Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Bounty Drunkenwell

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Druckenwell. Large, overcrowded urban cities run by corporate guilds with not a single bit of undeveloped land. Sahan honestly hated such places. there was a wide gap between the impoverished and the so-call "elite" corpos. Not that was a particularly rare thing in the Galaxy. There were hosts of worlds with greedy snobs who looked down on others. But at least these people weren't Hutts. And it was a great place to find black-market items and search for bounty contracts - often within the city of Il Avali itself, which was a bit easier than having to travel across the Galaxy. Plenty of people had issues with others here. That simply happened when cities got overcrowded.

Happy's Landing was a quaint' little ale house in the "bad quarter" of the city. The corporates tended to refer to the quarter as "Drunkenwell," as if they wished it were a separate planet all its own. Sahan entered the building and took a seat at the bar. The barmaid greeted him. "Ah, a Mandalorian. Here fer food an' drink? We don' really have any bounty contracts at the moment. Not that are worth anythin', at least. Could always check with the Corpos, if you can stand bein' around 'em. Would you like some Elba water?"

"That so?" Sahan replied. "Guess I'll check them out later. Since I'm here, I might as well have something. I'll take that drink and whatever you have on the daily special." He took his helmet off and hung it on his belt.

The woman's eyes widened when she saw Sahan's face. The woman grinned, her face blushing slightly. "That would be nerf kebabs with either fritzle fries or hudalla rings."

Sahan gave the woman a smile. "The fries will do, thanks." As he sat waiting for the meal, he pondered on what he could do. He didn't exactly need the money, but he had invested most of what he'd had in various stocks. It would be a while before anything came from that. He wanted to see if he could get his own business off the ground. Meeting that Vasher guy had instilled in Sahan a feeling of rivalry just to make something better. He wanted to at least rival Force-Tech. But it would take a bit of work to save up the money for that. Once he had enough, maybe he could purchase a business contract with Roble. It would be a start, at least.

The barmaid brought the food and drink to Sahan, still smiling. Sahan gave her a wink, which made her giggle as she went to help other customers. Sahan settled down to enjoy the spicy dish. It was quite good for its reasonable price, and the drink was quite refreshing. It was worth a trip here, though he hoped to the Manda that some kind of opportunity would fall in his lap soon....
 
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Another world, another world's drinking sector.

Rann had a habit of finding himself in locations such as this these days. With no current purpose, Rann found himself wandering more often then not, and fate would have it he wandered in here, sat himself at a table by himself, ordered a bottle of some nameless hard liquor, and began to drink. The world around him meant very little as he lay his head on the table, pondering his life up until this moment.

He used to have his own planet under the Confederacy. A city he had built, a temple that was his, all on Rannon. Then after a cascade of setbacks he had lost everything. His city had revolted against him just by nature of who his father was and being forced to defend himself Rann had blown up a building and fled.

He took another long drink and looked down at his belt, pulling the fabric of his robe away. There, next to his twin sabers, sat the Mask.
Darth Qanah's
mask. His mask. One he hadn't worn since that day, but one he had worn very often before it. Darth Qanah wasn't Rann for very long, but he still was there. Dormant. Rann grabbed the mask from his belt and studied it.

The craftsmanship was exquisite still, even all these years later, and the scratches were only minimal. It was...so tempting to put it on. To lose himself again. Especially at times like these, with Rann's inhibitions dulled by the drink in his free hand. But that wasn't who he was anymore.

With a sneer, Rann threw the mask down on the table and took another drink. It figured one of the only things he would consistently have in his possession was this damned mask. He laid his head back down, wondering if now was the time to be rid of it entirely, when he heard a voice.

"I...I recognize that mask." Some voice had said, causing Rann to lift his head and look at the person who spoke.
"What?" He responded, scanning the direction until a human man looked at him and spoke again, louder. "That mask!" he said, pointing, "And your arm. Right arm. Fake, right? Robot arm?"
Rann blinked and looked down at his right arm and squeezed it, wishing he had gloved it. "Yeah? So what?" Rann responded, tensing, "You're a Verd right? One a' those darksiders?" the man asked, very accusatorily and people started to stare. Rann rose to his feet, grabbing the mask and placing it back on his belt. He looked around and felt very uncomfortable all of a sudden. This attention made him extremely nervous. "Uhhh..." he panicked, he couldn't think of a lie on the spot and relented, "Sigh. Yeah so what?" He asked again, knowing the answer. "This bastard's a terrorist! Blew up a whole building full of innocent people!"
Rann blinked several times processing what the man had just said before responding, "Now hold on, they attack-" "Shut it, murderer!" The man jeered, and a crowd began to gather. "They came to kill me. I defended myself." Rann said, quickly, but the man wouldn't hear it.

