"Aw, man, sorry Rags," Haarmon muttered as they walked toward the exit. "I forget how sensitive your nose is." He felt pretty bad. But he knew it had to be done. The Greater Good, and all that.

He looked around at the hangar. The sheer scale of the vessel amazed and intimidated him. He knew he'd feel better once he was plugged in: networks are all the same size. But for now he just felt lost. And was happy that he was with people who knew how to get things done in the real world.

"I've never been inside a Star Destroyer before," he said in response to Rhijans' question about where to set him up. "So I don't know how the network is set up. I need an office or alcove somewhere I can get a sense for things. Hit up some help files and some FAQ's. Anywhere quiet is fine for that. And we need maps and specs if we're going to get anything done."

As he walked he looked around to see if there was a terminal somewhere close by that was out-of-the-way enough to let him get some work done.

Juragga did his best to play up the "broken slave" bit, whimpering and shuffling after the others.  But his teal eyes scanned his path, and he tracked where they were going carefully.

Still queasy, Shard is more-than content to play the part of the subordinate, trailing after the group while taking a wide detour around Juragga's puddle.  One arm rises to pat the Wookie on the tricep, probably the highest place she can easily reach without stretching.  "This...this is actually good," she mutters.  "Beyond the spectacular diversion, niceoneHarmon."  The older woman sucked in a deep breath, grateful for the taste of canned, antiseptic air.  "Story will get around quickly on a ship this size, and it means people will know who we are: 'that group what blew waste all over docking bay whatever'.  Haha, embarrassment, but it's better than 'who are you, what's your operating number'."

Even Imperials like to laugh, she knows.

"Hang in there, Juragga," she murmurs.  He's looking better already. "When we find something, the group will run interference for you, Haarmon.  Talk-talk interference, not 'beat up people' interference," she cautions the furry giant next to her.  "Save that for when...when..."

Finally Shard shrugs.  "When things go bad."  The metaphor which had jumped to mind is sadly redundant.

The first side door is open, and seems to be some sort of workshop.  Lots of machinery, terminals, workbenches, and things that look like ship components, many of them stripped down for cleaning or repairs.

Also plenty of techs working on  said components.

The second is closed, but not for long.  A man in an Imperial Fleet uniform walks out of it as they draw level with it.  He strides past the group heading for the hangar, sparing a quick glance, with attendant sneer, for Juragga.  Then he seems to smell something bad, and he coughs as he hurries away.

Thedoor is open for a second longer, revealing that the room beyond is an office, complete with a terminal, and currently empty...

Rhijans gave a quick jerk of his head to the now-vacant office.  "I think somebody needed some work done in here, yes?" he asked, his voice at a conversational level.  In a main corridor, the fastest way to be noticed was to be observed trying not to be noticed...so he didn't bother trying to keep his voice low or avoid being seen.

"Should be able to take care of that and then see what else we can fix before our shift ends..."  There was an unpleasant humor that seemed to color his words for a moment...slightly emphasizing 'fix'.

"Sounds good, sir," Shard duly parrots.  Within, she's relieved; nobody seems to be making an issue of Juragga.  There had been a great deal of concern, but...  A Star Destroyer is basically a flying city, Shard.  Lots and lots of people aboard.

"Great work with the waste stream, Haarmon," she growls, only semi-quietly.  Like Rhijans, the older woman is doing her best not to be noticed, and whispering is a bad plan.  "Now we stink, and everyone knows it."  For a second - only that - she flashes him an approving smile.  This situation couldn't have gone better, Shard figures, and with any luck other techs will have been assigned to clean out the ship before they need to make their heroic escape.

In the meantime, nobody wants anything to do with them.

One hand claps Juragga on the shoulder.  "Hunker down here," she orders, with a small grimace meant only for the hairy giant. "We'll sit by the door, let them work."

And stink up this part of the hallway, promoting people to keep moving along.   

Haarmon manages a good blush at Shard's comment and his mouth puckererd up and his gaze locked on the floor. To any outside observer, it would look like he was withering under her criticism. The reality was something altogether different.

