Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Give--Them--Justice!

Location: Tatoowine
Time: Unknown

James felt his body being jostled through gods knew how many passages and turns. After having four stun shots to the chest and a few blows to his extravagantly dashing face, the spacer was beyond disoriented. Not to mention he was sure that the body odor waffing of the Wequay behind him had to be a crime of assault, even on a backwater planet like this one. It was enough to make him want to cry. Almost.

After all, how was he supposed to know that she wasa slave girl? Its not like she was exactly warning him. Besides--she was pretty. Very pretty. And the smile she had was so shy in all the sweet ways he liked. Granted, the near-human had yet to see anything about a woman he didn't like but that wasn't the point. Was it worth it? James smirked from behind the burlap bag. Totally.

Finally he reached his destination. He heard a metal door open and was tossed face first onto the floor. The thin layer of sand hardly was an adaquate buffer against the stone under it. "Feth, rough much?"

The door slammed behind the spacer with a sense of finality. He heard the gurads behind him give loud laughing boisterous jokes. The polygot got the message through his haze: he was as good as dead--or so much worse.

[member="Bat"]
[member="Kratos Bandua"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
Bat dragged his feet to the best of his ability as he was dragged over to an empty cell. He still felt the sting of weakness in his stomach, but he also realized that if he didn't act soon, he'd probably be dead. Even if he wasn't, staying here meant that he'd have to explain his absence to his father figure, and revealing his life as a mercenary was not something he wanted to do.

It probably said something about his personality that he was more afraid of disappointing Randy than of the Gamorrean currently pushing him forward. The weakness faded a small amount as he was pressed into the bars, the Gamorrean fumbling with a set of keys to open the cell. Bat let his feet go onto the solid ground, and used the bounce of it to spin around, elbow cracking painfully into the pig's snout.

The Gamorrean let out a low grunt of pain as it was pushed backwards slightly. Bat prepped himself to fight his way out, and then realized why the Gamorrean was still employed when it plowed into him, throwing him into the bars hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs. The fight went out of him as the pig kicked him in the ribs and slung him into the cell, locking the door behind him.

As he lay there on the floor, he looked across the way to the opposite cell, one holding some sort of space cowboy based on his look. He blinked, turning his attention to the ceiling and putting a hand on his chest.
"Ah kriff." He wheezed.
[member="James Justice"]
 
The masked padawan did all he could, tricking and manipulating and generally just being a far superior diplomat than those he found himself incarcerated with. He tried, unsuccessfully, to get [member="James Justice"] to leave the girl be. It pained the former slave to see others in his past circumstances, but he needed a plan of action. And, the opportunity to make said plan vanished as the first couple of rounds made contact with Justice. Quick thinking, and very cautious, subtle weaving of the Force, was all that kept Ryn'Dhal from finding himself equally battered.

After being roughly shoved into his cell next to James, the padawan pinched the bridge of his nose, ears folded back. "Well, isn't this a joyous day. I know you said women would be the death of you one day, but I'll admit, I didn't take it that seriously." Those feline features drawn back in concern, as golden eyes watched the near-human in the next cell attempt to regain himself. "Had they been less thorough in their search of me, my sabers would be mighty useful about now...."

He took a seat, back against the far wall, as he watched the bars of his cell. Wheels began turning. How do we get out.... "James..... d'ya think these bars might be durasteel?" The padawan asked, his tail tapping the ground slightly, a plan slowly forming in that active mind.

[member="Bat"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
The near human rolled over grumpily. On top of his pounding he had received and frankly the annoyance that his silver togue had failed him mixed with a real hunger for a cigarette and a bottle of alcohol made him more than iritable. And couded his judgement.

As the stun shots finally wore off he looked at the bars, trying to focus in on them, but his eyes refused to obey. He did see the humanoid on the other side looking at him. Coughing and rising to Hus elbows he nodded, "Aye. Me thinks so."

Doing his best to crawl forward he gave the person across the hall his best winning smile, his voice haorse but still semi-charming. "Well hail there." He blinked twice. "What's ye name?"

[member="Bat"]
[member="Kratos Bandua"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
The space cowboy was talking to him, didn't he see he was busy groaning and staring at the leaky ceiling. Bat supposed it was for the best that he communicated with his fellow prisoners, maybe they could even think up a way out of here. It wasn't likely, especially when one considered the lack of resources that tended to pervade prisons.

"You can call me Bat." He answered as he picked himself up, wiping off his uniform and mask. At least they had left him his identity concealers, though it was probably out of laziness more so than actual professional courtesy. "What about you? What's your name and crime?" He questioned, beginning to truly examine his surroundings.