Suddenly a strange feeling began to appear in Rann's heart. Was it....fear? Apprehension? Or maybe just anxiety? Something felt...off about the situation. The Force was telling him something, but all he could think about was how He didn't want to hurt this man. Rann raised his hands to try and calm him down but elicited only more jeers.

This was bad, he thought. It had been so long since Rannon, and the Galaxy was such a huge place he hadn't thought he'd ever run into anyone who was actually there. He also doubted any of these people actually cared what happened several systems away under a defunct nation anyway and wouldn't risk their lives attacking a Force User. This man probably wouldn't risk his life attacking either, but he could ruin Rann's night.

And it was working.

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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Sahan was finishing the last few bites of his meal when he heard a commotion. He turned to see someone yelling at another guy who seemed to be trying to drink in peace. Who were they? Sahan heard the name Verd mentioned. Where had he heard that before? He quickly finished the food and gulped down the elba water. He jammed his helmet on his head and scanned the two individuals.

The noisy man seemed to be originally from some planet called Rannon. Sahan wasn't familiar with that place. The second man...
Well, this was interesting. Rann Thress, wanted in the Rannon system. No womder the guy had recognized him and was upset. And apparently Rann Thress was part of the Dar'manda clan Verd, all listed as wanted dead by the Enclave for joining Sith. Looked like a bounty had fallen in his lap after all.

Sahan stood. From the corner of his eye, he could see a few perceptive people get up and hurry out of the place. He walked over and put a hand on the yelling man, who instantly silenced himself upon seeing the Mandalorian. Sahan waved the man away, who quickly ducked underneath a table on the other side of the alehouse, not wanting to miss what might happen. Sahan took a seat across from the wanted man.

"Rann Thress of House Verd. Not only a Dar'manda clan, but a Sith one. You've got quite the bounty on you. Don't suppose you'd be willing to come quietly." Sahan knew very well the man would not, and he drew his hand cannon underneath the table.
 
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"A Mandalorian? ...Shit." Rann said simply, sitting back down and keeping his hands up above the table.

"I gotta be honest with you. I don't know what...ever you said means. And...Just Rann Thress is fine. Isley Verd is only my Father, I never really considered....Know what? Doesn't matter." He stopped himself, not wanting to spew his familial drama to this stranger and hostile. "Yeah I suppose I do have a bounty don't I? I never really thought about it but that figures, yeah."

So this is what the Force was warning him about? He could feel the blaster underneath the table pointed at him as well, and he studied the armor.
"Willing to put money on your armor's not just normal Beskar, is it?" He asked. He had known of the Enclave when they were a part of the CIS, and he had dealt with more than his fair share of shooters who tricked out their armor in anti-force heresies and loaded kinetic ammunition into their weapons. While this Mandalorian hadn't stated he was a member of the Enclave, knowing about Clan Verd seemed a pretty good guess.

"And I'm willing to bet that blaster your aiming at me is loaded with slugs." He said, keeping his hands flat down on the table. This was a bad situation to find himself in. If he didn't move, he was getting arrested. If he did move, he was getting shot, and then getting arrested. But Rann did quickly come up with a plan. The mask got him into this mess, it may be able to get him out. And so, Rann reached into the Force and unhooked his mask from his belt, moving it to block the line of fire of the Mandalorian's blaster. Would it stop the slug? Rann didn't know. But whatever happened would be a damn sight better then taking a shot directly.

"No, no I won't be coming quietly." He said, then sneered at the masked Mandalorian, "I don't know what Dra'Manda means, or the significance of being that and a Sith," which, Rann was no longer, not in his eyes, not really, but he didn't begrudge the Mandalorian that inaccuracy, "but I'll take it as a compliment coming from a member of a turncoat organization like yours...If you're Enclave."

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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Sahan was a little taken aback by the man's comments. Turncoats? He wasn't entirely sure about the full history of the Enclave, he'd pretty much spent most of his life at the White Scar Post training under his adoptive father Siv Dragr Siv Dragr . Still, he didn't take too kindly to the words. He might have been willing to hear the guy out - an unlikely maybe, considering the sizeable sum he could get from both providing proof of his capture to Rannon and the actual capture to Liin Terallo Liin Terallo , but still a maybe all the same - but now it was a little more personal. This guy was going down on sheer principle.

