Dominion Junkyard Elegy - Darkwire Dominion of Altier

[Maxer Shagar]

OBJECTIVE 1

Daiya’s shout of warning was the only sign he got that things were about to go down, even more than they already were. He dove behind a pillar mere seconds before an explosion rocked through the room. It was loud, chaotic, and scorchingly hot. And for a few moments he couldn’t focus on anything except the roaring in his ears. By the time the blast subsided and he had briefly checked himself for injuries, none, he was just in time to peer around the corner and see the supervisor slice the boss's head in two. Shit. There went his primary mission objective.

This really wasn’t going well. The scene of Bluto’s unfortunate end continued to play through his mind as he ducked back behind the pillar. Why had the supervisor done that? Wasn’t he supposed to be working with Bluto? Either there had been some internal tension and this was a quick power grab, or this supervisor was working for someone else. Maxer quickly shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no time for questions and theories. If there was someone else pulling the strings, he would find out directly from the strange supervisor himself.

He stepped out from behind cover, taking in the damage the blast had caused. Luckily the room hadn’t been too affected, the only things that had been destroyed were the control panels to the doors. And considering the scorch marks on one, it didn’t seem like the explosion had been the cause. He caught sight of Shira slumped against a pillar but he couldn’t tell if Daiya had made it out of the blast. Hopefully she had made it, and wasn’t also trapped in a room with a lightsaber wielding enemy like he was.

He wanted to go towards Shira but the supervisor had his full attention. He didn’t say anything at the initial provocation, neither confirming nor denying the man’s suspicions. The whole point of being a shadow was to move outside the Jedi’s sphere of influence. If asked, they would likely deny him having been here at all if it suited them. He would not make their job harder by saying something stupid.

“Guess I’ll have to find a substitute.” As he answered the stranger’s question his eyes narrowed in concentration. “You’ll do.” He grabbed the silver hilts of his lightsabers, revealing a full length blade and a shoto. He noted that his opponent also had wielded dual blades and briefly wondered if he was a fellow practitioner of jar’kai, or just some untrained lackey. He greatly preferred if it was the latter. Not that it really mattered because even if this stranger had received training somewhere, Maxer was confident in his own abilities. He was more than a competent duelist, so this should hopefully be over quick. He dashed forward as soon as his sabers ignited, force enhanced speed making him appear as an orange and yellow blur as he aimed a blow towards the other man's sabers. His goal being to disarm and subdue rather than kill.

Engaging: Zamas Nall
Tags: Shira Varanin Daiya Ripley Kühn

 

[Shira Varanin]

Maxer Shagar Daiya Zamas Nall

The iBorg Encoil spinal reinforcement saved Shira's life, but that blow to the head was no joke, and getting knocked out was a lot more...something, the word escaped her...than it looked like on the holos. She staggered upright, leaning on the same pillar that had delivered said blow to the head. Violence was brewing, or had brewed, or would continue to brew. And/or, not or. And.

Concussion, said the part of her that remained lucid. Spinal reinforcement didn't do quite enough for your brain bouncing around in your armored skull. It's why when you go up against plate armor, you don't want a sword; you want a mace.

She staggered for the nearest exit, a bit of a challenge since people were screaming and running. The sapient current swept her along. This facility wouldn't see operability anytime soon.

 

[Daiya]

Objective 1: Waltz for the Weary Worker
Tags: Shira Varanin Maxer Shagar Zamas Nall Ripley Kühn

[Post Soundtrack: "Skeleton Key" by Dessa]​

She hit the duracrete floor just as the blast wave of the explosion reached the tiny shelter the office had to offer. It smacked her down hard, and the girl connected with the unforgiving flooring in a way that was decisively unfriendly. The important thing was that Daiya was alive, and as she picked herself up —a bit unsteadily— from the floor, her first instinct was to check that she could stay that way. Body parts were all in place, she didn't feel any huge amount of pain, and the only injuries she seemed to have acquired were cuts along her cheek from the burrs and cracks in the duracrete floor. Just a few more souvenirs from this mission to take home with her, that's all.

Daiya shook her head, using the doorframe of the office as a brace while surveying the damage. The pit-boss named Bluto was dead, and the cyborg supervisor was taking full advantage of the floor promotion. It looked like he and the Jedi were about to show off their Force Wizardry in a battle, one that the girl had no desire to stick around for. She tossed her gaze around, spying Shira getting herself off the ground, and the throng of people heading for doors that now refused to open for them.