A quick glance brought his gaze over to a strange being he hadn't seen before. "What's with the mask, pal?" He interrogated, obviously distrustful of people wearing masks, though the hypocrisy of it didn't escape him.

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="James Justice"]
 
"I don't do well socially. Anxiety and all." The padawan would utter, sizing up the bars, before chuckling slightly. "Well then [member=Bat]. I'm still lost on what my friend here did to get us thrown down here, but my crime was being his associate."

He would remove his mask, and set it aside, revealing his feline features. Long ears, golden eyes, black fur, the whole nine yards. He'd then begin removing his tunic, revealing the vast artistry of a network of scars accumulated over a short life of abuse and torment. Most looked like wounds inflicted in 'punishment', but a good third of them seemed precise. Intentional scars. Someone took a knife to this young man. Many times. Over many years.

After folding his tunic and setting it aside with his mask, he'd glance to the others. "You both will need time to get your strength back up. But when the time comes for whatever plans either of you want to come up with for getting us clear of this place...." His gaze moved back to the metal bars. "Should these be durasteel, I'll be our door-man." He'd say, a wicked grin cutting across his normally docile face.

[member="James Justice"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]

(Gives us time for Kratos to get involved before the jailbreak can begin)
 
Bat gave a low chuckle at hearing the reason for the fellow's incarceration. "Sometimes being an associate is enough." He offered, casting a quick glance over at the space cowboy. He moved his gaze back, only to find the being removing it's mask and tunic. Bat took a step back, eyeing the... cat person warily.

He'd never seen anything like it, but he recognized the scars littering it's body for experience in being hurt. Sometimes being hurt enough meant that you were a professional, though, after a certain limit it just meant you weren't tough enough to stop the person causing the pain. Counting the scars as rapidly as he could, he came to the conclusion that this fellow was probably of the second variety.

"Quite a lot of wounds you have there, door-man." He spoke softly, the title strung out in an searingly sarcastic manner. He blinked a couple times under his mask, shaking his head as he turned to look back into his cell. A small and dirty cot lay in the corner, and; despite his best judgement, he took a seat on it's corner, crinkling his nose at the odor it emitted at close range.

"Resting is fine for a couple minutes." He turned his attention back to the space cowboy "So, what is it you did, pal?"
[member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="James Justice"]
 
Kratos sat quietly in meditation, hearing but not listening to the conversation around him; he'd been thrown into the same cell as @Bat. Not that he'd done anything illegal, just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hadn't bothered to put up much of a fight. It would have been to much trouble to cause a scene, and he was trying to remain relatively inconspicuous. The more attention he drew to himself the more distractions he had, and his years with the B'omarr monks had told him precisely to avoid distractions.

Despite his arrest, he was allowed to keep his helmet and robes on. The six slits for eyes remained quiet as he contemplated his escape. He hadn't moved when his cellmate had attacked the Gamorrean guard, unwilling to finish his meditation prematurely. As the calm waves of the ocean of peace washed through his mind, he determined that he'd done enough sitting around for the time being.

They'd searched him thoroughly, removing his halberd and his spatula. However, he'd managed to pass off the chicken foot as some superstitious relic, not letting off any signs of how proficient he was with the "weapon".

"Any weapons?" he asked, motioning at his cellmate with one three-fingered hand. He pushed himself slowly to his feet and wiped off his robes; he was in no hurry. "I might have a way to get us out of here, and it would help if you had anything to fight with." His voice was deep and resonant, but dry and raspy at the same time. He hadn't spoken to many people in the last few months, and monosyllabic sentences even then. But he knew communication was important for this type of thing.
 
James fished into his pocket before realizing he had no cigarettes. Mumbling a curse under his breath he looked at Bat across the hall, "Name be Captain James--James Justice. I ask ye to not make fun of me friend here, he be a good wing man, the type who ye can really count on when times get tough."

The spacer rubbed his cut forehead and winced, "Me crime? Well, I found a pretty lady, that be all," he shrugged, "apparently if she be owned as a slave that makes a difference to some folk in this world."

Taking a few minutes to recover, he stretched out. The colors dancing before his eyes had vanished. He saw the stranger in the corner start moving, and speaking of escape. That was all he needed, even when drunk, which was most of the time, James knew he could work his own. How many blockades had he made his way out of stone cold drunk? He couldn't remember. That was enough for him.

Reaching into his belt, close to his skin James pulled out a punching knife. It was old, a relic that he kept on hand for good luck, the only thing now that he had from his father and grand father, "I got this here knife, mate. Ye should know I can do my own, and this fella," he waved at Ryn and chuckled, "well, let's just say, looks ain't everything, eh?"

