Heisty Business! - Denon

[Beltran Rarr]

Photo credit: 6rhill

Denon. An ecumenopolis world located at the convergence of two major intergalactic trade routes: the Corellian Run and the Hydian Way. Government by an independent quasi-democratic, quasi-oligarchical assembly, the world currently falls under the influence of none of the major galactic governments. That is part of the reason why the world held interest for Beltran Rarr, assassin, mercenary and recently minted Specialist in the Antarian Rangers.

Today, it is the first two of those adjectives that motivated Beltran's intentions. There is nothing of duty, or honor, or sacrifice: the words that lure many into military service, involved here. Only the lust for credits, and power. Today, Beltran Rarr isn't even Beltran Rarr. He is, instead his alter-ego: the mysterious Mr. Night.

Barely a year ago, Mr. Night would have meant nothing to anyone who wasn't Lorrdian. But in the months since he had left his homeworld, Beltran was beginning to carve out something of a reputation for himself. He had killed the Trandoshan pirate Captain Kavarr on Alaris Prime, and engineered a daring payroll theft at an Imperial garrison on Tatooine.

And today, he would engineer yet another theft. This time, in addition to credits, he would steal an entire company away from one of his most dangerous foes: A criminal cartel known only as The Outfit. Though they had operated on Lorrd, Beltran knew that they originated off-world. Since his departure from his home, engineered by The Outfit's systematic extermination of his former employers, Beltran had kept an eye out for a chance to strike back at them.

Now he had found it and it was Obsidian Star Technologies. A relatively small level arms-manufacturer, Obsidian Star had operated on Denon for approximately twelve years. It maintained a large skyscraper near the center of Denon's business district, Blue Sector, called The Spire. It also owned numerous warehouses throughout the world-spanning city and ran a large factory it dubbed The Forge.

Up until now, it had been operated by CEO Debbis Endo, a wealthy businessman with ties all over the Core. That all had changed approximately three months ago, when Endo had suddenly found himself under indictment for corporate fraud. According to the charges, Endo had been posting fraudulent profit reports every quarter thus artificially inflating Obsidian Star's stock on the galactic exchange. While the case was progressing slowly and Endo had long been released on bail, the resulting stock hit had nearly bankrupted the corporation.

Here entered The Outfit.

Since leaving Lorrd, Beltran had one of his associates: Ralston Sage, tracking several credit accounts linked to the cartel. Last month, he had found a correlation between those accounts and a sudden credit influx at Obsidian Star. Obviously, the two entities' accounts hadn't been linked directly: as that would raise any number of red flags on any number of worlds. Instead, withdrawals of hard currency from the former were seen matching up to deposits of the same in the latter.

That meant one thing: The Outfit was bankrolling Obsidian Star with hard currency. And what was Beltran's favorite thing about hard currency? It could be stolen.

That was what brought the Lorrdian to Denon on this day, and what had him sitting alone at a table in the backroom of a nondescript hole-in-the-wall tavern located on one of the lowest levels of Blue Sector. The room he had rented out in order to host the arrival of his help: [member="John Doe"] and [member="Sareen Zar"].

The Lorrdian knew next to nothing about either of the beings, except that his contact Sage had suggested them. If he could have engineered the heist on his own, Beltran would have done so. But anything this valuable, being moved under guard of The Outfit, would be difficult to acquire. It was very likely that by the end of the job more than one soul would be spirited away to the great beyond, but Beltran had no intention of it being him.

Each of the beings, and their respective crews, had been given this location and a meeting time of ten minutes from now. Until they arrived, Beltran would sit quietly and sip from his chilled ale.

 

[John Doe]

Well, this seemed interesting.

John Doe had a great opportunity to cripple a rival crime syndicate, The Outfit. While they hadn't directly conflicted yet, why waste the chance to weaken another syndicate he may or may not be facing off against in the future? The Jesters had been rallied, and six of his best men were assigned to help out in the heist, with Kirk Rand, The Right Hand, leading them. Their contact and leader of the heist, [member="Beltran Rarr"] was waiting for them.

