Operation: Warden


At Rolf's command, the Sicariun and Carlyle headed off to complete their mission. From his position, Rolf saw the Sicariun climb a wall on the side of the building and enter a ventilation duct. Meanwhile, Carlyle was covering the Sicariun's entrance. After the Sicariun was safely (relatively speaking) inside, Carlyle headed inside the entrance. Rolf ordered the fireteam to do the same. When Rolf entered the building, he heard the rain bouncing off his helmet. Immediately, he ordered his EC to stop the sound. Now that the sound was gone, Rolf focused on taking the room.

Nearby, a soldier was firing covering bursts around a corner. The fireteam was calibrating their ECs and drawing out carbines and machine pistols, or shortening their rifles. Rolf, with a command from his EC, flipped the visor up, and switched off the EC targeting system. It didn't much like bladed weapons with only a few feet maximum range. Just as this was completed, Carlyle decided to take over the job of covering fire from the other soldier. Instead of using the corner for cover, Carlyle deployed the tripod of his machine gun and dove right around the corner, nearly out of sight of the fireteam. Get back behind cover! Rolf IM'd to Carlyle. It was ignored. Just then, a round ripped through Carlyle's arm. At that moment, a smoke grenade sounded, to be added to by the sound of slashing. The Sicariun was performing admirably. Rolf send out an IM to the closest available medic to get to Carlyle's position and treat his wound.

With the hallway cleared, Rolf led the fireteam to the room he had planned on taking. When he broke in, there were two slavers cowering behind a box. They immediately dropped their weapons and held their arms up. "Take these two back to the dropship," Rolf ordered two of the fireteam. "Tie them up when you get there. If they try to escape, summary execution." To the surrendered slavers, "You understand this right? If you comply with my men, you will be treated well, but you will still be POW's. If you try to escape, you will be treated as enemy combatants." The slavers nodded, and were sent off with the fire and manoeuvre team. Rolf sent out an IM to all available combatants, Need all available fireteams from ODS 3 to position marked on map. Ready for CQB, taking building.


Smoke billowed around him like a thick choking cloud, unable to see his own hand in front of his face Jacquen's other senses went into overdrive; a cough quickly followed by the stench of sweat he was nearby. Drawing his other blade Jacquen slowly began to stalk his prey comfortable in the knowledge that it wouldn't realise the danger it was in before it was too late. A shadow materialised out of the cloud as the slaver; his weapon held in a death grip as he practically blundered into Jacquen.
Without even hesitating the Sicariun sent his knife into a brutal vertical slash, parting flesh as he sliced open the mans face before driving the bladae into the mans neck, his second blade thrusting deep into the mans chest in a killing blow. There was no attempt to stop the mans cries, knowing full well the effect they would have on the other two lost within the smoke.
However he had no sooner begun hunting his next victim when the officer and his fire team stormed the room, Jacquen's EC pinging wildly to warn him of the friendly’s approaching his position.
A look of disgust spread across the Sicariun's face as he watched the officer take the remaining two captive, muttering "This one would sooner have their blood" as he replced his contacts, knowing full well that the humans would be wanting light stronger than his eyes could deal with in order to see.
As the smoke cleared and the fire team quickly took up position Jacquen wandered over to where the machine gunner sat, clutching at the wound in his arm. A smile spread across his face as he beamed with admiration "A fine scar you will have Day walker this one see's your courage" he spoke quietly, his own face and body covered with scars, each one a mark of his valour and more importantly his ability to survive.


Frank received the message from Rolf and hoisting up his machine gun ran across the soft and muddy ground into the hallway and down the hallway into the room where he had sent it from. He saw Rolf and said "I've got a chaingun, what do you want me to take?"


(Nice idea Peril, I'll join as I haven't done a sci-fi RP for a while)

Name: Sergeant Tom 'Old Man' Walker
Age: 36
Race: Human
Specialization: Soldier
Weapon: Thin-Beam Rapid Fire Laser Rifle, secondary Handgun.
Bio:was born on the human colony Thropol III to a long-standing military family, he joined the Colony Defense Force at 18, and served for a few years before resigning and working as a security officer safeguarding trading ships, after a good 7 years he joined the PCC and has been serving since, rising to the rank of Sergeant.

