First Reply Oil Paint and Blast Wounds

[Razmir Tezhyn]

// The storyline (a heist) takes place during a battle on some world along the Alliance-Mando border. The exact place and time aren't really relevant, but feel free to introduce details and specifics as desired. To keep in spirit with the current lore I wanted a Mandalorian raid as the set dressing and cover for the heist, feel free to have fun with that as you want. The object of the heist is a cache of intelligence data disks and experimental tech, though only Alliance personnell would actually be aware of what's being held here. That this place is being targeted by Mandalorians is purely coincidental.

---

Razmir sipped stimcaf as he watched the terror of impending doom strike the people into panic right in time for his chrono to hit 00:00.

The yelling below was barely audible through the cafe's second-story windows. The streets didn't clear quickly as the crowd descended into chaos and every person began to scramble for cover, pulling their loved ones with them and knocking over a few shocked souls that simply stood in shock to gaped upward. There a few dozen warships descended from the skies, dodging the staccato fire of Alliance air-defense cannons. The waiter he'd called over stood similarly transfixed and in shock next to Raz' table, still holding the bill for the caf.

The panic created by the Mandalorian raid quickly reached the people inside the diner, who shuffled from their seats and down the stairs toward the crowded diner exit. Razmir figured they had designated shelters or safe-houses to seek out. The Alliance seemed like it would have government-mandated regulations or ten-point protocols in place for its citizens in the event of hostile incursions. Force knew their senate would have had time and opportunity enough to pass such bills.

Sensing the need to make his own exit, Razmir finished his cup of stimcaf and glanced at his bill, still held between the waiter's fingers. The poor lad's attention was fixed on the battle commencing outside. He didn't notice as Raz quietly stood and walked away, even going so far as to palm the man's wallet as he casually followed the crowd exiting the diner. Raz doubted the man would notice any time soon.

He left the diner, weaving through people in a scrambling crowd headed the opposite direction he needed to go. His target, the administration building up ahead, stood at the head of a three-way junction that was quickly clearing out.

Above the warships had descended deep into the atmosphere and Razmir could make out small swarms of objects detaching from them if he squinted. He considered a moment if it was chaff or debris, but quickly settled that it must have been people jumping from the ship's hangar bays, fully suited up with jetpacks strapped to their backs for a controlled free-fall. Mandalorians tended to favour dynamic entries. He followed one group as the individual warriors dodged between streaks of defense cannons and still kept their formation with practiced ease.

<Tezhyn, are you in position?> A voice in his ear interrupted his study of Mandalorian battle tactics.

Razmir pulled his comm-link from his pocket to reply.

"I'm approaching the target as we speak," he said.

The target in question was the local sector administration building where, if his source was to be believed, a valuable shipment would be held for transition. What was inside, well, Raz wasn't quite sure himself, but he'd been assured by trustworthy sources it would be valuable.

<Good, we can't afford any delays. Your man had good intel, but we're still working on a tight schedule here.> The voice, feminine and with a slight Rylothian accent, replied.

"Don't you worry about me. No job's ever gone south because of something I did," Raz said, smiling.

His only sign of acknowledgement was an exasperated groan through the commlink as his partner closed the line to coordinate with the rest of their team.

Raz kept a pleasant smile as he walked across the plaza, the only one still in the open, toward the set of stone stairs that led up to the sector admin-building's entrance.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

Razmir approached the front door of the admin building digging his hands into his pockets. It took less than ten steps for the two guards on the other side of the front-door transparisteel to notice him. The pair wore full Alliance combat armor, likely more for show than anything, and carried some serious blaster rifles. They stepped outside to intercept Razmir as he climbed the final step, their blasters at the ready.

"Halt, this is a restricted area. If you're looking for shelter there are-" The man began, but Raz cut him off.

"I'm not here because of that," he feigned annoyance, digging out an ID card he promptly shoved at one of the guards. "I'm with the Marshalls, here on appointment about a suspect."

"Can't you see there's an attack going on?" The guard snapped back. "How do you expect to meet with an official when they're all evacuating to a bunker!"

The other guard, meanwhile, took the ID card from Razmir and began to inspect it with his datapad.

"I'll wait inside until they're back then! Do you have any idea how long it took to get this appointment?" Raz played up his annoyance, placing his hands on his hips as he stood a little taller to match the guard's height. Blast, why'd they have to make them that tall? He thought.

The guard began his response when the other one tapped on his arm.

