Quittin' Time!

The mechanics aboard the sub-aquatic ship repair facility were hard at work, running tests and tinkering with starship engines. The New Republic navy had contracted them to work for 4 months in isolation. Publicly, the New Republic was decommissioning their fleet. Privately however, a secret line of funding was being funnelled into experimental starship production. 

Communication with the surface was cut off soon after Imperial star destroyers entered the planet’s atmosphere. Any further chatter was at risk of being picked up by the Cantwell-class Arrestor Cruisers that were patrolling the frigid planet. However, one can only hide from the Crim Empire for so long…

It was a quiet morning aboard Sub Station 21. X and Y were scheduled to go for a dive. One of the inner walls had been damaged during the testing of a suped up Fusial Thrust Engine and Station Command wanted a full assessment of the outer wall’s structural integrity. X was about to call out for Y to stop tinkering and get his helmet on when suddenly, the workshop erupted in sensory overload. As warning lights flashed incessantly, the blaring alarm overhead refused to cease.

Before the skeleton crew of mechanics had a chance to check the flashing displays at the console, 2 dark clad figures broke through the water that filled the exit hatch. They had been waiting for their moment. The Deathtrooper’s garbled voices were unintelligible to the mechanics. Some raised their hands in surrender, some grabbed the nearest tool to use as a weapon. In the end, it wouldn’t make a difference. Admiral Natasi Daala of the Maw Fleet had already issued her orders. Any Research & Development stations that had refused the call to surrender their data would not be spared in the hunt that would follow.

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