Club Black

[Tathra Khaeus]

Wild Space - Dredd: City District 02

​By midnight the planet's Districts Zero through Eight were dead - ghost towns. At least on the surface, a few black speeders with shaded windows sat in street corners, waiting and watching for anyone to disobey the nearby Gangs orders. Some places had curfews, others had their citizens out in line ready to pay and let the thugs take what or whoever they wished.

​It was a lawless place. Gang Wars were often, usually with civilians caught in the crossfire. It wasn't a pretty site at the end of the day - the law enforcement was controlled by the local gangs, the courts and system of government; or what was left of it, was also under their control. Nothing went by without a vicious thug noticing and knocking on your door.

​A black wide hovercraft prowled through the empty streets, carrying [member="Koda Fett"] and several small cases of excess equipment for use at his leisure. In the two front seats - were two musclemen. A roided Weaquay with half of hits teeth missing and a Trandoshan driver with scar art covering his body. The silver streets were empty at this time of night - bar some homeless. As they turned on a corner, a dim-light from a dumpster fire could be seen under the northern bridge as they drew close to the overpass that lead to the road underneath.

​As the muscle hovercraft grinds to a halt, the driver flicks a small switch - it has rust on the tip from the many times it has been used, and small indents of where ash from cigars have settled on it. The Weaqauy in the passenger seat looks back at you, his dead white eye staring through as he garbles out: ​

"Maorqua"

​He turns around, opening the passenger seat and thumping open the boot of the hovercraft and removing a small Trandoshan slug-thrower. As he passes the window the ridged tips of its sawed-off barrel are clear as he shoves it into the deep navy blue pocket of his coat and staggers down a small hill of garbage to where the dumpster fire is. At a distance, he is seen talking to a slim purple twi'lek. The trandoshan driver impatiently tapping against the steering wheel as he waits.

​The twi'lek makes a sudden move and in a second the upper half of her left side ribs and chest are blow apart as the thug blasts her with his slug-thrower through his coat. The women falls to the ground - her body spasms for a few moments before going limp as the Trandoshan driver exhales, the Weaquay takes the weapon out of his coat and pins it between his lower back and black trousers as he throws as he takes off his now ruined coat, and throws it over her body. He staggers back up, his Durasteel mesh combat vest revealed threw a feet undone buttons of his strange orange and black clothing. He climbs back into the passenger seat, with sawed off in hand and nods for the Trandoshan to continue.

​A few words are exchanged as they arrive at their destination. ​

Re'iishia Videght [Club Black]

​The two parked their vehicle and lead Koda - carrying his cases for him as they entered the backdoor of Club Black​, the backdoor lead to a small spiral staircase in the shadows of the massive main room. Entirely made of black crystal decorations and jet black marble - projections of the sensual making two feet in front of you and twenty feet ahead almost indistinguishable.

​The two escorts from the muscle hovercraft moved on up the staircase as a large broad Zabrak, missing one eye and half his nose stopped Koda and ran a small diagnostic check on his equipment with a holographic device - checking for primed equipment. ​"Helmet off." ​The Zabrak said in broken Basic as he allowed the Mercenary to pass.

​In the small upper level, their was a large glass viewscreen obscured by at the very least a few hundred small artificial monitors observing every inch of District Two. Between the bounty hunter and that was a small black long table, with a small empty swivel chair. A short and pot-gungan with two golden rings in one ear walked out, wheezing through a cough as he sucked on the end of a long-done cigar.

​"Come a little closer kid...- ​His voice was strained and weak as he sat down yet bold and reached the corners of the room, a small annunciator could be seem attached to his throat, small bloodshot eyes looking up at [member="Koda Fett"]. ​- Messa... got a proposition, for ya bouny hunnah." ​He said, half turned to face the prospect employee in his swivel chair as he raised one hand, flippantly waving it with his long and wet cigar in hand, slightly nodding in a sense of reassurance.
​-

​| [member="Koda Fett"] |​

 

[Koda Fett]

Galactic Superpowers come, and they go; their time is finite, and an inevitable demise is ever present-- resting on the horizon as a great many tend to turn their cheek and reside in an ignorant bliss. Law & Order, as it were, always died as the lawlessness havens of the galactic underworld seemed eternal in their reign. The Bounty Hunter-- a poor approximate of the two --wandered both sides, and some had certainly been of upstanding moral character, but Fett found preference in the darkest depths of the underworld. He absolutely considered it far more dangerous than any battlefield; there, you always knew who wanted to kill you, and why. But here? You could look at someone the wrong way and find yourself ventilated.

