I break faces (Underground/Dosuun/Open)

[RC 212]

The Shady part of town.

Crack!

That was the sound of Seraya's knee impacting the Rodians face. He had decided to fight her in close combat, and he had lost. What was truly sad was that it took her five seconds to knock him out. Of course this drew attention to her, and her companion Worsh.

He grunted, and the Mon Cal shot her a look.

"Done now?"

She grinned, face flecked with blood. This was a First Order world and as such, the criminal element had been rather repressed. That was something she was hoping to capitalize on tonight. A few good fights, and a few good drinks and she might be able to set up an Underground Cell, right underneath their noses.

"No not at all."

Her coat was hung on a chair, her Jast 1 The Fleabag in a Shadowport hangar.

And this bar was popping tonight. The Rodian in particular was a FO Comm's officer who'd challenged her to a duel. She re wrapped her fists with cloth and heaved heavy breaths. He was Ko'ed and both civillian and trooper alike were there cheering her on.

"Who else wants a shot?" She asked, white tank-top drenched with sweat. She spread her arms, letting a local pour some booze in her mouth and swallowed it hard. It tasted like fire and it was good.

"Come on now! Don't be shy!"

Worsh grimaced. She'd get them noticed by the FO by the end of the night. He checked his Heavy Repeater under the table, and kept a watchful eye for Storm Troopers...

[member="Thane Drexel"]

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]

Finalizer City, near spaceport
Dosuun

Nervous energy took Mara out of bed and welded her to the rusty apartment’s window. Most of Finalizer City, most of Dosuun, was nicer than this, but Finalizer had its own problems. This crappy portside rezblock was on its way to demolition - for the future[/]. Snugging the Cerean’s flannel shirt around herself, she peered up through metal slats as a megatransport carried the Star Tours brand to the universe. The roar of its engines penetrates the apartment, even from kilometres away.

“You shouldn't have come,” said the Cerean. Mara shot him a glance and raised an eyebrow; he blushed halfway up his skull. She turned back to the mostly-futuristic view, and the gray metal, and the afternoon rain.

“Sneaking onto the First Order's capital world took some serious doing'” she said. "Wasn't done lightly." His shirt smelled like him, a blend of starship coolant and spaceport grime, with an undercurrent of sweat. She liked it, all things considered.

The Cerean, Perrotta, slid farther under the sheets. “Still not sure why you did. The Underground doesn't have much presence here, just a few contacts left over from taking on the Fringe.”

It wasn't the first time he'd poked her for some indication of her goal. On the one hand, he'd sat here for years with nothing to do but work at a normal life. On the other...well, on Underground business, trust nobody, right?

Mara turned away from the window and slid back into her pants, then buttoned his shirt and tucked it in. Perrotta's eyebrows rose and felt like they could keep rising up his tall skull. He laughed in disbelief. “You're taking my shirt?”

Mara shrugged into her long coat. “I like the way it smells.”

He scooted back to sit up against the wall, sheets tucked around his waist. “You're coming again tomorrow?”

Yeah, he was good. Perfectly normal question, no undue anxiety, careful phrasing, as if stormtroopers wouldn’t be waiting. Mara made a pass with her hand, then another and another, in the guise of turning away to dress. She slid her holdout blaster inside the borrowed shirt and tucked it into her belt at a safe-ish angle. “See you when I see you, Perrotta.”

“Hurry back. Be safe.”

Mara ran her fingers through her hair, sighed, and prodded his door control. Beyond lay the halls of the dingy rezblock, which catered to lower-end spacers and port attendants. She'd blend in fine.

Behind her, the Cerean started to forget her name, her job, her importance, even her face. Within five minutes she'd be a vague and pleasant and guilt-tinged memory, just some two-night stand he'd picked up at a spaceport bar.

The rezblock turbolifts deposited her in gray metal streets, haphazard modernity blended with older and poorer buildings. Dosuun prided itself on wealth and sheen, but Finalizer City had been around before the First Order, and some neighborhoods didn't really fit the brochure yet.

