The group looked at one another. He was lucky they hadn't all turned on one another yet, much less getting them to work together to get past a trained and well armed squad of Republic troops. Glancing at Prasu, he raised his arm as best he could, and Jarric gave the lamproid an annoyed glare. The alien loosened its coils around the man after giving a warning hiss, and the contact was able to speak again. "I... I handle, some of the tech for my employers... I should be able to rig something up if  you buy me enough time. And if somebody will let me use my arms." Prasu gave the lamproid a wary look, but the creature obliged after a moment. It didn't release him fully, but rather adjusted itself to ride atop his shoulders, more like a backpack or a fanged, homicidal scarf than a mummifying clawed monstrosity.

    As Prasu moved over to the cells and began ripping out portions of the field emitter, Jarric turned back to the door. They were pinned down, and from the sounds of it the group outside had more guards en route. He didn't particularly want to get made if a firefight ensued- it was bad enough that the Hutts wanted his head on a platter, without involving the Republic as well. There was also the matter of working jobs for the Republic in the future- something he doubted they'd allow him to do if he was locked up in a brig somewhere. And if any of his old contacts found out he was still alive, much less a prisoner of war...

    No. A shootout simply wasn't acceptable, though that didn't mean he had to let the guards figure that out. Without moving outside the doorway he popped his blaster around the corner and released a volley upwards, hoping to rain debris from the ceiling down and hopefully cause some confusion amongst the ranks of the guards. He jerked his hand back just before a volley of blaster fire came barreling in, scoring the wall and edges of the doorway. The two other prisoners recoiled, taking a step or two back, but didn't look like they were ready to lay down arms... just not ready to jump into a firefight with the large group outside.

    A loud voice came over the facility's speaker system. "Attention! Prisoners are attempting to escape. The facility is going into lockdown... all armed personnel are to report to their posts. Prisoners, lay down your arms immediately, or we will respond with appropriate force." The female prisoner snarled and spotting the nearest speaker put a blaster shot through it. "Screw you!" She yelled past the doorway, and was met with another round of blaster fire, causing her to leap back, though Jarric could tell the woman's back was up now... if they didn't find a way out of here, someone was probably going to try something stupid, and he wasn't in a particularly stupid mood today.

    Prasu, as if in response to his concerns, trudged back over with the lamproid wrapped around his shoulders, its multiple clawed appendages digging into his ragged clothing as he handed Jarric what looked like a miniature shock stick. He couldn't help but give the contact a confused look, but Prasu grinned. "It's not pretty, but I believe that will do as a makeshift concussion grenade. Lob it out there and the flash of energy and force of the emitter overloading should put those guards on their backs long enough for us to beat feet. Unless you've got a better plan, that is."

    Jarric shook his head, moving towards the doorway as he spoke. "Nope, and I'm guessing we've only got about one minute before they have this entire base locked down. We'll need to make for the maintenance room, so stick close to me." The others stayed close to him, though the two with the blaster rifles made him nervous... if they decided to try anything funny, there wouldn't be room to swing around and fight them. No time for worrying about what he couldn't prevent though. Jarric crouched slightly, and lobbed the improvised explosive out into the hallway. The guards gave a short cry of distress when there was a reverberating sound that made his ear's pop even from inside the room, and a flash of blue energy that lit up the hallway. "Alright, come on!" he shouted, and moved down the hallway as fast he could manage.

    The two with the blaster rifles could've outpaced him, but to their credit they stayed close, though he was sure they were contemplating picking off a couple of the incapacitated guards. On the ground, the guards writhed and kept their hands planted on their eyes, a few even seemed to have some blood coming from their ears, eyes, or nose, but Jarric didn't have time to worry about that. He hadn't had to kill any of them, and he hadn't been made so far... things were looking up. The group made it to the maintenance room, and everyone slipped inside. As soon as Prasu cleared the doorway, Jarric punched in the control to close off the door, then blasted the console. He was just starting to feel a sense of relief when he heard them.

    Voices. And shuffling from nearby. Looking past the fans he saw the maintenance hatch he'd slipped down through, and heard someone, or more likely a group of someone's, coming down towards them. He had to think fast, and so he scanned the room, his eyes finally falling on another door near the far side of the room. Motioning for the others to keep quiet, he moved towards it as quickly and quietly as he could manage, his knee implant whining slightly after the sprint down the hallway. Opening this door revealed a large, dead-end room that went inwards for several yards. The left side of the room seemed to be a lowered water circulatory passage, that seemed to be activated by a control station standing next to it. The only other thing were the stacks of crates, similar to those he'd brought in earlier.

