Dominion Beyond Thunderdome (OPA Dominion of Dasoor)

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

As Wren climbs into the ring, he sees the downed figures of Sam Rodarch and The Fool and steps over them to intercept another thug with a large knife, taking a slice to his right arm in order to deliver a crushing blow to the windpipe. As the arm wielding the knife spasmed in shock, Wren took advantage and grabbed it, driving it into the man's throat with a feral shout before turning to face yet more assailants. He spares a passing glance to the two obviously concussed fighters and gives them a feral grin. "Names Wren Drake. If either of you have a way off this rock, I'll get you out of here in exchange for a ride. If not, I suggest you run off before things get uglier, but your gonna miss all the fun."

 

[Rook Heimdal]

Scenerio 3: The Guns of Emerald Vale

- - -​

Rook had given Christine a friendly nod and a partial wave as Eldin introduced them. Since she seemed to be on good terms with Eldin Rook assumed affiliation with OPA. The loudmouth and his pair of idiots basically confirmed it. Rook didn't come riding in on a functional bike let alone an OPA standard issue, which only left the lady and Eldin. She polished off the first glass of milk before grabbing the other.

So what was this about exactly? The heck if she knew. She was never a fan of gangs, but if you boil it down every group of people were some sort of gang or another. And thing was, Rook was tired of running solo. If Eldin and his group had a problem with these goons then she did too.

"Seems we found the gang girls."

And that was all she needed. She gave a slow, ponderous nod, "One thing I gotta ask the skinny fella there," She gestured to the lackey on the right, "Did your momma not raise you right? Look how scrawny! Ya know what might fix that?" She hurled the glass of milk.

As the glass (and its blue content) crashed into his face Rook rose from her seat, simultaneously drawing the heavy blaster at her hip to fire at another gang member.

Only so many things can go right in succession. The blaster churned a shot then choked, expelling a puff of smoke from the barrel.

"Feth me."

So instead she holstered the lemon then chose to descend on the closest goon. Much to his chagrin, that honor fell upon the dairy-drenched shoulders of the skinny man.

Incensed, he whipped out two vibroknives and made a charge toward Rook. She stood her ground, more than ready to tango. As they met she lurched forward, seizing both of his forearms in either hand. It was then she realized what she gripped wasn't flesh at all.

The bean pole turned out to be a cyborg.

Eldin Daine | Christine Dellard​

 

[Sam Rodarch]

SCENARIO 1: SHOCKBOXING

There were many things that Sam Rodarch needed at that moment: a good dentist, a neurologist and maybe even a fatherly hug. What she didn't need, was the twat that had knocked her teeth down her throat yanking the tether and pushing for urgency. Was the fight over? Did she win? Why is there blaster fire? Why are there explosions? No matter.

A hand reached out to his chest to grab a handful of his clothing, her ire still focused upon him at that moment and not the severity of the scene around them.

“MA TEEF!”

Perhaps mercifully for her opponent, the chaos was beginning to filter into their arena. Thugs descending into their space for reasons that were far beyond Rodarch's comprehension. All that she did know, however, was that the matter of the missing teeth would have to be solved another day. The throat stabbing took precedence over shockboxing.

“FINE! Fine...ya'll can...ugh...do what ya want...”

Rodarch (rather unsteadily) returned to her feet, her first port of call was removing the belt that kept both the fighters attached. How strange, was there not a clasp? Or was the Mandalorian just so fat fingered in her punch-drunk haze that she was incapable of finding it?

No such luck. Kinda made sense that you couldn't take the tethers off given all the unwilling participants.

“Motherkarkin'... Shet!” Sam cursed, looking to Roman with an alarmed (but still perfectly furious expression) before turning attentions to the stab-happy Wren Drake, “I ain't got no ride, but seems like I'm goin' wherever this fella's goin'.”

A very pointed finger was jabbed towards her tether buddy.

“Lead tha' way, yer majesty.”

The Fool Wren 'The Cannon' Drake

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective 2: Finders keepers
Allies: OPA Cei Kyros Maokai Bantam
Enemies: CNO

"It appears the enemy crew started to make for the escape pods"

"Capture as many as we can get!"