Empathic senses picked up pain and exhilaration, guided her into a rough bar. This one catered to shipyard staff and troopers. A circle had formed, a mix of raucous enjoyment and focused wagers. Mara slipped through the crowd for a look at the fight.

 

[Progflaw99]

-- -- --​

Location: "The Shady Part of Town", Dosuun​

-- -- --​

​

Commotion wasn't uncommon in a place like this, in fact some might even argue that it thrived in places - like this. A tussle or two, a raised voice or a less than friendly shoulder bump were simply the normal here. It hadn't bothered him at first, but what he did pick up on was the fact the recipient of the beating was none other than an officer - looked to be Navy, maybe Stormtrooper Corps. He'd noticed the small group of them wander in - must be new graduates of the military academy, senior officers wouldn't likely be seen in this part of town, much less picking fights with those who were frankly - below their pay grade. From where he sat with several others he merely raised an eyebrow as he took a deep sip of the frothy drink before him. Certainly not the best drink he'd ever had - but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Gently placing the large mug back on the table, he glanced at the officer, now incapacitated.

The officer's friends had risen from their seats, anger and embarrassment readily apparent by the expressions on their faces though they said nothing as they gathered their compatriot. Several sneers were shot in the woman's direction as she raised her arms but no one moved to indulge her, at least not initially. In a general bustle, the officers and their limp comrade shuffled towards the door. Several of them you could see were considering the open air challenge but they weren't stupid enough to take the bait.

*Bait.* That's what it was - but what was the end goal? It was clear the two hadn't simply gotten into a disagreement about a suspected evening conquest, nor a careless shoulder bump but beyond that, Tyr had little information to go on. What he did know, was that the racket was disturbing his R&R. It had been a measure since his last good row, and he didn't see a reason why that should stay the case. It was an open invitation wasn't it?

*Skrrrrt*​

​

The sound of a chair grating against the wooden planks of the floor filled the room, voices and commotion coming to a near halt as the hulk of a man shifted his seat away from the table. Slowly, a practiced dramaticism falling upon the man as he rose, raised the mug to his lips and gulped down the last bit of the brew before his eyes moved towards the woman. Whispers filled his ears. No words were necessary, his intent clear as those dark orbs focused in on the girl. She had laid bare a challenge and he could hardly pass it up. The Auxiliary had yet to truly be tested, though some of their forces had been scrambled to Hoth before the inevitable attack made by the Alliance - this was a good a test as any for those who yet thirsted for conflict.

"Aye girl - lest you decide to shy away."​

​

​

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] | [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]​

 

[Poe]

​Tossing back the last few drops from his mug, he stared across the individual seated opposite him. ​"Told you the lass would win. Now, you owe me fifty credits." ​The Twi'lek reached into his tunic prompting Halifax to add as he himself placed a hand on one of his blades, ​"Nice and slow like. We wouldn't want these FO lads to come in here disrupting tonight's events on the wings of a murder investigation do we?" ​Smirking at Halifax, the Twi'lek removed his hand from his hidden blaster's butt and instead produced a small, leathery pouch. Tossing it on the table the alien stood up and began to leave. ​"Pleasure doing business with you, Pri'ol." ​Leaving the table, Pri'ol muttered something under his breath throwing Halifax into a rage of near undying laughter.

"Bloody aliens." ​Motioning for the weather-beaten barmaid, he ordered a second drink propping his feet on the table. The fight was interesting, considering in less than five seconds he grew fifty credits richer. The lass had spunk, that was certain, but he found amusement when she laid down an open challenge again. It didn't take long for someone to volunteer himself to run through the gauntlet. Looking at the lone alien, a Bothan no less, sitting at the table nursing his only drink he ordered all night, Halifax asked, ​"Hey you! That's right, I'm talking to you. Let me ask you a question. Are you a betting man?"

​"I don't bet on acts of violence. Prude and childish that is," the Bothan responded. ​"I see lad. Well I guess having the opportunity to win two-hundred credits is childish, too." The Bothan smiled as he moved to the outlaw's table, prompting to sit down uninvited. ​"I can't afford to lose that many credits. How about we bet a round of drinks instead?" ​Considering the proposal for a few seconds, Halifax nodded agreeing to the bet. A free drink was, afterall, a free drink. "Pick your hero, Bothan." Eyeing the two potential combatants, the Bothan finally said, ​"I'll take the big man."