"Rich, coming from someone of a family of traitors to the Resol'nare itself." He then kicked the table up between them and shot through it with his hand cannon, the slug splintering the table. Hopefully that would take the man by enough surprise for Sahan to ensnare him with the grappling line in his left vambrace and sling the man across the room.
 
Talk about sins of the father, Rann thought to himself as the table was kicked up into his face. He had prepared to reach out and push the table back at the Mandalorian when the table suddenly splintered and he felt the Force screaming at him that he was in danger. He had expected the shot to come from beneath the table, not through it, and did not have the wherewithal to re-direct the bullet entirely. Luckily, however, he did manage to slow it down and push it ever so slightly out of center mass, and, throwing his robotic right arm up, felt the round slam into the metallic forearm. The pressure of the blow blew him on his back and he struggled to recollect himself before the Force, again, screamed at him about impending danger, too late to do anything substantial about it as the glowing line wrapped itself around his leg and Rann felt himself being very quickly thrown around the room, slamming into another table several yards away with a loud crash and a louder groan of pain.

Shaking off the impact, Rann turned around to look at the Mandalorian and reached out with the Force, his palm flat as the tables around them, one housing the Rannon citizen under it, all simultaneously flew towards the helmeted hunter. With his free hand, Rann summoned one of his lightsabers to it and ignited it with a brilliant purple spark before imbuing the air around the lightsaber like a shell and firing it from his hand with the Force towards the Mandalorians Chest.

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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The ploy with the grappling line has worked quite well, but that did not mean Sahan could get cocky. Force Users were capable of all sorts of tricks. Learning to adapt and combat such tricks was a key part of Mandalorian training. As the tables flew toward him, propelled by the dark wizard's magick, Sahan fired at them to splinter them and change their trajectory. Only smaller pieces of wood hit him harmlessly, instead of much larger tables. He hated to cause so much damage to the place, but it was better to keep the man inside, where he had less opportunity to flee. Besides, the double bounty he could get would leave plenty to cover the damages.

While he was splintering the tables with his hand cannon slugs, Sahan failed to notice the lightsaber shoot across the room right at him. It connected squarely with the breastplate of his beskar'gam with enough force to send him spinning in the air. Luckily, the armor easily deflected the blade to keep it from piercing, and Sahan had aerial combat training, so he was able to quickly reorient himself. Activating the magna-glove in his gauntlet, he pulled the dropped lightsaber from the floor. "This will make a nice trophy. Perhaps that mask too."

Sahan fired several more shots at the sorcerer, all aiming for non-vital areas. He wanted the man alive. He had now used up about half of the magazine he had in the modified Verpine. Activating his flight systems, he launched himself quickly through the air to aim a blow from the lightsaber hilt at the man's head in an attempt to knock him unconscious.
 
Well, it’s a start. Rann thought as the lightsaber bounced off the armor, the impact sending the Mandalorian flying, taking this quick opportunity to free himself from the line that was dragging him across the ground. After, Rann started to reach out to pull the lightsaber towards him when the Mandalorian did it himself, activating some mechanism in his gauntlet to summon the lightsaber to his own hand, making some remark about how it’d make a nice trophy. It and…and the mask.

His mask.

No… he thought, as he felt the rage building inside him. How dare this Mandalorian even mention claiming the mask? It was His! It was HIS. IT WAS HIS!

“No!” Rann screamed, “The mask is mine!” He yelled out, bending the force to his will , creating a field around him, stopping the slugs fired at him dead in the air as he pulled his second lightsaber from his belt and ignited it as he stood, immediately going to deflect the attack on his head by deliberately aiming towards the armored gauntlet of the Mandalorian, and with his free hand he reached up to grab the lightsaber.

At the same time, with the faintest of head twitches, Rann had gripped the man who had started this mess, the man from Rannon, by the throat with the Force.
“Now you see how your kin died, whelp.” He snarled, his eyes, a pale yellow instead of vibrant blue, remaining locked on the visor of the Mandalorian as he snapped the neck of the man, drawing screams from the crowd as the man’s neck bent awkwardly, and his lifeless body was flung towards the Mandalorian.
“The mask isn’t his. It’s mine.” came the voice from Ranns mouth.

Mine.

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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Great, definitely a Darkside psycho, Sahan thought, as the sorcerer held on to the lightsaber Sahan had aimed at the man's skull and snapped the Rannon man's neck. It was disturbing, but Sahan was not perturbed by it. Sahan quickly let go of the saber hilt and grabbed a small spray can of his belt, spraying the contents of the AXC directly in the man's face.

