It was his blaster that saved him.
The shot hit the barrel dead on, melting the dedlanite, making the weapon useful only as a club.
Face slowly picked himself up off the floor, coughing away the acrid smoke, his eyesight blurry, his hands and chest sore from the heat of the explosion.
'Taung sa rang broka Mando'ade ka'rta!' came a voice to intrude on his dazed mind, the words coming back as a memory made living, and his head and eyes cleared, focused on Ka'iulani and Garan attacking the captain. Or rather, the captain beating down the two Nexus, as even outnumbered Skirata easily had the upper hand on this fight. Face looked around him and picked up the broken blaster, before realising that it was useless, then decided to use it a cudgel. He charged the captain, bringing down the weapon a wild, powerful swing, but the captain dodged it with ease and the captain brought his hand up onto the underside of Face's outstretched arm, connecting at the elbow, bending it up painfully, and the blaster fell from his useless fingers.
Where it had failed as an attack, it succeeded as a distraction. Ka'iulani took the moment to take a swipe at Skirata's legs, felling him to the floor. Face dived for Skirata's hand and wrestled with him for the blaster pistol, kneeing him in the stomach, again and again, the captain finally relinquishing his hold only when Garan pointed a blaster in his face.
'Move and I shoot,' Garan growled at the prone officer, who stilled. Face stood and pointed his pistol at him, as did Ka'iulani, after having retrieved hers. Skirata looked at them, one by one. There was no fear there, just a cold, calculating stare.
'You've got me,' Skirata said. 'Now what are you going to do with me?'
The three Nexus looked at each other, silently having a conversation with each other. After a moment they came to an understanding, and Garan brought the heel of his boot down hard on the officer's forehead.
'Come on,' Face urged the others, stepping over the unconcious captain. His commlink bleeped, but he ignored it.
The nurses outside were hiding behind counters, hidden in rooms, and they paid them no mind, making straight for OR-3, where they burst into the room, blaster held high - only to find that they were superfluous to requirements.
The surgeons were still hard at work, hunched over a still open Fenn. They worked under Tarrik's imperious gaze and upheld blaster pistol. He grinned and waved at the newcomers, his tone light and friendly as he said, 'hey guys!'
The others waved back, a little nonplussed. They were not expecting things to go so well.
Face started to speak, then his commlink began beeping again. He took it off his utility belt and answered. 'Talk to me.'
'We've got an incoming message, One' said Vix, without preamble.
'What's it say?'
'Unknown,' Vix replied. 'It's encrypted.'
'Blast,' Face swore. 'It's going to have to wait. Listen: things have gone a bit sideways here, but we're on top of things for now. We might need a few distractions. Let the others know.'
'Understood.'
'Prep the ship,' Face ordered, 'we might need a pick up and a quick exit. Got that? Nine? Do you copy?' Face shook his commlink, then banged it against the wall for good measure. 'Sithspit,' he swore again.
'What's wrong?' Ka'iulani asked, from her position at the door, covering their exit.
'I think we're being jammed.'
Then the lights went out.
A second later, Ka'iulani and Garan switched on their blaster's flashlights, bringing some light to the dark room.
'Throw some of that light over here,' Tarrik said, 'my surgeons can't see what they're doing. Garan ran to a corner and stood on a table and held his blaster up high, shining his light on the operating table. Lucky, thought Face, the surgeons had been caught as unaware of the blackout as the Nexus and hadn't thought to attack their hostage takers.
'Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu!' called out a voice somewhere in the dark hallway. Face recognised the voice of captain Skirata, and then recognised the words, memories from the Clone Wars, of clones chanting the Dha Werda Verda, Rage of the Shadow Warriors, a war dance taught to them by their mercenary trainers. The clones would perform it before battle, and afterwards, in victory. The words had instilled a confidence in him then. They sent a shiver down his spine now.
'That's one tough Mandalorian,' Ka'iulani grumbled.
'Mandalorian?' Face blanched. Suddenly he was a lot less confident in their position.
And then, overhead and all around them, the sirens sounded.
