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You and Porro will go to the bridge; likely, it will be a harder task than storming the engines, which should be populated with only engineers and technicians. Despite the lack of local resistance, as soon as the alarm is raised, which will undoubtedly happen at some point, the raiders will swarm to the location with all their strength. The numbers will no doubt be overwhelming; the thousands that took part in the ground assault will overrun the area. Having some explosives would have made this task much more straightforward; all you would need to do is plant them on the hyperdrive and then disappear into the ship while the vessel is stuck in the solar system, waiting for the sector defence fleet to appear.
“Me and Porro will take the bridge; you guys try to knock out the hyperdrive. But whatever you do, make sure not to get in a place where you can get cornered. If they find us and trap us, they will drown us under the weight of their numbers.” One by one, you look into your friends’ eyes and give them slight nods, and in them, you see a steely determination, undaunted by the risk. You are proud to call them your friends.
“Meet you on the other side,” Luke smiles to you, brimming with confidence, at least overtly that’s the demeanour he radiates. “The team that stops the ship first gets free drinks for a year.”
Luke and you clasp each other’s right arm and give a friendly squeeze, then you reply, “You are on.”
The team of Padawans exit first; the last you see of them is Claire, who lingers by the open hatch; she gazes into your eyes. You think she is going to say something, but the words never materialise, and she slips away out of sight. You and Porro slink out of the opened ships’ door, entering a grand hangar filled with countless ships all the same class as the one you piloted into the hauler. The number of vessels that are densely packed together makes escaping the hangar relatively easy. All you need to do is crouch and hug yourself against the parked ships. Many mercenaries still linger in the hangar, talking to others about their days haul. There are enough of them that going proverbially guns blazing is unfeasible.
As soon as you exit the hangar, you and Porro stand up straight, tall, and proud. Giving off the air that not only are you meant to be here, but you hold authority over the lesser crewmembers. None of the unkempt pirates you pass initiates conversation or asks questions of who you are or why you are here. It is so easy that you struggle to suppress a smile. Passing through the labyrinthine corridors of dirty grey steel marred with countless scuffs and scrapes, you find no issue. Then your Commlink chimes, you bring it to your ear, in turn Porro shoots you an unpleasant disapproving look.
