Public Golden Fleece - [Open to Pirates, Mercenaries, and Bounty Hunters]

[Rika Hassan]

This was a turn of events, and the little creature masquerading as a human suddenly felt a sort of emotion she'd yet to feel in a long time. Excitement. She watched it unfold. From the blaster hitting their contact and knocking him back to him getting up entirely. Rika wasn't too impressed, then again it was hard to impress a thousand-year-old lifeform. What she did however was move backward, putting space between her and the others in that room. Her hand slipped into the fabric that wrapped around her waist, yet she never pulls out just what she touches.

In reality, the massive man seemed to have that one covered, and with a strange robotic grace, her odd amber eyes snapped to the newcomer with an eerie quickness. "Well isn't this just a mess." She spoke under her breath. It might be easier to just walk out of here than actually engage, but curiosity and the Shard were fast friends after all, and well, a question was posed and she wasn't going to throw anyone through a wall... yet.

 

[Calixte Diantha]

Allies: | Isran Varad | Safira Varad | Vren Rook | Saram Kote | Aselia Verd | Haastal Haran | The Quartermaster |
Target: Everyone Standing In the Way

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How long had it been since Claixte had dawned her armor? Admittedly, she couldn't recall, and that was most certainly a sad state. She had been off the scene for so long, off doing things for other people, and being left to her own devices - and ultimately on her own when all was said and done. But no more; the redheaded vixen was tired of being second string, tired of running for the sake of other people day in and day out. So she had left and has since been trying to get her life back into some sort of order.

What better way than to seek out old allies and find out what they were up to? And what they were up to? Well, how could Cali say no to that, hm?

Her armor was still a second skin, still comfortable and would keep her plenty protected when the time came for it - and it would. Like the others, Cali had sat in a chair, propped one leg up on a table and the other remained flat footed against the floor in case she needed to get up quickly. She had watched the exchange, her HUD processing and keeping track of the conversations while the redhead took the time to recognize at least one person on the opposing side of the line. Oh if only the smirk on her face could be seen right about now.

Even when the blaster fire rained, and all hell began to break loose, Calixte took the time to get up rather than scramble to her feet. "Deryn!" she called out as if to an old friend, though that was hardly the case, especially in these circumstances. But oh yes, she remembered the behemoth Deryn Kaaldos from the Casino. "You know it's rude to just charge by, tackle people, and not take the time to say hello to people you know!" A chair was then quite literally kicked up from the floor and then fired across the room with sharp accuracy via a well placed Force blast. That, coupled with whatever the hell Isran had just done might be enough to give her comrade room to breathe if only for a moment - Maybe.

 

[Aselia Verd]

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Wearing: Beskar'gam​

ALLIES: Vren Rook , Safira Varad, Saram Kote , Siv Dragr , Haastal Haran Hinah Dragr Isran Varad​

TARGET: Njal The Black​

SECONDARY TARGETS: Declan Dex , Radon Krayt , Deryn Kaaldos , Rika Hassan , 5-WCH (Switchblade)​

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The chaos of the bar would be added to in short order, by the high pitched sound splitting the air, half a breath later one of the walls exploded out into the room with tremendous force sending debris and fire in all directions, as the smoke began to clear a lone figure could be made out through the rapidly thinning smoke screen as the remains of the wall continued to burn the figure clad in black and red beskar stepped over the ruins of the wall and walked through the flames, tapping a button on her gauntlet she opened a comm channel. "Hey Vod found the nest bring the heat, I'll try to save some for you, but be advised i wont be trying hard Saram Kote " she leveled one of her trusty Balmorran Rail Pistol at Deryn Kaaldos unleashing a hail of shots at him.​

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As she continued into the bar, her lightsaber flew into her right hand and ignited a vibrant purple blade bursting to life and contrasting sharply to the smokescreen enveloping her, her hud coming alive and tracking all hostile targets in the area, likewise she stretched our her senses through the force and prepared to unleash absolute hell, the two shoulder mount launchers in her armor deployed and began lining up targets throughout the room.​

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"I highly suggest that any of you who do not wish to die, drop your weapons NOW"​

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As she spoke two SD Series Mark XI Battle Droids stepped through the breach and began to acquire targets yet not opening fire just yet​

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[Siv Dragr]

K A R J R​

Marshal Tag: Isran Varad | Vren Rook | Aselia Verd | Calixte Diantha
Hunter Tag: Njal The Black | Declan Dex | Radon Krayt | Deryn Kaaldos | Adi'ka Awaud | Rika Hassan | 5-WCH (Switchblade)
Word Count: 1,659

"When one chooses to walk the Way of Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?"

Siv's hands rested lightly on the controls of the Blood Eclipse, his personal gunship, as it rocketed through space. He could feel the hum of its dual engines as the ship's inertial damper strained to smooth out the gravitational pressure and forces being exerted on the ship. Apart from the hum of the engine and other noises of the ship, it was perfectly quiet. Siv set perfectly still, and with his face covered by his Mandalorian helmet, he appeared completely emotionless.