    They all slipped inside, the dim light giving everything an odd yellowish tinge as the female prisoner shut the door and pressed close to listen for anyone coming towards them. Moving further into the room, he began searching for some other way out, since his original entry point had now been compromised. There seemed to be only two ways in or out- the main entrance that they'd now sealed off, and the exit hatch for the water system- this would likely lead down into a purifier pump where waste and impurities would be pumped out somewhere outside smelling range of the main base. It might be possible to slip out that way, but he didn't know about his companions abilities to swim... not to mention how disgusting swimming through a pump that sifted human waste sounded to him.

    A blaster shot startled him into turning around. The devaronian turned, along with his female companion and Jarric saw them level their blasters on him. Of course, now they'd choose to go all back stabbing Separatist on him. It was the woman who spoke. "Didn't recognize you at first, but I'm sure you're the one. The cybernetics were a nice touch, but you aren't leaving here, Jarric Harn. They say you killed Manya the Hutt in cold blood, and her family has a price on your head so big the one to collect could get set up real nice. Some place far away from this pain in the ass planet. We'll take you out and swim out to the run-off area, then make our way back to the Separatist camp by ourselves. Shouldn't take much proof to show we killed you... maybe we'll leave the ears intact." The devaronian just glared, and Prasu started to move back, the lamproid making a confused clicking sound. The woman's rifle moved faster than anyone could react and a blaster bolt seared the side of the lamproid's head, causing it to thrash and knock Prasu down to the floor before it skittered away.

    "We'll take care of you as well, you damn bug." The devaronian growled, keeping his weapon aimed at Jarric. The woman put him in her sights as well, and Jarric rested his hands near his weapons, taking a slow breath. He tried to clear his mind, to prepare himself for the firefight about to erupt. Their standoff was shattered by the loud rumbling and metal grinding as the wall beside the canal in the floor opened up and water rushed in. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal, except for the lamproid standing over the controls, issuing the command to close off the exit for said water and tearing the control panel off its stand. The wall of water that had rushed in immediately washed over them, bringing the water up above their ankles and beginning to rise rapidly. Prasu gasped, dragging  himself off the floor as the water soaked him.

    Jarric didn't have time to hesitate, even as the two by the door gaped at the water he drew his weapons and let fly with a barrage. The devaronian took the brunt of the hits, bolts tearing him down in moments. The female, who'd stayed closer to the door, was able to dive behind some of the crates, taking only a wing along her arm. She had dropped her gun though, and that was enough for him- he had a job to do here. Grabbing Prasu he rushed for one of the crates even as the water started to rise above their knees. He glanced over, but there was no sign of the lamproid. Dragging his contact over to one of the crates he holstered his guns and hoisted over one of the big boxes, dumping out the contents- mostly cleaning supplies and the like.

    "Here, get in one of these... when this room fills up it'll start to run out into the maintenance room and then the hallway... someone's bound to activate the emergency controls somewhere and we'll be able to ride suction out of this place!" He was already grabbing his own crate when he saw Prasu just starting at him. After a moment the man blurted. "You're insane. And an idiot, but mostly insane. How do you even know there are emergency controls!?"

    Jarric shrugged. "I don't. But it's better than trying to hold our breath until someone notices... and if we're lucky these crates will be air tight." He climbed into his own, and Prasu reluctantly did the same. Curling into a ball he activated the controls to seal off the container, and the lid popped neatly into place. Sounds were muffled, but he thought he heard the woman yelling something... then there was just sloshing and the feeling of water rising around him. Luckily the added weight of the crate, as cramped as it was, was keeping him anchored enough that he didn't float far. The box shifted and he felt it slam into something, but he had no way of knowing what.

    That had been the point when he'd first felt the dampness. Water was slowly seeping in through the bottom and he cursed under his breath. He tried to shift so that he could plug the leak, but he must've been lying on his arm strangely because it was tingling and starting to feel numb. Craning his neck to the point it was starting to ache, his cybernetic eye could pick up a darker liquid mixing with the water in the pitch blackness of the crate. During the volley of shots he'd fired his adrenaline had been pumping, but now, laying still in the crate he was finally aware of the small opening on his arm where one of the enemy blaster bolts had opened up a wound. A wound that was slowly trickling blood in the cold water. His own comfort was that the water would soon be cold enough that his arm wouldn't be aching for long.

    So that was it. Somewhere along the way, all his carefully laid plans and fast reflexes had lead him to the brilliant plan of sinking to the bottom of a water pump, curled up and bleeding inside a plasteel crate, hoping that his contact made it out alive as well. He had no idea what had happened to the woman or the lamproid, but a small part of him hoped she was alright... even if she was a back stabber, he'd never thought of drowning as a particularly pleasant way to go, and she deserved better than that. The strange alien didn't, but had a notion that something that creepy looking would be too mean to drown like a decent person.

