Madlands

34. Gone Soft

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They were alone in the small bay just inside the airlock, but that wouldn't last for long.

Sheen's scanshield would have wiped out the surveillance holocam lurking in the upper corner of the bay (as all the device needed was a general line-of-sight to run its interference). Station security, surely watching the feed from this docking bay intently, would have caught the airlock being forced open and then darkness. The chances that their guests were a hapless Ministry crew were dwindling with every passing moment.

A greeting party would be on its way.

The scanshield was far from perfect stealth tech, and not right for every situation. As their team would move through the station, each ensuing holocam failure would reveal where they'd gone next. But for this mission, obscuring their identities and the specifics of their activities would be better than trying to stay off the radar entirely. That simply wasn't realistic in a high security setting like a prison.

They needed to keep moving.

Stay with me, and remember, we'll need an active officer—selective targeting.

Mando led them ahead, out of the docking bay, and into a wide service corridor. This part of the station still looked and smelled like a Ministry fuelling station—utilitarian and unglossy. According the old plans, this corridor skirted around the former holding tanks and service rooms. If they found an exit to their left, they would take it, and might just walk right into a cell block. A large set of heavy doors came into view as the corridor continued to curve. They led in the right direction.

Mando was about to signal his team through the doors, still five metres ahead, when they slid open. Two Troopers emerged, walking calmly as if on routine patrol, and then turned to come face to face with three Mandalorians in battle formation. They had only a chance to look to each other before they hit the floor. The comms on one of the fallen Troopers rang out.

Unit Seven divert to airlock Nine-Delta! Suspected intruders at Nine-Delta.

Mando bent down, pressed the switch on the Trooper's helmet, and gave it a shot.

Copy that, Nine-Delta.

He then signalled to Paz, who slammed the door release button before they resumed formation.

Dozens of people turned to look at them. People elbow-deep in vats of soapy water, people holding the nozzles of fine-mist sprayers at the end of coiled tension-hoses, people pushing bins of what looked like linens. They all wore white jumpsuits. While the crowd's activity slowed to a halt, the active machines kept churning at the end of the long open room. Sheen's voice came over Mando's right shoulder.

I think we found some of the prisoners. Work duty. She here?

Mando scanned the room. They kept their weapons raised. Only half of the prisoners bothered raising their hands while the rest looked more curious than anything else. He could not see Grey.

I don't see her but we need to be sure.

He called out to the room.

I need to see everyone in this room. Get everyone out where I can't see them.

Several additional jumpsuits shuffled into view from around pillars and out from behind industrial dryers.

Yeah, I think that's everyone, pal. Now who the kark are you?