Since before the Enclave -- since before the Sith had even rained fire on Mandalore -- Siv had walked the Way of the Mandalore, the old, ancient, and honorable Way that had still been practiced by Clan. The one of a mercenary, the one of the hunter. It had been what had made Clan Dragr so unique from the rest of the Clans, for while they shed blood against each other and against enemies made across the galaxy, Clan Dragr chose not to fight. Most honored this decision; Clan Dragr was an old Clan, and despite its small size, it had a certain degree of honor and respect with the other elders and leaders of the Mando'ade. Others though, bitter for the lack of support, labeled the clan as Dar'manda.

But while the other Clans had shed their blood and sent their warriors to die in meaningless crusades, Clan Dragr had remained stable, strong, and honorable. They had even amassed a small fortune for their service across the galaxy, whether it had been earned as a hired mercenary or a successful career of a Bounty Hunter.

Siv had been the latest to this tradition of r, and as soon as he had passed his Verd'gotten, he'd been given a Clan ship -- the Blood Eclipse -- and sent into the cosmos to win himself his own fortune, fame, and honor as a Bounty Hunter. And that he had won -- he had traveled across the galaxy, hunting and collecting on targets of infamy and skill. He'd even collected on the Silver Jedi Grandmaster, or maybe it had been the former one? It had paid a hefty sum, enough for him to make some direly-needed repairs and upgrades to his ship.

But when he had discovered the Enclave? That life of a bounty hunter had gone to the wayside. After the near extermination of his Clan by the Sith, not to mention the desecration of Mandalore itself, he felt that he owed his blaster to a higher cause. And thus, he abandoned his life as a hunter to become a warrior of the Mando'ade and the Enclave.

That had been the case, but only until the role of Karjr had been created. Now Siv was once more a Hunter, except now the profits he made went towards the Enclave instead of him directly. It wasn't like he wasn't compensated for it -- the shiny blaster that hung at his hip, a rare model of Mandalorian make, was a testament to the fact that the Enclave and it's Quartermaster rewarded good service. He was carrying out his familiar role as a Bounty Hunter, but with a higher purpose behind it. And it was good work, too.

The Blood Eclipse descended down the Gravity Well of the Outer Rim planet, touching down on the planet that his contact had said should be the one. As soon as word through the Underground had spread of a potential cash grab, with the only details being some sorta run against the Confederacy, Siv had launched himself as it as part of a Sting operation. One didn't survive as a Marshal of the Underworld while being stupid, and Siv had planned to enter this meeting with the intent to negotiate; whether that negotiation happened with his blaster or his voice was a contingency he hadn't decided on yet.

His beskar'gam clinked silently as he walked through the streets of the derelict town. It was shabby, and pretty much the pitch-perfect definition of a chit-hole if there ever was one. His cloak trailed behind him, and with his Mandalorian helmet, an aura of menace radiated from the Karjr. A hand rested on his blaster pistol, the other was free but not unprepared. It was in the belly of the underworld that one always had to expect danger, from all corners, and all types of beings. Siv especially had to be wary; his beskar armor, he knew, would sell for a pretty price on the black market, and there were enough fools in the Outer Rim and underworld who fancied a chance at the Mandalorian to try and peel his 'pretty shell' from his corpse.

As he walked, the image of an Abyssian leering at him from an alleyway with a vibroknife in hand peered out of the corner of his eye. Siv turned, to fully look at the Abyssian as if to silently ask the Abyssian if they were really ready to throw away its life for the non-existent chance of a fortune. The Abyssian seemed to take the message and reluctantly slid off into the dark recesses of the alleyway from whence he had come. Siv gave a small shrug, not slowing or stopping as he made his way to the tavern that his contact had said to meet.

Finally, he arrived, the blast door sliding open to admit him entry. From the noise he'd heard from the outside, he could guess that the meeting was underway. "Sorry I'm late --" be began to say, before suddenly a barstool flung at his head. Instinctively Siv ducked, letting the wooden stool crash against the now-closed blast door. What he had assumed was a meeting had been actually a full-out tavern brawl, and patrons were shooting blasters, sticking knives into others, or throwing whatever they could find. The one who had thrown the barstool had been a big, beefy Ithorian, who was now picking up another barstool. But Siv was quicker, whipping out his pistol and sending an expertly-placed bolt at the Ithorian's knee, sending him down and injured, but not dead.

Diving behind the counter for cover, he found what he assumed to be the bartender cowering there as well, a scrawny Weequay whose clothes hung loose on the alien's tight frame. Surprised by Siv's sudden entry, he instinctively moved away, but a blaster bolt grazed the counter on the other side, making the bartender cringe and move back, taking his chance with the Mandalorian. "Weequay," he shouted over the commotion, "Any idea what is going on here?" Siv nonchalantly asked.

The Weequay gulped before answering, causing Siv to guess that he must be new to this whole scene. "Fight broke out upstairs," he said in broken Basic, nodding his head towards the ceiling above them. "Once it gets started, it don't stop until everyone's dead or someone's won."

Siv nodded. Pretty typical for a place like this. Before he stood up, he fished into his pocket for some change and tossed a couple of credits towards the Weequay bartender, who caught them awkwardly in his lap. "Sorry for the mess," Siv said by means of explanation before he quickly vaulted over the counter in a single fluid motion. His blaster was up, and quick successive shots were sent towards three humans that were shooting their own pistols at other patrons. His entrance into the fight was barely noticed in the all-out brawl that was taking place, but Siv was fine with that. His goal was to get upstairs, and so as the human bodies fell to the ground he leaped past them, dashing up the stairs, his blaster still drawn.