Sahan jumped backwards before the man could recover and attack. He quickly popped out the magazine from his verpine and loaded the Force Breaker rounds. Let him try to stop these, though Sahan hoped the AXC would take effect and make things easier. He'd successfully used it once before, but apparently the stuff could be finicky. He took aim and readied himself, waiting to see how it would affect the dark wizard.

 
The Mandalorian was quick, there was no doubt about that. He had thought the whelps body would send the Mandalorian to the ground so he could deliver the coup de grace in that sweet spot underneath the chin...but no. The Mandalorian had wisely removed himself from Melee range, but not before spraying him in the face with some chemical that made him cough and sputter.

"Gas?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "I'm..so sure there was a reason for that. I just...I don't see it." He laughed harder, putting his liberated lightsaber on his belt and reaching a hand out towards his Mask, commanding the Force to deliver it to him...


And the Force hesitated. Just for a brief moment. The Force paused....

But it always listened to him? Always. The laughter died from his lips...but the Mask came to him, only after mere moments of waiting, but not as instant as it should have been. But he dare not give the Mandalorian the impression that that was out of the ordinary.

What was that gas. He asked. knowing what it must be. He knew how strong he was, he knew the Force obeyed him....Always. It never hesitated. It never held back for him. He commanded, where Rann requested. He took, where Rann asked. And he would kill, where Rann would only wound. If the Force denied him...that gas did it.

With a frustrated sigh, he put his mask on, a slight sound playing as it locked itself into position on his face with a slight hiss.

"No more gas." He said, his voice metallic from inside the mask as he reached up and pulled his hood over his head.
"No more chances, Mandalorian," he continued, reaching back down and retrieving his second lightsaber, igniting it and flourishing the blades as he lowered himself into position.
"And no more of your heresies." He finished as he aimed a blade at the Mandalorian, as he commanded the Force to gather into his legs, preparing to launch himself straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the throat of the Mandalorian determined to take his head.

"Thank your lucky stars I'm incredibly nice. You'll die quick. I'm not a sadist." He said with a chuckle, immediately replaced with a roar as he launched himself at his foe, ready to end this fight.

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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Damn black-market products. Obviously the AXC hadn't worked as it should have. It probably had been diluted, weakening the effects. He'd have to use more to get it to work properly, but the dark sorcerer had put a mask on. Sahan would have to remove the mask to be able to dose him with the AXC again. However, he did have another way....

The wizard leapt forward, brandishing his dual lightsabers and spouting maniacal nonsense. It was almost funny to Sahan. If the man were not trying to kill him. Not that such a thing would be an easy task. But apparently it also wasn't going to be such an easy task for Sahan to take the sorcerer down either.

Sahan spun and dodged the first strike and grabbed the blade of the second, throwing it sideways with his cortosis gauntlets to shut the saber down with a feedback loop. "Dream on, Warlock," he replied to the man's taunt. He aimed a punch to the guy's mask with his left fist and fired a Force Breaker round aimed at the man's abdomen.

A third swing of the first blade he had dodged before caught the side of Sahan's neck with a heavy blow that was strong enough to send Sahan tumbling and crashing into some tables. His armor and cortosis-weave scarf had prevented the lightsaber from slicing through, but the blow still hurt like haran. Sahan groaned as he landed amongst the splintered tables. Yeah, this was definitely going to be more difficult than he had thought.

 
Too slow, he had thought to himself, connecting his lightsaber to the side of the Mandalorian's neck but eating a blast in his gut and a punch to his face at the same time.

He stumbled back after the Mandalorian had been sent tumbling and disengaged one of his lightsabers, returning it to his belt and placing a hand on his abdomen. He brought the hand up to his visor and observed the slick red blood that ran over his fingers, and felt his knees buckle slightly before willing himself to stay standing. He turned a gaze towards the Mandalorian, sighing angrily.

"You got a heck of a left hook, I'll be honest. Between you and I, though, I hate with everything that I am that...crap you Mandalorians tend to drape yourself in." He said, gesturing his lightsaber towards his opponent as he turned to square off with him. "Respectable person would have the nice sense to be decapitated right now but.... Oh well. We'll get there, won't we?" He said as he reached forward with his hand to the splinters of wood and table around the downed Mandalorian, seeking to pelt him with high-speed bullets of his own...but nothing happened. He reached out more, strained his arm, and only a wiggle before a few splinters raised and he dropped them in frustration, returning his hand to his gut.

