like Dak had shouldered his fair share.  Disgruntled Alliance operative, waiting to be enticed into a compromising situation...the only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been if Juragga had walked away, as well, leaving Dak isolated.

And even in that, it still turned out well...Dak, alone, would have looked too appealing, suspiciously so.

"I'm fine..." he growled in response to the order to get checked over.  Yes, he'd hit the wall hard...but he'd taken worse and walked away.  And even if he hadn't, it would be unlike him to so easily be directed after a confrontation such as this...though he was likely the only one present to know himself that well.

Still...best to play it true to form, rather than try to play out what would make the most appealing outcome for whoever their spy was.

Without waiting to hear whether Collas wanted to argue with him about the infirmary visit, he turned and left, in another direction.  He managed to camoflage his satisfaction with a feral grimace.  The predatory expression was natural...he was hunting now, and Dak had just set himself up as bait, on the move.  Give the kid about four or five hours, then start shadowing him, and see who starts paying too much attention to him...

He preferred going after someone who was clearly known as being a problem, rather than having to flush the problem out...but it had been a long time since he'd had a hunt.  Having to set the wheels in motion to find out who his target was?  It was just a little extra prep work, this time...

Shard glances after Haarmon and Juragga, her jaw set.  In the end, things have come to naught, but that doesn't mean it's over.  Should she follow Haarmon, or Rhijans?  In the end, it comes down to numbers, plain and simple.  Haarmon has Juragga with him; Rhijans is alone.  Picking up her feet, the still-sweaty woman hurries after the dusky-skinned man.

"Rhijans!  Hang on!"  Jogging is taking it out of her after the recent exercise.  Hopefully she can get some kind of explanation about what just happened, and not the customary stony silence.

Curse it all, I'd just gotten on a team I'd liked, to boot...

The shakes hit about two minutes after Haarmon started walking away. The adrenaline faded and he hit the wall, hard. Just like on the moon. Or in the mine. Heck, just like Senior School. More things change... he thought miserably.

"Nerve of that nerf-lover," he said, not at all displeased with how much his voice was shaking, "Thinking he's got all the answers. To the Void with him, and the rest of them too. You hear what I'm sayin' Rags?"

A pause.

"And you see Shard there? Huh? At the end?" A slightly different tremble hit his voice at the thought. "Just watched. Probably thinks I'm a grade-A chump now. And no one to tell her different." That last was probably more truth than con.

He looked up at Juragga. The Wookie's large, lumbering shape was reassuring.

"Glad you came, though. Woulda been a long, hard dramatic flounce all by my lone. You know what I'm sayin?"

That was truth too.

Well, this will take care of finding Shard to explain what's going on...  He was pretty sure she wasn't going to be pleased, especially if he mentioned that his initial idea was to have her play the bait, but there'd been no time to track her down and sell the idea.

He paused, waiting for her to catch up without turning to look back at her.  As she got close enough to hear, he asked in a low voice, "Is there anyone walking after Dak?"  His tone was wary, concerned...and utterly devoid of the hostility one would expect after such a confrontation.

His plan...if anything happened to Dak for being a part of it, he would never forgive himself.

The response brings her up short.  Whoop.  Something's up.  Shard fires a glance over her shoulder - not an unexpected thing, if anyone could be watching, and from the question and Rhijans' tone, that might be the case.  "Didn't see anyone," she mutters, turning back and spreading her palms wide in a 'what the void gives?' posture.

"You mind telling me just what's going on?" she continues, still reasonably quietly, her body language just a touch at-odds with her calm tone.  Forced calm; she's still stressed, but with something going on, it doesn't make sense to pressure Rhijans.

Plus, there's always the possibility that what she saw was real, in which case...it still doesn't make sense to pressure Rhijans.

Following after Dak, Juragga saw the kid was still deep into 'the part'.  Without knowing exactly who or what was listening in, that was probably smart.  Juragga was savvy enough to play along.

"RRRROooooWWWRRrrrrhhhH," he commented mildly, easily keeping pace with the frenetic Dak.  Of course he'd come along.  Didn't Dak know that by now? And as for the others, who cared what they thought?  This entire thing was turning into a bad deal.

"GrrrRRRRuuuuhHHHHnNN," he added.  He'd only joined in to try to find and free his family, and any other Wookiees he could.  So far?  He'd found exactly ZERO.

"AWWWWwwwwhhhhhrr," he amended.  That wasn't exactly true.  He'd also joined because Dak had, and he owed the kid a Wookiee honor-debt. He hadn't forgotten. He never would.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Mon 23 Sept 2013.