He turned the corner over the small, debilitated railing to launch himself through an open door on the second floor, illuminated by the flashing red of what Siv rightly assumed to be blaster bolts. As he entered, two insectoid looking battle droids spun to look at him and Siv didn't waste a second thought, jumping and grabbing the first's wide neck with his arm and pressing his blaster against its head before squeezing the trigger and sending a bolt through its circuits. The droid toppled, and Siv used gravity and the droid's mass to flip the droid's corpse over his back and throw it against the droid's counterpart, send the two crashing onto each other. Standing, he sent two more blaster bolts into the mess of droids before satisfied that they wouldn't be any more of a threat.

He turned, his blaster still raised, and saw the reason for all the fighting. It looked like he hadn't been the first Karjr to make it here, although he hadn't been the least tactful, either. It was a full-on chit show and one that Siv didn't have the energy to fully commit himself to fight in. At least, not before giving them a chance to surrender.

He raised his pistol, sending one, two, three bright-red bolts into the ceiling above, calling for the attention of the brawling gangsters and Mandalorians before leveling the blaster.

"This stops now," he commanded coldly, his pistol aimed squarely, unwavering at the massive man in a tattered cloak of furs. "You who aim to carry out with this plan of terrorism against the Confederacy have the option of surrendering peacefully or getting a blaster bolt through your head. Those of who you are here, but shouldn't be," he said, a pointed look to the Krayt that he'd fought alongside with on Tatooine, "leave and it will be forgotten."

His blaster remained leveled at the man's chest, but his left hand subconsciously tightened, prepared for what seemed to be an inevitable continuation of the brawl.

[] Theme []
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[Declan Dex]

When the blaster was leveled at his head Declan knew that this was definitely not the job he’d been led to believe. And decided, it wasn’t worth the trouble of having bounty hunters following him constantly and interfering in his goal of a fur-trading empire of men and women free from reprisal and government interference. So he decided to just drop the datapad, which he probably didn’t know how to use anyway, and turned to leave, not showing aggression to anyone.

“Not worth the trouble,” Declan said as he approached the door.

 

[Alejandro Vizcaya]

Location: Super Brawl
Allies: Pirates!
Enemies: The Confederacy

A pirate crew with letters of privateers? Any pirate worth His salt would be here unless He was stupid or drunk. Alejandro was both and was still here, while the entire world seemed to go to hell and a hand basket the flamboyant dread pirate Viscaya just kept drinking. So far nothing but a few stray blaster bolts here and there but he shot back and kept drinking like a normal man, in a shootout, as one does.

Droid, a lady burst through a window, barbarians and apparently many Mandalorians. One lady had a purple lightsaber like him! These were the people he clearly liked and there was these Confederacy people here who did not like his new friends! Unacceptable, but he could forgive it, after all he just met these Confederacy folk and they hadn't dont anythi-

Siv Dragr shot upwards, his bolts singing upwards and a single one shattered the large glass of Ale that the patron man with the many tattoos had brought from a far away land.

Rude, loud and now attacking his new friends and the booze! These confederates had to be stopped and only the Legendary Dread Pirate Viscaya could do it.

"Ok, now you've done it. First you interrupt this friendly meeting of co-workers and now you shoot my drink"

Alejandro dropped a thermal detonator through the hole that Siv created by shooting his beautiful ale, brought from a faraway land. What a waste of good scotch, but a very good response, The response was explosive.

The flamboyant pirate turned around and His purple and white cape, embroidered with fancy designs waved around him. His cap was a stained and shining blue with a large feather tip, on his waist a massive rapier made of some chrome material. Around his neck were jewles, gold, silver and crystals gathered from around the galaxy.

He extended his hand and his rapier shot out like a pressurized air cannon, the force seeking to impale the battle druids and going through the door. The last sight the less courageous Declan Dex would see would be a large sword going through the door He just decided not to open.

His pistols came to his hands, a flurry of movement before he pointed both of them at the ferry fine looking lass Aselia Verd .

"How about no?"

Boom.​

 

[Njal The Black]

The first shot came from the Mandalorian Vren Rook , only stopped by Njal bringing up his naked forearm to take the blast. It hit with a meaty slap and the man let out a teeth grinding grunt as he looked at it - only to bring his gun back up in return. Yet, as the shot was about to make contact, his gun’s trigger locked up; and even his cybernetics chugged for a half second before restarting. He was going to toss the weapon at the Mandalorian and charge him, but just as he began to swear one of many expletives a round slapped through his open mouth and tore out his cheek.​

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Even a few teeth went with it, forcing the giant to spit out blood for a few seconds. Not that he could feel it with the amount of drugs going through him, but there was no doube he would be talking funny for at least the next few hours.​

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Then like clockwork, another five hunters tried entering the room. Either he really made a strong impact on the psyche of the Confederacy, or their intelligence service was alot stronger than he thought. More than likely the former, but he’d give it greater thought in a moment. For now, his attention was fixed on the arrival of yet another Verd, more specifically Aselia Verd , and Siv Dragr .​

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At this point, Njal was getting slightly offended. If they were really going to be enacting some extrajudicial justice, the least they could have done was brought someone he would recognize. Soloman Priest , Julian Valentine , or even Koda Fett - for what the last one was even worth. He spit blood on the floor as he raised his hands slowly.​