    Somewhere amidst his thoughts, an alarm sounded and he heard distantly, quietly the voice of a woman say something in a mechanical tone. A droid? He wasn't sure, but the water was up to his ear now and he could only hear out of one. The crate suddenly shifted and he felt himself being drawn across the ground. Jarric wasn't sure how long he'd been lying in the crate, but he was thankful to be moving... at least until he felt himself enter a free fall and the entire world became a violent, turbulent whirlpool of motion that had his stomach doing barrel-rolls of its own.

    Then he crashed. The crate slammed to the bottom of something, and he could hear something loud pumping- like the heart of some great leviathan come to swallow him up, crate and all. The water rose dramatically and he realized the lid was starting to come unsealed so he gulped in what air he could, and activating the combat piston in his knee implant, he slammed his foot into the top of the crate. The lid flew off and water rushed in so fast he felt like someone had punched his chest, and it was all the cramped smuggler could do to keep the breath held in his lungs. His cybernetics were thankfully proofed for submersion, though he didn't know for how long or to what extent, so he decided it was best not to stick around.

    Pushing out of the crate, he found himself in a large, circular room with blue lights along the bottom. Up top, a massive black pump had raised for its next push, as the water was pushed around by several large jets. He spotted a figure coming out of the crate near him, and realized slowly that it was Prasu, and the man was already swimming towards the bottom of the pump. He wasn't sure, but figuring the man was more mechanically inclined than himself he followed just in time to hear the pump shoot up and much of the water get sucked out of the room. For a brief second he tasted air- foul, putrid, unfiltered air filling with an even more putrid waste product and whatever chemicals the Republic had for breaking down such compost. Then the pump shot back down and what water was left, the waste, and the two human were blasted straight down into a small opening in the floor that flowed like a water slide and shot them out onto a nearby beach.

    Jarric landed face first in a mound of slime, and found himself coughing and sputtering for several moments. He wasn't sure when, but Prasu eventually made his way over and started slapping him on the back, helping him to clear his lungs. Shakily pushing himself up to a sitting position, Jarric looked himself over and winced. His arm was bleeding, he was covered in muck he was happy to never know the identity of, and the cold water had drenched him to the bone. Even in the warm weather, he was starting to shiver and he knew they'd need to find some dry clothes and a fast speeder soon. Prasu chuckled at him. "Well, I'll give you this. Your rescues aren't pretty, but you get the job done. Let's get out of here." The contact offered him his hand, and Jarric took it wearily, pulling himself up to his feet.

    Looking around, he could see they were on some sort of beach... he didn't think they were anywhere near an ocean, so it was likely just a very large lake or some sort of inlet. He didn't have time to worry about the geography of the place though. Turning he looked around and saw a marked path leading back up to the top of Point Kain. He knew they'd take too long traveling by foot, and so he was going to need to slip up there and get that speeder if they wanted to make the rendezvous on time. Glancing over he pointed Prasu towards some brush and debris. "You wanna wait here while I get the speeder? I'll have an easier time slipping in if it's just me, and I don't want any of them recognizing you." Prasu just nodded tiredly, wandering over and collapsing off to the side. Jarric took a breath and started a trudging walk up the hill to fetch the speeder.

    It took Jarric a good 10 minutes of walking to reach the base. The place was swarming with guards, which would've been an issue but the sentries quickly recognized him as the militia soldier who'd helped out their boys, and were happy to wave  him inside. Once there he did his best to act nonchalant and walk over to his speeder. He was just climbing into the pilot's side when someone cleared their throat near his head. Jarric had to force himself not to jump out of his skin as he turned and saw one of the officers looming over him.

    "And what do we have here!? You're dripping wet... let me guess, you damned irregulars were using the showers again, weren't you? Stealing hot water from my men. I should have you locked away... let me tell you something friend, we don't take kindly to that sort of thing around here. What's your name? Hm? Oh never mind, I'm sure this vehicle is registered. You can go but you better believe I'm going to have a long chat with your superiors!" The man's nasally voice prattled on as Jarric just watched him, mouth gaping as the officer stormed off towards the mess tent. After the day he'd had, he couldn't help but laugh. Of all the blasted things to be in accused of, that one hadn't been on the list.

