Border control - [Hutt Cartel dominion over Cyborrea]

[Ka-Aver]

Location the space station
Objective: getting a drink.
...................................................

Ka-Aver had rushed out from the pod trashing a droid or two that barely gave him any resistance. The boarding party had easily gained several rooms in the station as the resistance was hardening. blaster proof doors and hidden roof turrets were coming down giving everyone a really hard time.

But then, the voice of [member="Ashalah Ky"] had sounded in the hallways. with their leader dead a whole lot of these pirates either gave up or headed straight to escape pods or their ships.

Ka-Aver knew what had to be done. He knew what fears had to be quelled from this terrible operation.

He headed straight to the station cantina.
inside, bar fights, loud music and the staggering [member="Thraxis"] was al he needed. He leaned forth grabbing the terribly afraid bartender by his collar dragging him in to Ka-Avers mouth.

"Youz better give uz a good round for freez buddy - the cartel runz this plaze now you hear!" he laughed and nodded toward the tap. He turned and leaned on the bar taking the scene in. even though there were stil some distant fighting going on he figured the droids coudl do the final clean up. Beside, who knew where they were going to be invading next time. Better drink up while there was time.

As he was about to grab he freshly poured drink he spotted the wounded heroes of the day.

" [member="Ashalah Ky"] !" he shouted "getz in here and let uz toazt your deed youz deadly woman.. " he winked. To lure her in he waved a koltoinjector in his left hand as he nodded to the bartender to pour yet more drinks.

 

[Atton Korvas]

Location: Several kilometers from the resistant broadcaster's penthouse.
Objective: Eliminate the media mogul encouraging the people to resist.
Post: 2/20
Allies: [member="Sempra the Hutt"] and anyone else working for the Cartel.

Ah. Another one of those people who fight with their words, using their slogans to brainwash the half-witted, ignorant population into believing that they can resist the Hutt Cartel's expansion. Well, to be honest, the Courier would be among the resistants if he still was a farmer in his homeworld when a major faction—be it the Cartel, Mandos or any other bunch of power-hungry expansionists—came knocking, trying to take the planet by force or by fooling the locals into thinking they'd be better off with a faction. These Cyborreans had every reason to oppose Hutt dominion, and the Courier would probably side with them if caught in a crossfire, but the Cartel turned out to be offering more than the planet's locals.

If he was lucky, the broadcaster would be standing just behind some weak transparisteel, but knowing his luck, the Courier knew the windows were probably blast-proof and that he'd have to fight his way through hordes of security guards. Just my luck.

He mounted on his speeder, a cheap, local one that he'd borrowed from a parking lot, and started its engines before making his way to the network HQ.

***​

​

The Courier sighed. The building was surrounded by a three-meter tall durasteel walls to keep intruders out and there were at least four armed men at the entrance. The guy was rightfully paranoid. He left the speeder in some random alley and was on a nearby building's roof a couple of minutes later. Let's see what I'm up against this time. The Courier took off his helmet and looked through his macrobinoculars at the large building and the luxurious penthouse. He couldn't see the man himself, who was probably spreading another set of anti-Cartel messages to the public, but he sure as hell could see the horde of hired guns and security officers outside the building. He could count at least twelve men and four droids outside. Kark.

He had three options: wait on the roof with his sniper rifle until the man comes near the transparisteel windows and hope that they aren't blast-proof; go in guns blazin'—or use an alternative, stealthy route. Unfortunately, stealth wasn't the Courier's strong suit, and the option that suited him most was the loud one. But even he couldn't get through that many men without some sort of plan.

What if I take out the area's power generator at night and infiltrate the base in the dark?

It was a weak plan, and seemed doomed to fail, but plans weren't the Courier's strong suit either. He wasn't a brainless brute, but he was no strategic genius either. It was decided then; a few dozen minutes of searching, and he'd have the power generator's location. Then all he had to do was to buy some EMP charges and scatter them around the generator. He would've preferred simply blasting it to pieces, but he wasn't a fan of killing civilians while hunting.

***​

Three hours later​

​

The sky was dark enough now, and the streets far less crowded. Thankfully, whoever operated the generator didn't seem nearly as paranoid as his main target. Activating his helmet's low-light vision mode, the Courier used his grappling hook to climb up the wall surrounding the generator before doing the same to enter through an open window. For the first time, luck was on his side: there wasn't a single security guard or camera in view. However, it took only a few seconds for a guy to stumble across you and ruin your entire day, so he immediately started moving through the corridors like a shadow, checking the 'you are here' maps on the walls to make his way to the control room.

He was only a minute away from the control room when whoever was checking the sensors or cameras inside the building noticed a shady figure moving through the hallway sounded the alarm. The Courier then broke into a sprint, sending a couple of service droids to the floor as he neared the control room. A single guard was at the entrance, and it took him more than three seconds to see and react to the approaching Courier, who took him out by slamming his revolver's butt into the man's temple.

He stormed into the room, aiming two revolvers at the engineers and barking at them to get the kark out. They didn't need to be asked again; every single one of them herded out of the room as the Courier placed the first charge into a console. He had less than sixty seconds until security officers arrived. The second and third charges were set, and the Courier was planting the fourth and final one just as a couple of Cyborrean officers appeared at the doorway, pointing their guns at the man in front of them in a not-so-friendly way. One of them shouted something in his native language as the Courier raised his hands, his back turned to the officers. He was surrendering—or at least, that was what the officers were supposed to think. The Courier was turning around to face the officers when, in a fraction of a second, he pushed a button on the EMP charge he'd been holding and lobbed it at the officers, who sent two crimson laser bolts at him before they were rendered uncounscious by the EMP's discharge.

Shavit, shavit, shavit...

It was a matter of seconds before more officers showed up. The Courier sprinted out of the room as the EMP charges detonated, overloading the consoles and deactivating the power generator. One-by-one the lights in nearby buildings started dimming, and as the mercenary leapt out of the building's window, the city was almost pitch-black.

Now he had to make his move before his target's backup generators kicked in—if he had any, that is.

Well, at least now he could move without being bothered by the security cams, sensors or hired guns. The Courier took a deep breath as he mounted the speeder. This was going to be a long night.

OOC: Sorry for the late reply, I'm currently on vacation.