"What is this nonsense, Mandalorian? Can't beat me at my best so you weaken me with your heretical tricks?"
He yelled, growing more frustrated. "No matter. I just need this to kill you." He finished, brandishing his lightsaber, breaking out into a run to close the gap before collapsing under his weight, the pain in his abdomen bringing him to his knees as it spread throughout his body. He groaned and looked up towards the Mandalorian, gritting his teeth behind his mask as he simply hurled his lightsaber at the man, hoping for a lucky strike in a chink in the armor.

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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"Respectable person would have the nice sense to be decapitated right now but.... Oh well. We'll get there, won't we?"

"What is this nonsense, Mandalorian? Can't beat me at my best so you weaken me with your heretical tricks?"
"Funny, I could say the same thing to you, refusing to come quietly or go down easily," Sahan replied as he got to his feet. "And the whole point of beating someone is to weaken them until they either can't or won't fight anymore. You're the heretic, abusing the Manda's gift as you do."

The thrown lightsaber flew at Sahan, but it no longer had the push of the Force behind it. Sahan simply sidestepped it and caught the handle in his left hand, deactivating the blade. "Now, why don't you just go to sleep?" He activated the vibro-shock whipcord in his right vambrace, aiming to wrap it around the man's neck to jerk him forward and slam a microthruster and exoskeleton boosted knee smashing into his masked face. The move would be excruciatingly painful for Sahan, if it landed, but it would surely knock Thress completely unconscious.

TAGS: Rann Thress Rann Thress
 
He growled in frustration as the Mandalorian once again took his lightsaber.

"That doesn't belong to you. We've been over this." he snarled as he reached out with the Force towards the Lightsaber... and nothing happened.

He looked at his hand in a mix of shock and disbelief before clenching his fist shut and readying his blade low, almost pointing directly at the Mandalorian. He wasn't ready for the sudden firing of the cord, nor was he able to defend or react against it wrapping itself around his neck. He had one small moment before the cord went completely taut where his hand went up to try and pull it off, but to no avail. Behind his mask, his face betrayed a look of panic as a quiet "No..." slipped from his lips the moment before the cord went live, shocking him and yanking him forward. He was unable to keep a handle on his other lightsaber as well, and it deactivated as it left his hand.

The Mandalorian's knee met his Mask right where his nose was, and the impact was so hard it a loud crack sound was heard as Rann's head whipped back, the force of the blow sending him back, planting him flat with his eyes towards the ceiling.

Rann took a minute, as the electric current subsided, to gather his thoughts. It seemed he was back in control... with him firmly knocked out. Unfortunately, the body they shared was still beaten, and Rann could do little more than raise a hand to his face, pulling the mask off. He exhaled heavily. exhausted from the ordeal, and turned the mask over to look at it. The visor was shattered and the previously flawless design and coloring was now marred with a shatterpoint mark right in the middle, cracks shooting out across the mask.

"That settles that." He said weakly, his arm falling. He tasted blood, and licked his lips. Surely his nose was broken, and he felt tears well in his eyes as the pain began to hit him in waves. He tried again to rise, but his body did not obey him. He called on the Force, but it, too, was silent. It was like an off switch...and the world began to grey as the ceiling he had focused on began to lose it's color, and the world around him entered a haze...

Sahan Dragr Sahan Dragr
 
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"About damn time..." Sahan sighed in relief as his quarry slumped unconscious to the floor. That was exhausting, he thought to himself. Catching his breath, he flexed his sore knee that he had driven into the guy's face. It hurt like haran and was possibly fractured a bit, but his armor would soon begin pumping bacta and other healants through his body to heal.

He went and picked up the bounty target, throwing him across his shoulder, having to rely on the exoskeleton and synthetic muscle fibers in his armor to aid his exhausted body. He reached into a pouch and pulled out an aurodium coin. He slapped it on the bar counter. "For the damages," he muttered. He walked out into the street and flew off toward his ship.

With the man bound on his ship, he sent a message to Liin Terallo Liin Terallo . "I captured another sorcerer for you. I'll need coordinates for where to drop him off. He's unconscious and powerless right now, but I warn you, he's strong. Once he gets his powers back... well, it's on you to keep him contained. My part is done."

After dropping Thress off on New Cov and getting paid a handsome sum, Sahan took a trip to Rannon. He turned in the odd mask the man had, showing them the new shatterpoint crack in it. He collected the bounty. Double pay was very satisfying indeed. With this money, he could invest in adding more to his forge and building his company. But first, maybe he'd take a small vacation. He felt he deserved one after that ordeal.

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