(Gonna go ahead and move the rebels to the docking platform to get some action going since I've got the only native character at the moment)
Compared to the broad walkways utilized by clientele, the Depot's inner corridors were a maze of rusty passageways and leaky pipes. It would be an impossible feat for the natives to navigate if not for the intelligence provided by a turncoat industrial some time ago. As it was, they now knew which employee back entrance had a faulty lock, which corridor would lead them to the nearest lift, and which paths saw the least slig traffic, and therefore had the least chance of a skirmish. They couldn't waste time with needless fights when the train had nearly arrived.
The interior corridors weren't a guarantee of safe passage by any means, though--the Depot was seething like a kicked ant's nest, and they were bound to encounter some guards as they rushed to the courtyard, searching for an enemy that had already slipped into their fortress. By the time the band reached a lift, several had sustained injuries ranging from mere bruises to hastily-bandaged bullet wounds.
They crowded into the lift, a few casting doubtful looks at the aged machinery. As the elevator creaked it's way upwards through the shaft, the rebels took the slightly awkward moment of peace to check their weapons and catch their breathing, steeling themselves for the final push. Most of the Depot's security was now scattered around the building, but there were sure to be guards left on the platform, considering what was coming their way.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing a short passageway and a firmly-lowered security shutter in their way. “Everyone step back!” cautioned a grubb with mottled charcoal markings, a fellow Gabbi didn’t recognize from her own tribe. He approached the blast doors, rifling in a large satchel for something, then withdrew a mass of brown fur with stubby, leathery wings tucked against its sides. Everyone else skittered backwards, immediately recognizing the boombat for what it was. The grubb, either brave or suicidal, gave the boombat a good poke to get it mad enough to blow, then quickly transferred it to a sling and whirled it about it his head, taking aim and letting go in the few seconds he had before it went off. The volatile creature collided with the shutter’s hinges and exploded, blasting the metal to bits. A second bat finished off the other side, and with a thunderous squeal, the door collapsed inward, revealing the docking platform.
With a cry, the natives swarmed through the now-open doorway and launched themselves at the assembled sligs, intending to secure the platform before the train arrived.
---
There was no time to be scared anymore. She could only focus on the now, on the enemy in front of her and the prize slowly drawing nearer. Gabbi whooped and yelled along with her companions, finding herself in the middle of the fray. Adrenaline kept common sense and terror at bay, for the moment, and she swung about with her axe, aiming for the knee-joints of the sligs’ mechanical legs to cripple them. One tentacle face blended into another, and the firing of guns became a staccato rhythm in her ears. The green-skinned creatures were virtually impossible to tell apart (at least to her eyes), although she spied one with an odd-looking mask, and she knew the glukkons cowering away from the skirmish hardly posed a threat on their own. She caught of a glimpse of a wrinkled, three-legged form as well—what was a Vykker doing here? She didn’t have much time to ponder these anomalous beings, however. A rumble had begun to build up around the station, heralding the arrival of the train. Would they stopped as planned, she wondered? Or would they somehow see the trouble brewing before it was too late?
Another explosion, following by yet another chorus of shrieking metal, answered that question for her. The blast-happy grubb from before had sent a volley up to the ceiling, breaking the track. The train wasn’t going anywhere now.
Last edited by FennecFyre; 04-27-2016 at 06:42 PM..
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