The eight men walked to the man, sipping a cold drink as he waited. The goons were in long jackets, concealing weapons and durasteel armor underneath. Kirk was in his usual outfit, his bloodstripe showing prominently on his pants, and his blaster was likewise concealed. John Doe, aware that his features may cause attention to be drawn their way before the thievery even started, wore a full environment suit. Underneath, his weapons were ready, and he was dressed to perfection in a purple tuxedo. Doe walked to Beltran casually while the others lagged behind.

"Oh, goody! This is probably the first time we haven't been fashionably late to anything in...well, a while. So, are we winging it? I do love surprises! Bahaha!"

While the suit concealed John Doe's features, it didn't suppress the insanity from within.

"John Doe, at your service and discomfort. The wannabe smuggler there in the brown leather is Kirk. And the goons don't mean anything to me; ergo, they don't have names."

The six gunmen wisely chose to ignore the last comment. They've all seen what happens when one crosses The Pale One.

"So, you come here often, good-looking? Hahaha!"

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran regarded the being in the environment suit with a stoic mask. As a Lorrdian, Beltran had a natural talent for reading a being's intentions and emotional state simply through their body language. For most beings, he could quickly discern whether they were happy or sad, lying or being truthful. In the case of combat, he could often determine what an opponent was going to do by reading the minuscule contractions in their musculature before they did it.

In beings who wore armor, or in the case of [member="John Doe"] an environmental suit, this could be a little harder. But Beltran could barely read this being at all, and it deeply disconcerted him. Whenever he felt he was getting as sense of who he was dealing with, the being would completely change his mannerisms. It was as if it was several beings as once, and yet not.

In addition, there was something even more unnerving about the masks that the being's entourage were wearing. They resembled clowns or...

Jesters maybe? A voice suddenly spoke inside his mind.

Go away. Beltran ordered firmly in his thoughts. All the while he kept his green eyes focused on the being in front of him. He didn't need this being, or anyone else to see that Beltran had more than a little insanity of his own.

"Welcome," Beltran answered out loud, his basic coming with a Lorrdian accent. "I'm glad to see that you found your way here and, as you made note of, on time." As he spoke, the Lorrdian glanced pointedly at the empty doorway beyond where the environmental suited being's men stood. "A feat, it seems, that our other counterpart has not."

He then took another sip of his ale, using the time to gauge the other men in the room as well as calm his own mind. Unlike Doe, Beltran did not enjoy surprises, and this job had given him more than enough of them just in it's opening moments. He then stood and straightened his own suit jacket, black and cut in a vaguely similar style as the purple one the being wore. The Lorrdian then extended his hand toward Doe.

"I am called Mr. Night," He said. "And to answer your question, no. We will not be winging this operation. If you would join me at the table, I can show you what I have planned and we can discuss from there. Perhaps in that time, our other compatriot will arrive."

 

[John Doe]

John Doe looked at the proffered hand, then shook his head slightly from side to side. Kirk quickly intercepted the handshake, with a beskar-hard grip.

"Mr. Doe doesn't shake hands. Sorry."

​"Call it habit, Mr. Night. I don't like having my hands restrained. Well, not all the time, if you catch my drift. Hehehe! C'mon, boys! Sit around the table! Let's see what Nighty-night made for us here."

​With a slight clamor, all of Doe's crew sat around the table. The clown sat especially close to Mr. Night, almost uncomfortably so. To make matters slightly worse, he decided to take off his environmental suit's helmet. A shock of slick green hair, pale, almost white skin, glowing blue eyes, and a smile that bespoke insanity came into full view several inches away from Night's face. John Doe leaned forward, leaving centimeters of space between the two, before speaking.

​"Please, tell us your plan."