[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] l [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] l [member="Tyr Helgryndr"]

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] [member="Tyr Helgryndr"] [member="Halifax Fett"]

The raucous heat of the bar permeated Mara's clothing. Her long coat had been designed for the glacial roads on Kilia Four; between the hidden beskar weave and the fur trim, the coat just wasn't suitable for this place. She used a small exercise of the Force, an ability called tapas, to moderate her body temperature at the risk of attracting attention from the First Order's Darksiders. Folding her arms, she stood in the edge of the ring and watched the Rodian slink off. And here came another local to rise to the drunk brunette's challenge.

Rise, and keep rising. The man was gigantic - two-fifty or a bit more; maybe six foot two. As she heard others make their wagers, Mara felt an instinctive dislike take hold. Someone that size angling to fight a wiry five-foot-nothing girl in her mid-twenties...yeah, Mara started thinking about ways to cheat on behalf of that dumb brunette.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Tyr Helgryndr"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Halifax Fett"]

She grinned, letting the sweat drip down her body and nodded. With one hand she brushed her black hair back, and clipped into a quick pony tail. Then her right foot slid back and she angled her hips to face the monstrous attacker. Worsh was going to intervene here, grabbing her arm.

"No, not here."

"Yes here. I invited, he accepted."

Fire flashed in her eyes and the Mon Cal licked his lips. Besides it was just a friendly tussle wasn't it?

"No weapons."

She did leave out that little part about no force, but that was not necessary. She was a hidden entity, not broadcasting her position nor alignment. Most First Order did not know her face nor her name as of yet. But if folks were paying attention to Galactic Empire bounties, they might pick her out of the crowd. Maybe...

Her lightsaber was nearby, but hidden in her orange coat. Yes she was just an ordinary freighter Captain, hauling Tibbanna Gas to this dreadful rock. But the hundred or so Disruptor rifles in her lead shielded cargo holds might tell a different story.

With her shift in posture her hands came up, bloody cloths opening into half closed fists. Elbows high and shoulders to her jaw to protect it, hands straight up. It was his move....

 

[Thane Drexel]

Location: Shady part of town Dosuun

Sitting in a corner booth with a lovely Twi'lek and a curvaceous Mirialan, Thane was on his second bottle of the finest champagne he could afford. Or at least one the bar had on hand. He wasn't necessarily celebrating anything, but the ladies wanted it and he'd drink it for their pleasure. Thane would have been busy with his girls but a small scuffle caught his attention across the bar. One of his comrades had begun a fight with an unlucky Rodian who was way out of his league.

This ORC operative was a party animal, made Thane remember his younger years. He watched on as her companion was clearly irked by her audacity to challenge a burley First Order soldier. It wasn't looking good, she was drawing too much attention from thems marshmellow heads for Thane's liking. He'd wait it out for a spell and see where the night went.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Halifax Fett"] [member="Tyr Helgryndr"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Tyr Helgryndr"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Halifax Fett"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

The Shady part of town.

OOC: T'yr I messaged ya and it's been a week. Moving on with this thread.

Nothing happened. He didn't strike and then she heard the sound of footfalls outside the door. Worsh jumped up right away, snatching her coat and her arm. The blood was still fresh on her face, mixing with the sweat that stung her eyes.

"It's time to go! First Order troopers are here!"

"Feth."

The Commo Officer and his friends had told on her. They made for the back, but hadn’t even made the bar when the blaster shots started. A heavy white boot hit the door flinging it open. Two troopers rushed through, shoulder first clearing a path One of them pointed.

"There she is! That's her!"

"Feth."

One reached out to grab her. She pivoted, grabbed his E-11 and yanked it down with one hand. Her left arm came up and parallel. She gave him a crushing elbow blow to the helmet, which knocked him back. Then he toppled forwards a she yanked on the rifle again. The second trooper fired. She fell to knee, pining the first guy.

Then she put a blaster bolt in his head, snapped the rifle to her shoulder and opened fire.