As usual with the CNO, senior officers were prioritized for the escape pods: there usually weren't enough of them to evacuate everyone, even when there were decompressions happening in several areas on the heavy cruiser's hull with the crews being vented out in orbit. In the meantime, a mobility kill meant that asteroid impacts would make the ship so pockmarked with holes that capturing it would pose its own challenges, especially with the need to get the boarding parties inside, and making sure vacuum-rated armor is in use for those: docking ports aren't working anymore because they were hit by asteroid impacts. So capturing a derelict ship would deprive them from part of their spare parts supply chain in this region, and allow the OPA to get a hold on a source of spare parts as it gets towed to Skor should the capture be successful. Meanwhile, Therapy Command lost contact with the other OPA units in the system, so maybe they need medvac and they don't know it.

 

[Christine Dellard]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE
​

''Ah, that's cool. Eldin's friends are my friends.'' she said and greeted Rook with a casual nod, before she directed her attention back to Eldin for a moment. Suddenly, a rather odd thought and image appeared on her mind. What if...? Nah! It was a funny thought, though! Besides, it was always fun to pull a leg every now and then. Keeping a lighthearted spirit up within the ranks of the Judges.

''Date?'' she continued on voiceless lips, as she looked curiously with a lour at Eldin.

She did not get the pleasure of seeing his reaction before the cantina door slammed open and the ruckus caught their and the other patrons attention. The cantina went quiet, and on edge as the guy apparently called Manni took the tone towards them three. As Eldin engaged in a short but sharp riposte, Chris side-eyed Rook and then back at the goons trying to figure out what their point realy was. Did these goons seriously think that they would have it this way? If they had encountered OPA judges before, they would know better.

"Seems we found the gang girls."

On that note, Rook took over and swiftly tossed the glass of blue milk at one and tried a shot at the other. Everything happened with speed and would probably have caught the thugs off-guard. As Rook's blaster chocked, Chris was quick to reach for the shotgun on her back and brandish it from her hip at the goon who thought he was lucky tonight.

''Uh uh!'' she uttered and shaked her head, suggesting that any move from the guy would be a bad one. ''Mine won't jam!'' she said and took a few steps closer to the goon, smiling broad and scournfully.

Eldin Daine Rook Heimdal

 

[Eldin Daine]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE​

All hell broke loose.

Rook favour attack with blue milk, unorthodox maybe but it worked as element of surprise. It sure surprised Eldin. If he did not have to get off his backside, he would have belly laughed. Christine sprang to help Rook, seemed the bean pole was more than what he seemed which caused Eldin to be fore wary about his target. However, the first one bled. Drawing his pistols in unison, fired off one bolt toward the guy leaning on the stair bannister who fell in a heap dead, shot through the heart.

Only one left standing was the boss.

With all this back up either dead or engaged, he set sights on Eldin who had moved to the centre of the room with deliberate pace into a stand off position. Any patrons that had remained to watch the showdown, had taken cover behind any thing they could find, and in their hearts, they hoped that the stranger would come out the victors. They wanted to see the end of the control of the gang over their lives in this back-water town.

“Mighty handy with the gun stranger”, the man snarled just as his fingers twitched over the handle of his guns. Eldin was not in a chatting mood, and drew his pistols and fired. One shot hitting the man’s shoulder above the heart, only pushed him back and there was not sign of pain or injury. The other hitting him in the chest, again the same effect.

Shit.

The boss started to walk toward him, his own deliberate pace as he grinned tasting the coming death of the man before him. Eldin’s finger flicked the button is his pistols to gunslinger mode and waited. The boss looked cocky and confident, raised his guns fingers pressing the trigger. Suddenly, Eldin hands raised and with the force, pushed the boss with power, sending his flying out the main door into the street.

Eldin followed, and entered the street.

Rook Heimdal | Christine Dellard

 

[The Fool]

A knife wielding goon showed up from behind the two tether buddies, his dagger coated in sanguine; evidently someone else’s blood. He offered them support in return for a ride, and thankfully so - otherwise, Roman thought, Rodarch was about to punch Hayato and snatch his own teeth to replace her missing ones. The feral woman really did have an issue with prioritizing. Fortunately, she surrendered to the rational option given their situation.

