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Into the Belly of the Beast
Trask_LargeroDate: Tuesday, 14 Dec 2010, 7:14 AM | Message # 1
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It had been a brief stop on Nar Shaada, but a productive one none-the-less. Anubis and himself had managed to get most of the supplies they would need for what was about to happen and had even managed to talk to a former Imperial who had been inside of the prison and had been able to give them a good description of its lay out. It had cost them some funds, yes, but in the end the information was indispensible for what was about to happen.

Trask pushed his eyes open as he felt the small craft drop out of hyperspace over Dathomir. Looking around to familiarize himself with his surroundings, it was clearly going to take some to adjust to this new suit he had ordered and which had finally been completed. It was perfect, he thought, for his needs as a soon to be rebel leader.

There was a lot he still had to adapt to even after 9 years of this life; it still struck him as odd the transition he had made. From a defender of justice and the Old Republic to a fugitive; hunted because of what he was and not because of any crime that he had committed, to finally taking up arms once again to fight this usurper of power who called himself the Emperor. It had taken all he had to avoid insanity for a long while in the beginning.

Trask sighed a bit glad for the quiet of space to not distract his thoughts. This new companion, a clone commando of all things, could prove to be either an incredibly useful ally or an unspeakably dangerous foe, which it was going to be had yet to be seen. The same could possibly be said for every potential ally in all honesty so he would have to risk it for now to see how things went. The die were cast and now it was time for the rebellion to begin.

(Sorry for the short opener guys bug I got tired of writing this)

Message edited by Trask_Largero - Tuesday, 14 Dec 2010, 7:15 AM
 
Warden_HinesDate: Sunday, 02 Jan 2011, 2:45 PM | Message # 2
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Another day on Dathomir, Hines thought to himself, resigned. He hated it here. He hated the trees, the rain, the rancors, and he hated that every day was the same as every other day. There were times when he wished he hadn't accepted the promotion into the detention services—wished, in fact, that he were still commanding stormtroopers on the front lines on New Plympto. Never thought I would want to be there again, he thought to himself with some grim amusement that soon subsided as he looked out the reinforced transparisteel viewport of his office upon the prison yard and, beyond it, the landing platform and, beyond that, the wilds of Dathomir. Yes, he hated this place. More than he had ever hated anything, even the Nosaurians whose horns he had taken as souvenirs that now adorned the desk in his office.

In the distance, a rancor could be heard roaring triumphantly over the body of some prey it had, no doubt, just killed. Hines had tried to make a sport of hunting rancors here once, but when, in one incident, three members of his hunting party—his subordinates—were killed, Imperial Center had admonished him for having to send more officers to Dathomir to replace them. He turned away from his viewport, preferring not to think about it. He was in a pensive mood, and glanced about his office. His gaze came to rest on the various weapons he had in display cases throughout the room; mostly knives and hunting rifles, but a few weapons of sentimental value as well, including his pride and joy—a functioning reproduction of an antique Tystel Mark III blaster pistol, with a gold trim. He wished he could use it. He wished he had reason to. But no, every day on Dathomir was the same as every other day.

He sighed, sat down at his bulky durasteel desk, and went to work on the day's business.

* * *

Warden Hines may have been hostile to Dathomir, but Dathomir returned the favor to him and, indeed, to most forms of life. It was a difficult place to reside, with many predatory species. In this respect, it was an ideal location for Detention Facility O6-5. The prison was as hostile to intruders as the planet was—the only "reasonable" way in, as Trask and his clone co-conspirator would know, was a vertical ventilation shaft about three meters across that led from the roof of the prison all the way into its lower depths. It was a "reasonable" way in only insofar as spinning blades and a number of reptavians who had made the shaft their home. It was for these reasons, and the fact that it was a straight climb up, that the Imperials never expected anyone to escape through the shaft. As a result, it wasn't closely monitored. But they never expected anyone to come in through the shaft either.

Air ducts from throughout the prison connected to the ventilation shaft all up and down its length, but, anticipating possible escape attempts, the ducts were all far too small for most beings to fit through. The shaft, then, led eventually down into a maintenance bay that was usually empty, except when the fans were being serviced or there was a shift change. For the time being, it was empty. Getting there would be no small feat for the would-be intruders, however.

Added (02 Jan 2011, 3:45 PM)
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* * *

A large amount of time having passed, the guards, by now, had all changed shifts and patrolmen began their regular sweep of the detention center's perimeter, traveling in pairs and covering the areas around the prison complex as well as inside it, to disperse any bolmas or other animals that might draw the ever-problematic rancors to the complex. There had also been a fight between a number of Barabel and Verpine prisoners during recreation time, and as a result of this, Hines had ordered his security to be especially vigilant. Once the word was out among the prisoners, one fight could lead to another, then another, then another. Hines had no tolerance for disorder in his facility. The prisoners, thus, were confined to their cells for the rest of the day.