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Oh I like him! The Jester exclaimed in Beltran's mind as [member="John Doe"] removed his helmet. He's got style. Beltran forced himself to meet the clown's gaze evenly, even though a war played out in the Lorrdian's mind. One part of him wanted to cancel the operation altogether, pack up and head back to Kashyyyk. After all, there would always be another chance to hit The Outfit.

Another part of him wanted to pull the vibro-blade he had secreted in his sleeve and stick it directly in Doe's eye. Meanwhile a third part of him-the part Beltran would yield to-knew that this man...if Doe could really be called that, was exactly the sort of individual he needed to pull this operation off.

It was that part, the consummate professional, that Beltran focused himself on. It took barely a moment before the Lorrdian had returned his mind to the razor's edge of precision that he preferred. He hoped that Doe hadn't caught the sudden lapse in his concentration. But now that he could see Doe's face and read him-albeit only slightly-better, Beltran doubted it.

In fact, he highly doubted that there was much at all that escaped the clown's notice.

"Very well," He answered, showing little emotion as the rest of Doe's crew crowded around the table. On the table lay a small spherical object. Reaching down, Beltran pressed a small button on the side, which in turn activated a detailed holographic display that was projected into the air above it. It depicted what appeared to be a small industrial complex.

"This is the tertiary storehouse for Obsidian Star Technologies," He began. "It's located in Blue Sector as well, a few levels above us. My source believes that a group of mercenaries working for The Outfit are scheduled to deliver a shipment of credits here in approximately six hours. Based on previous withdrawals from Outfit accounts, which have matched deposits in to Obsidian Star accounts perfectly, we're looking at an amount of anywhere between one and five million."

Reaching down once more, Beltran pressed the button on the sphere again. This changed the image from the overhead map of the complex to a picture of a human male in his mid to late forties.

"This is Debbis Endo, the current CEO of Obsidian Star. As per the Outfit's usual operating procedure, he will have to be at this meeting to personally take possession of the shipment. Our objective, in addition to stealing the shipment, is to capture Mr. Endo as I will have need of his services for a future endeavor. We can expect there to be at least a dozen armed guards on the Outfit's side and likely as many on Obsidian Star's as well."

Clicking back to the overhead map, Beltran pointed at one of the buildings which overlooked the main courtyard area. At the touch of his hand, the area highlighted. "My plan was to set up a sniper's nest here. Once both the Obsidian Star and Outfit's transports arrived, and the meeting has begun I will use precise shots to disable both vehicles here and here." He pointed to two areas in the center of the courtyard and used his finger to draw X's, marking the approximate position he expected the vehicles to be in.

"My intention was to have your people split into two groups and attack each of the parties from behind. With any luck, there will be enough confusion in the opening moments that each of the parties will think the other has betrayed them and start firing on each other. I can provide cover from the sniper's nest until we've thinned out the herd a little, and then I'll come down and help finish off the rest. Then we take the money, and Mr. Endo, and fall back to a safe house I've acquired in Green Sector."

With this, Beltran deactivated the holographic display and once more met the gaze of [member="John Doe"]. This time he found the clown's eyes a little less disconcerting, perhaps insanity was growing on him.

"Thoughts?"

 

[John Doe]

"Thoughts? No, not really. Let's get to the killing! Goons, listen to whatever Nighty-night tells you to do! Kirk, you're with me."

The motley crew nodded in affirmation. They were competent. Somewhat. And expendable. Well, not Kirk. But he'd be with the clown, so he'd be safe.

"Now, for the most important part. You'll be up there, safe and out of harm's way, while my boys will be in the thick of it. What's our cut? It better be good, or I'll get a cut out of you! Hahaha!"

The clown's eyes grew cold and calculative. Those who had been around Doe long enough knew that look, the one he gave off when it was game time and when some modicum of serious thought was needed.

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

 

[Beltran Rarr]

The moment that [member="John Doe"] made mention of “taking a cut” out of Beltran, the Lorrdian knew he had erred. It was obvious that the momentary discomfort that he had felt when he was first exposed to the clown’s visage had given Doe the impression that he could be intimidated.