[member="Kratos Bandua"]
[member="Bat"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
"My wounds..." The padawan muttered, tracing a single claw across a particular scar, an old branding scar, that had been quite recently ravaged, judging but the redness of the newest layer scar-tissue. Likely by the furry man's own claws at that. "Most of them, were intended for others. Friends, who wouldn't have survived the punishment. So I took the beatings in their stead, claiming their crimes as my own." His eyes, which had been narrowed dangerously at the empty hallway outside the cage, darted over to [member=Bat].

He managed to refrain from scoffing when the quiet one in the corner asked about weapons. Ryn'Dhal, even without the Force to back him, was a living weapon. An apex predator. They would soon learn why he feared his own potential.

But then he did scoff. Laugh a little, even. A dark laugh, but a laugh none the less. "James, my friend. You have no idea. You're about to witness my dark secret. The side of me I try in earnest to keep to myself, to keep in check. A part of me I neglected to share with everyone on Watcher's vessel." He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "Gentlemen, be ready. There are three down at the end of the hall. I can feel them. All of them are the pig-faces. A few others, numbers I can't tell right now, up the stairs beyond the guard station. We WILL have a hell of a fight on our hands." He removed is boots, then pants, folding all his clothes together and handing the bundle through the bars into James' cage. "I wont be able to carry those or wear them for a bit. So, do me a favor eh?"

The now naked, and severely scarred feline humanoid stood in the center of the cage, and began to concentrate. "I hope you guys are ready. In about a minute, I'm going to pop this can. Wide. Karking. Open." His melodic voice distorted on that last word. A gravely growl emitting from his throat with the word, as his voice dropped a bit in octave. His biceps bulged, along with his pectoral muscles. Oh yeah.... it was going to get good.

[member="James Justice"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
Bat glanced between the pair of fellows in the other cages, then his eyes darted to the being inside of his own cage. He hadn't actually seen him before then, probably something to do with being rammed into the bars so many times. When they asked about weapons, he began to feel around himself, but it appeared as though his equipment had been taken when he was captured.

He stood up, and briefly felt the cot he had been sitting on. There was a sheet buried slightly under the thing, and he quickly removed it. With a couple of twists in his hands, it became taut and rope-like. Good enough as a weapon until he could find his equipment, and then the party could really get started.

"Yeah, we'll see how good your friend is when he busts us out, pal." He spoke with an obvious hint of disbelief, only strengthened with curiosity as he saw the cat person begin to remove it's clothing and hand it through the bars to the space cowboy who had identified himself as James Justice.
"We'll see."
[member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="James Justice"] |[member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
Friend? What friend? Kratos thought, finally opening his eyes and gazing at the cells across the hall. A space cowboy and some sort of cat thing. He didn't know either of them, only that they were probably in for the same reason he was. Unlikely compatriots, but the more the merrier. If the cat thing followed through on his promises, Kratos wouldn't even have to do anything.

He idly twirled the chicken foot around his hand, musing upon how silly it would seem to an outsider: a well-muscled, well-trained warrior wielding nothing but the foot of a chicken and hoping to escape a prison. Never mind the training he'd put in with the "weapon". All part of his journey to find a weapon unique to him that fit his fighting styles perfectly. The chicken foot hadn't been it, but it always made a good backup weapon.

"If our fuzzy pal over there doesn't bust us out, I still have a plan," he added to his cellmate, warily watching the beast. It seemed to be getting bigger and more muscular. Maybe it would reach the size of the Gamorrean guards who held them there. It would be an interesting fight out, that was certain. He had no doubt that he could take out a Gamorrean with what he had available, but he wasn't sure about the others. They looked competent enough.

[member="Bat"] [member="James Justice"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
James had seen, well never mind what all he had seen but in all his journeys across the worlds he had never seen anything like this before. As he tucked away the feline's clothing in a satchel he watched the docile fellow start to morph.

Partially curious and very intreagued he stood and shuffled away from the door, running his finger along his chin. Taking a spot against the stone wall, the spacer seated the punching dagger in his hand. It would do but he had a feeling his bar room brawling skills would come in handy right now. His fist fighting wasn't clean and it certainly wasn't fair but he would make it our alive and that was all that mattered, right?

Fishing in his pocket absentmindedly again James was reminded his cigarettes had been confiscated. He sighed, if his judgment was going to be clear he knew he would need some tobacco--soon.