He didn't say anything in response to either her or Rhijans. He had learned to take his cues from them when on a mission, and they were playing this cool and casual. And although he was not overly blessed in the self-awareness department, he was dimly cognizant that 'cool' and 'casual' were two terms with which he kept, at best, inconstant company.

So he just pretended to be all abashed at the Fecal Fiasco and shuffled his way into the small office. He paused a moment and eyed the place. His gaze locked onto the terminal and he tried to keep the motivated, direct, almost eager notes out of his stride as he walked over to it.

He sat down and got to work. He had his own terminal close to hand if he needed it. And he guessed he would. Imperial networks tended to be frustrating, labrynthine contructions, with dozens and dozens of of conflicting permissions and drives and standalones.

But things got done in steps.

First, maps and layout. Get them onto some datapads for the others.

Next. Information about Orkannen and Rebel prisoners, most especially the Colonal.

And depending on how long that takes, and how much digital red-tape there was in the way, he would try scrambling up the records of shiips-in/ships-out for the hangar they were in. Delete some. Add a few. Toss a few ships here and a few ships there. Get everyone super confused and running around like crazy.

16 on the Computer Prog/Repair, 22 on investigation, and 9 on Network Forgery.

Uh oh.

Now that he's had his fun, it's time for Haarmon to get down to some real work...

It takes a little while for him to negotiate the maze of network protocols.  A lot of promising leads fizzle out due to secured gateways and flawed access codes - It looks as though the this particular star destroyer has recently had its network security upgraded.

But eventually information starts to trickle through.  The deck plans aren't perfect - security seems to be at its tightest there - but the blank areas on the diagrams might contain items of importance and vital systems.

Information on Orakanin is a little more easily available.  The Imperials were here as a standard show of force - fly in, terrorise the system for a while, then move on to do the same elsewhere.  Though Orakanin is apparently scheduled for another visit soon in an effort to catch undesirables by surprise.

There is some information on prisoners.  All of them are being transferred to the flagship after a brief interrogation on whichever ship captures them.  Cross referencing that reveals that this particular star destroyer, the Terminator is that flagship.

If the Colonel is still alive then he is, or soon will be, on this very ship...

Prisoners are recorded as twelve character ID codes only.  No names.  Still, the time stamps next to the codes are probably a good indicator of which one is Jalt.  That particular entry is also flagged as possessing a couple of droids...

Suddenly Juragga, sitting near the door lets out a soft "whuff" of alarm.  His sharp hearing has detected stormtroopers moving along the corridor...

Rhijans stiffened at Juragga's...alarm (he didn't understand what the Wookiee was saying, but the tone and Juragga's body language made the basic intent clear, even if he didn't get the particulars.)

"Well, this could get exciting," he muttered, and looked around for some kind of service panel that he could open and be working on as the troopers came into view.  Preferably something he could close up with a remote detonator and a charge inside, for a later distraction...

"Not good," Shard quietly notes. "Our 'disguise' isn't going to work so well against people in full-armor."  The stench certainly won't keep them away.  Going to her tool belt, she verifies that the murder-stick is in place, then hunkers down close to Juragga.  "Let's all just stay calm.  Nothing we can do until they arrive; if we're lucky, they'll just head on past us.  We're just a bunch of techs, after all."

And if not?  If the Imperials stop to ask questions?

Then there's a problem, Shard knows.  Likely as not, if that occurs it'll be because the Imperials are looking for saboteurs, not just being suspicious.  Otherwise, the troopers - with places to go, people to see, things to do - would likely just march past a bunch of techs and their enslaved labourer.

Juragga growls softly.  The troopers are outside the door now, and they've stopped...

And then the Wookiee warbles.  They're moving on... seems like they're on their way to somewhere else.  Or maybe just patrolling the ship.

Haarmon starts transferring information to a datapad.  A map of the ship.  Then he lets out a low whistle.  "Kourene is here.  Or will be soon.  This is the flagship, and all prisoners get sent here eventually.  And I've found Jalt."

