Bloody Crates

[Nicair Claden]

The weapons were unusual things. None of the men had seen their likes before. Brutal, savage, and strangely elegant they killed with ease. Almost as if the cold metal and strange material craved the taste of blood. The things may have given his men the creeps, but it wouldn't stop him from distributing them out. For, in all their bloodlust, the weapons were incredibly useful for a variety of tasks. Some of them were generic killing tools, others could clear out a room in the manner of a few seconds, still others could punch through the hulls of cargo ships.

For a pirate the things were a goldmine, even if they left a trail of blood leading right to them. Captain Euril didn't much care where he got them from, or the haste that the sellers made off. Tor'e was a decent captain of his own vessel, never reneged on a deal. Where he had found the weapons Euril didn't question. Once they had been demonstrated he was hooked and scooped the lot of them up.

He sat at his desk in their hideaway, stroking the side of a vicious knife that could very easily disembowel someone foolish enough to cross him. He would make a note of meeting whoever made these devices in the future.

***​

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Nicair couldn't help himself but look back at his handler. They'd exchanged names and hadn't spoken to each other since the original greeting. He didn't much mind the quiet, it was just that the other man could move completely silently, no footfalls, no sound of clothing being ruffled. Nicair's glances back weren't an attempt to be friendly, they were an extension of hypervigilance.

The two had first met on a station orbiting the planet Antisoch. They had tried to kill each other on sight. Nicair and a Jedi had been forced to dock on the station under penalty of death and been swiftly taken captive. This didn't last long as they were able to escape from their cells relatively quickly. They had been making good progress until the pair had turned a corner to see this man, this agent, [member="Jack-ei"] standing in the center of the hallway.

Nicair had allowed the female Jedi to attempt to find some information on how to better aid their escape while he squared off with the man, a Sociph they were called. It had been long since the Mandalorian had met a worthy challenger in hand to hand combat, but Jack-ei had provided such a challenge and forced him into a relative stalemate.

The man who had originally taken the pair prisoner, Regor was his name, gave them a choice. Do a simple tasks that he would demand, or die trying to escape. The station was not a busy one, and practically the entirety of it could be rallied against them. The female agreed to her task, one of simply refusing the let the Republic know of Antisoch's location, and Nicair agreed to his. He had agreed to track down and kill whoever had the weapons of the pirate Tor'e, a man who had reneged on his deal to Regor. A man who's death by Nicair's hand, was practically the only reason the Mandalorian was still alive.

There was but one exception, Jack-ei was to accompany him to see to it that the weapons were returned to Antisoch in full, and that there were no witnesses to their existence.

Every once in awhile in Nicair's glances, he could see the Sociph looking at him with a curious expression. The two looked fairly similar, with Nicair the larger and slightly shorter of the two. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something familiar about the Sociph, but it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on.

Their search for the weapons had been aided heavily by the inclusion of a tracking device placed in one of the weapon crates. The path to get to said crates was not an easy one and required many twists, turns, backtracking, and doubling pack. Eventually, however, they came upon the hideaway the device was telling them contained the missing crates. It was on the side of a mountain and the readings coming from the ship told Nicair that the place was equipped with a fairly strong scanner considering the occupation of those within. While the ship allowed the pair for their mission had a stronger cloaking device than Nicair had ever seen, he wasn't one to take any undue risks.

Setting the ship to hover he rose from the seat and into the rear to speak to his handler.

"This is where we get out, I'm not going to get any closer and risk them blasting us out of the sky. I don't know the calibration on this ship well enough to guess how close we can reach before being noticed. Let's get this over with." The man looked at him with that same curious expression, like a predator watching a cub practice hunting.

"Lead the way." His voice was smooth and elegant, yet sharp enough to draw blood. He raised one of his hands in a gesture of 'after you' and followed suit as the Mandalorian jumped the short distance to the ground, heading towards the mountain.