He met the clown’s eyes evenly, and this time there was no trace of fear or discomfort in them. Only the cold, calculating brutality of a professional killer. He didn’t speak for too long a moment as he held Doe’s gaze.

The atmosphere in the room became charged, as if the tiniest movement would cause the entire building to explode in a flurry of violence and death. He trusted that the clown was intuitive enough to read Beltran’s eyes and know who, exactly, he was dealing with.
Of course, on the outside he would probably dismiss it in his own mind. Perhaps make a joke, to keep up with the persona. But deep down, in the pit of whatever Doe called a soul, Beltran knew the clown would know.

Then, as quickly as the moment came, Beltran allowed it to go.

“That won’t be necessary,” The Lorrdian replied simply. “I have taken the additional risk to your men into account. Assuming we complete the job and survive long enough to rendezvous at the safe house. Your men will be given sixty-five percent of the credits in the shipment. At least 650,000 and likely more. I get Endo, and the remaining thirty-five percent.”

While the credits were important, Beltran needed Endo if his plans for the future were going to come to fruition.

With that dealt with, Beltran took Doe’s invitation to heart-issuing orders to the clown’s subordinates. He made sure to treat the man called Kirk with respect, since he and the clown seemed to be closer than the others.

Five hours and forty-three minutes later:

The next few hours saw the group of mercenaries setting up the ambush as Beltran had outlined. On one end of the compound just inside the entry gate, Beltran had stationed four of Doe’s faceless goons.
This was the position most likely to be discovered, and the position most likely to take the most fire during the operation. As such, Beltran decided to put the most expendable assets there, since it was unlikely anyone from that position would survive.

At the second position, just next to the main warehouse, was where he would have Doe, Kirk and the remaining two goons attack from.

This position provided more cover, in form of various shipping crates and industrial equipment. This was also where the Lorrdian believed the most effective assault would come from, so he put the assets there they he believed had the highest skill.

Then, as discussed, Beltran made his way up to the sniper’s nest that he’d created on the roof of the storehouse. For this operation, the Lorrdian had purchased a couple of new weapons. His old LD-1 Target Rifle didn’t have the kick he needed to knock out the transport and he didn’t want to use any of the Antarian Ranger equipment he had access to because it would be too easy to recognize.

Once at the nest, Beltran unpacked his TMW-M1 “Lance” Sniper Rifle and set it up, using the tripod it had come with. An old holdout from the days of the Republic, the Tenloss weapon was tried and true. It had the range and the punch necessary to do what he wanted, and it was cheap enough that he wouldn’t mind ditching it when the time came to withdraw.

Next to the sniper rifle, laid up against the wall was his other new purchase: A Monroe-Horak Multipurpose Combat Rifle. This rifle was a little newer, and cost a little more to get but it was perfect for just the sort of close combat fighting that this ambush would invite. In addition to blaster bolts, the rifle could fire projectile slugs, sonic waves, ionic disruptor pulses, standard disruptor shots, plasma projections and ion bolts.

It was a weapon for literally any purpose.

With everything set up, Beltran got himself ready. Looking through the sniper rifle’s scope, he saw exactly what he wanted to see. Keying his comlink to the channel that he’d given Doe and his men, he spoke calmly. “Alright, that’s the first transport. Hold tight until the second transport arrives.”

Even as he spoke, the gates to the compound began to open and a large, luxurious looking hover transport began to move inside. On the side of the transport, a black star could be seen, marking it as being from Obsidian Star.

When the transport was all the way inside, it pulled to the right so that it was perpendicular to the store house where Doe and his men were hiding. After a moment, the rear doors opened and seven men got out. Each of them carried a nasty looking blaster rifle, as well as a side arm. They were armed with flak vests and full combat rigs, as befitted the in-house security team for a major arms manufacturer.
The Obsidian Star men then fanned out slowly, taking up defensive positions near the transport. When that was done, another man, stepped out. He wore a business suit and even through the scope of his sniper rifle, Beltran could tell that he was nervous.

