The plan was simple: rush the stinger mould farm at Whitcap Hole, take out any Savage Kittens on guard duty, get outta there.
Vints Courraine, practically as chauvinistic as a Goliath, was convinced the mayhem raid would scare up the Eschers real bad, and the territory would fall into Orlock hands; the other Jackers weren't sure it would be that easy, especially Ivan and Zam, who'd run with the Bedlam Boys as juves and had heard first-hand about the gang's bitter feud with the notorious Hellbitches. House Escher gives as good as it gets, with added venom.
Still, Vints was the boss, so he and five other Hi-Viz Jackers made the trip across Sector H8, locked and loaded.
Only three Kittens were on duty. The Jackers hustled through the drafty tunnels, seeking to strike as fast as possible. Vints directed Akilles and Dwice to stay central and cover their backs and sent Ijax and Ivan the long way round to outflank the Eschers. Vints himself led Darik straight into the heart of the tunnel maze. Already, there were distant alarms blaring - the Kittens had clocked they were coming and reinforcements were on their way. The job needed doing in a fraction of a shift.
In the end, it all went down over a five-metre stretch of corridor. Fraggle, the most senior Savage Kitten on duty, crept forward to see what was what, toting her grenade launcher. Vints saw her coming.
'Hold back,' he barked to Darik. 'I'll take her out close up. You hustle past and flame whoever's round that there corner.'
Vints charged down the corridor, chainsword buzzing like a mad sump skeeter. Fraggle, encumbered, looked ill-set to take the charge, but Vints wasn't expecting the juve rushing up behind her, living up to the Escher rep for sheer quickness. It was Kes, who'd represented the Savage Kittens in the first bout of the Ba'King's tourney.
Vints found himself facing two foes rather than one but, undeterred, he pressed his attack against Fraggle, solid strikes with boltpistol and chainsword. The Escher didn't stand a chance, but even as she fell, Vints saw it wasn't just the grenade launcher that was impeding her. She'd been lugging a bomb - a big one, at that - and dropped it at she hit the deck.
The bomb began to emit a series of staccato tones, getting faster.
But Vints didn't have time to think about that - Kes was at him, stiletto knives in hand, displaying the same ferocity she'd brought to the fight pit. She was too fast. The knives slashed Vint's hi-viz wear and he felt his flesh sizzle where they'd cut. Toxins.
It happened fast. One moment, Vints was swinging away, the next he was slumped on the floor next to Fraggle.
Kes grinned and crouched over the Orlock boss, reversing the grip on one of her knives with a deft flick of the wrist.
'I'm'a scrag you good, you sumpborn sonuva-'
The bomb went off with a crack and a harsh hiss, belching a cloud of tox gas into the corridor. Kes hadn't caught her breath, and a moment later she was on her knees, coughing up blood.
Darik Zangh took this all in from just a few paces away. Rushing the corridor hadn't really panned out..
The gas was fast acting, but fast dissipating. A few seconds later, the air was clear enough. Darik darted forward and brought his wrench crashing into the back of Kes's head, knocking her out.
'That's for the boss man,' he muttered.
He turned to see where the other Jackers were, but before he knew it, another Savage Kitten was coming at him. This was D-Face, a green juve, but she gave Darik hell. He was hard-pressed to fend off her knife swipes and couldn't get a decent swing in with his wrench.
Elsewhere, more Eschers had turned up and had opened fire. Ivan was down, bleeding, and Akilles was swapping long-range heavy stubber shots with Zobo Bonono. Dwice was running scared, despite Ijax's efforts to berate him back into the fight.
Back in the five-metre stretch, Darik got a telling blow in at last, connecting with D-Face's jaw and taking her out of the fight. He stepped back, grinning, but then a lasbolt glanced off his backplate and sent him sprawling to the floor.
The Savage Kittens were all here, fully reinforced. A well-aimed plasma shot from boss woman Mas the Plaz took Ijax down, bleeding badly. The Eschers were moving to encircle the Orlocks, who were now thoroughly outnumbered.
Akilles was bellowing for the Jackers to back off, quick like. Darik didn't need to be told. He grabbed his fallen boss by the boots and started dragging him away. A dozen heartbeats later, Whitcap Hole was Orlock-free and still in Escher hands.
So much for a simple plan.