[member="Asajj Novar"]

 

[Jack-ei]

He rather enjoyed his predicament. The more time he spent with this Mandalorian the more he confirmed the feelings he was having. This Nicair fellow was his sibling, separated at birth. The Sociph have a strange ability to smell kin. It isn't an adaptability to better suit a family unit; at least, not completely. Their sense of smell was to detect who to attack, back when they existed as predatory apes and into their tribal days. Sociph have no word for friend or truly even ally, their word is more akin to something along the lines of "less likely to kill you" but without all the filler. As a result he and his ilk are able to detect similar pheromones and relations.

Granted, something like this isn't as useful in the modern day due to the fact that "family" is just as likely if not more likely to kill you. Regor could smell it, and so could Jack-ei. The slaved son returns. Jack-ei wasn't expecting any real trouble with their task. Both of them are adept killers and if Nicair would simply let go of his paper thin morality and good judgement he could truly be a force to be reckoned with.

But no, these Mandalorians got into him too deeply. No matter, someday he'll break from them, for good this time. But for now, Jack-ei would test his newly found brother, push the limits of his skill and integrity. The Sociph have no love of family, most of the time they don't even use a surname. Jack-ei, however, wants a partner. His behavior, while admirable amongst his people for his hyper controlled savagery, is slipping. The neurological disease that eats away at brain tissue in the frontal lobe and amygdala is creeping faster in Jack-ei than in most others. Nicair knows the galaxy better than he, has connections that could be proved useful to the Sociph.

Jack-ei didn't know what he would dislike more; being assassinated as a liability, or slowly losing his mind until he's nothing more than a breathing husk. Neither option was very pleasant.

[member="Asajj Novar"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

The pair moved up towards the mountain unmolested by cannons or any other sort of malicious action. The facility was far enough out of the way and hidden well enough that they must believe that radar is all they would require. Didn't seem they felt the need to look out the window. The way the hideout was set up was that the very bottom of it was built into the side of the mountain, thus unreachable without causing a large amount of noise. The top, however, was exposed due to the slope of the mountain. All the two had to do was get there and Jack-ei could, supposedly, get them in.

Nicair was no stranger to climbing, in fact he found the activity to be quite soothing. A sort of visual and physical representation of overcoming obstacles. It was Jack-ei who was the true master. He scaled the mountain face as if he were a part of it. It seemed that every finger had enough strength to hold the man's body in place with each hold. In some cases he was even upside down, his bag draping down across his shoulders. Nicair was impressed with his physicality but didn't want to attempt the feat on his own and risk the pain of tumbling down the mountain. He had his jetpack, but he didn't want to risk activating it.

The pair were able to reach the top of the facility in relatively short time, neither showing much strain or exertion. Once they had found what they believed to be a structural weakness in the building, Jack-ei pulled some sort of machine from his bag. On one end it had a T-grip and buttons in the crook of either arm. Further down the device there contained a strangely colored fluid that was more akin to think syrup in its motion. At the very end there were hooks pulled back and armed, no doubt when activated, they would be released and latch on. The slight glint on their tips told that they seemed to be coated in the liquid. In the center of the device there was a small opening, around the size of a Nicair's fist.

With a measured speed borne of constant practice, Jack-ei swept the machine into position and hit the buttons soon enough that the claws retracted and hooked onto the metal, the acid covering them eating its way in. His timing allowed there to be a few centimeters from device to building. Then the liquid began to become far more fluid and seemed to increase in temperature before it began to spray from the center. The first few spurts hissed as they struck the surface and Nicair could see that a solid dent was being formed. He hadn't seen acid like this before.

"We use it to get through walls. No matter how loud it is up here they won't notice until we pop through the ceiling." He almost wished his handler hadn't spoken, his voice put the Mandalorian on edge.

The rate of fluid dispensing began to increase and before long there was a small hole with enough diameter for the smaller man to fit through, and it was still increasing. By this point the hooks had come loose and Jack-ei was gracefully stepping around the hole so as to increase the spread. Even in parts he hadn't been near for a few seconds the acid still hissed and ate away ever so slightly. There was an art form to it, give just enough so that way there isn't an actual hole straight through, but enough that someone with enough force can break through in an ambush.

The two looked at each other in understanding once Jack-ei was done. He stepped back and with the same 'after you' motion as before allowed Nicair the privilege of jumping up and through the weakened metal, feet first.