"The pad says it's clear," he started. "But I don't remember Shoan mentioning any Marshals on the schedule. It's very irregular, we'll need to-"

An explosion a few blocks down seized the guards' attention, and Razmir took that moment to push on their emotions. He still hadn't figured out why he could do this when he'd proven too weak to utilize the Force, but he didn't let minor details like that distract him. He pushed on the men's fears of the battle and reduced their suspicion towards the familiar. If he'd done it right, the men's concern for getting this interaction over with and return to safety inside the building would overrule their need to further scrutinize one of their own with, seemingly, valid credentials.

The guard returned his ID card, raising his blaster slightly though not directly at Raz. His attention was still on the sound of blast impacts rattling buildings in the distance.

"Can we talk about clerical errors from your secretary inside, please?" Raz gave the guards another push.

The pair hesitated a moment, clearly torn between the mundane security concerns of proper appointment procedure and the very real Mandalorian raid targeting the city around them.

While they continued their deliberation, Raz stowed the ID card back in his coat pocket, then let his hand fall on the vibro knife hidden next to it. He watched their heads swivel from the city back to him, their expressions hidden behind plastoid and transparisteel. His fingers curled around the knife's hilt. The leather felt warm to the touch, its rough surface scraping against his skin.

"Alright alright," the guard finally relented, and Raz let go of the knife. "Get inside and we can talk this through."

"Thank you," Razmir smiled and obliged the guard as he flanked Razmir with his fellow and escorted him inside the administration building.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

Beyond the doors, the foyer turned out to be a grand hall with several doors on either side and a staircase leading up to walkways on the second story that disappeared into even more rooms. In addition to the two guards flanking Raz there was another squad on the other side of a security checkpoint. The checkpoint split the hall in two sections, separated by a waist-high barricade of improvised furniture that was broken up at one point by an energy-stanchion.

Without the civilians and clerks busying themselves around the counters and waiting areas, Raz noted how empty the space seemed. It gave the distinct impression of a Manor's entrance hall on a day when no guests were to be received, too much space wasted on looking nice. Though, perhaps this had once been a manor. He'd heard one of the guides on his shuttle explain that most buildings had been repurposed at one point or another.

The helmet-modulated voice of the guard broke him from the admiration.

"That's far enough," the first guard, the one who'd checked his ID, called out to Raz. His voice had a quiet echo in the space.

Raz stopped and turned back to find them still lingering by the doorway.

"Aren't we going inside?" Razmir asked with some faux confusion.

"We already are," the other guard replied, clearly not amused. "Just stay somewhere we can keep an eye on you, we'll have to report in that we have a Marshal coming for a visit."

The guard grumbled something as he turned away and started talking into the comms device on his wrist.

Well that's not going to work, Raz thought.

He considered a moment, taking a head count of the guards beyond the checkpoint. There were six of them, each similarly armed and armored as the two by the door. That made eight in total, which were odds he didn't like the sound of. Now, he was good with a blaster, but not that good, especially fighting an uphill battle surrounded by men and women clearly much better armored than himself.

<Tezhyn,> the comlink in his coat pocket piped up, making Raz almost jump. He quickly pulled the comlink from his jacket and turned the volume down, hiding his action with a cough.

<Do you have one yet? We're kind of waiting on you here,> the voice, a brilliant slicer going by Yeza, continued.

He did his best to look as innocent as possible as he sauntered up to a pillar so he would be facing away from the eight armored Alliance troops scrutinizing his every move while he replied.

"Working on it," he whispered. "Give me another minute."

<One minute, but then we'll have no buffer left in the schedule. Hurry up,> Yeza replied.

"Yeah, yeah-" Raz began, then heard the distinct clacking of plastoid boots on stone approaching him from behind.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Came the modulated voice. It was the first guard, who'd checked his ID, his cordial tone had hardened to project that soldierly authority again.

Raz slipped the comlink into his coat again, muffling whatever Yeza's question was, then turned around and gave the man his best smile.

The guard had obviously noticed Raz slip something into his coat, and shuffled as he tensed up, expecting a confrontation. His movements raised his rifle to be almost at a ready position. He motioned at Raz' coat with his rifle.

"Show me what you got in there," he ordered. "Might as well get the search over with while we wait."

Raz gave the man a cordial smile and nodded.

"Of course," he said, then began to oblige the man, reaching slowly to reveal the inside pockets on his coat.