    Jarric pulled the speeder up to the side of the lake as fast as he could, looking around for Prasu. He didn't immediately spot him, so he tried to be patient but his nerves were still on edge and he was still pretty damp from the earlier adventure, so he stomped over through the muck towards where he'd told the contact to stay put. The man was nowhere to be seen. The clacking sound was the only warning Jarric got to dive out of the way as some thing whizzed by his head. Rolling he spun around, guns drawn. The lamproid stood atop a mound of debris, hissing and clacking its toothed maw at him. Jarric immediately tried to fire off some shots, but the water must've shorted out the energy cells in his blasters... they weren't firing.

    With a groan he just stared at the alien. "So what? You're pissed because you got wet earlier? That's no reason to come after me man. Let's just put all this behind us and move on you stunted k'lor'slug ..." There was a moment, then he felt the sensations creep over his skin and the alien's voice entered his mind. An intangible air of menace surrounded it as Jarric heard the words in his head. "No... not over. Who told others you were Harn? You were wanted? Was me. Was me, human. I am Urg'am'lat, bounty hunter. I collect. I feast. You will die."

    The alien's thoughts weren't as articulate as last time, and he wondered privately if the creature's blood lust had something to do with that. Like its animal nature just taking over. Whatever it was, it was pissed and had coiled up ready to spring, and he was completely without his blasters for the time being. "Well alright then you son of a bitch. Let's dance." He did his best to take on the fighting stance he'd been taught in the militia on Dantooine, and hoped there'd be a miracle, because between its multiple arms, clawed hands, hooked beak, and probably poisoned stinger, things weren't looking so hot.

    When it happened, it happened fast. First the lamproid launched itself off the mound of debris, causing it to shift and throwing off the creature's aim ever so slightly. Jarric feigned a leap right then weaved left and brought his right knee up- but he'd forgotten how he'd used up the combat piston busting out of the crate. He did  his best to land a decent kick anyhow, and he did manage to keep the thing from tearing its beak into him, but then a stabbing, sharp pain tore into his leg. Jarric cried out, but managed to slam the butt of one blaster down onto the alien's head with his left hand, causing a satisfying crunch. The lamproid screamed in rage, as much telepathically as vocally, and Jarric fell back, the centipede form crashing down on top of him. He lay there, waiting for the feeling of a hooked beak tearing into his flesh when there was a loud crash and the lamproid's weight shifted, then went still.

    He finally opened his eyes, and his vision seemed blurred. Prasu stood over him holding a large tree branch covered in gore. He was dragging Jarric somewhere, whispering something... but his face looked like he was yelling. The smuggler's head swam and he found himself falling into sleep. When he opened his eyes again, they were in the speeder heading somewhere at top speeds as Prasu piloted it through some dense brush and around burned out defense emplacements from long-since shifted battle lines. Jarric mumbled something, but after a couple of tries he must've gotten through because Prasu glanced at him. "Hey, you still with me? Look, I, uh... sorry, about that. I didn't know what to do when that thing showed up, so I hid. I think I killed it, but not fast enough. Its stinger must've nicked you somehow. Everything below your implant is... er..."

    Prasu's voice trailed off and Jarric just felt dizzy, but he managed to look down. His foot was fine. He didn't know what Prasu was so upset over, his foot looked marvelous. His nice shiny boot and the shoe laces and... he blinked and realized there was only the one. Jarric's face paled and he passed out once more. When he came to, they were stopped. Prasu must've injected him with a stim of some sort because he felt a little more coherent. When he looked up, Prasu did his best to smile reassuringly. "Yeah, sorry for the dramatic reveal... but those aliens are highly poisonous. The implant in your knee was all that kept that poison isolated, but I had to chop off what was left beneath that. You're getting paid for this, right? I'm sure you can get a cybernetic leg... or something."

    The man turned away and Jarric just looked down as his amputated leg in stunned silence. It was true the reward would probably cover some kind of medical cybernetic replacement... but still. It was his freaking leg! He shook his head and laid back, content that he'd at least completed his contract. And at the end of the day, that was what mattered right? Do the job, get the credits, try to be a decent person about it, and don't get shot. He took a steadying breath and turned towards Prasu. "You know the price of doing business Prasu?" The man blinked and looked at him a little puzzled. "What's that?" Jarric laughed maniacally for a moment, then smiled pleasantly at him.

    "An arm and a leg." Prasu just blinked, then furrowed his brow. "Maybe you need more drugs..." Jarric just laughed as the contact injected him with something, and before long his eyes drifted closed and all was darkness, and that darkness started to look like space, then the hyper-lanes. He knew he was dreaming, but in his dream he was whole, and piloting his first ship through a space battle, sure that this was the end of the line for him. But it never seemed to be. You fought like hell, sometimes you lived and sometimes a giant damned centipede came up and tore your leg off. Just the price of doing business.