Rhijans gave a near-feral grin.  "Copy that info onto something portable.  Let's go spring Jalt, see if we can get him into something that will blend in with us...and get ready to spring Kourene and anyone they bring in with him."

His grin faltered for just a moment.  "And we should probably see if we can find some way to get that information back to Command, so they can send help.  That way, if we get out of this alive, they can't complain that we didn't follow orders."

Fantastic news; Shard's heart actually skips a beat when the word comes of the colonel's arrival.  But... "Wait."  Shard catches at Rhijans' sleeve.  "If we free Jalt, we run a serious risk of alerting them.  Something could go wrong, and we'll end up with the entire ship on alert.  Worse, if that's the case they might wave off the colonel's transport."

The older woman closes her eyes, hard, brow furrowing.  "I hate what I'm about to say...but I think we need to do both roughly at the same time.  That way, if something goes off with Jalt's rescue, it won't impact on either the guards on the ship or the colonel's transfer."

Her eyes pop open after a moment. "Flagship?  Haarmon, would you snag a list of any dignitaries or luminaries on board as well.  Could be important."   Turning back to Rhijans, she slowly shrugs.  "I'm of the idea we're going to have to replay Alrirkr* and split the group.  I know, I know - bad holovid warnings all over this, but it seems like our best shot."

* Frozen Assets

Rhijans nodded agreement.  Sound logic was hard to argue with.  He looked over at Dak.  "While you're digging for information, see if you can find something about a locker room or armor stockpile or something.  If I'm possibly going to end up on my own somewhere, I'll pass myself off as a stormtrooper a lot more convincingly than as a technician."

He scowled slightly and added, "We still need floor plans, information on where Jalt is located."  AThe scowl vanished and an almost cafty look, not quite a grin, replaced it.  "How hard is it to forge an internal prisoner transfer order?  Not releasing him, just moving him from one detention area to another?"

Haarmon continues working, as he listens in on the discussion.  "At least I think I've found Jalt.  A recently processed prisoner, listed as having two droids with him.  Sounds like him."

"There's no names for any of the prisoners, just ID codes.  That prisoner is here.  Oh, and security seems to be extreme around this block of detention cells here.  Interesting... a couple of prisoner in there who arrived at about the time I'd figure Kourene was captured."

Juragga gets to his feet and looks ready to tear the ship apart with his own hands...

Rhijans nodded.  "We're definitely going to need some different uniforms in order to make this work.  A stormtrooper or officer might be able to get into the detention blocks without raising eyebrows...a maintenance tech, without responding to a call?  Never gonna happen, no matter how bored the guards might be."

He glanced at Dak.  "Unless you can manage to create some kind of repairs-required-now situation there...and then make sure that we're the team that answers the call, without someone else coming in on our heels."

He paused a moment, thinking.  "Or, maybe, a tech team escorted by a stormtrooper?  The more anonymous we can become, the better, but at least two of us won't fit stormtrooper armor very well..."  Shard was too short...and Juragga...well, besides being too tall, and big enough that the torso armor would fit his legs, there was the minor issue of containing all the hair...

"And, somewhere along the way, we've gotta start laying the pieces for a lot of very large diversions to enable us to get out."

He though for another moment.  Getting into a maximum security area on the Star Destroyer would be hazardous, even by the loose applications of the term he tended to use...it would be good if they could verify that they were actually going in after the right person before they stuck their necks that much further out.

"They don't list any info on the prisoners...but do they have security monitor footage stashed somewhere? If we could get a look at it and make sure it's the Colonel in there before we start raising a ruckus, it would be a good measure to take."

Standing up next to Juragga, Shard puts her hand on his arm. "We need to move slowly and carefully," she quietly reminds the Wookie.  "That's our best chance of getting everyone out of here alive.  Colonel, Jalt, all of us...."  Once she's certain he's not going to charge off in search of heads to forcibly remove, Shard returns her attention to Haarmon and Rhijans.