[member="Bat"]
[member="Kratos Bandua"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
The transformation had begun. His mass began multiplying at an exponential rate. Soon, his legs buckled, shifting in their structure in such a way that made bipedal movement exceedingly difficult. As his hands hit the deck, they changed as well, growing larger, meatier. They lost their dexterity, their ability for fine manipulations, but instead grew more powerful, the claws larger and sharper. He couldn't refrain from emitting a savage snarl as large, sharp spines erupted along his back, a twin row running from near his shoulders to his hips. At the same time his canine fangs erupted from his maw, each one a dagger in their own right.

The massive, scarred beast brimmed with power, muscles trembling beneath his fur. Easily weighing in now at over 300kg, the beast eyed each of his compatriots in their own cages for a moment, before lunching at his cell-door. Biting into the portion of the door that held the latch, the beast seemed as though it was going to do nearly nothing. Teeth can't hope to beat durasteel.

Then the amazing happened. The metal sheered under the strength of the bite, and the sharpness of the fangs. With a snarl and a mighty wrenching motion, he ripped the door of his cell nearly off its karking hinges. The beast gave no pause, as he latched onto the spacers cell door, much to the same effect. The clattering metal drew the guards attention, their voices audible down the hall, obviously questioning what the ruckus was. As [member="James Justice"]'s gate swung open, the massive beast looked at him with those intelligent, golden eyes, and gave a slight nod of its head, before attacking the third and final cell. The first of the guards was beginning to lumber down the corridor as the third durasteel door gave way.

Around the time that first guard rounded the corner, he would find three of their captives free, the fourth missing, and a big karking cat-monster-from-hell with them.

The fan had officially been struck by poodoo....

[member="Kratos Bandua"] | [member=Bat]
 
Bat couldn't help but be drawn to the transformation occurring just diagonal to his cell. It was as if though the strange cat being had suddenly taken enough juice to down an athlete, and was now some sort of monstrous animal. Even if it wasn't the largest animal he'd ever seen, it was probably the largest that he'd been this close too, which made it highly dangerous in his eyes.

He winced backwards as it tore it's door away, and then moved over to James' door and did the same. Bat took a few steps backwards as it approached his own cell, casting a glance over to his cell-mate and hoping that the cat being didn't take out some sort of revenge for his earlier comments. It didn't, and the breath of relief he gave could probably have been heard throughout the cell.

He stepped out of his cell, giving a quick tug on the taut length of sheet still wrapped up in his hands. A glance down the hallway revealed the first contender, and by the sound of it, there were more on the way. Bat slid his way through the band, towards the back. It wasn't exactly cowardice so much as not wanting to get in the way of the others, he was a sniper, not a cutter.

"I'll let you handle this bunch, not really much use without my stuff... besides the hallway is so cluttered already and I hate to be a bother." He excused himself rapidly.
[member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="James Justice"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
The beast's transformation was...interesting to say the least. It resembled some sort of demon now, like a giant cat from the worst version of whatever afterlife you believed in. His plan had been to pick the lock in each cell, but the giant cat thing had taken care of it for him. He watched it cautiously as it tore its cell door almost off its hinges. The squealing of the wrenched metal would probably bring every hostile on the planet. His way had been more subtle. Less theatrical and entertaining, but probably more effective.

Still, it was interesting watching the monster dispatch of each of their doors in turn. He didn't bother to move when the beast ripped the door to his cell off. Instead, he slipped past it, into the corridor with the spacer and his former cellmate. He could see the first Gamorrean coming down the hall, its vibro-ax clutched tightly in its piggy hands. He'd seen a couple at the B'omarr monastery, and knew they weren't the brightest of creatures. He readied his chicken foot, letting his cellmate fall in behind him.

By the way they carried themselves, he could tell that the spacer and his gray friend were probably more accustomed to blasters than any sort of close-quarters combat. The cat on the other hand would be very comfortable up close and personal. He had to admire the beast; it was effective without some sort of technology. Despite his time away from the monastery, he still looked down on technology as a whole. In a similar way, he admired the Gamorrean's dedication to their axes. He'd almost perfected the use of a halberd, which wasn't that different from a vibro-ax.

"When we take him out, let me use his ax. I know you two probably some sort of real weapon, but I can guarantee that I can use it better than all of you," he said. He didn't want to brag about his skill; he just wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be some mad scuffle for the first available weapon. He could still use the chicken foot, but he preferred the range and, well, weapon-ness of the ax.

[member="Bat"] [member="Ryn'Dhal"] [member="James Justice"]
 
James watched as his now monster of a friend ripped the doors off the prison cell. Making a note not to tick him off in the near future, the spacer slipped by into a nearby cove in the wall. Well, that was something he didn't see everyday, that was for sure. Even not most days, he added in his mind slightly playfully.