Need all available fireteams from ODS 3 to position marked on map. Ready for CQB, taking building.
Tom looked at the message on his EC as he crouched behind cover, the new recruits next to him firing blindly at anything and everything that moved.
scrambling onto his feet he dashed across the open ground, his heavy booted feet sinking into the mud as he ran, panting heavily inside his armour.
he wasn't getting any younger. why was he still doing this?
putting the thoughts out of his mind he ran into the building, down the hallway and into the room where a small group of PCC soldiers were preparing for the next attack, one of them was his platoon commander, Lt Rolf Helmfrid.
"Sir! Sergeant Tom Walker reporting for duty!" he panted breathlessly.

Deleted User - 819397

Trace saw the Sicquen and the friendly human working together as he entered the building, so he decided to help them out. He briefly considered using his Triskelion lunge to gouge the enemies, but dismissed the idea, as it was too likely he'd be hit by something his allies fired. Sniping wouldn't work, as it would eliminate the reflexes needed in this close-quarters setup. That left the basic blaster...

Trace returned to normal form, running up to see that for the moment there was no opposition. The friendly human was clutching his arm, and the Sicquen was complimenting him on a fine battle scar. Looking, Trace could see traces of blood that had escaped before the wound had sealed. He was intrigued...the color almost matched his own...red blood...how interesting. For his own part, he didn't say anything, instead keeping an eye out for any incoming hostiles.


(Thought the prisoners were different slavers than the ones Jacquen killed...)

A few minutes after Rolf's IM was sent out, about 12 soldiers had responded. With Rolf and his remaining men, that was enough to start clearing out the building. "Ok, I want groups of three." Rolf took a moment to look at the nameplates of the assembled soldiers. "Walker, take Privates Jones and Tarrock and clear the northwest area. Trace, take Septis and Jun, clear the southwest. Jacquen, take Ponto and Daggerfeld, clear the southeast. Jefferson, take Quixote and Alonso, clear the northeast. I'll take Carson and Jeeves. We'll start clearing the second floor. More teams will be assigned as they are made. Understood? Now go!"

(I might add more to this later, the exploits of Rolf and his team on the second floor. I just wanted to establish this first to see if it's agreeable with everybody, or if you want it a different way.)


(OOC: I'm good. And does this mean that these to NPCs are under my control or under Peril's, I'm not sure so I'll let Peril have them for now.)
Frank heard his orders and beckoned to the two men. "Right then," he said "What weaponry do you guys have?"


Jacquen turned to look at the two men he'd been assigned...well one man and a Quarian, Jacquen had no way of telling if it was male or female behind the mirrored glass of its visor, though neither of them looked particularly comfortable being under his command. Raising a hand over his shoulder he waves the two of them to follow him as he started making his way into the south eastern section of the building.
The corridors were deathly silent, only the distant sounds of gunfire could be heard as he took point leading his small team forward, periodically glancing down at his EC to check their positions within the building. Reaching a door Jacquen waves the Quarian; Daggerfeld to the left hand side of the doorway as he took the right, placing his left hand on the door release and gripping his SMG with the right leaving Ponto to take up a firing position in front of the door. Both of his men carried Morrita smart rifles; the standard projectile armament for the PCC much more accurate weapon and with a greater stopping power than his own weapon.
Looking the two of them in the eye (or at least where he assumed the Quarian’s eyes were) to see if they were ready Jacquen silently counts down to zero before pulling the door release. The corridor is filled with and explosion of sound as the small group of slavers returned fire at the three PCC troopers. Holding his weapon at eye level Jacquen made quick aimed bursts smiling as his weapon found its mark felling a slaver with a round to the chest. With three of their number down the remaining two slavers quickly begin pulling back towards the door behind them, diving out from his own door Jacquen urges his men to follow, emptying the remainder of his magazine in a long sweeping burst of fire taking one of the slavers in the knee and sending the other one running. Following Jacquen's example the other two quickly dash across the room taking up positions either side of the door as Jacquen slides another magazine into his weapon, a burst of fire quickly prompting the two PCC troopers to return fire through the open door into the next room. With his weapon loaded Jacquen makes to advance only to catch the pained sobs coming from a corner, scanning the room he see's a man huddled in the corner grasping his heavily bleeding knee; it was the man he'd shot trying to run away. Striding towards the man with a determined look in his eye, Jacquen draws one of his daggers, seeing the blade the slaver quickly starts babbling for mercy only to have his cries cut short as the blade is forced up and under his chin, his body twitching before finally falling still.
With the inconvenient survivor dealt with Jacquen went to advance with the rest of his team.