"All right.  Good plans so far.  So, two troopers, one maintenance tech, and my 'assistant'." Another pat on Juragga.  "And the best possible thing to do would be to have something go terribly wrong with the Star Destroyer right when we're about to leave."  The older woman grimaces. "Odds...are pretty long on that.  It's a big ship, full of redundant systems.  And if we get out of here, we need to break out of the picket-line and manage to make the jump..."

It's sounding worse and worse by the moment.

She bites her lip, then shrugs. "One step at a time.  If you can get us close to the place where they might be holding Kourene, I can figure out if he's there," Shard quietly explains.  "That 'extremely secure' area, for example.  And maybe - just maybe - we should just bust in there anyway; anyone they're holding in that place is going to be important, Kourene or not." 

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, she nods decisively.  "All right.  Get some armor.  Get in.  Get Jalt out - that's possible, we have a crisis of crap in the bay.  Maybe the techs need Jalt in order to work out how to keep his ship from continuing to vomit garbage all over the bay.  Make up some excuse involving fluidics*.  So we get HIM out, then we spring the colonel or whomever is in that area...and..."

Her lips purse heavily in a thoughtful moue.  "That's all I have right now."

* Obscure Reference Award for those who get this!

Rhijans nodded.  "We can help create some additional chaos and possibly even take down some of those redundant systems if we get charges in the right places.  The right two or three power feeds gone offline will cause a LOT of problems.  And if we can set them in the right places, we can potentially lead troops away from the hangar area...convince them there are infiltrators working on another section of the ship."  He was quite certain such distractions would be of very limited use against the detention guards...they had one assignment, and that was to hold the detention area secure.  The other guards and stormtroopers had a general task to protect the ship...which meant going where the threat was, not protecting specific areas from threats.

A notion came to mind...but it would all depend on how much information Haarmon was able to dig out of the Imperial systems.  "First thing is finding some armor in need of a body to fill it...or finding a couple of bodies to be divested of their armor."  He looked over at Dak.

"Is there a barracks section somewhere nearby?  Preferably one without too many people in it, but we'll improvise as needed."  He grinned over at Juragga, knowing that, between the Wookiee and the explosives they were carrying, they could create a lot of havoc.

"And while I'm setting a list of impossible tasks, disable the alarm systems in that area so they can't call for help without having to make a run for it.  And then locate a couple of power nodes feeding detention areas OTHER than the one Kourene is in.  Maybe we can manufacture our own crisis, get ourselves an excuse to get the whole team in there."  He grimaced slightly.  "I think our odds will go up if we can get Jalt out, quietly, and get him in armor, as well...not to mention all the chaos his astromech could cause if he got tied into the ship's network."

Haarmon snaps his fingers.  "On it!"  And he starts searching the system for security codes, using the software on his own portable console.  He spends a few minutes, while he waits, studying the datapad with the downloaded schematics.

"Quartermaster's store here, three decks down from where we are now.  But it looks like it's right next to the stormtroopers' nest, so there's going to be a lot of them about."

The console chirps quietly, and Haarmon turns to investigate.  "Right, I'm into their detention surveillance records.  And... that looks like Colonel Kourene being marched into a cell."

The recording is not very clear, and the prisoner in question has his back to the camera for most of it, but towards the end, when he is almost out of range, he turns to walk into the cell, and his profile comes into view...

"That's close enough to a confirmation for me."  There were chances, of course, that they could be wrong...but there was no other good way of knowing, short of getting a live feed in the cell itself.  And he doubted they could access that from here.  He knew he, at least, would have any surveillance within the cells on a closed system, accessible only from the detention area.  There was no need for anyone else to access it.

Well...no need which the Empire would consider legitimate, anyway...

"If we're lucky, we can get in there and score a couple of suits of armor without grabbing attention...any chance you can forge a repair order for something in there, and write it up so we're the team that responds to it?"  When it came to computers and shipboard systems, he was out of his depth...he could only think of what would be convenient for them, it was up to Dak to tell him whether it was possible or not.