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“You heard him, kids. Leave and lose your paychecks.”, he said through sloppy words tarnished by the massive wound in his face.​

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Yet at least one person decided to stay - the miraculous arrival of Alejandro Vizcaya . Njal didn’t necessarily have faith he would manage to stop the Verd before him, but a distraction was a distraction, and he liked the man’s gall. As more of his electronics came back online, he pressed a finger to his palm, and an unheard encoded SOS signal began to piggyback on advertisement signals running through Barbatos.​

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‘Human’ as he was known, had already heard about the exchange. The hotter the job meant more the pay, and he would no doubt request a raise from their benefactor. For now, however, gangs across the city began to fly towards the cantina they were at, and in a matter of minutes would overrun the Mandalorians with guerilla arms and shock boxing champions.​

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With a wide grin and a mocking slur of a tone, Njal spoke to the others -​

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“I surrender!”, he said with as little of charm as possible.​

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“... Come cuff me, officer.”​

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But his foot was already hovering on a small mechanical switch that led to explosives planted on the bottom of the table. Before anyone could move, his arms moved to cover his eyes and the room was rocked with the shockwave of a baradium charge strong enough to kill the average person. It wasn’t a friendly action, and even his compatriots would be caught in the blast, but it would at least hurt the enemy just as much.​

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For Njal, he found himself thrown through the wall behind him - finding yet another wound in a large gash in his back from a metal stud he had managed to blast through. Groaning, he stood, coughing from the dust, and pulling one of his axes from his sheath - if they wanted to collect on him, he’d at least take two down with him.​

 

[Declan Dex]

Declan’s fur cloak was pinned to the door, the massive size of the clothing it was hard to know where to throw to do damage the man pulled out unharmed and now looked at the pirate with fury in his eyes. With his cloak gone, he was revealed to be wearing a pair of antler-handled clip-point knives, a pair of hatchets on his belt, and his powerful Black Wolf Blaster Pistol.

“You lot,” Declan said to the Confederates, “I have no quarrel with you. I now have a quarrel with him though,” he pointed at the man who’d thrown the sword as the explosion rocked the room and he too was thrown through the door and flopped onto the ground, “Nevermind...” he groaned as lay on his back and decided that it was time to leave.

Declan stumbled to his feet, and decided to head back to the ship he’d chartered to get here. He left the bar, not showing aggression to anyone else to avoid a fight with anyone else.

 

[Rika Hassan]

Her back was already against a wall, doing her best to blend in. Despite the loudness, the madness, the violence all around her she was calm. Almost unbothered by the entire situation. Her hand pushed aside the fabric around her waist, a brief glimpse of a tarnished handle wrapped in worn leather. Her own saber she'd only draw if she really had to, and frankly, in this instance, she didn't. It seems they were after the large man in question who asked them all here.

What worth was a mission when the man giving the orders was dead or detained? She wondered. What point was there to a situation like this when those you were told to kill were here on your front door blowing holes in walls to get in? There was no order here, no logistical pieces she could put together that would make for an advantageous moment. One thing the Shard knew, one thing she said in this room: Pick your battles.

So far she wasn't being pointed out, she wasn't facing the barrel of a blaster or the hum of a saber. She had enough honor to acknowledge when to walk away. That was before the explosion. Call it a lesson in humanity. For this little mineral living in a robot, she needed one. The explosion Njal triggers were enough to rock the body she was housed in, enough to tear synthetic flesh from her left arm and side, and yet, she didn't register that it hurt, but she knew it did. Picking herself up off the floor, she was far from dazed in any human sense of the word. Her expression was an annoyance, anger. Twisting into her mouth and never reaching her eyes.

"Kill him or I will." All spoken through a clenched jaw as she drew her saber.

 

[Saram Kote]

​

Jehavey'ir​

Ally Tag(s): Isran Varad | Vren Rook | Safira Varad | Siv Dragr | Aselia Verd | Haastal Haran | Hinah Dragr ​

Immediate Friendly Forces: 3 members of Vuhyr'yalilyr squad Davaab​

Target: As opportunity presents itself.​

Enemy Tag(s): Declan Dex | Radon Krayt | Deryn Kaaldos | Adi'ka Awaud | Rika Hassan | 5-WCH (Switchblade) ​

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Spoiler: Equipment

• Armor:
  • 'Vuhyr'yalilyr'gam'
    • Taozin Amulet
    • Vambrace Weapons:
      • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
      • PC-05V Plasma Caster
        • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
      • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
        • Electro Darts (2) (2 spare)
        • Explosive Darts (4)
        • Surveillance Tagger Darts (2) (2 spare)
      • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
• Implant(s):
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  • AR-2CQB Verpine Assault Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
  • BR-6B Verpine Shatter Battle Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-100x Long Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • Det-Packs (2)
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Concussion Grenade (2)
  • NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (2)

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The CIS had no shortage of enemies, that was something that Saram had learned when Breshig War Forge Consolidated and Strill Securities had signed on with the CIS. She'd killed a few of them. It seemed that those that sought to harm the CIS were trying something a lot more...traditional. It was a practice as old as time to hire someone to do what one could not. Saram didn't despise such people. Without them, she'd be out of a job. She bore no real hatred for those present, she knew that it was just that, a job. It was, however, one of the most di'kutla mistakes that she'd ever witnessed someone in her trade make. ​