It'd been a realm of horrific and senseless murder, as that Weequay could confirm. Fett had peered his armoured frame towards the two as the insides become their opposite, staining the alley behind them. He hardly reacted, really. Fett had become all too accustomed with the concept of death that it had never been anything to dwell on. He committed his share of atrocities, too. Making a career in hunting down and killing those with prices on their heads. Barbaric, truly. But some had always been predisposed to violence, and Koda's DNA might be to blame.

The Mandalorian stared blankly towards the Zabrak that hardly spoke basic through his T-Visor, casting a knowing expression. It might have been difficult to interpret, but Fett had always found such helmets to be somewhat emotive. But, well, he had spent most of his life staring out from behind one, after all. The Bounty Hunter stepped forwards, shifting through the particular club with a wandering gaze before that Gungan ensnared his attention. Fett slightly scowled, initially, suspicious of the figure that he assumed was rather intoxicated. Koda looked towards the Gungan, helmet tipped, definitely listening.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Even from blocks away the smell and heat of the Club was almost nauseous to the senses - somehow equally intoxicating and putrid as it caused the senses to grow numb and dulled. It was sickening, the stench of blood and beverages reached out onto the streets, many keeled over and half asleep in pools of their own making.

​Fights and deals were common, which meant bodies were common. As was the stench of their rot.

​Two blocks from Club Black - at the edge of the street was a small collection of bronze military vehicles. A group of Bryn'adûl sitting idle, sixteen Drones commanded by a singular Section Commander.

​-

​The gungan stared blankly, waiting for Koda to say something. When he did not, the gungan crime boss smirked sinisterly, his rotting teeth clear as his cheeks raised into his eyes - leaning back as he laughed. His head moving to his company as they quickly joined into the laughter. ​"Normally you can't get Mando to shut it!" ​He quipped, his greasy lips squirming against one and other as he laughed again, immediately joined by his compatriots.

​The laughter lasted a moment as the gungans smile faded, his eyes still gleeful as he reached into a compartment of his desk, taking out a small transparent tray of red spice. ​"Well bouny hunnah, ussa knowsin the basics. There's a woman here in the club tonight. Belovia Treshka, Devaronian gang leader. Owns more than half of the districts. There's been fighting between us for a few months, destroyed half of District Six in the process. She's here for a treaty. I need you to kill her at our meeting."

​| [member="Koda Fett"] |​

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett had never spoken a lot. He preferred actions to be taken, rather than words spoken. He found them irritating and frivolous, especially from those that indulged themselves in too much chatter. Gungans, especially, spoke in a certain way he couldn't dare stand-- but, an employer, he could momentarily tolerate. If nothing else. And so Fett verbally replied, speaking in his typically dry and near irreverent tone. "Location?" Had been the first word, but not the most important. "Price?" Koda furthered.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The gungan's face shifted to that of amusement as he nodded his head, ​"Straight to the point." ​He shrugged his hands, palms facing outwards as they quickly reclined to his sides as his nodding head slowed to a stop, eyes blinking onto Koda. ​"I can appreciate that."

​The gungan crime boss pressed down on a small space on his desk, a holographic keypad flashes green as a small series of screens appeared detailing a route from the current room to a small back room that sat inside a one way black mirror circle on the far end of the Club's main dance floor. ​"It's a guarded backroom, there's a keypad hidden inside the marble lining on the left side of the door, you'll have to watch me open it and then follow in. There's a wide open scaffolding and upper ventilation walkway at the top of the Club. You won't be seen from up there, but there'll be two or three guards you might have to deal with. Then, use the code 5901 to gain entry and kill her during her meeting." ​The gungan pressed in another series of buttons and the cameras disappeared. ​"Oh and it's Five Hundred Thousand now, and the rest after."

​The Gungan crime boss gestured with his head and one of the thugs moved from the corner of the room, handing Koda a small data-drive. ​"I'll leave first, then you come out about thirty seconds after. Deal?"

​​-

​The Baeduring Commander stood - towering over his Sraelvun underlings, standing at eight feet and six inches in height, broad and ugly. Its rifle felt light as it pushed past one of its soldiers, opening a small communicator as a small yellow holographic form appeared, saying a few words in Draelvasier.

​"[Draelvasier]: We move."

​| [member="Koda Fett"] |​

 

[Koda Fett]

It's always the same; these things never change.