They didn't need a lot of time alone in there.  Without assistance, it took him maybe five minutes to get into the armor, last time.  With a couple of helping hands, they could easily shave a minute or two off of that.

Rhijans the planner goes into high gear, with the help of Haarmon the facilitator.  Shard, being the critiquer, sits back and waits for the idea to unfurl (no doubt similarly for Juragga the remover, and that particular title has little to do with plans).  And unfurl it does, grand and risky, but would any workable plan be any less?

"Nicely done," she murmurs at sight of the colonel.  They're up and running, now - by luck (or design) they've managed to get aboard the one place in the universe where can be found a Colonel Kourene.  Now they just need to escape him.

"So we have Jalt in one area, the colonel in another." Her lips press together. "This...is going to be tight.  I'm still worried we'd do better splitting up - getting one group to bust out Jalt, the other to get Kourene.  Once we get one out, the odds of them knowing we're here skyrocket." The older woman paces in a circle.  "How to prevent that...Jalt is the least important.  We get him out first, if anything - maybe to bring him to his ship to help clean the stink out, or maybe just to move him to another cell block.  That'll give us You-Why as well, and the R2.  He's not a big security issue.  THEN...we get the colonel and run?"

"Thoughts?"

Rhijans nodded.  "Agreed.  If I could figure out a way to make it happen, I'd arrange for Jalt to 'vanish' in a prisoner transfer...orders arrive at his current cellblock for him to be transferred to another, but the others never get those orders so when he doesn't show up, nobody notices anything is wrong.  We stick him in trooper armor, as well...that gives us three guns that are about as anonymous as we're going to manage.  Barring that, put him in a tech uniform and send him back to the Bantha to get it on standby..."

He trailed off, and glanced down at his own Imperial tech uniform.  "We get the trooper armor first, I'm not going to need these..." he said, gesturing at his outfit.

"And I'm sure Jalt can pass himself off as a starship technician, of ANY sort, better than I can."

A plan starts to take shape.  Well, more like two linked plans, since there are two targets.

Haarmon starts work on his own console, pushing orders through to the Imperial system.  "Repair order just went in to deal with a faulty power coupling in the stores' thermal regulator.  And we're the only people who know about it.  So I suppose we'll have to drag our choobies down there and fix it."

The slicer grins.

"Thermal regulator.  Sounds like just the place to leave a thermal detonator, right?"

The work order transfers to a datapad, where it sits on the display, looking very severe and official.

Rhijans gave a ghost of a smile.  A very approving smile.  "Sounds exactly like the right kind of place for a thermal detonator.  Or at least some kind of remote-triggered charge.  Maybe a remote charge to trigger a thermal detonator."

The thought that he would soon be back in a more faceless operating mode made him feel better about his options for the mission.  Were his appearance less distinctive, the technician uniform would work wonderfully...but there weren't many gray-skinned humanoids in the galaxy, and even fewer, if any, who worked for the Empire.  And with what they were about to do, being noteworthy, even before they started making trouble, was problematic.  Wookiees could be written off as slaves...they weren't commonplace, but they were there.  The Empire wasn't particularly well known for using females amongst their personnel...but as a low-ranking tech, Shard ran a minimal risk of drawing attention.  Haarmon?  Aside from an occasional lapse into a total lack of decorum, he could actually fit in perfectly.

But Rhijans felt like showing his face was risking the entire operation.

"So, we get the armor, get that working...did you get a chance to put anything into the system regarding a possible prisoner transfer for Jalt?"  Thinking two or three steps ahead was a survival skill, for him, though he could improvise when he had to.

A sharp nod follows Rhijans' words. "All right, then.  Thermal regulator, Haarmon?  We'd better get at that." 

They need to move, and move now - any delay risks discovery, risks losing Jalt, risks more torture and loss of secrets for Kourene.  Fingers itching slightly, Shard awaits response from Haarmon.  If anyone can do it...