“Good idea.” he muttered to his tether buddy before nodding to Wren. He didn’t admit he had no guaranteed ride out of this hell hole but he sure did have a plan to get out of this arena stomping on corpses.

The purple veil covering his eyes from the high voltage shock Rodarch gifted him did not conceal the blaster pistols on the ground; their old owners would not need them seeing they were dead. He picked a piece, and assuming the other two did the same Roman carried on towards the exit straight through the firefight taking no hostages. The trigger’s spring groaned under the abuse of Roman’s bloodthirsty finger.

If they looked behind, the trio of doom would only see the piles of corpses they left behind in their wake.

Sam Rodarch Wren 'The Cannon' Drake

 

[Wren 'The Cannon' Drake]

Wren's grin widens, combining with the blood on his face and clothes to give him a ghoulish appearance.

"You see what you can get done when you just calmly reason with people?"

He leaps into action, dispatching foe after foe with a destructive and chaotic blend of technically perfect boxing, ruthless street fighting, and improvised weapons he picks up seemingly at random off the ground, using and dropping them on impulse as he cleaves a bloody path. When they reach the end of their path and arrive at the ship yard, he glances at The Fool and Sam Rodarch .

"Alright lovebirds, which ship is yours?"

 

[Rook Heimdal]

Scenario 3: The Guns of Emerald Vale

- - - ​

Rook bore all her 225lbs onto the man and all she got was a lousy whir from his servos. He pressed on with his charge, contesting her strength pound for pound. Since he was so dogged determined she let him pass; she jerked herself out of the way, letting go of his arms in the process. His body lunged forward, surprise escaping his mouth in a startled squawk.

As she reared back to throw a punch a shine of chrome caught her eye. The knife landed with a wet thunk between the hardpoints on her shoulder. She stepped back and the cyborg rolled up to his feet, pulling another knife from his coat as he rose to stand. The short blade came to life with the tell-tale hum of a vibro. Her grip left the handle of her new invasive accessory as the cyborg shed his coat, revealing a dense skeleton of mishmash cybernetics.

"...fethin' wreck you are," was all she could comment before he yelled and charged her.

"I'll carve that smart alec tongue right outta ya mouth you smug schutta!" He dashed with unnatural speed and caught Rook in the left forearm, the blade biting a large gash. No sooner had blood splattered the table beside them Rook's fist was buried deep into the cyborg's left cheek, the iron squirt forgetting to guard his head when that close to an opponent. The punch sent him reeling to the side and Rook caught his rebound, seizing his arm and swinging him through a chair.

He began to push the table aside but instead grabbed it, lifting it up to heave at Rook. Her eyes went wide as the wooden circle came barreling towards her. She leapt over the bar, landing beside the crouching barkeep.

"Your clientele always so lousy?" She asked before a metal hand found the back of her poncho, lifting her large and hefty frame plumb out of hiding.

The jug of hard cider she found on her way up fit nicely over the cyborg's head however. She fell over the bar and into the cidery pool, seeing the also cybernetic but skinny legs just ahead. She wheeled around on her butt and drew her legs close to her chest. POW! Heavy boots slammed into the chrome-plated toothpicks. The cyborg fell hard, what was left of the cider jug shattering off his head and across the floor.

Milk. Cider. Throw some flour in there and you might have the crude beginnings of a pie amongst the scuffle.

The trauma to the head finally put the rawboned hercules on pause. Rook tore the knife out of her shoulder, descending on the chrome body with murder in her eye. She seized his neck and, before he could catch her hand, plunged the knife into the right socket of his arm. She brought the knife back up and his left hand barely caught her wrist as it sunk from the downward arc.

The eyes, the baring fangs, the laceration on her arm visibly mending itself-- it frightened him to his durasteel core.

"P-Plea--Stop! STOP!"

Freakish strength brought the blade closer. A fraction of an inch with every agonizing second, and soon it neared the side of his nose, its tip cutting into the soft cartilage.