This was Debbis Endo, the man Beltran needed and the only reason any of this was happening at all.

There wasn’t much time to think on the matter, as not two minutes later, a pair of smaller transports also arrived. These transports were not nearly as luxurious as the Obisidan Star one was, but they were serviceable and non-descript. Pulling into the compound, the pair split off and each took a position flanking the first transport.

From inside each of them, a group of five mercenaries exited. Unlike the Obisidian Star troops, who were all human, these mercs were made up of humans, Twi’leks, a Gamorrean, and a pair of Togorians. Each was armed with differing weapons and armors, but one thing remained the same amongst them all: They looked like they’d come ready for a fight.

Like the Obisidian Star forces had done, these mercenaries fanned out as well. Each seemed to take one of their opposing ilk, while the remainder stayed next to the first of their transports.

“We wait until we see the credits,” Beltran commed the others. It wouldn’t do to have this all go down before they were even sure the money had been brought.

Below, the man Beltran had identified as Debbis Endo hesitantly approached the red-skinned Twi’lek who appeared to be in charge of the other crew. They had a few words and then, the Twi’lek motioned to one of his mercs. That one, a human, went to the back of the first transport and appeared to unlock a rear compartment. Then with the help of the Gamorrean, they hefted out a large perfectly cube-like silver crate and carried it over to where Endo stood with the Twi’lek.

“Get ready,” Beltran murmured as he zeroed in on the first of the mercenaries’ transports. Then, when he was sure he wouldn’t miss, Beltran activated the sniper rifle and sent a large beam of light down and directly through the vehicles engine block.

“Go! Now!” He ordered, even as he zeroed in on the other non-descript transport and fired again, disabling it as well. With both of the Outfit’s transports disabled, Endo and the Obisidan Star soldiers would be trapped inside the compound, outnumbered by several dangerous mercenaries, as well as a psychotic clown and a Lorrdian hit-man with a grudge to settle.
It was definitely a bad day to be Debbis Endo.

 

[John Doe]

"This suit is irritating, Kirky. I can't even scratch my back. Ahh, there's a nagging itch right in the small of it..."

"Go! Now!"

The clown howled in insane laughter, raising a blaster rifle and cracking off a shot. His mark was true, blowing a fist-sized hole in the head of a Twi'lek mercenary. He turned to Kirk and the two other goons with him.

"Let's get the party started, gents!"

Kirk sprinted forward, finding cover before laying down a volley of death from his pistol. The two goons followed suit, receiving commands from the seasoned Corellian smuggler. They likewise took cover, and took their time with their shots.

The other four Jesters, from their seperate position, moved forward, trading shots with the enemy. Without a leader and cover, they probably wouldn't last long.

John Doe threw off his environmental suit helmet, exposing his disturbing features yet again as he shrieked and howled in joy, his peals of laughter audible over the blaster fire.

"Oh, I love my job! Hahahaha! Die!"

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran could see through his scope as the clown and his group began their assault in earnest. The first few opening shots proved to be every bit as chaos-inducing as the Lorrdian had hoped, as they managed to hit and kill the red-skinned Twi’lek mercenary who appeared to be the leader of The Outfit’s group.

As Beltran had predicted, the remaining Outfit mercenaries’ minds immediately seemed to go to a place of betrayal, for without even bothering to check the scene, they responded by opening fire on the Obsidian Star forces.

In short, it was a blood bath as the three groups of armed assailants lit into each other.

As the battled continued, Beltran would pick off-one by one- the members of the Obsidian Star forces immediately surrounding Debbis Endo. Endo, for his part, seemed to have the good sense to hide on the far side of his transport. The Lorrdian had feared that the inept businessman might have tried to flee, and in so doing catch one of the dozens of stray blaster bolts that were flying about the compound.