There might be those that claim the galaxy is big enough for everyone to reside peacefully, and those that claim it just isn't big enough 'for the both of us'. Fett might be more inclined to believe the latter is closer to resembling the truth. He had come to understand, and almost respect the way in which someone always wanted to see somebody else dead. They could, however, never commit these acts themselves-- and that left Fett in an ever constant flow of employment. He might've had the wealth to sustain a luxurious retirement, but there's no satisfaction in the monotonous leap from planet to planet, seeking the finer things. The existence of a Bounty Hunter could be considered monotonous and unfulfilling to some, but Koda always found some twisted satisfaction in witnessing the life drain from someone's eyes. A savage, truly.

And, for five-hundred thousand upfront, one might be able to understand. You could feel pity for those that lived for nothing more than the credits they earned, ultimately piling them with nothing to spend them on. Fett, despite his cruel disregard and otherwise vicious nature, was truly sympathetic to a certain degree. He'd been the product of a war and another man's greed, whilst another's lust for power. So be it if this Clone tore it all down. He could always blame someone else.

Now, he awaited atop metallic scaffolding in the darker corners that near entirely reduced visibility. Fett cycled through several vision modes that enabled the greatest amount of visibility, staring through a scope attached to his Carbine and lining up the most perfect, lethal shot he could. Their meeting hadn't gone on for long, no, but it were to end abruptly as his crosshair landed over the target's skull, gently squeezing his finger over the trigger with every intent to kill.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

When the Bounty Hunter entered the backroom - both of the gang bosses were sitting across from one and other on two separate jetblack leather couches. Both the Gungan and Devaronian's heads turned as Koda entered the room with weapon in hand - however their movements were robotic, lasting only a moment as the few neon lights in the room suddenly blinked.

​The two gang bosses and the four bodyguards within the room flickered in and out of existence as the door shut tight behind the Bounty Hunter as he would suddenly be alone. ​"Heh." ​A voice spoke all around him from microscopic speakers and hidden cameras in the room - the one way mirror on his left darkened as a small square holographic appeared, loading a viewscreen for a few moments as a large green Gamorrean appeared on screen.

​He was covered in tattoo's, the left side of his face was scared; the upper muscle of his cheek was permanently scorched and deflated, his eye was white and mechanical; entirely cybernetic. His two eyes fell on the Bounty Hunter, glee filling the fat features of his face as he grinned widely at the stoic Bounty Hunter.

​~Suddenly the exterior doors and windows to the Club on all levels were shut, covered with Phrik plating to deny the Bounty Hunter his escape~

​"Fett. So good to see you friend, It's taken a lot of careful planning to get you back in my pocket. You accepted a contract on me, you thought you succeeded. I deceived you! But not before you gave me this. - ​The Gamorrean leaned his left side closer, allowing Koda to inspect the gruesome wound that deformed half his face ​-Your anti-personnel rockets left quiet the mark. But now, you'll die for your insolence."

​It was only perhaps only then that the Bounty Hunter may have noticed that the music in the club had stopped as the holograph blinked out of existence as slug rounds and blaster bolts pierced the glass, firing through at Fett.

​The Holograph fizzled out of existence as the black mirror became neutral once more, revealing that the majority of the clubs patrons were carrying weaponry, paid Head Hunters for Fett's head.

​-

​The group of Bryn'adûl Drones lead by their Commander had entered a back-alley, using a set of stairs and setting mines along the exterior wall of one of the Clubs upper levels. They would enter and gain control of the building.

​Dekarr, the Gamorrean Crime Boss had had control of the other Gangs throughout Dredd's cities for some months before the Bryn'adûl arrived. Dekarr knew that a street war with the Bryn'adûl would cost more than he had, and cut a deal with the Bryn'adûl to help him kill Fett and in return they would get thirty percent of his products and fifty of the credits he made. It was a hard deal, but it was his only choice.

​Tathra, the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl was overseeing the assassination himself. Not only because he had planned to kill Dekarr and take over but because Koda Fett's reputation sited him as the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. The Chieftain was on board a small tactical cruiser in atmosphere, reviewing the progress of the operation as it continued.

​Dekarr was too afraid to agree to having Tathra himself on the ground and thusly only his men were on Dredd. However, Tathra could not contain his own egomania. The notoriety of killing the Bounty Hunter himself was something he desired, to conquer an distinguished warrior was the sweetest thing this Galaxy had to offer.

​He half-hoped that his own would be defeated by the Bounty Hunter, that way he could excuse himself from the position of leadership and kill the man in single combat. It was their way, to fight with honesty. He despised the way the common criminal worked. Yet, at times things we hate are necessary to our own fruition.