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Tactical support. She and and half of Davaab held back for now till the signal to support came. If they were going to be perfectly reasonable di'kute, after all, what was the point in everyone waltzing in there at once? No, that was sloppy. Unprofessional. So she waited. She bided her time. She, Rusana, Vikhar and Anila were all perfectly blending in to their surroundings thanks to their armor's optical camouflage system, aided by the fact that they were stood perfectly still. ​

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"Still can't understand who'd be di'kutla or dini'la enough to take on the shabla Confederacy if they didn't absolutely have to." sighed Rusana. "Then there's the New Imperial Order, the Silver shabla Jetii, the dar'jetii shabuire themselves...it's the like the who's who of who to piss off if you want to cut your life short." Rusana was right, whoever was employing these people obviously wasn't worried about retribution, or they held the vain hope that their identity would never come to light. ​

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"Try desperate, vod," replied Vikhar, over their short ranged las coms. "Desperate to make a name, desperate for credits, desperation makes people do di'kutla things." Vikhar was right. Desperation drove the galaxy into some of its worst conflicts. If the rumors were right, it was desperation that drove Mand'alor the Infernal to make an alliance with the Sith. Saram didn't care what her reasons were, and she didn't really care what these di'kute's reasons were. Their mistake had consequences, and today, she was part of that consequence. ​

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"Desperate, di'kutla, dini'la, they all die the same," replied Anila. "At least the rules of engagement are simple enough. Kill every shabuire that resists." It was one thing she had to give the Karjr credit for. They sure as haran knew what they were doing. Most of the time, anyway. The rules of engagement were a strong indicator of that today. ​

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A transmission on the on a commonly used Mandalorian frequency interrupted Anila. The voice on the other end of the transmission spoke in Mando'a, asking anyone receiving to accept their help. Saram resisted the urge to snort. The days when Mandalorians had any pretense of a common cause was long dead. The damage done would take generations to repair before any Mandalorian implicitly trusted another without having a very good reason to other than both following the Resol'nare. Then there were those who claimed to be Mando'ade, and yet were so far removed from the Resol'nare that they may as well have been actual shabla hardline jetii. ​

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Aselia's voice crackled in through Saram's helmet, and a smile flickered across her face, "Don't you worry about leaving any for us, vod, worry about us leaving any for you when we get there!" She then switched frequencies back to the squad shared comms frequency, "Alright Davaab, that's our cue! Oya shabla manda, vode!" A chorus of 'oya' answered her, and with that, the four rammikade moved out, silent as their unit's namesake. Thankfully, they didn't need to look for an egress, it appeared that there were plenty of ways in made by those that came before them.​

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As luck would have it, they had entered through the hole that Aselia Verd had come in through, and so they were right behind her. "Fan out, shoot any shabuire that's not one of us who's got a weapon in their hands. I'll see if I can lend Ase'ika a hand." Knowing her squad would do as she asked of them, she snapped up BR-6, flicked the rifle's fire selector to its two-round burst setting and let her training, almost a decade and a half of experience and the suite of advanced targeting systems in her HUD guide her aim before she squeezed the trigger twice. The rifle accelerated a quartet of SLAP rounds at Alejandro Vizcaya with an almost imperceptible cough, impossible to hear with the symphony of battle in full swing around them. Her optical camouflage flickered only ever so slightly in protest at having to deal with what was going on around her.​

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"Private party, vod?" she asked Aselia Verd over the comms, keeping her rifle trained on Alejandro Vizcaya as she scanned the room for other targets of opportunity, her implant enhanced body allowing her to process the information gathered by her armor's systems at a remarkable rate. Her armor's command variant Manda tactical battlenet informed her as both Anila and Vikhar disabled their active camouflage and put a series of short-controlled bursts at Deryn Kaaldos with their PBHR-01 Particle Beam Heavy Repeater, and PPC-01 Phased Pulse Cannon respectively. Rusana's camouflage stayed on as she also fired at the Gen'dai with her BR-6B Verpine Shatter Battle Rifle, her armor's HUD systems indicating that she was also firing SLAP rounds. ​

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[Xun of Throne]

Smoke filled the room coupled with the sounds of struggle and screaming. A pair of panicked patrons fled for the nearest exit, only to find their way blocked by a massive figure.

“Oh stang it’s a Houk,” squeaked the Squib.

“Maybe he - is that a cannon instead of an arm?” croaked the Squib’s terrapin companion, right before the Houk answered the question by blowing a hole in the ceiling with his arm-cannon, sending the pair scurrying away.

“What the kark is goin on here?” roared Captain Gunfist. Behind him were a half dozen or more of his crew members, at least those who survived the slaughter at Sakedo Tower.

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Adi'ka, very light weighted and already floating with her rocket boots on, was caught by surprise AND the blast of the baradium. The shockwave catapulted the small Mandalorian Lepi trough the room. Her armor and round target energy shields saved her life as she rolled herself into a ball. Still she crashed hard in the wall, breaking trough it and landed on the floor in a rain of debris and splinters.

As she stood up she activated all her armors weapons and draw a heavy pistols and a stubnosed light repeater. She was injured and her bad temper was boiling. "You backstabbing aruetii!", she shouted.