Deleted User - 819397

Trace looked at the human dictating what he should do for a moment before realizing he was a senior officer, meaning his orders had to be followed. He switched to that mindset effortlessly and, without waiting for the two he'd been assigned to extricate themselves from the group, ran to the southwest. Upon reaching the designated area, separated from the rest by a closed door, he motioned for the stronger-looking of the two to break open the door. He then switched to sniping for a moment. The door flew open, and Trace killed a slaver with the Imperialist before they even knew what was happening. Then of course it was too hectic to snipe, so he switched to his basic blaster. He wasn't a great shot with it, but enough found their mark to make shooting worthwhile.


You have not been frightened until you have been the recipient of a Vortag Charge.

With a shotgun that would look like a cannon in the hands of smaller creatures, "Gunny" - as Lieutenant Rolf liked to call him - burst through a door. A pair of slavers had barred the portal from the inside and had sat up a killbox just inside the door. Both of the slavers fired their weapons right into Vortag's shields. The massive Vortag slowed for a short moment, as the bullets ricocheted off his armor, before charging forward with all his might.

He put a shoulder into the belly of the nearest slaver with enough force to send him careening through the air. Just as the first slaver smashed into the far wall with enough force to break bones, Vortag brought the massive Vortag-Made shotgun in his hands and pulled the trigger on the second. Propelled backwards, the front of his heavy armor in shreds, the second slaver hit the ground in a spray of crimson that splattered the floor and stuck to Vortag's boots as he tromped past.

The room he found himself in was ordinary in almost every way. It could be inside any building, anywhere, in any system. A few boxes were stacked into cupboards in a far wall and a free standing display hovered atop a desk. Before the attack, the slavers were watching a movie -- Vortag shut it off with his EC. His EC already on his arm, Vortag scanned the room with it -- just to be sure he had not missed anything that might be useful. The display was quiet for a moment, before a detailed three dimensional blueprint of the room he stood in appeared, the difference being that this one had another door.

Stomping over to the stacked boxes, Vortag heaved them aside with all his might, a few splitting open and spilling their contents across the floor -- thermal clips, some titillating magazines and the like littered the room. Standing, previously hidden by the boxes, was a blast door. The vortag tried to make the door open, but whatever kept it sealed was beyond his expertise in hacking.

"A fine scar you will have Day walker this one see's your courage"

The heavy armor he wore could be dismantled easily by command. Jack asked his EC to disconnect the armor that covered his right arm -- though you could hardly called the twisted hunk of sheered metal armor anymore. It fell to the ground with a hollow clatter, as Jack lifted his arm into the sunlight to view it better. If Jacquen had taken a few extra seconds to climb the wall, if he'd fumbled whilst removing his contact lenses inside the air vent, if he had done one thing differently then Jack would be dead right now, and his nightmare would finally be over.

With a tone that was neither angry nor friendly, Jack added "If you had taken a few more seconds I wouldn't still be here." Jack winced at the burning agony that came when he moved his arm.

"Jacquen, take Ponto and Daggerfeld, clear the southeast." Lieutenant Rolf ordered, just as the medic that was to take care of Jack's arm came through the door.

Mud covered the front of his armor, but you could tell by the awkward way he fumbled with the weapon he carried that this man was no killer. Medics long ago wore red crosses on their uniforms to announce their non-combative status on the battlefield. People soon realized that shooting a Medic would kill another ten enemies at least, and after awhile the red cross was nothing but a great target painted on your back. Nowadays medics wore no such distinction.

The medic looked over Carlyle's wound before simply applying a topical painkiller and wrapping it in plain white gauze. By the time the medic was done most of the fighting in the final building was done, only the occasional shot could be heard through the labyrinth of corridors and passageways. "That should be fine for the rest of the battle. It won't sting and burn anymore. Once we get on board report to the med bay and speak with one of the nurses there." The medic advised, before picking up his bag and leaving.

A radio had been set up in the room just inside the door, sitting upon the desk. The final reports from ODS 1 and 2 came through. "Confirmed slavers." Each transmission said "No survivors, no hostages. Negative on intel."

Meanwhile, scratching his massive shovel shaped head, Vortag brought his EC up once more. He thought about the people in the unit who might be able to hack the door with their ECs and open it wide. There was the Kriken -- he had already demonstrated his EC's ability to render him invisible, maybe it could do more. Jacquen the Sicariun might be able to help. Then there was Lieutenant Rolf and the other humans in the squad Walker, Carlyle and Jefferson.

