4 C1P3 - Break Out

Providence-Class Carrier-Destroyer, Golden Opportunity​

C-Level, corridors to D-Level

The ship shook as another blast struck it's armored hull, nearly throwing me to the ground as the clones staggered about.

"Not that I'm not grateful, but why did you help us?" Asked the gruff Clone leader, his expression distasteful and openly suspicious.

I tilted my head as I looked up at him, then pointed down the hall. "There is an armory three corridors down, to your left. It is stocked with explosives and heavy weapons. If you take the access tunnel at the corridor three halls down to the right, you can head straight for the hangar."

Stone stared at me, his expression twisting from between distrust and pity. Some of the clones shifted uncomfortably as their commander nodded. "Never thought I'd say this to a clanker, but...thanks."

"I was never here," I reply, nodding. "You got out all on your own."

"Right," the commanding clone turn away from me and began barking out orders. I walked away, as fast as I could. Pulling the blaster rifle from the cradle on my back, I aim it briefly at the wall, staring down the sights before nodding to myself and running down the halls to the nearest elevator. A few minutes later, the floor shuddered as the access tunnel was forcibly opened with a thermal detonator.

The elevator brought me up to G Deck, where an ongoing firefight was occurring. A stray blaster bolt struck an unfortunate B1 that had been distracted by my arrival. I took its place by hiding behind a pair of fallen storage containers. I popped out of cover and let the programming do the job. I fired a few bolts...and hit nothing at all.

Mentally, I frowned and forcibly took control, ignoring the protests of my programming. Sighting down the barrel of my blaster, I pulled the trigger, striking a clone in the arm on the other end of the corridor.

"Good shot soldier!" Exclaimed a B1 commander, before his head was shot off. I pulled the trigger again, wounding another trooper. A grenade rolled nearby, knocking me to the ground and throwing droid parts everywhere. Suddenly the blaster fire intensified as the clones I helped escape fired into the unprotected flank of the security droids. I tilt my head at them and played dead.

"Unit Seven-One-One, what are you-?" Demanded a B2 Captain. The aggressive monotone voice was cut off as a pair of blaster bolts penetrated it's armor and burned out its core processors.

"Well, boys, lookit that! Its Delta!" Said a clone. "Looks like you just went and rescued us instead of the other way around!"

"You have extraction ready?" demanded the Clone Sergeant.

"Gunship in the hangar bay," said a clone grimly, "But clankers are rushing over there to cut off our escape."

"I think we've got a way to stop that." Stone shouted over to where I was resting, "Oi, Seven Eleven, you over there?"

"No. I am dead," I reply in deadpan from my position.

To the surprise of the boarding clones, I stood up and raised my blaster up in the face of a dozen or so blaster rifles pointed in my direction. To my relief, the Sergeant pushed their guns down and nodded towards me.

"Hey, since when did you guys get a pet clanker?" Asked one of the clone troopers.

"I am not a pet!" I growl tinnily before turning to the sergeant. "The access shaft should lead you down under the hangar bay. You can circumvent their blockade and come out through the maintenance tunnels."

"Yeah, yeah," said Stone, grinning. "You were dead. We never got help from you."

"You got that right," I mutter, walking away, hellbent on getting the hell out of here.

It took ten minutes of running, falling, and near death experiences before I was only a few meters to my escape.

The fight appeared to be going poorly for the Separatists, but the next phase of my plan was about to become easier thanks to the Republic's ambush. To my knowledge, there were two Venator-Class Star Destroyers hammering the Golden Opportunity, but taking care to ensure that it was not damaged enough to self destruct. The escorts of Munificents were all but destroyed and I had only enough time to make it to one of the secondary hangar bays. The explosives I rigged up near engineering should provide me enough time to-

BOOM

The entire ship lurched as a massive shudder sent the bulkheads screaming and alarms shrieking. I looked at the oncoming wall of flames rushing towards me and swore. Jumping through the blast doors, I could feel the superheated plasma licking at my body before the blast doors closed.

There was an ominous creaking that was filling the ship, that was clearly not a good sign, so I quickly ran towards a ship. Just as I reached the shuttle, an access hatch opened and someone dropped to the ground with a sickening thud, groaning as a belch of fire burned itself out. Cautiously I walk up to the body and poked it.

"Gah!"

Almost instantly, a glowing red lightsaber activated with a snip and hiss. White pale skin and deep slitted eyes stared at me as she coughed, blood dribbling out of her lips.

"You need medical attention!" I blurted out stupidly, holding out my hands in surrender.

With a grimace, she closed her eyes and crumpled to the floor.

"Um...hello?"

She didn't move.

Carefully, I picked the woman up, making sure to pick up her saber and carry her into the shuttle. Laying her down onto the floor, I quickly run-up to the cockpit of the Sheathpede and activated the shuttle's engines. Letting my programming take control, I eased the shuttle off the ground and frowned at the closed hangar doors. Thumbing the joystick for the heavy laser cannons, I began sending bolts of destructive energy into the thick hide until they ate through the armor. Gently, the ship eased out of the hole, crumpling the side of the shuttle as it sped away. The shuttle encountered no resistance as it quickly made the distance from the dying destroyer.

I caught a sight of two Venators jumping into hyperspace, just as the Golden Opportunity's broken body erupted into an expanding ball of fire and debris.

Setting the ship to autopilot, I made my way to the unconscious sith on the ground, turning her all the way around. Staring at her, I suddenly realized that I knew this woman. Not personally, but rather from another source entirely. This was Asajj Ventress, apprentice and Dark Acolyte of Count Dooku, Darth Tyrannus. I was no medic, but I cleaned her up as well as I could, cleaned and bandaged her burns before tucking her into a couch wrapped in blankets.

Inputting coordinates for Seranno, I watched as the stars became streaks and the shuttle itself jumped into hyperspace.