"Though, I believe that's my cue," he continued, and sprang into action.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

Razmir grabbed a hold of the rifle, taking advantage of the guard's surprise to push it into his chin with as much force as he could muster. It connected with a loud crack that echoed in the wide hall. Shouts erupted from the other guards, and the sound of blaster rifles clicking against plasteel sounded as they readied their weapons.

Razmir paid them little mind and twisted the guard's wrist enough to break it, causing him to drop the rifle to the floor. Then he ducked low to kick the guard's feet out from under him. His boot met the plasteel shin-guard and the guard's leg snapped free of the ground. At the same time, Razmir grabbed the guard by the gaps in his chestplate and let himself fall backwards, keeping the guard close to end up with the armored man on top of him as they crashed against the stone floor.

His back hit the stone with a thud, but it was the weight of the guard that knocked the wind out of him. With the armor the guard weighed almost twice as much as an ordinary man.

Raz grunted as he reached for the pocket of his coat where he'd stowed the comlink, taking advantage of the momentary daze the guard was recovering from. He thumbed the transmitter through the fabric, twice. The signal for the rest of his crew to step in.

Right as the guard on top of him began to regain his bearings, an explosion ripped through the wall a few paces behind them. Chunks of stone were sent flying through the hall, several of them falling against the guard's armour where they dented it. Mostly they bounced off harmlessly, turning the guard into a living shield for Raz as he weathered the explosion. A thick cloud of smoke rolled into the hall a moment later. It began to cover his entire side of the hall beneath the second-story walkway.

There was only a moment's pause before red and blue lines of blaster fire began cutting through the air right above Razmir and the guard. Raz kept a low profile, holding onto the guard, as he began to twist their position to lock the man into a Teräs Käsi hold. After the explosion and the stone, the guard had only the smallest resistance in him as Razmir twisted his legs around his shoulder joint and pulled. Hard.

The guard's scream came distorted through his helmet, cutting through the cacophony of blaster fire, as his right arm broke with a wet crunch.

Razmir relaxed the tension of his hold enough to give the man some room to breathe. He didn't want him dead, just incapacitated, and with the adrenaline rushing through his system he didn't trust himself enough not to cross that line.

Around them the blaster rounds began to die down right as the smoke started clearing. Raz could make out the second squad of guards slumped lifeless against the makeshift barricade, and another one by the entrance. A quick count confirmed the number accounted for every guard he remembered seeing upon entering the building.

"Good work," Razmir called out behind him to the three figures emerging from the breach in the wall.

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

First through the breach, as usual, stepped Carver. The defel had donned heavy armor that made his already imposing height even more intimidating, and that was before one mentioned the massive repeating blaster he held braced against his shoulder. Some smoke still rose from its barrel, likely the tool that had taken most of the guards unaware. Carver liked his dramatic entrances.

Behind him Crowbeak cautiously checked his corners with the longrifle he held before he entered the hall proper. The black-beaked Sathari had red feathers and a penchant for being overly cautious. Though, that very trait made him one of the best crackshots Raz had ever had the pleasure of working with. And he had a mean poker face at Sabbac, to boot.

Last through the breach was Cardinal. The solemn-faced human was the tallest of the three, though the least imposing. He didn't have any blasters on him. Instead, he'd taken up two tall energy shields, one mounted to his forearm and the other to a mechanical appendage by his shoulder. In his off-hand he held a large wrench. Out of all of them, Cardinal had always been the most mysterious of the crew, but that didn't hinder him from having a mean right hook. When push came to shove, Raz had always been able to rely on the man to put out the fires.

Carver came to a halt next to Raz, who was still entangled in restraining the last living guard.

"That this friend of yours you mentioned, Raz?" Carver's hoarse voice came distorted through his helmet speakers, adding another unsettling layer to the man's impression.

Raz pulled on the guard's arm again to keep him from struggling too much, eliciting a long groan of pain.

"This here is our key into the datavault," Raz spoke with effort.

"Want me to lend a hand there?" Carver said. Raz could practically hear the smile in Carver's voice at the prospect of getting his hands on the last living enemy combatant. That much was typical. Once Carver got into a blood-hungry mood it could be difficult to snap him out of it again.

"He clearly has the situation under control," Crowbeak interjected from the side, finally stepping up to survey the wider hall.

"Ah, you just want to keep me from having fun, lieutenant killjoy," Carver replied.

Cardinal stepped between them, holding up his hands.

"Please, let's focus on the mission," Cardinal's voice was more soothing than intimidating. It usually was.

"Right," Carver replied, looking around the hall. "Where was it we were going again?"