Meanwhile, a thin cloud of white powder was slowly settling over the fallout zone from the blast.

The girl pulled up the collar of her jumpsuit over her nose and mouth, trying not to breath in as much of the aerosolized drugs. Part of her wanted to stay and watch the fight between the Jedi and the cyborg, she had never seen Forcers fight each other with their laser swords. It was a very, very small part, and one that was easily dismissed.

Instead, Daiya rushed to Shira's side, trying to support the staggering woman by bringing her shoulder up under the woman's arm. Concern laced her voice as she asked, "Are you okay?"

Well, that was a dumb question. Of course she wasn't okay, not with the way Shira was lurching with her off-balanced gait.

"Can you make it to the doors?" The young shadowrunner thought that was a better question to ask. But stealing a glance at Shira's face made her question if the Forcer was even going to be capable of answering. The woman's eyes weren't quite focused, and it seemed like she wasn't all there. Chit. Daiya could only support a portion of Shira's weight, the woman had at least fifteen kilos on her, and the teen wasn't going to be able to carry her if Shira collapsed. "I sure hope you can..."

Daiya tried to help Shira towards the doors. By now, they were crowded with people shouting and clawing at the controls, shorted out in the wrong position by a malicious burn that cut right through the panel. The girl stared, bewildered, at the state of the controls and what could have caused it. She didn't have long to hesitate, though, trying to stay balanced with a crowd of people pushing at them as they tried to break down the doors through sheer, brute force.

Luckily, no one was paying the controls themselves much mind, so Daiya aimed the woman that way. After all, Shira was a cyborg, too. She could just hook up to the door panel and hack their way out, right? At least, that's how it worked in the holos all the time. Or maybe that was just the logic brought on by the haze of drugs that was still lazily settling to the floor. "Shira, which one of your a-mazing arms can fix this? We have to get the doors open? Do I just hook up wires or something? Tell me what to do!"

 

[Shira Varanin]

The desperation in Daiya 's final question spiked through the haze of concussion and drugs. Shira took a quaking breath and stood free. Her stripped-down, dirtied-up cybernetics didn't have many bells and whistles left, but they were still strong - arms, legs, spinal reinforcement. She took a shaky step and wedged her metal fingertips in the seam of the door. Decrepit servos wailed, buckling the walls on either side. She threw her back into it, nose almost touching the door. The locking mechanism snapped free inside with a reverberating PING that was barely a ping at all. The door jolted open three inches.

Someone shoved her aside, wedged a lever into the gap, and got yanking. She took the shove with only a grumbled complaint, an artifact of her guise here and also the concussion.

She fumbled around for an answer for Daiya, and couldn't find one.

 

[Kadora'Tra]

Their tactics were as simple as they were effective, the hostile gangbangers falling into chaos as they were assailed from the front - and the suddenly exposed rear. Typical, this lot rarely had the discipline to maintain cohesion in a life and death situation. They were fierce, but not coordinated.

Unleashing a stream of lethal blaster bolts at the exposed hostiles alongside the CorpSec officer, he noted with some annoyance just how much of their volleys went astray. As expected, the swoop bikes' blasters were potent enough but lacked the professional calibration he was used to. No matter, half of battle was dealing with the limitations of his side, the other half exploiting his enemies'.

"I've got motion on the side, the workers and some of the grunts are already running for it. Push them from the other end, we want them gone."

Even if they opted to stand their ground in the wastes later, they'd be abandoning their cover to do so, giving the Kyber Khans the clear advantage; he found it more likely that they'd grab what bikes they could and run, however. Would make the door-to-door fighting to follow easier.

Kadora'Tra​

The blaster bolts whirled through the air, and just barely managed to hit the broadside of the the barn - stables, whatever - and singed the material. It didn't really catch fire like she was hoping, but obviously she hadn't poured enough firepower into it. Luckily, she had come prepared for this eventuality as the gangers knew what to pack when you wanted to torch the place. Pulling from an accessible storage compartment loosely hanging from her bike, she pulled out something like a glass bottle with liquid and cloth. As she sped past the building she threw the bottle at where she managed to hit. Hopefully the liquid was enough along with the charred blaster holes would ignite a blaze for her in the near-desert heat.