Not the best way to stay stealth mode, but there wasn't many other alternatives...

 

[Thane Drexel]

While this ally of Thane's took down a squad of stormtroopers, he'd snuck out the back and pulled around a speeder. One linked to a local gangster who'd not dare come after Thane after it was reported that the First Order was looking for its owner. Thane drove the speeder towards an alley just outside the cantina. There, he'd wait for his comrade to finish her spree and maybe they could make a clean getaway before backup arrived.

As he waited in the alley, Thane pulled a wide brimmed hat over his horns and kept his face angled so the light couldn't reach his facial tattoos. No one could know he who he was, especially way out of his own safe zone. The safety was off his Ambassador revolver, in case the exit got hot. His trusty Geonosian custom slugthrowers were stashed on his hips and his favorite flask full of whiskey was in a pocket near his heart, where alcohol always was, close at hand.

"This is going to get hairy real quick" he quipped to himself quietly.

As blaster fire echoed through the streets, patrons and civilians ran in fear for their lives in every direction. Thane hoped it wouldn't be long before the woman inside was done.

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]

 

[Poe]

Halifax made to stand up when the Bothan drew a pistol on him. ​"Do you know there's a bounty on your head for murder? Courtesy of the First Order," ​the Bothan said smiling. Halifax smiled back releasing his suits Dur-24 Wrist Laser ​cutting the gun in half; following that with a punch that shattered the nose of the furry alien. Somewhere blaster fire erupted, spurning Halifax to draw his dual pistols; pointing one at the bleeding Bothan and the other surveying the area in a side-to-side motion. ​"You wouldn't kill an unarmed man would you," ​the Bothan said through a muffled mouth as his hands continued to engulf both nose and mouth.

​"I have a bounty on my head according to you. How do you think bounties happen,"​ I replied watching him squirm. ​"But...but...but you're a Mandalorian! You live by a code!" If my helmet wasn't on, this bastard would have seen me grinning ear to ear. ​"I'm an outlaw too. And a murderer don't forget." ​I fired one lone shot into his shoulder and threw a knee up under his chin as he lurched forward.

​Looking over my shoulder as I moved toward the back entrance, I said, ​"Lucky for you I do support a code."



[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] [member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

 

[RC 212]

[member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Halifax Fett"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
OOC: Sorry guys, been busy.

Worsh was already on the exit plan. She was still pinning the dead stormie to the floor and using him as the base of her firing position to rain hell down on the doorway. She caught another trooper in the chest, cutting him up like swiss cheese before they got smart and tossed a flash bang through the door.

She screamed as it went off, but she couldn't even hear herself. Her ears were bleeding and she dropped the rifle cupping them with both hands. She was gonna need a lot of recovery time.

"FETH!" She screamed.

Worsh had blown a second door with a shaped charge. He snatched her up with one hand, slinging her over his shoulder and let rip with the other, firing his repeater across the bar. Hundreds of bolts cascaded and smashed in a wide arc behind them as Worsh charged out towards where Thane had pulled up the exit speeder.

The barrels overheated and it shut down. He slung her onto the back of Thanes speeder and nodded.

"Sorry bout that mate. Get her gone, I'll cover you!" He said, drawing a hidden blaster pistol at the high ready...

 

[Thane Drexel]

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"] [member="Halifax Fett"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Tyr Helgryndr"]

Thane brushed the rubble off his coat when the Mon Cal came through holding a screaming Seraya, he dumped her into the back and as he went to turn around to be the fall guy, Thane reached across the speeder and snagged the fish man by the collar and dragged him into the speeder.

No heroics, this is not the place.

Before the Mon Cal could protest or try to get back out, Thane punched the throttle and pulled up and away. Needing to get out before the First Order could scramble any sort of real response, Thane made for the hyperlanes, there, they'd be able to fade into the chaos of traffic. Thane was cool as a glacier, an ace pilot like him had nothing to fear down here on the surface. There wasn't a pilot in the FO that had as many mission and hours under their belt. You don't get to be in Rogue Squadron as a rookie.

For the time being, Thane held off calling any contacts or allies he had, until he was sure they had slipped the scene.