She searched the Mandalorian hunters of the Confederacy and yelled in their direction: "Truce is broken! I am with you, vode! Let´s roast the sheb of this treacherous hut'uun!"

Not waiting for an answer she unleashed hell out of a dozen different weapons in the direction of Njall the Black.

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

"You!" Deryn exclaimed upon the sight of Calixthe. What a coincidence to see her here! Small galaxy huh? Unfortunately, they seemed to have met in rather twisted circumstances. He pulled himself casually from the large indent in the wall he had made just as the chair that was thrown hit him, harmlessly breaking over his head with little to no damage. And as newer and newer entries came and had their shot at him, he would remain rather still, as if noticing only Calixthe. "You...." Who was she again? Where did he meet her? "You... uhhh..." He forgot her name completely. All he knew was that they met before.

"You.... are from the casino!" He figured that part out, but didn't want to blurt it out like that. "You'r uhhh.... you're| From the depths of his mind, he attempted to conjure her name from the vast memory that was gifted to him by his race. Nothing. Was his brain already starting to deteriorate? "P... Palm, was it?" Wrong girl but it was the closest he could get. "Are you the married one?" They never even said if they were married or not.

"Can you uhhh.... Tell your friends to stop shooting at me?" He said as he activated his MP-1 Personal Absorption Shield. The Balmorran Railgun from Aselia Verd that came before its activation did little to nothing, the energy of the slug being diffused by his coat before being fully nulled by his armor. "Why is it that they give me a chance to surrender AFTER they shoot me. Isn't that kind of backwards?" His tone was light-hearted in spite of the growing tensity in the situation. However, when his shield was finally going down from pressure, he deactivated it. "Now I'm not a of paragon of justice, but even busts aren't shoot first, ask questions later."

"Now, I understand that I-" Njal The Black came as a surprise. That was the only damage so far that actually shook him. Of course, he was ultimately uninjured still in his armor, and any internal injury was regenerated almost instantly. However, he didn't take kindly to the interruption, nor the reversal. He stopped Isran from killing him, if all just for the money, but it seems like this little womprat was willing to slaughter his own employ just to save his hide. "Let's put a pin on this, shall we?" With that, he disappeared into the smoke like a shadow of a horseman through the night. The hail of fire by Saram Kote would find themselves shooting through smoke, incapable of catching up to the inhuman speed of Deryn, and those that did could not damage him enough individually to do any real noticeable damage. He was a speeding brick, ultimately, one that was turning to their side, fortunately.

As Njal recollected himself from his own explosion, the piercing red glow of Deryn's eyes would pierce through the surrounding smoke, moving towards him like a flash of lightning in the cloud. When he would get up on his arse, Deryn would attempt to pin him back down to the ground with his foot, applying his inhuman strength, and ludicrous weight on his chest. "Not a very good business man, are you?"

​

 

[Njal The Black]

How ironic.​

​

The mercenaries tried to betray Njal after he set off a bomb to even the odds. Admidst the dust, he held in his own coughs - moving to slam the base of his axe through a transparisteel window. It shattered after a few well placed hits in the corner, but he didn’t make it quite in time before shots rang through the hole in the wall he had only recently come through. Lucky for him, a dozen guns shot into a cloud of dust weren’t usually accurate - so he narrowly avoided getting hit once more.​

​

Wounds he had suffered so far began to slowly heal - as per his Firrerreo DNA; but that wouldn’t save him if the next menacing fool to walk through that door got his hands on him. The massive figure moved to grab him, but Njal slipped back just in time - only to press a small button on his hip. A swarm of non lethal, phrik made nanobots swarmed from him and moved to surround the Gen’dai. They were quick in their short-range, and dangerous in that they would magnetically lock to the Gen’dais armor before deactivating, slowly building on eachother until the swarm would cocoon him in an intertwining mess of phrik that was nigh impenetrable. It became a situation of run, or be turned into a temporary phrik statue.​

​

Generally, the tool was used solely by high profile bounty hunters - but Njal managed to get one off of another man who came after him, and it was often the best way to disable unruly Gen’dai, or the forlorn Sith. As the wound on his face became more a disgusting mess of flesh and his teeth grew back, he spoke slightly more clearly than he had before -​

​

“Don’t shoot the messenger, kid. My life matters more to me than yours does - but credits are credits. Do your job and get paid, stop acting like we’re friends - ‘cause we ain’t.”, he said, marked with a loogey en massed with coagulated blood.​

​

With that, he climbed through what remained of the window and fell two stories into a pile of garbage a homeless man had been using for a bed only a moment before. Njal groaned as he stood, crowds of people watching him bleed on their street while others began to make there way as far from the shoot out as they could.​

​

Slowly, the farther Njal got away, the Phrik nanobots would release - and return to their home on his belt. Deryn could follow their trail, but another issue began to arise as more than a few gang vehicles rolled up to the cantina. Loud calls from outside the bar in numerous languages began to echo as teams began to search the premise for stray Mandalorians and operators alike.​

​

---​

​

Human, as he had been known, was a member of the triad; the leading governing body on Barbatos besides the Sith. He popped a small pill of unknown make into his mouth as he watched the twenty holo screens before him - different angles of the bar all appearing before him simultaneously. His gaze at present was watching Njal run through the streets.​