"C'mon...can't talk about it here," Rhijans said in a low mutter.  His lips barely moved as he spoke...a deliberate choice, just in case...

He began walking, waiting a few paces to make sure Shard was coming along before he began to explain.  "We realized that we could spend forever and a day chasing after every individual around here who had some kind of suspicious look or incident or behavior pattern...many of us here have been under suspicion for so long that it's inherent in us to look suspicious to someone who's looking for that.

So I came up with the idea of baiting our spy...give them a disgruntled Alliance operative, someone they could hit up for information or try to persuade to help them.  My original notion was to use you...but there was no time, and Dak had a notion that he could make himself an attractive target for such approaches."

By this time, they were clear of the hangar area, and Rhijans turned more to face Shard as he explained the situation to her.  "He's put himself out there...the frustrated kid who doesn't get enough respect from command or even from his own team.  If this spy is as good as they seem to be, details about stuff he's done in the last couple of operations will show he's resourceful and inventive...probably under-utilized and definitely under-appreciated, generally speaking.  Someone wanting to dismantle our operations here would see him as really tempting fruit, waiting to be picked."

He sighed...and a hint of the concern that he had carefully been masking shone through for just a moment.  "We just have to make sure that whoever picks him doesn't get a chance to squeeze him dry.  So, we watch, carefully, from a distance...or, at least, I watch, because now my eyes on him will look like me waiting for a chance to get even.  You become the wild-card, at this point...nobody's quite sure what to make of you, but if you're seen appearing too concerned for too long, nobody's going to buy that he's really turned against us.  If you're too callous too soon, it'll become suspicious.  You've got to figure out how to look like you're trying to get him to come back without compromising what he's already done."  His voice stayed low and terse, and if anyone approached too nearly, he stopped talking until they were out of earshot again.

"We can't let the Colonel know about this...for all we know, the spy is part of his personal staff and any word will blow the whole operation.  If anyone approaches us about it, all we can do is tell them that we'll handle it...and sound like that means that we'll step in and eliminate him if he turns against the Alliance.  Otherwise, if Kourene gets nervous about him, our watching him may be for nothing."

"All right," Shard replies, shaking her head.  It helps clear away some of the cobwebs of amazement, as well as possibly presenting the proper picture to people's perceptions.  Pacing after Rhijans, she ponders his plans.

The picture he paints positively petrifies*.

"I should probably say something witty and grumpy about you wanting to use me for this situation, but I'm too busy trying to stuff my heart back into my chest."  Her lips thin.  "Haarmon showed some good material back at that base, though.  Chips are down, he has come through every time.  And it suits him." Her face scrunches up as if Shard has bitten into a lemon.  Or perhaps a hot pepper.  "Cursed balancing act is what it is, from what you're saying, and you're right.  I'll have to go talk to HIM next, I guess."  This said with a wave of both arms, one hand almost clouting Rhijans in the head.

It's only partly an act.

"Hopefully the colonel won't do something...precipitous**.  Like break up the team."  Her fist clenches.  "Hot void, if I hadn't gone and gotten all steamed, we could have all chatted about this together.  But just to be in on it.  It's a good plan, Rhijans.  A good one, if a little risky."  She purses her lips in a thoughtful moue.  "Knew there was a reason I was glad to be on this team."

* Okay, finished.

** No, seriously.  Don't worry.  :)

Haarmon gave his friend a relieved look. He figured that, if anyone was watching, relieved would be a reasonable thing for him to be feeling. He did feel alone, though. He wished he had Rhijans nearby to help him through how to act and what to say and what to do now. Having Juragga was wonderful, but the big Wookie wasn't exactly your A-one go-to-guy when it comes to subtle manipulations and deceptions. His answer was pretty much always 'rip someone's arm off and quaff a brew.'

Which sounded like a pretty sweet idea right about now.

"So what do we do now, huh? Rags?" His voice was still pretty ragged from yelling, and it sounded pretty good to him, "Can't go back there. Pack of Void-cursed bastards. not one of them got the sense to come in out of a meteor shower. Maybe it's time we cast off?"

Haarmon and Juragga continue through the corridors of the base, and realise that the place seems oddly empty now.  The few people they see are heading towards the hangar, most of them hurrying.  The ones who aren't hurrying towards the hangar mainly seem to be busy with their own tasks.

Nobody seems to be standing about doing nothing, or acting suspicious.

Shard and Rhijans are discovering the same thing on their own travels through the base.  A lot of activity which could probably be described as a sort of "controlled panic".

"Coming through!"  Footsteps run up behind the slicer and his Wookiee, companion, and they turn just in time to see a pair of medics go past with an injured woman on a repulsorlift pallet, pulled in to do service as a makeshift gurney.  Headed towards the infirmary.  There seems to be a lot of blood, and the woman looks badly burned.