Reaching his decision, Vortag sat up a party communication with all six of them "This is Vortag." he paced in front of the door as he spoke to them "Your EC's will inform you of my position, I am not taking fire but need assistance. Come as soon as you are able. Vortag out."


(Zemmy, your call as to what you want the guys to have. You can even throw out the names if you think they're rubbish.)

With the assignments made, and the teams heading out, Rolf took his men to the nearby staircase that led up to the second floor of the building. It was a traditional designed staircase, contained in its own tall room, with doors opening up at every level. The staircase itself would be a death trap, if any of the slavers were smart enough to put a machine gun at the top floor. From there, you could look down and see every level. The only safe place would be to hug the wall. And if they set traps next to the doors, that would also be bad. So, Rolf ordered his men to proceed with caution as they opened the door to the staircase.

As the door opened, everybody braced themselves for an explosion. After eight seconds, there was nothing, and the group moved up the staircase, staying as close to the wall as they could. When they got to the second floor door, the team stopped and observed it for any traps. When they determined it was clean, They opened the door and entered the second floor.

The second floor split off into two directions from the staircase. According to the map of the building, the left was the shorter direction, so they would go that way. It occured to the team that the floor was very quiet, no activity at all. Maybe the slavers had all gone to the roof, or maybe they were waiting to ambush the team. They headed down the hallway, watching every corner, every shadow for an enemy. They reached a dead end a few minutes later without seeing a door or window. As the group started to head back, they heard what sounded like a stampede. Rolf ordered his men to hide behind a corner in the hallway. The stampede sound grew louder, and a minute later, slavers started to pour pass them, too focused on making it to the end of the hallway before the PCC soldiers escaped to notice they were passing the soldiers. When most of the slavers had passed, Rolf made his move. With a quick slash of his große Messer, a slaver fell, another slash, another slaver. The others got the idea and started firing their Morrita carbines. With the last few slavers of the column dead, and the other slavers taking notice, and coming back, Rolf started to get second thoughts about his plan. Didn't matter now, he thought, as he put his weapons away, took out a grenade, slid a fragmentation sleeve over a grenade, and threw it out. The explosion thinned the back of the herd, just as the front started to come. Carson and Jeeves started to fire as Rolf pulled out his pistol and Messer again, and fired. "Cover me, I'm going in," Rolf ordered, and started advancing, using his pistol to clear his path of projectiles until his Messer could cut down slavers. A few minutes later, the ambush party was dead, along with the demise of Rolf's helmet. "Come on, let's clear out the rest of the floor." The group headed back to the staircase, and this time went down the right hallway.


"Sir Yes Sir!" Walker replied to hsi commander before saluting. "Come on, let's move!" he said, turning to the two troopers he'd been assigned, Jones and Tarrock. the trio moved out of the hallway into the northwest sector, the first corridor presenting no opposition. someway down split into two branches, one going to the northeast sector, with the other leading to the northwest wall. suddenly a burst of laser fire arced down the corridor and hit Jones head on, with a scream the trooper fell to the ground, a smoking hole in the middle of his visor, which was now splattered with splodges of crimson.
Tom and Tarrock immedietly moved into the branch of the corridor. crouching down.
Tom sent a message over his EC; This is Sergeant Walker broadcasting to all units availiable to assist in building, have taken one KIA, pinned down, unknown assailant covering corridor. do not attempt to approach via main northwest corridor, broadcasting current position. he followed the message with a map reference as to his location.
he turned to Tarrock; "Are you left handed trooper?"
"No sir."
"Me neither." Tom replied before getting down into the prone position and peering around the corner at ground level.
he scanned the corridor, his EC using infra-red to pick up his attacker.
Got it! he could see a rifle muzzle, and a heat signature, portruding from a behind a door.

Deleted User - 819397

Trace heard his EC chirp, followed by a message from Vortag. The men he'd brought with him were finishing off the last of the slavers, so he turned into the triskelion and scuttled to the position Vortag had marked via EC. He then returned to normal and, without a word to anyone, he leaned against a nearby wall and waited to receive orders. He realized he hadn't said a word to anyone since joining the unit. He was indifferent to the thought...words weren't priority in a combat situation. In fact, oftentimes they blurred what was important and what wasn't, hurting soldiers. Commanding officers should be the only ones who need to speak in battle...common soldiers didn't need to say anything. They weren't important. In fact, the commanding officers weren't important. No one in the universe mattered except the Kriken Emperor. Trace's job was to further his Emperor's wishes. Nothing more, nothing less.