​

“Coward.”, he echo’ed to himself with dismay.​

​

Though perhaps he had a point. The man was known for brutality, not suicide missions - and definitely not up against a group of Mandalorians who found more kinship in Confederate agents than fellow mercenaries. Human sucked at his teeth for a moment before sighing -​

​

“Tell her the bounty has to be raised. Confederates are already onto the game.”, he said to a nearby robot. An assassin droid as they were, who simply nodded and began to wander away.​

​

Deryn Kaaldos │ Adi'ka Awaud │ Xun of Throne │ Saram Kote │ Rika Hassan │ Declan Dex │ Isran Varad​

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

"I have a feeling I'll get paid either way." He had more than a subtle feeling that there'd be money in bringing him in. Maybe it wouldn't be as fun as going across the Silver Jedi Order, capturing Jedi and taking their sabers to satisfy two bounties at once and doubling his the money he'd made. Hell, it certainly wouldn't be as lucrative. But honestly, after his rather extremist way of escaping, he realized that his Monster of The Outer Rim had a real bad business model, and there's only one kind of business he does with men like him.

Upon the activation of his swarm, Deryn activated something himself. Taking out an implosion grenade, he hurled it through the swarm and activated it through the interlink, causing a bass-dropping sound to occur as air was suddenly pulled in and compressed into a miniature atmosphere, the same force pulling the swarm of Nanobots around the implosion grenade, keeping them away from him and perhaps even catching Njal in it's grasp as he tried to flee out the window. With a clang, the grenade finally landed on the wall near the window, now covered in struggling nanobots that were stuck to it. Many of the other people in the room would feel the sudden violent pull of the implosion grenade, but will not be pulled off their feet as they were out of range. Deryn and Njal, however, were perfectly in range, but Deryn was strong and heavy enough to resist the immediate pull.

However, if Njal was able to evade his counter, he would have to keep up his pursuit. Dashing forth, he would leap out the same window Njal would go through less than ago. He took out his Light Repeater as he dashed out, shooting at Njal with a rapid burst of of energy blasts, taking advantage of him not being able to move around while he was falling through the air. However, Deryn himself would realize a fault in his actions - where was he going to land?

The hovertruck hit him like, well, a truck. Not seeing his descent, the driver did not slow down and ended up hitting Deryn at full speed as he followed after Njal. The large indent on the hood would be left as a remnant of him as the truck started to swerve through the air, luckily not hitting anything else. Deryn was less lucky. He hit a lampost on his way down, skidding on the floor before stopping into a crouched position in front of Njal - still ready to give chase. Overall, the damage was internal, which made it easy to regenerate. It would've been worse if the integrity of his armor was broken, but fortunately, the tunqstoid plates of his Brigandine Battlecoat took most of the damage, and damage to the coat wasn't exactly all that important.

Njal The Black

​

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Adi'kas supressing fire followed the fleeing Njal. With a cry of rage that would have impressed a sith she pressed against her own recoil and took pursuit, flying over the former enemy Deryn who was impressivly indestructable as the hovertruck learned the hard way.

Mighty and expensive hardware was used on both sides and the two engine of destruction down below shredded another defenses.
She tried to pin down the filthy backstabber with salves of red repeater bolts.

She was eager to disintegrate the bastard herself but behind a veil of frenzy she still realized that she had no chance against the man who easily survived all the explosions and shooting so far. So she did support for anyone trying to take Njal the Black out.
She hoped the other Mandalorians would have a plan to subdue this monster.

Also the crime lord seemed to have many friends arriving at the scene. These were enemies the Lepi could take down. So she diverted some of her impressive fire power to the vehicles and goons, Explosions and cries of pain satisfied her thirst for vergeance a bit as she mowed down the extras of the reinforcements.

 

[Xun of Throne]

Everyone seemed to be jumping out the window, starting with Gunfist’s old acquaintance and fellow pirate, Njal. Gunfist didn’t really feel like jumping out a window, so he went back out the exit and stepped into a turbo lift, crew crowding in until the lift was cramped. The lift chimed and the doors slid closed.

They began descending to the gentle tunes of a Bith jatz band.

The lift arrived on the lower level and opened with a whoosh. Gunfist and crew then walked outside, where the sound of blaster fire and egotistical caricatures once more reigned.

Gunfist leveled his arm cannon at the nearest individual menacing Njal, Deryn Kaaldos , and loosed a blast of superheated plasma toward his torso capable of turning a permacrete wall into molten slag.

 

[Alejandro Vizcaya]

Location: Rubble, probably.
Enemies: Party poopers!
Allies: Check Signers ✔

Baradium, dear mother of Jabba someone blew a baradium bomb. What else were they packing!? Alejandro threw caution to the wind if there was any left as the only reason he knew that it was a Baradium bomb is that now he saw the skeleton of people, like an X-Ray!

Around Him the room, the world and the bottom exploded. He was lucky that the wave sent him flying backwards through the cabinet of booze and glasses shredding His skin as he flew through the thing, then wood and then finally, mercifully the ground. He was sure at least three things were broken and He was shot at least two times, courtesy of Saram Kote .

Which was weird because He never heard any gunshots, but there were in fact two exit wounds in his side and thigh. The glass had embedded itself around His shoulder and torso but other than severe lacerations He was fine. If, you know, they stopped bombing the entierty of this place, friend and foe alike.

