Realisation (RP)

Sera nods and says, "That's smart. Maybe a related alternative... We launch all the escape Pods, get on none of them, and remain hidden on the space station for a short while. Once at least some of the clones launch to chase after the pods, we steal a ship with hyperspace capabilities and end this hunt. I worry about being stranded on a strange planet, with clones coming down to find us..."

I like that idea, much more than going to an unknown planet

Voss looks at her mechanical hand, slowly opening and closing it.
Where did this arm come from? It looks and feels like an industrial droid arm, not a real prothesis.

Brenya rolled onto her back, panting. She blinked up at the ceiling of the corridor like it was some kind of miracle. Out. Cramped, bruised, filthy—but out. She let out a soft, wheezy laugh. "Well den," she muttered, "that was very much not the fun tunnel ride."

She pulled herself to her feet, knees cracking in protest, and looked toward the rows of rounded pod doors. Taryn and Sera were already talking tactics. Both ideas made sense, but only one felt right.

"Yousa got it," Brenya said, nodding toward Sera. "I prefer da ship, too. Clones’ll be lookin’ to chase quick—if we’sa stay behind, hide a bit, maybe sneak off quiet-quiet… we’sa got better odds. Hyperdrive’sa better than hopin’ a pod lands us somewhere without more blaster boys."

At Voss’s question, Brenya glanced down at the mechanical arm, and her face softened with guilt — not sorrow, just honest weight. "Yeah… issa droid arm," she said quietly. "Industrial type. Cargo lifter, I think. Was what I could grab when we’sa runnin’. No clinics, no time. Yousa bleedin’ out and I’sa just—" She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "Just needed to stop the leakin’. We fix it proper, later. Me hope."

Taryn nods "That is actually a very good idea. But I sure hope one of you knows how to fly such a ship. If any of you can, then I agree. We cause a distraction with the pods and take our self a way off this station."

"I can fly, but this arm is very powerful. I just as easy break a switch as flip it." Voss points to a glass touch screen she just operated that now has a crack in it.

Left-handed or very carefully piloting was all that she could offer right now. She had been the pilot of her and her masters small ship, their home away from home.
"But between us we can fly, I'm sure of it"

Brenya perked up, ears lifting with sudden enthusiasm. "Ooooh, mesa can shoot," she said, grin spreading wide across her face. She mimed gripping turret controls, making low, throaty blaster noises with her mouth—choom-choom-choom. "Put me in a belly gun or turret pod, and I’sa lightin’ up the stars. Boom! Like fireworks but with purpose."

Sera nods and adds, "Sure, I can pilot, but I'm not great. I'd be better keeping the thing running than flying it."

She looks over at Voss experimenting with her new droid parts and says, "Lemme know if you want any adjustments to those, ok?"

"Great," Tayn says. "We have a gunner and engineer" she looks at Brenya and Sera who offered these roles for a moment. "Like you," she tells Voss, "I only know how to fly smaller ships, like two person starfighters. But we'll figure it out together. You can be my co-pilot, and I can handle the switch flipping."

Taryn stands a bit taller now. Now that they have a plan a bit of her natural arrogance, pride and command returns to her. She feels it to be her job and responcibilty to get everyone out of here...

For a moment she can see a bit of victory, as they all fly out on a ship. But then, they'll still have to figure out what is going on with the clones.