Luckily, the man’s cowardice far outweighed his will to flee. But even so, Beltran knew that he would have to get down to the ground level and capture Endo before long.

With nearly half of each side’s mercenaries now dead, along with three out of the for goons he’d placed in the first position, the Lorrdian decided it was time for him to set foot on the battlefield proper. Leaving his Tenloss sniper rifle in the nest, he grabbed his Mandalorian made rifle of doom and make quick progress down to the compound.

Once there, he switched made his way toward Endo’s position. He would fire as he crouch ran from crate to crate, using the environment to his greatest advantage. His own bolts would fine homes in the chests of the Outfit’s gamorrean, and two of Obsidian star’s humans.
By this point, the remaining Outfit mercs, about four of them had retreated toward their-now useless- transports. While the Obisidan Star forces, numbering only three crouched, each in three separate positions, behind whatever cover they had been able to find.

As Beltran closed in on Endo, he was vaguely aware of the sound of one of the Outfit’s transports opening and then closing. He hadn’t time to look at what was happening, so focused was he on getting to Endo that he was actually startled with a powerful, deep voice called out through the din of combat.

“RAAAAAARRR! COME FACE ME YOURSELF, YOU COWARD!”

Even though he hadn’t seen the face of the being who made the challenge, Beltran immediately knew that he had miscalculated. Upon reaching cover, the Lorrdian turned and brought his weapon to bare on the massive, blue-skinned T’surr who’d gotten out of the Outfit transport. He stood nearly three meters call, and appeared to be well over four-hundred pounds of terror inducing death.

This was Ryango Feyyr, lead enforcer of The Outfit and the being who had personally slaughtered Beltran’s former employers back on Lorrd. He wore heavy durasteel armor that, for the moment at least, seemed to be deflecting the blaster bolts of anyone who dared to fire on him. In his hands, rather than a blaster, he carried a giant battle hammer.

“I’M GOING TO PICK MY TEETH WITH YOUR BONES,” The T’surr threatened, before pointing his hammer toward the Clown’s position. “AND FLOSS WITH HIS SKIN!”

[member="John Doe"]

 

[John Doe]

"Er, Kirky. Did he just say he was gonna floss his teeth with my skin?"

Kirk gave John Doe a raised eyebrow. He wasn't sure how they'd take that beast down. But then he remembered The Jester's secret weapon and grinned wickedly.

"Sir, should we call him in?"

John Doe's smile stretched even wider.

"Kark it! Let's make it a real party!"

Reaching into one of the environmental suit's pockets, the clown produced a comlink. He raised it to his mouth and shouted into it.

"Wormy! There's a pesky blue thing that needs killing! Get your homicidal booty over here! Hahaha!"

A low growl emanated from the other side of the comlink.

"I'll be there..."

As the few mercenaries left exchanged fire with The Jesters, a slight whining noise would be heard over the din of battle, growing louder and louder by the second. It came to a crescendo, and in came in a huge, armored being on a jetpack, hovering over Ryango Feyyr and Beltran. He landed between the Human and the T'surr, then stood up to his full height, a beastly 12 feet. As the two giants stared off, John Doe called out from behind cover.

"Mr. Dental Care, meet Ayi'Tir. We call him Wormy, because, well, he looks like a giant ball of writhing worms."

Ayi'Tir was a Gen'Dai, meaning he would regenerate to nearly all physical damage done to him. He was more than a match for the T'surr.

"Sic 'em, killer!"

Ayi'Tir roared and charged forward, his two pistols already blazing away.

[member="Beltran Rarr"]

Ayi'Tir :http://starwarsrp.net/topic/124559-ayitir/

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran his rifle held at the ready, prepared to bring all the firepower he possessed against the object of his ire. It had seemed, for a moment, that this was all going to end in a bloody showdown between the Lorrdian and the T’Surr. And then [member="John Doe"] happened. In a brief moment of thought, occurring at the same instant as the large, writhing creature called “Wormy” touched down between him and
Ryango, Beltran realized that nothing had gone according to plan from the first moment he’d met the clown.

