Mid Rim // Hutt Space // Nar Shaddaa.
New Vertica // City Streets -> Club Vertica Casino // Thyrsian Reavers.
The blade didn’t come clean. Despite the powered armour Khonsu wore, and the creature finally drawing its last breath, the beast’s wretched carcass still clung onto his sword like a jealous lover. It took the combined might of his arms, and a firmly placed boot to wrench the weapon free. When the plasmatic edge tore free, a fountain of ichorous fluid sprayed outwards; partially coating the Warlord’s gilded frame.
As his visor was retracted, revealing the face beneath, the gushing shower of the beast’s essence painted the Mercenary’s weathered flesh. The man recoiled in disgust. It tasted foul; like rotten fruit left out too long beneath the Sun’s unflinching gaze. He spat, trying to rid himself of the unmistakable scent of decay. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t enough to get rid of the taste.
It was something he’d have to endure for the time being.
Pushing aside the cloying stench, the Thyrsian pulsed a command through his armour’s neural ports - forcing the actuators of his helmet into action. The gilded plates snapped closed, and sealed soon after; bathing the Warlord’s darkened eyes in the false-firelight of his heads up display.
He had hoped that the swathe of data scrolling before his eyes, as well as the armour’s atmospheric scrubbers, would be enough to take the scent of Xenos filth away - but alas - it was not. That brought a string of Thyrsian curses to the man’s lip.
The man needed something more. Something that would wash away the foul taste. Yet, all around him were a collection of ravaged buildings, and scattered debris. Nothing within reach that would cleanse the palette of the alien’s blood. He’d have to wade through the rubble-strewn streets further to find his newfound prize.
Without provocation, the shard of his starship’s artificial intelligence flickered to life; materializing in the top-right most corner of his visor’s display.
:: Club Vertica Casino is located directly above your current position. There is a surface-based force cylinder in a nearby building, which doubles as a proprietary expansion; no doubt that there are refreshment facilities within.::
“You don’t say.”
:: I am still learning your parlance, < Designate: Khonsu,> was that sarcasm? ::
“Yes,” he said drily. “Yes, it was.”
As the image of Vindicta blinked out and was replaced by a newly materialized waypoint marker, the Sun Guard quickly thumbed the activation plate of his sword. The re-ignited plasma field flash-fried the creatures’ blood caking its metallic flesh, turning the dripping ichor into flakes of colourless ash.
Once cleansed, Khonsu deftly slid the blade back into its scabbard and took off towards that sector. There were already friendly forces reportedly located in that sector. Sun Guards who took to the streets slaughtering those that wished to deny them their prizes, and capturing those too weak to resist. It wouldn’t be hard to link up with that Warband and have them join him as they made their way inside the Casino.
While it was, in many ways, considered overkill to have more than a Lance of Sun Guard in a single building; it would expedite the process of garnering refreshments. As well as whatever loot that building had within.
He need merely think about establishing an encrypted connection with his comrades, and they’d fall into line. However, the man became distracted. A bright spear of energy materialized upon the horizon; lancing down towards the planet some distance away.
It was a magnificent sight to behold.
Though it was some distance away, Khonsu could feel the slight tremor ripple through the city streets. Usually, such an occurrence would only come from a kinetic bombardment, but the targeted structure - whatever it was - was massive. When that distant building collapsed, it tore into several of the surrounding Starscrapers; causing several levels to cascade down into the depths of Nar Shaddaa.
Thus, such callous violence and fury would doubtlessly be felt - in some fashion or another - by all who inhabited this sector of the Smuggler’s Moon.
:: Distance to Waypoint Marker, Three Metres. Additional Sun Guards en-route. Advise caution when entering the Casino.::
Unwanted as they were, Khonsu silently thanked the artificial voice in his head for drawing him back to the mission at hand. He also cursed her for returning his senses to the forefront of his mind; filling his nostrils with the cloying scent of corruption.
“Damn your caution, Vindicta,” Khonsu growled. “Activate my shields, and keep the corona skintight. That should ensure your safety from whatever lays within.”
In the time it had taken him to blink, his suit’s defensive bulwark flickered to life and encapsulated him within its plasmatic embrace. Satisified, the shard of Vindicta that resided within his skull voiced her approval, before falling silent once more.
As the doors to the Casino’s ground floor came within reach, the Sun Guard withdrew one of his sidearms from the magnetic plating that kept the weapon to his thigh. After checking the magazine and racking the slide, the Warlord tore one of the glasteel doors off their hinges and made his entrance.
Without hesitation, several of the Casino’s security guards raised their blaster pistols and opened fire. They wouldn’t bother demanding that the man surrenders into their custody; for they already knew what the answer would be. Thus, they sought to take him down through strength of arms, and superior firepower.
Well, at least what they believed to be superior.
Turns out, those advantages turned to ash mere moments later. As the projected deflector screen that surrounded the Sun Guard drank in the discharged violence and spat it back from whence it came; incapacitating or killing the guards outright. It was a small mercy, to be slain by their own weapons, rather than forcibly subjected to the acidic bite of the slugs his Dissuader chambered.
An audible click resounded in the silence that followed, coupled with a near-flawless representation of the Thyrsian Warlord’s voice.
“Those of you who wish to leave this Casino alive will have to pay the toll. Any and all valuables will be accepted, and you shall find yourself under the benevolent protection of the Sun Guard as you make your way off-planet.”
If only they could see the serpentine grin painting his filth-stained lips.
“However, if any of you seek to leave before you pay your dues? You’ll share the fate of your would-be protectors.”
“Oh,” the Mercenary said as casually as one could whilst threatening an entire Casino with a drawn pistol, and powered armour wrought from shimmering, blood-stained gold. “The first one to bring me a drink and a wet rag shall find themselves exempt from this tithe, and shall have my gratitude.”