As she got farther away from the stables, she angled her speeder and braked to whip its tail around so she was facing the stables again. She saw what Sarvod Dravis saw, the fleeing cowards trying very badly to go unnoticed in their retreat even as their stupider brethren tried to fight back ineffectively on foot against racing speeders. At this point, the forward attack was beginning to circle the area but maintained their distance from the back where she was handling the situation.

With a smile, she brought out her whip and speed through the gang-yard like an obstacle course, whipping poor sods along the way until she was once again on the other side of the stables. She began blasting about where she thought she doused the building with that flammable liquid, relishing a bit in the moment as it ignited. As the building caught fire, inaccurate blaster fire whipped past her while she was momentarily stationary. With bared teeth she hissed in the direction of the bolt involuntarily, and blasted forward for another pass though the yard...

 

[Zamas Nall]

"Oh, I don't think so," replied Zamas, as he brought both his blades to meet the strike of his opponent. It was way too long since he had experienced a proper lightsaber fight, and he planned to enjoy this one. There were few force sensitive individuals in the systems controlled by the Corporations, and next to none who owned lightsabers. And besides, if there were any, it wouldn't be Zamas who was sent to deal with them.

The two combatants had their lightsabers locked together, before Zamas redirected his opponents blades, and took a step back. "I see you have great skill in the force, but how well can you use the blade?" He continued with a barrage of swift strikes from different angles, trying to stay offensive, to learn how his opponent would react. The reach of the Sephi's blades were limited, duo to both being shotos, but in a close combat like this, they worked fine. He had designed his new blades this way because he would often have to deal with situations in smaller space, and a normal sized blade would only be a hinderance in such situations.

For a moment, he stopped the barrage of attacks. "I was once one of you, a Jedi. I lived among the order, before I cast myself out. That life gave me little, but Denon gave me everything." Right after he finished talking, he swung his right blade horizontally towards Maxer, before quickly using his other blade to do a Falling Avalanche maneuver, trying to overpower the human. "But they served their purpose in teaching me their fighting forms."

Engaging: Maxer Shagar
Nearby: Daiya | Shira Varanin

 

[Maxer Shagar]

OBJECTIVE 1

If this guy thought that he had great skill in the force, he was going to be blown away by his skill with a blade. Unbeknownst to his opponent, combat force abilities was one of his weaker skills. With the exception of force speed and acrobatics, his general competence with force abilities was only at a passable level. Enough for knighthood, but not even close to mastery. His dueling ability however, more than compensated for that weakness.

As his opponent went on the offense, Maxer backed up and danced around his range. Using his slightly longer reach he blocked and parried attacks primarily with his full blade, using tiny, quick movements to defend against two blades at once. This left his shoto free to dart in for quick blows whenever he saw an opening, or quickly redirect attacks that got too close.

There was a sudden lull in the fight but Maxer remained on the defense, expecting a trick. Instead, the cyborg took the time to state that he used to be a Jedi. He couldn’t hide the slight widening of his eyes in surprise at the reveal, because while he had known it to be a possibility, he honestly hadn't been expecting it. Though it seemed obvious now considering how the cyborg was holding his own. However, if he was expecting sympathy or hesitation from Maxer because of his former status, he would be disappointed. It only made him a more appealing target for capture.

He didn’t verbalize any of these thoughts. “You talk too much.” He grunted instead, right before the fallen avalanche descended.

He didn’t bother trying to block the blow, he knew his strengths and didn’t want to risk being overpowered. He rolled to the right and leapt up, kicking off the wall and aiming a blow towards his opponent’s head with both blades. However, it was only a feint. At the last second, he used his enhanced speed to rapidly fall to his knees and lunge into a low strike instead, followed by a flowing water cut if his opponent made the mistake of trying to withdraw backwards.

Engaging: Zamas Nall
Nearby: Daiya Shira Varanin

 

[Daiya]

Objective 1: Waltz for the Weary Worker
Tags: Shira Varanin Maxer Shagar Zamas Nall Ripley Kühn

[Post Soundtrack: "New Kings" by Sleeping Wolf]​

The crowd pushed and shoved, the mob mentality driving their base instincts to their lowest. Daiya silently implored Shira to hurry up, or else being jostled and bruised was going to be the least of their concerns. Her pleas and plaintive expression must have clicked somewhere in the cyborg woman's head, and the girl watched with astonishment as Shira began to physically pry apart the durasteel doors trapping the workers inside their pen.