Even from their first meeting, this entire endeavor had become unpredictable. It was as if everything the clown touched descended into chaos. That was a true talent, and one that Beltran found both admirable and unsettling at the same time.

Ryango, for his part, seemed to find the new and sudden introduction of “Wormy” even more unsettling than Beltran did. Even as one massive creature charged another, Beltran could see the T’surr’s mind working. The common misconception about Ryango’s people was that due to their size and strength, they were as a by-product, stupid. T’surr were, in addition to being big, strong and ruthless, also highly intelligent.

Ryango allowed his armor to absorb the first few bolts from the Worm’s assault as he turned and grabbed hold of one of his own surviving mercenaries with his free hand. His powerful muscles flexed as the blue-skinned terror lobbed the, now terrified, human directly at the

Worm as if he were nothing more than a pillow. It was obvious Ryango didn’t expect one human to stop the mass of worm-like creatures, but it could slow it down. As the human crashed into the Worm, Ryango was already moving, backtracking behind the transport.

“GOT A NEW PET, DO WE? RARR?” The T’surr’s booming voice carried easily, even over the sound of the human merc’s (assumed)
grisly demise. “AND THE PET HAS A PET TOO. CUTE.”

As this provocation, Beltran began to fire on Ryango’s position. His bolts bounced off the hull of the T’surr’s speeder, indicating that it was in fact armored. The remaining Obsidian Star troopers and Outfit mercs were also firing, both sides pumping as much fire into the writhing creature as they could.

From his position, Ryango turned and began to stalk toward the position where Doe and Kirk crouched. As he neared them, the massive being raised his hammer and started to swing it at Doe. It appeared that he planned to make good on his promise, worm or no worm.

 

[John Doe]

"I AM NO PET! I AM AYI, OF THE CLAN TIR, AND I WILL BE YOUR DEATH!"

While Ayi'Tir may have been psychotic, that didn't mean he wasn't smart, either. He didn't have anything to fear from the remaining mercenaries. Their blaster bolts either dinged off his armor or his regenerative factor negated the damage completely. No, his red haze of rage was focused on the T'surr, more specifically mounting his head as a trophy. As the beast prepared to swing his hammer down directly on John Doe, the Gen'Dai tackled Ryango, who proceeded to begin to beat the blue alien senseless with armored fists. The clown looked at Beltran and smiled. He had many tricks up his sleeves, it seemed. Doe then turned his attention back to the fight at hand between the two titans, egging them on.

"Beat him senseless, Wormy! You're stronger, faster, and sexier! Hahaha! You got this!"

[member="Beltran Rarr"][member="Beltran Rarr"]

 

[Beltran Rarr]

As the blows rained down on the terrifying mask that was the T’surr’s face, Ryango roared. The blue beast, did his best to shield his face as he mentally regrouped from the shock of being so easily overcome.

The blaster fire, which still seemed to be primarily targeting “Wormy” came from all over the compound as both the remaining Obsidian Star operatives, and The Outfit merc’s began to regroup.

Turning his attention away from the fight, Beltran quickly found his target. Debbit Endo, now flanked by three of the remaining OS operatives, was beginning to move away from the battle. It figured that a coward like Endo would make a beeline for home as soon as the attention was focused somewhere else.

Regardless, the Lorrdian needed to take Endo. If nothing else came of this operation, that had to happen.

That being said, there were other considerations that needed to be made. As he began to take off in persuit of Endo, Beltran keyed his comlink and spoke. “[member="John Doe"], you and Kirk need to secure those credits.” He said evenly, despite the chaos that swirled around them all. “Better to do it now while everyone else is watching your friend beat the T’surr to a pulp.”

The crate, who which Beltran made mention, remained on the ground not far from where Ryango and the worm were struggling. The Outfit Merc’s who remained had, for the moment, abandoned it in favor of finding cover and firing at the creature that was attacking their boss…