​| [member="Koda Fett"] |​

 

[Koda Fett]

Really thought he was dead.I

Fett certainly wasn't quite expectant of that, truly, and his reaction had been awfully telegraphic of that mere fact; immediately shifting into a far more combative stance, Carbine firmly gripped into both hands and extended ahead of himself whilst shifting towards the exits that soon became encased with phrik-- denying an exit, and creating an arena. His eyes narrowed beneath the T-Visor, and a concealed scowl had grown to stretch across his lips, evidently hidden, too. He had, however, eased up so slightly at the momentary reprieve he had believed to of been offered. Fett had been despised by many, and it were only a matter of time before he hadn't killed someone as well as he had previously thought. It might be that in which results in his ultimate demise. A fitting end, really.

"You should've stayed dead." The Bounty Hunter replied, speaking so dryly through his particularly truth-filled threat-- certain of every sound that departed his under-used voice box. He was absolutely in for a fight, but hardly could ever content with the famed hunter of man, a soulless being and an enigmatic murderer. He'd kill them, and if he were to die then a great many souls were to accompany him into the depths of the netherworld.

The Mandalorian leapt to his right, contorting his frame right down into a roll that concluded in a crouched position behind a piece of furniture that were to only momentarily provided protection. His HUD was quick to action, of course, identifying several targets that were undoubtedly gunning for his head as of right now. Smoke Grenades had been deployed, scattered throughout and engulfing the vast majority of the room in a field that obscured their vision, but not Fett's for his visor had adapted, allowing him to see. Missiles, stowed away within his wrist, locked themselves towards unfortunate individuals that were soon met with a barrage.

He could certainly combat a hired-gun, but a Bryn'adûl Commander had been something worthy of concern amidst a wave of attackers.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Bryn'adûl Commander hastily raised a fist, ​"[Draelvasier]: Set and blow!" ​The harsh words of their language was overwhelmed by the immediate presence of multiple shooters within the Club, entirely obliterating the small room in which the Bounty Hunter resided.

​-

​The steam of their overheated blaster weaponry was greeted by smoke reaching the edge of the nearest corners of dance floor; missiles swirling from within as the Bounty Hunter emerged untouched. The missiles found their victims handily, killing some - dismembering many. Suddenly the sounds of confident thugs was replaced with confused commotion as some moved for tables for cover, others froze in place while some started firing once more.

​-

​On the other side of the building, chunks of concrete imploded inward as the set charges caused a precise explosion, causing ash to rise a few feet from the ground with the Bryn'adûl soldiers towering above. The Commander lead them ahead, carrying his rifle close to his chest as he entered the building - followed by the Drones under its command as its primal eyes observed the corridor ahead. Their ears twitched at the sound of the blaster fire, moving quickly to reach an entrance to the club. They would not fail their Chieftain.

| [member="Koda Fett"] |​

 

[Koda Fett]

It hardly mattered to the Mandalorian that had found themselves rather fixated on the potential possibility of departing with their life intact. They may have cowered, they may have ran, but Fett had always been a vindictive individual that'd see their deaths before allowing someone to flee. Jango might've claimed a great many things throughout his specific code, but nothing entailed revenge or attempts to bringing pain for reasons beyond a task. Fett fired more precise rounds that seared through the smoke, striking foes, and ensuring their timely demise had been quick and left no opportunities for retribution.

His onslaught continued, defending his position as it had nearly been torn to complete shreds from the hail of fire that had been thrust in his path as nothing more than an obstacle to overcome. Persistent, as always. He remained oblivious to these Bryn'adûl Soldiers that had intended to make their approach, too concerned by the overwhelming odds that he faced.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The exchange of gunfire between the thugs within the Club and Bounty Hunter within was not one that favoured the amateur gunslingers within the ranks of the participating Cartels. Many of them were killed by a slew of blaster fire escaping from the smoke that once held a Bounty Hunter in an unprovoked stance.

​-

​The Section of Bryn'adûl forces that entered the Club moved with a graceful pace, they were on an upper level - a circular hallway that surrounded the Club's main dance floor with one sided marble walls all around the circular hall. The Officer stopped at the entrance to the upper level, raising his left arm; wrist at a upward angle, adjacent to his forearm as it moved in a circular motion at the wrist - a swift gesture to command the Drones as six of them spread out two metres apart from one and other, ready to fire upon their Officers command.

​The Officer was accompanied by six more, splitting off into two groups to head for two parallel side entrances into the club. One behind the bar and the other - a backdoor near some of the dancing polls that sat a top crystallised platforms. Both granted cover, both flanking the room the Bounty Hunter remained within with adjacent lanes of fire.

​The Officer waited, his Drones above were to notify them if Koda left what little cover remained. Then, and only then would they push him.

| [member="Koda Fett"] |​