"PLEASE LADY!"

Eldin Daine | Christine Dellard ​

 

[Eldin Daine]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE​

He push open the cantina doors and walked into the street. The boss man was on his feet again, holding his ribs from the force push and out of breath. The streets had come to life, people had come out of their shops and homes to see what was going on, and held hope in their hearts that this, might finally be, the end of the rein of terror over their town.

They did not care who the strangers were, or what had brought them here, but however they were might be their only hope. There was apprehension in some of them, not knowing if this was going to be the change in the dynamics to something worse than before. Better the devil you know and all that.

The OPA symbol on Eldin’s bike meant nothing to them, it was just another symbol of yet another regime that would lord over them? Only time would tell.

Without back up, the boss man looked around for anyone that might come to his aid but only found distrust and hate in the eyes of the people, and he now stood alone and not so terrifying to them. Eldin aimed his pistol at the man, he did not even have the will to draw his own gun as he knew he was beaten.

“By the authority of the Judges of the Outer Planets Alliance, ya are under arrest”. Eldin was looking for an excuse to pull the trigger, one twitch from the boss man toward his gun and he would open fire. But he just stood there defeated. Eldin lowered his aim and was about to move to cuff the guy when the crowd in the street shifted, their mood changing as if a weight of fear was lifted off them only to be replaced with anger.

An angry mob now rallied and swarmed the boss man, knocking him to the ground, punching and kicking him. Eldin knew there would be no stopping them he was outnumbered, and even if he tried, they would turn on him as well as the girls. The crowd dragged the man toward an alley way and vanished from sight no doubt to bring their own form of justice.

It was time to get the girls and get back to the ship and report in. And get out of town.


Rook Heimdal | Christine Dellard

 

[Christine Dellard]

SCENARIO 3: WE'LL BUILD OUR OWN OBJECTIVE: THE GUNS OF EMERALD VALE
​

“Mighty handy with the gun stranger”

The thug boss' words was the only thing that broke the silence that inhabited the cantina and its terrified patrons and staff. The whole situation was on a very thin line. A line about to snap. And it did.

Ptcheew!

The noise of a familiar blaster being fired answered the man. Shortly after, another shot was fired. Without the need of looking back, Chris felt that something was wrong. Something did not go they way they hoped. The next second, the boss came flying backwards and crashed through the enterance door. The very unexpected occurance pulled her out of focus, and made her glance back instinctively to see what was going on.

Beginners mistake, or whatever you would call it, the goon in front of her siezed the opportunity in about the same time as Rook were charged by the other one. Suddenly, the man jumped on her and tried to grab the shotgun. In the process of doing so and with all his strenght, pushing her back so they both fell into a nearby set of table and chairs, causing at least one or two chairs to turn into fire wood.

POW!

A blast from the shotgun went off and past half the mans right forearm. To Chris' surprise, it was not blood that were splashed over the floor, but the amber color of hyrdaulic fluid. A damned cyborg! Being stuck under this freak of a man was not a favourable position to be in. Next shot could be addressed to herself. Desperately searching for ideas, she knew she would need to risk letting go of the shotgun with atleast one hand, she pulled her leg up and grabbed the vibro-blade out of its sheath. Wasting no time and with a roar, she trusted it from the side and into the cyborgs neck.

The vibro-blades characteristic hum were slowed down a few tunes as it struggled against the metal and through cables and hoses, hydraulic fluid squirting all over the place, including herself. The cyborg started to loose strenght and Chris found a gap to break out from under him. She quickly stumbled to her feet with the shotgun and increased the distance to the cyborg that were now malfunctioning and tried to get up himself. She didn't need to pull the trigger. The cyborgs life slowly dissipated and he fell back into the puddle of fluid. Chris were left panting slightly and gathered herself once she had taken a look around making sure none of the goons were left standing.

"PLEASE LADY!"

On the other side of the room, Rook was busy with the one who charged at her before. She seemed to have things under control, the cyborg man clearly regretting his decision to challenge her in the first place.

Eldin Daine Rook Heimdal