Each block of cells—resembling the design seen on the Death Star, among other Imperial detention centers--consisted of a pair of hexagonal corridors, side-by-side. Unlike the Death Star design, however, the corridors were short; the length of only three cells, or six cells total per corridor. This design was repeated vertically, so that one floor would have 12 cells, the next floor would have 12, and so on. Each floor had its own dedicated command area which controlled the cells on that floor. In other words, each floor looking rather like this:

_______________
[C]| |[C][C]| |[C]
[C]| |[C][C]| |[C]
[C]| |[C][C]| |[C]

o o
(Control Area)

|T/lift|

Meanwhile, the longer that the unidentified ship remained in orbit, the closer it would come to being detected by the detention center. Travel to Dathomir was uncommon, and Hines wasn't expecting any shipments of supplies or prisoners today. If it was detected, it would surely rouse the suspicions of the Imperials.


Gregory Hines
Warden of Imperial Dentention Facility O6-5, Dathomir


Message edited by Warden_Hines - Wednesday, 15 Dec 2010, 10:10 PM
 
Trask_LargeroDate: Tuesday, 18 Jan 2011, 8:03 AM | Message # 3
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((Apologies for the delay. I was waiting on Anubis to post before I went ahead and posted again.)

Added (18 Jan 2011, 9:03 Am)
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(taking some liberties with this post I know but I want to get this finished with as soon as possible so i can free up Trask)

The ship would follow the standard proceedures heading towards a small trading outpost on the surface of the planet. It would appear to be just another piece of the traffic to the planet that occurred periodically. It would have to pass by the prison though, it would stay on the other side of the mountain face keeping its distance from the prison though slowing down briefly before continuing on its way.

Trask had let the ship go to autopilot and felt it slow down enough for them to open the canopy and emerge from the ship using a pair of grappling cables they would move silently firing them off towards the peak of the cliff and would begin to pull themselves upward. They had worked out the details earlier on Nar Shaada. It was unlikely that a pair of grapplers would be heard from all the way across a mountain face and not to mention over the natural noise of a prison camp and giving the appearance of heading to a trading outpost would make it easier for them to operate in secret. His own ship would be waiting for the signal to come and get them.

With the grappling cables secured they would start moving upwards, having already brought the ship in as close as they could to prevent slamming into the walls of the cliff at bone breaking speed. They would be pulled up quickly while the ship closed its canopy and continued on autopilot to nearby the trading outpost to continue the appearance of nothing out of the ordinary. Trask and Anubis would soon be at the top of the cliff and Trask would move to remove a pair of macrobinoculars to begin surveying the prison area to check their way in from the cliff side and onto the roof of the facility and from there the air ducts. Everything would require careful timing, he knew, but for now he suspected that they had the element of surprise. After all, who breaks into a prison?

 
Anubis_XerxesDate: Saturday, 22 Jan 2011, 4:27 PM | Message # 4
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Anubis had decided to hitch a ride on Trask's shuttle when they were on Nar Shaddaa. It was because that would make escaping radar much easier. The clone knew he had gambled in taking a ride with a Jedi Knight. The only thing he hoped for was that it would pay off in the long run. This brought him back to the Clone Wars...kind of. Anubis was always fighting deep into the enemy territory. He could do whatever it is that was required of him in order to complete a mission. Because of this, he had performed tons of top secret operations with his deceased squadron and, in several cases, Jedi Knights. The clone commando had been used to fighting side-by-side with a Jedi, but he felt weird not having his squad with him once the shuttle had dropped out of hyperspace.

Trask would see a face of Jango Fett grinning evilly, "This is it. Let's do this, Jedi." A firm tone would be heard, as the clone had put the helmet over his head and was wearing the Katarn-class commando armor as usual. His armor and helmet may be white, but he isn't an Imperial. Besides, this would work to his advantage. This would confuse the stormtroopers stationed inside the prison, or he would hope for. This may buy him some time, but not much time. Maybe just enough time for Trask to get his friend out. Enough of trying to figure some crap in his own mind. Before he decided to go for the cable, he double checked his belt to make sure both EWHB-12 heavy reapeating blasters were inside the holsters attached to his belt. He double checked the knuckle plate vibro blade attached at top of his armored hand as well to make sure it was there. Along with the grenades and explosives needed for the mission, Anubis grabbed the DC-17m Interchangeable Weapon System, this time it was a blaster rifle, and gently got himself off the shuttle.

Anubis would let himself slid down the cable slowly and gently, before landing on the edge of the cliff. The clone landed on one knee, and the other knee would stay up for his shooting arm to lay on as a support. The DC-17m blaster rifle were heavy, and that was the way he liked it. He immediately activated the HUD inside his helmet to scan the nearby surroundings, checking for any possible hostilities. He would notice the patrolmen going around about their business, which is hardly surprising with the way Dathomir is. Anubis stopped scanning the area, "Intel reliable so far. I probably don't have to crack his skull afterall." Of course, he was referring to the man that had tipped them information on the Dathomir prison. After letting out a heavy sigh, he whispered to the Jedi. "Should I go in first, or do you want the honor?"


~Anubis Xerxes
The Empire's worst nightmare
 
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