A derisive sneer came to the Sicariun's face as the Vortag sergeants message came through on his EC, military rules and doctrine demanded that he complied with the order but he would be damned if he was going to rush back just because a Vortag wanted him.
No...he can wait Jacquen thought to himself, firing a short burst of fire in the direction of the remaining group of slavers barricaded behind some oil drums. They had driven the slavers back all the way through this quadrant, leaving the odd casualty here and there and now they were trapped, there was nowhere left to run and there was no one left to help them.
As the sound of small arms chattered noisily all around him Jacquen started to notice the slackening off in return fire coming from the slavers before it suddenly ceased all together the sound of panicked voices whispering furiously amongst one another before finally one of them called to surrender, waving a tattered white shirt above the barricade.
As his own men suddenly stopped firing Jacquen was hit by the eerie silence filling the room now that the shooting had stopped, noting how the smell of cordite and ozone hung in the air like a mist. Activating his EC's comm’s unit, Jacquen quickly made his report "South eastern quadrant secure, prisoners taken no casualties sustained...over and out" leaving Ponto and Daggerfeld to secure the prisoners Jacquen began to make his way to the Vortag's position.


Just inside the door of the lobby, Carlyle listened to the radio chatter absently. He'd been left out of the final push due to the injury. He tilted his head back against the wall behind him and kept his thoughts on the battle. The numbness was kept at bay when he occupied his mind with something else.

Outside the rain still poured. It seemed like the rain never stopped on this planet, though the fresh smell that blew into the building from the open door was a welcome change to the sterile smell of a starship or the smell of the spent thermal clips discarded around the floor. Placing the stock of his rifle on the ground he used it to help himself to his feet and walk to the doorway, where he leaned against it and looked outside. A couple of the slavers captured in building 3 were already being escorted through the rain to the drop ship. Jack didn't really see the point in taking prisoners, these were just stupid mercs paid to guard a compound only recently emptied of slaves. It would save plenty of money to just line them up against a wall and blow their brains out.

Jack smiled at the thought of human brains coating a wall. That would be something to see.

"This is Vortag." Jack's sergeant's face appeared on a free standing display upon his arm. Jack held it out in front of him and listened "Your EC's will inform you of my position, I am not taking fire but need assistance. Come as soon as you are able. Vortag out."

Nodding, Jack closed his EC and grabbed his machine gun by the middle. He fiddled with the weapon's strap momentarily as he walked, before he looped it around his shoulder and let it bounce mertily around his waist. He was so close today. It was a bitter pill to swallow that it would probably be weeks before he got his next chance. But dwelling on it would just bring the numb back. Jack bit the inside of his cheek until he felt blood, the stinging sensation brought his mind back to the moment.

Jack arrived at Vortag's position a few minutes after the Kriken and skittered into the room and changed into his normal form. Trace now leaned against a wall, looking grandly disinterested in Vortag, who paced in front of the door, angrily kicking it every few seconds and muttering curses at it in his own language. The human took a good look at the pair of dead humans Vortag had crushed while taking this room. "Good work." Jack called to the Sergeant, who puffed his huge nostrils in recognition and kicked the door again. Jack went to stand beside the Kriken and wait for their commanding officer to arrive.


The second floor had been cleared of slavers. Rolf's Messer was covered in blood, and Carson and Jeeves were escorting more prisoners to ODS 3, and Rolf was seeing more teams off to higher levels. Rolf put his pistol away, and took out his canteen for a drink of water. As he was doing that, two messages came in. One was from Jacquen, reporting that he had cleared his sector, and the other was from Gunny Vortag, asking for assistance with something. Seeing as Rolf had nothing better to do, he decided to see what he could do to help out.