"You're doing it!" Daiya shouted encouragement. Others seemed to notice the efforts, and someone brought forward a lever to serve as a pry bar. Shira was shoved toward the girl, who caught the battered cyborg in her arms. She winced at the pain that laced through the arm of her injured wrist, and it crumpled under the weight, nearly costing the girl her balance as woman dropped back against her shoulder. It was really only due to the crowd pressing against her back that Daiya didn't fall.

The pressure let up almost immediately after the doors were opened enough to start letting workers through. Daiya drew in a breath, and coughed against the still-present dust of fine drugs and debris particles in the air. Better than being squeezed to death, she figured. She was still of the mind to help Shira as the crowd began to stream out of the doors, and Daiya idly wondered how far away real medical attention was. But just as soon as the girl helped the cyborg woman through, her attention was drawn to a group that had siphoned off of the main crowd.

"What are you doing?" she asked one of the workers, a young man she had only seen in passing a few times. He had seemed kind enough then. Now his eyes bore red rims, and the girl could see tired lines drawn down the side of an irate face. Yet his appearance wasn't nearly as alarming as his words.

"No guards means we can grab their stuff. Equipment, weapons..."

Weapons? Daiya turned with alarm to see some of the workers passing out just that to their colleagues. Hard-faced scrappers and packers were now wearing protective gear of the ones who used to keep them in line. Blasters and stun-batons once used as threats —or demonstrations— of violence were now primed to be wielded against their former users.

"Hold on!" The girl was in little position to stop them. Nonetheless, the sight of a small, teenage girl accosting their purpose gave enough of them pause to draw attention. Daiya looked at the assembled posse, concerned that she may have just equipped a mob for their particular form of justice. "Are you just going to go around killing the Kyber Khans now? Do you know who you're crossing by doing that?"

"If they don't get in our way, we won't have to kill them," one of the posse asserted, leading to sounds of the others agreeing. "This is our factory now. We're going to run it without gangs, or their corporate masters, from now on."

So not quite mob justice, but a worker's revolt. Daiya rocked back on her heels for a moment. It wasn't quite as bad, and the job details did say to make a bold statement for some bonus pay. It would be hard for anyone to deny that workers taking over their factory was pretty bold.

"And the drugs?" Daiya questioned. She was already starting to feel the effect of the unrefined version that she had blasted into the air earlier. It gave her a strong sense of will and empowerment, like the feeling that she would personally take down anyone who wanted the drug trade to continue out of this factory.

"Kark 'em, it's a dirty trade," their impromptu spokesperson declared. He made a move as if to spit on the floor, his disdain for the subject obvious. "We make our creds from scrap, not hooking children on the next back-alley high."

Daiya set her jaw. She was young, she was too small for some of the armor gear, but feth it if she wasn't feeling invincible right now!

If this was the drugs talking, she might as well take advantage while she could. Shira could fend for herself for a while, right?

"Toss me a blaster, I still have one good hand to shoot with."

—F I N—​

 

[Zamas Nall]

Fighting: Maxer Shagar
Nearby: Daiya | Shira Varanin

"Oh, do I now?"

The reply came in synchonization with the Fallen Avalanche. Maxer's counter to it was unexpected, but not shockingly so. Zamas quickly recovered from the momentum of the attack, and brought his blades up to deflect any move his opponent might make. When he saw that the human was launching himself from the wall towards him, Zamas recognized the mistake at once. It was a good idea, to utilise one's environment like that, but not in this situation. The Sephi thought about stepping backwards, but instinctivly moved to the side, and deflected the blade that came near hitting his torso. But he immediatly felt pain in one of his legs. Lookikng down, it was clear that the other blade of Maxer had hit it's mark.

Zamas staggered a step backwards from the wound, though he soon discovered it wasn't as bad as it at first had seemed. The two combatants stood a few meters from each other now, and it gave Zamas the opportunity to see what was happening at the other side of the room. The workers were rebelling. Not just a few, but all of them. With the supervisors being preoccupied by the attack, and their "leader" being dead, the workers now had free reing over the factory. It was lost, Zamas knew as much. But in the long run, it wouldn't be a big one.