[member="Asajj Novar"]

 

[Jack-ei]

Watching the Mandalorian work was a sight to behold. No small amount of what he assumed to be pride filled Jack-ei's breast. His brother had certainly grown into his own as a warrior, nay as a true blooded killer. Every movement was precise and calculated, no strike was overstepped. The eldest of the two grinned widely at any moment he watched the younger cover both himself and Jack-ei. He could certainly join in at any moment if he so wished, could defend himself and kill with equal if not superior efficiency. But he didn't much want to. This was a test, and Nicair was passing.

To say he skipped through the blood and broken bodies in their path was a slight exaggeration, but not by much. Most of his little hops were to deftly get out of the way of a loose blaster shot or keep himself from getting bowled over by a body Nicair had to throw behind him to avoid being swarmed by dead weight. Every once in awhile the body was still breathing, all Nicair had done was unbalance the pirate enough to send him reeling straight towards the older Sociph. The dagger that entered the pirate's heart soon fixed the issue. It wasn't because Nicair was slowing down, his breathing was growing slightly heavy, but that's to be expected with any sort of exertion. Just because the breathing picks up doesn't necessarily mean the body is working intensely, it's just the natural reaction to adrenaline and combat. Muscles need oxygen to kill.

No, Nicair was feeding his brother (a fact he was perhaps loathe to admit to himself). Most of Nicair's disposition were disorganized or frantic, had trouble sitting still. The Sociph noticed that there usually were certain differences between themselves based on how disciplined they were or their level of personal organization, but they didn't much care enough to label it. The wider galaxy, however, did. Nicair would be considered a sociopath, while capable of forming certain attachments, it was challenging for him and his expressions were usually quite limited. Whether Nicair was born in such a state or if he had developed it later was open for debate to his elder brother. He told himself Nicair was Sociph born and bred, but certain behaviors told him differently. He didn't act like a sociopath, he was far too self disciplined. Not only had Nicair joined a galactic warrior culture prizing honor, something the Sociph had no real word for, he also devoted himself to mastering any martial art he came across. The Sociph knew obsession, but only for a short time, and never for something like that.

Jack-ei enjoyed killing and wanted to be the best at it on a planet full of killers, but obsessed with mastery? No, obsessed with killing? More a likely option. Jack-ei knew himself to be a psychopath, an unstable one at that. He had but one connection that meant anything to him, and that person was killing people at the moment, a good deal of them. Nicair was more of an anomaly that Jack-ei wanted to solve, an oddity. Whether the young Sociph would be fit for what Regor had in mind was questionable. Could he be made to fit? Certainly worth a try. The need to make hard decisions would be a large part of the position, decisions that could very easily leave a large number dead no matter which option was taken.

The Sociph had plans for their prodigal son.

 

[Nicair Claden]

The Sociph, Jack-ei seemed far too entertained by Nicair's slaughter than he almost felt comfortable with. He'd known creatures such as that one on every planet and in every culture. But none quite so thrilled with their actions, or in this case, the lack-thereof. He threw back the occasional straggler more to momentarily get those black pits off his back than as a kindness against boredom. As with any sort of combat alone, the occasional shot landed on his armor only to be proven useless when coming into contact with the beskar. Still, these weapons were different, they hit harder than other blasters. It almost felt like Mandalorian technology but the increased temperature on the plates indicated otherwise.

Once or twice the bolts actually left scuff marks on his plate. His own pistol was proving increasingly effective, gaping holes being left in armor and bodies alike. There weren't all that many in the compound, the ones there were lacked in training and precision. How they got their hands on this kind of technology and what they could ultimately do with it were something Nicair was both curious and disinterested in thinking about. Usually he wouldn't distract his mind in times of combat by letting it wander, but the opposition wasn't enough that he had to pay particular attention. His muscles and reflexes knew what to do.

They knew that the leader of this ragtag group of deviants would be in the lower levels, by this point probably huddling to stay safe against what was coming. Nicair had developed a name for himself, escape wasn't likely for any involved if they made his list. Pirate and smuggler hunting wasn't usually something he bothered himself over, but his name and armor carried weight all the same.