As the Gamorrean came closer James felt his lungs protesting. They wanted smoke feth it and they refused to obey fully until they got it. He wheezed slightly and pressed his free hand's fingers to his temples. He had to focus hard if they were going to make it out of here alive--let alone in one piece.

As the stout enemy's footsteps got closer he timed it before jumping out taunting, "Oi, laddy, bring me ye--"

The piggy creature made a wild swing with his vibro ax at the cheeky fellow, James stumbled back against the wall as the blade nicked the fringes of his jacket. That was close. Way too close. Before the guard could pull his ax back to swing again, James propelled himself forward, punching his dagger hand deep into the Gamorean's snout. A stream of filthy smelling blood gushed onto James' fist with a string of expletives the spacer was vaguely familiar with--their native language of snorts and squeals made him less proficient at it than most he knew.

Dropping its ax, the Gamorean grabbed the near-human's body and bullrushed him into the wall. Breathless, James grabbed the pig-like head and drove his foot into the small creature's groin, a tactic that he knew worked on most every species. As it doubled over in agony James delivered the fatal stab to the foe's windpipe.

He had to be more careful, that was for sure.

[member="Bat"]
[member="Kratos Bandua"]
[member="Ryn'Dhal"]
 
The first Gamorean went down in a smelly mess. The next two came charging down the corridor, axes held aloft menacingly. Ryn'Dhal's powerful body compressing for the pounce, every muscle cording tightly. As soon as the first one of the new duo came into the felines view, he launched forth. The speed of the rush, his weight, and the angle of approach as he darted PAST the first Gamorean, would throw the large pig-humanoid off-balance. Having done so, the feline launched up, slamming into the second Gamorean.

The squeals of the Gamorean were unable to be translated by the feline. But, the smell of the creatures bladder relieving itself, was all the translation the predator needed. This was prey. Prey that wanted to pretend to be predator. Pretend. It was time to correct those thoughts. The vibroaxe in the pinned Gamorean's hands flailed about and skipped off one of those large spines on Ryn'Dhal's back. This elicited a snarl from the large monster. The pig-man was not about to receive an opportunity to plunge that blade into the soft tissue of Ryn'Dhal's side. The next moment would find the pig's face crushed and mostly removed in a lightening quick strike from the predator. One bite, one kill.

By this time, one of the others would have likely downed the remaining Gamorean on this level. Ryn'Dhal looked back, massive maw coated in Gamorean blood. A dramatic huff given. By the Force they tasted HORRIBLE!

[member=Bat] | [member="James Justice"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
Bat watched in mild horror as the brawl began. James Justice had stabbed the first pig in the snout and the stench was quickly becoming unbearable in the area. That part didn't bother him nearly as much as watching the monstrous cat ravage the other pig. He wasn't used to this sort of carnage and ferocity, especially among sentient beings.

It would have been far different if the monster wasn't really a person, but it was, and Bat couldn't quite understand how it could justify the painful death. Bat had no problem with the actual act, but even he wasn't a fan of the brutish methods that were used by so many in the galaxy. He still saw people as living beings, a side effect of not having been at his new work for very long.

He desperately wished he had one of his blasters, as it was, he felt uncomfortable being around this inhuman abomination without them. If a being could show such a lack of restraint, what was to say that it wouldn't turn and maul them all once the guards were all done for. "Good work pals, keep it up." He steeled his voice, offering the compliment as his hand pulled nervously at his back where his blasters would normally sit.

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] | [member="James Justice"] | [member="Kratos Bandua"]
 
Well, this was certainly turning out much easier than expected. The cowboy and the cat had already taken out the first group of guards, leaving the brutally mutilated bodies behind them. As he'd promised, Kratos picked up the nearest Gamorrean's axe, prying it carefully away from the now clammy hands. As a sign of respect, he put his hand over its face and closed its eyes. After all, it had only been doing its job. He had no time to reflect upon its death as the thunderous sound of the next batch of guards approached. Quickly, he snatched the keys from the dead guards, an idea forming in his mind.

"If we can, try to gather as many keys as possible. There are probably countless other prisoners like us; trapped indefinitely for no reason," he said, clipping the keys onto his belt as fast as he could. Up ahead, he could see the next wave of Gamorreans approaching, at least half a dozen. He drew the ax backwards, getting ready to leap into the group. He would try to disarm them if possible, but he doubted it would be that easy.

[member="Ryn'Dhal"] @Bat @James Justice
 

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