"It seems my business here has concluded, and I must regretably end our duel. Such a shame, I so rarely get to fight someone competent these days." The Sephi took a quick jump backwards, and used the force to ignite some flamable containers that had survived the primary explosion, to cover his escape. "So long, Jedi." He put extra emphasis on the word Jedi. With all the doors leading out being locked or swarmed by rebel workers, the only way out was through one of the windows, far up on the wall. Zamas jumped, and boosted it with the force, and cut through the glass with his lightsaber. As he jumped out of the factory, he contacted the Bursar.

"The attack came, as we expected. The factory is lost. But I've found out something: the Jedi are helping our dear terrorists."

 

[Maxer Shagar]

OBJECTIVE 1 - COMPLETE?

As his opponent began yet another speech, Maxer could sense what was coming. As soon as the other finished talking and leapt, he was right on his heels. But this time, for all his speed, all he managed to catch was an exploding canister to the face. Pure instinct had him turning away and throwing up a force push to try and offset the explosion. He flew back, the push enough to redirect the worst damage but not strong enough to stop momentum. He landed several feet away in a crouch and quickly slid to his feet, panting heavily. He could feel that his left side was slightly singed but it seemed his reflexes had saved him this time.

No sign of his opponent though, only the sound of a window shattering above him. Damn it. He sheathed his lightsabers and used the force to scale the wall, pushing off at the top and shattering a window with the force right before he went careening through it. He landed in a pile of shattered glass on the factory floor, ready to tear after his opponent. However, as he scanned the room the cyborg was nowhere to be found.

Instead he was greeted with the sight of the factory quickly dissolving into chaos. In the short time he had been fighting, the workers had revolted. Rebels had armed themselves and were now commencing a hostile takeover, and it was apparent that the gang was rapidly losing control. It wouldn’t be long before the factory was lost. As he stood and brushed off some shattered glass a nearby worker turned. Their eyes widened as soon as they saw the singed supervisor uniform he was wearing. Uh oh. “Hey!” They shouted, signaling to some of their friends. “Over there!” Uh Oh. Time to make himself scarce.

He waved his hand and used the force to conceal himself, gently nudging the workers mind to look away as he backed into the shadows along the back wall. The worker suddenly paused and looked around in bafflement, as if his target had disappeared right before his eyes. Maxer wasted no time and took off, heading outside and away from the factory.

As he made it to a nearby roof he was suddenly filled with the feeling of dread at the thought of writing this report. Not only had he failed to capture his original target alive, he had then allowed the one who killed him to escape. Thankfully one couldn’t be fired from being a shadow, cause he was pretty sure this would do it. At least his identity hadn’t been compromised. The cyborg former-Jedi had obviously known something was up but without hard evidence, the SJC could deny their involvement all they liked. And the fact that the gang no longer controlled the factory was a plus, though who knows if a bunch of revolting workers would be any better.

He sighed. This had been the opposite of a quiet mission, Darkwire had seen to that. Actually, now that he thought about it, most of the mission had gone awry because of Darkwire. He mentally noted that if they were to ever work together again, he needed to watch out for explosives. Even so, their help had been much appreciated. He hoped the two girls he was with him were safe. They probably were, considering what he had seen in their short time together, it seemed like they could take care of themselves. So now all he had to do was contact the Jedi. Yay. This was totally going to go great. He sighed again as looked back at the factory. He was so fired.

Thanks for cool posts tags: Daiya Shira Varanin Zamas Nall

 

[Sarvod Dravis]

As a mercenary, he had expected to be saddled with the destructive work, but it turned out the CorpSec officer was enjoying the opportunity to let her hair down and maim or murder some criminals without having to worry about proper protocol or the subsequent paperwork. Not that CorpSec had that high of a bar when it came to homicidal solutions, at least in his experience. Overt action was bad for business, however.

Angling his bike away from the site, he jumped off, unholstered his rifle, and set out to provide overwatch for her harrying. No sooner had he gotten into position than blaster bolts began flying in her general direction, fortunately missing. Eying the trio of thugs dubiously, he adjusted his scope with clinical precision, stabilised his breath, activated his targeting implants... and turned a head into a crater.

Taking his time as the survivors scrambled into cover, he calmly resighted, waited until a foot poked out from cover during their scrambling, and then promptly reduced it to a charred stump. "Bloody amateurs - and ours aren't much better. I hope you're only using them as expendables."

It was the only thing criminals were good for, more often than not, at least in his professional opinion.

Kadora'Tra​