As he was walking, Rolf was cleaning off his Messer with a cloth. When it was dry, the Messer went back into its sheath. Soon after that, Rolf was busy preparing a pipe. By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, careful to avoid the soldiers still heading to higher levels, Rolf was happily puffing away. When he arrived at the map indicator, he saw that Trace, Jacquen, and Carlyle had already beaten him there. "I am glad to see you are still alive, Carlyle," Rolf said with a smile. He then turned to the Vortag. "So, Gunny Vortag, what's giving you trouble? Glad to see it's not slavers." Rolf motioned to the remains of the slavers. A report came in over the radio that had been set up in the room from ODS 1, saying that there were no slaves in the building. A soldier from ODS 2 confirmed that for their building as well. Rolf sent a quick check to the teams in ODS 3. They had secured the building, but no slaves located. Rolf walked over to the radio and reported in. "ODS 3 has secured the designated building. Prisoners have been taken, and are being sent to the Void Warden. No slaves have been found."


Frank led his two men, Quioxte and Alonso into the north-east part. Equipped with burst rifles the plan was for them to lay down suppressing fire for him to get past. There were two slavers down the hall into the north-east section and Frank drew his pistol. After half a minute the slaver lay dead with laser's through their brains. They burst into a room with Quioxte unleashing a flash-bang grenade and as they rolled behind cover their ECs adjusted their nervous systems to deal with the grenade. It went off and as the four slavers reeled in agony Quioxte jumped up and smacked one in the back of the head and he was sent careering to the floor. Alonso took the second with a kick to the groin followed by a chest punch and then putting him into a full Nelson. Frank shot one through his weapon hand and leaped on the head of the other, They then proceeded to handcuff them. "Alonso, take them back to the ship, Quioxte head with me further into the building and we'll take some more." That moment his EC bleeped and Vortag's face appeared. After hearing his message Frank sighed. "Well then, off we go. Frank come with us until we reach Vortag."


Sauntering into the room Jacquen looked upon the carnage wrought by the Vortag with an air of distaste as he stepped over the mangled corpse of a slaver "You requested this ones presence?" Jacquen said directing the comment towards the Vortag his voice and body language displaying his obvious dislike of the sergeant whilst managing to stop just short of outright insolence.
Like all Sicariun's Jacquen held a bitter emnity towards the Vortag species, although the war between their two races had been a very long time ago the warcrimes committed by both sides during that long and brutal war meant that they weren't quite ready to bury the hatchet just yet.

He had only been in the room a few minutes when his commanding officer entered the room the foul smell of tabbacco hitting his sensitive nostrils long before he could see the offending pipe, of all the human past times it was this one that he found the most distasteful although he had to admit they made some damn fine liqours to make up for it. Leaning himself against a wall Jacquen patiently awaited orders.


Tom sat in his position, hugging the wall for cover, no-one had responded to his EC broadcast.
"We're on our own, cover me!" Tom whispered to Tarrock.
Tom scrambled to his feet and ran around the corner, his heart in his mouth, if this didn't work, he'd just be another KIA.
a burst of laser fire skimmed the front of the visor, distorting his vision.
disorientated, he stepped backwards and started firing blindly, letting his EC do the targeting, next to him he could hear Tarrock also returning fire.
as his vision returned to normal, Tom advanced down the corridor, keeping up a steady stream of fire on the slaver's position.
suddenly the door opened and the slaver made a break for it, firing blindly with his carbine, with one well-aimed shot the slaver's body twisted and fell to the floor. spraying blood across the walls.
Tom lowered his rifle and motioned for Tarrock to follow him, together they cleared the rest of the north-west sector, meeting no resistance.
as they moved back through the corridors towards Vortag and the rest of the platoon Tom sent a clearance message over his EC;
North-west quadrant of QS-3 cleared, one slaver killed, no prisoners,no slaves found, one KIA sustained.
Several minutes later Tom moved into Vortag's location. Vortag and Lt Rolf were standing in the centre of the room, around them were other soldiers that Tom didn't recognise, as well as the bodies of several slavers.
Tom saluted and stood by the wall, awaiting further orders.


Still pacing, Vortag explained why he called everyone. "This door is locked from the inside. It has a keypad out here, but I don't have the code to open it. I worry that if we just pound at the keys in hopes of hitting the right combination that it will stop functioning completely."

Jack hadn't said anything yet, but he piped up to ask a question "Why don't we just blow the thing down?"

Vortag glared at the assembled team before him, his gaze particularly angry towards Jack and the Sicariun - the Sicariun just because he didn't like them - but the anger that was pointed at Jack was a different kind altogether. "They teach you to just blow everything up in the Human PCCs? There could be anything behind this door, including slaves."

"We need someone with hacking expertise to hack the terminal and open the door." Vortag finished "So, any of you know how?"