Crossing one of the wider corridors, intended to provide external cargo access to the hanger, Shard and Rhijans find that their discussion is drowned out by the grating of metal from a little way down the tunnel.  The blast doors, normally left sting open to allow easy passage to and from the base, are being closed, and are noisilly objecting to the process...

Juragga chuffs uncertainly in reply to Haarmon, but then steps aside to make way for the injured woman.  He watched her go with sad teal eyes, then turned back to his friend.

"RrRRRRRrrrfffmmmmfff," he warbled.  He didn't like to quit things, but he wasn't stupid.  If this wasn't working, if they were just being used as cannon fodder against a hopeless cause...

Rhijans' face twitched.  "Well, I'd say that's a bad sign," he growled in a low voice.  He searched the hurrying bodies for someone who seemed to perhaps be in charge, settling on someone who appeared to have just concluded some kind of commlink call as they glanced at a datapad.

"What's going on?" he asked.  It was almost a demand...but toned down enough to show some degree of consideration for the person he'd just side-tracked from whatever they were doing.

Void.

Shard's hands slide over her over-cloak, checking and testing.  She has - thank goodness - divested herself of all of the paraphenalia she wore in her time as 'Nimadda', but the quick search indicates that, yes, out of habit she hung the murder-stick from its usual loop.  Her pistol?  No, not when exercising.

"Either something bad happened elsewhere and the fallout is just arriving," she mutters as Rhijans questions a passerby, "or the bad is coming here.  Now." Up comes her comlink, set to her group's channel.  "Jalt.  You around?"  It's always possible he's still on the base, and still has his comm with him.  Active.

It's a cursed shame her mentor-in-killing never saw fit to teach her anything about grabbing visions from the future, because that would have come in really handy right about now.

"There's a ship... " the man indicates the closing blast door, "... down in the hangar.  It got shot up by Imperials, but made it home with a load of medical supplies and blaster cells and explosives.  They got it into the hangar before the drive died, and then they found out that something is burning inside it.  They're trying to get it unloaded before the fire reaches the cargo hold.  If they don't then this base will just be a crater."

"We don't even have any ships home for an evacuation."


Meanwhile, elsewhere in the base, Haarmon and Juragga finally reach the slicer's quarters.  They step inside and continue their discussion.  Or they try to - they're barely in there for a minute before somebody pounds on the door.  Hard...

Juragga responds with a snarl through the door that is a mix of "What do you want" and "Go away".

There was no good translation for the expletive Rhijans muttered, but the sound of it left little doubt.  Would have been nice for someone to mention there was a fire to be put out, instead of just saying, 'Hey, go help them...' he grumbled to himself.  He shot a glance back toward the hangar, to see if the doors were still open enough for him to get back in there.

If his life was going to be hanging by a tenuous thread, dependent on efforts to extinguish a fire, he wanted at least some of those efforts to be his own.

Haarmon starts at the sudden pounding. And maybe he made a scared little squeak at the same time. Maybe. It was hard to tell with all the knocking. Surely not, though, surely tough Alliance undercover agents didn't squeal like little Kowakian monkey lizards when someone just knocked on the door.

But he did sort of jerk up in his chair. Perfectly natural reaction, after all. Not that he was startled. No. He was just ready for action. Yeah. totally ready.

He smirked at Juragga and gave him the thumbs up. He was constantly amazed at how many different shades of meaning the big guy could cram into a single warble. Maybe he should be the undercover agent.

"You heard the Wookie," he called out, not at all kindly, "We're not receiving any guests at the moment. Tea trolly's all put away. Drawing room's closed up. Go sell crazy some place else. We're all stocked up here."

Shard's thin eyebrows ratchet higher and higher.  "Seriously?" she finally chokes out, almost comically.  The woman struggles against an irrational desire to beat herself over the head with the short stick of metal she carries beneath her cloak, and a simultaneous - and less irrational - craving to pound back a few ounces of Zidran Ice Brandy.

Fortunately rationality wins the former, and she no longer carries what she requires for the latter.

"Hot void," the older woman hisses.  "We've got to get in there...or do something to help, because I'm not going to sit here waiting to die," she snaps, eyeing the closing door.  Making a decision, Shard breaks into a run for the portal.  "Gotta make it through now!"

If it should close, the killing tool she carries could cut through it...eventually.  "But that would leave a cursed big hole in the blast door," Shard mutters.  Any explosion inside would turn the door into a cannon, with the blast channelled straight out the hole.  Unacceptable.