Alejandro had to think quickly and quickly he did come with a plan. In order to get paid Njal The Black had to get out of here in one peice, by the looks of it his path was being hailed with gunfire.

Nanobots, blasterfire, grenades, silenced weaponry fire, Alejandro had lost both his pistols but he had one trusty weapon left, his Purple Lightsaber rapier. As he got up so did his blade ignite, swatting aside blasterfire and redirecting it back to their host. Alejandro put himself between the firepower and Njal's exit and provided cover with his fancy blade work.

Outside He had his ship, his crew and at least a dozen goons with a dozen guns. Purple blade in hand Alejandro swatted Droid, blaster and held his ground, He needed a couple of more seconds. He found himself back to back with a massive brute, Xun of Throne .

Perfect timing.

"I got you covered lads, I require more of that foreign Ale. Is that a gun as a hand?"

Blood and guts were no match for a seasoned pirate and now He was going to show them His true talent, speed. He tipped His hat in almost ritualistic fashion, His limbs went almost limp as He raised the tip of the rapier like saber, so thin it was barely a light hue. In blink of an eye and a jingle the man vanished in a dash of insane force speed, everything from that side of the room to the other split in two. The ground of the second floor, already tipping to the point breaking down into the first floor was burned like a speeder thruster went through it.

Alejandro appeared three meters beside the hole that Saram and His astonishingly beautiful compardre Aselia Verd came through. He was relaxed, rapier tipped, confident smiled and regarded them respectfully with a strong fierrero accent.

"You seem like a decent lot. I hate to kill you."

Njal The Black had to survive, that's how they got paid, His men would come soon and with them hell would follow but for now He needed to cause a massive nuisance, cause massive damage and blow as many of these guys to scrap as possible.​

 

[Njal The Black]

While some of the nanobots would be pulled away, the distance the two were at, and the nigh explosive nature of the droids swarm made it far more difficult to break away from than a simple grenade with a timer. It was, afterall, designed to collect bounties on Sith Lords of far more menacing reputation than Deryn; but the Gen’dai had thought quickly regardless. Avoiding the blunt of the strike, many of them were pulled away for a few careful moments - saving him from being encapsulated, but unlikely to be completely unhindered by their locking mechanisms.​

​

Njal, for what he was worth, had at least managed to get away from the mercenary through the window - shortly followed by the big man himself only a second later. He grunted as he glanced up - and the shots he fired down on Njal would find their mark; the first just beneath the bottom of his phrik breastplate, nailing him in the gut. He curled in pain, bringing the marquee in his hand up to block the second blaster bolt from hitting his face - but it did little good.​

​

While the evidence was destroyed, so too was his hand mangled, and a good few pieces of durasteel were planted in Njal’s face - not to say many of his features were ruined, he was hardly a pretty man to look at before. Slamming into the ground, he rolled to his knees only to spit up more blood - though much more was now seeping from the various cuts he had on his face, and the gut shot that leaked more stomach contents than just blood.​

​

He sucked in as much breath as he could, watching as the Gen’dai was slammed into by the oncoming force of a localized freighter. It, as small of a victory as it was, brought a crude crimson smile to his face - and as the mercenary landed in front of him he croaked out some little taunts, a pirate to his last -​

​

“Turning on your employer for a quick buck is a good way to get blacklisted, kid. Don’t think this wasn’t broadcasted somewhere.”, he hoarse out with a wink.​

​

That was, until Gunfist - in all his massive glory, had arrived only a moment after. With no words, he watched the gun fist that gave him his name was fired at the Gen’dai with extreme prejudice, and Njal only hoped it would find its mark. Struggling to stand, he let the holsters on his hip twirl in place - one to fire an armor piercing verpine shot, and the other to land a disruptor shell directly in the spot he had just made for the man.​

​

Because even a Gen’dai’s healing factor couldn’t outpace the vaporizing capacity of a disruptor.​

​

His eyes however, had begun to wander upwards - as his own crew, and a dozen others began to land and take names. His contact had made good on his promise at least, but Njal wasn’t out of the woods just yet. If the others made their way to him, he doubted he’d make it much farther before he became the unlucky corpse in some Sith experiment in the local academy.​

​

He shuddered at the thought. Better to die and stay dead than be brought back the puppet of some ugly freak.​

​

Xun of Throne │ Deryn Kaaldos │ Alejandro Vizcaya​

 

[Aaron Beskheart]

Coming from the shadows appears Aaron in a "Griefer" frigate as he was hired to aid in security of a pirate crew led by Alejandro Vizcaya and it appears his role switched from security to "nanny" as he had to go rescue someone from getting annihilated by some of the galaxies' worst pups. Flying at high speed he head straight to his target which is falling down to his death and Aaron activated the tractor beams on the fighter and went in for the catch!​

The tractor beams manage to pick up Njal The Black just barely while drinking some beer on a glass mug.​

"You certainly are one lucky devil".

He took off at high speed before he gets blasted to smithereens. Getting shot at from all directions there are very little escape possibilities and they are all running out. The first thing that crosses his mind is "This guy ain't worth the trouble" while Njal The Black is severely wounded and running out of time. ​

While dodging and attempting escape, Aaron contacts Alejandro Vizcaya

"Hey i got the package and he's not looking good. I need some backup fire or we're both dead."