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

---

Razmir slipped his bloodied knife back into the sheath as a series of quiet clicks came from the security door. The final guard lay slumped against it, blood pooling beneath his lifeless body. A few moments later, the durasteel door hissed and unlocked, swinging open. The guard dropped to the side, smearing blood across the floor.

Carver shoved their hostage guard away from the security panel and past his fallen comrade. The guard had proven uncooperative, but that didn't end up mattering once they had reached the hand-print sensor. He had managed little more than the token resistance expected of him since he'd been dragged back to his feet with a limp, broken arm at his side. The sight of his dead comrade didn't seem to stir much out of him either.

Raz stepped in after Carver and the guard, followed by Cardinal. That left Crowbeak outside, covering their exit.

The vault itself wasn't a very impressive one, which was to be expected of a building used mainly for administrative purposes. A few cabinets lined the walls while a small table at the back wall held a pile of datacards and a briefcase.

Raz stepped up to the briefcase.

"That's what we came here for?" Carver grunted. The disappointment in his voice was more than obvious.

"This is the den of bureaucrats, Carv. Were you expecting a bank vault?" Raz said, nodding his head to indicate he needed the guard closer.

Carver muscled the man toward the desk, pinning him against the durasteel.

"No, I guess after all the trouble we went through to get in here I wasn't expecting a bunch of dusty records," Carver said.

Raz shrugged. Some of the information inside this room would likely get them a decent sum on the darker corners of the holonet, but that wasn't what they had come for.

"Hold him still for me, eh?" Razmir said, indicating the guard.

The man turned his head to look at Raz, finally mustering the courage to slur some words.

"I'm not...helping you. Might as well...get it over with...and kill me already," he said through ragged breaths.

"Kill you? My dear man you're much more valuable to us alive," Raz replied, smiling at the man.

He could hear the guard groan the start of a response, but whatever he would have said was cut off when Raz grabbed hold of his broken arm.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry you aren't left handed. It's going to make this next part hurt a lot more than it had to," Raz said.

Raz pulled the man's arm toward the briefcase. He placed his weight on the arm to keep it steady, eliciting a pained groan, then grabbed the guard's wrist to force his hand onto the briefcase's handle. The guard's fingers hung mostly limp, but with some miracle of strength, the guard made it difficult for Raz to get his hand to wrap around the handle. Carver was doing his best to keep the man from struggling too much.

Raz waved for Cardinal to join them. The tall man sighed and detached a small wiry device from his belt.

"Keep breathing, now, this next part's going to be quite unpleasant," Raz words came strained as he tried his best to keep the guard's hand on top of the briefcase handle.

For a wounded man with a broken arm the guard turned out to have quite a bit of energy left to make this more difficult than it had to be.

Cardinal walked over and, carefully, placed the device on the guard's hand. It was a special tool custom-made for this exact job. It was a thin mesh of metal and wires that wrapped around a person's hand which resembled shockboxing gloves that had their padding stripped away until only the wiring remained.

Razmir exchanged a glance with Cardinal, who seemed anything but enthused by the whole ordeal. He'd always been the softest out of them.

Raz nodded and Cardinal engaged the device.

The guard yelled a string of curses as his hand clenched up and closed around the handle of the briefcase. Razmir let go of the man's hand, but didn't move away entirely to keep the guard's arm secured.

"Don't worry, there won't be any permanent nerve damage," Raz explained. "My friend here made sure of that, didn't you Card?"

"Yes, the current causing the muscles in your hand to seize up is set low enough that no damage to the underlying tissue should occur," Cardinal said reluctantly.

Cardinal turned to Razmir, continuing in a lower voice.

"Was this really necessary?" He looked genuinely uncomfortable by the whole ordeal.

"You heard Yeza," Razmir replied, flat. "This thing has some sort of biometric trigger mechanism.

"Our friend here won't open it, but he can at least carry it to someone who can without wiping out everything that's stored inside. She said it's something about his biometrics being in the Alliance database. That stuff went over my head," Raz shrugged.

"Point is, we need him. And we need him alive."

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

---

From the air of jubilation aboard the Blackthorn Razmir deduced the Mandalorian's raid had gone well. Barely an hour had passed since he'd watched their warships appear in the sky to widespread panic from the citizenry. Now, he stood aboard one of those warships, hands clasped behind his back, and watched the administration building be reduced to rubble by turbolaser fire through a bridge viewport. The unconscious body of the single surviving guard of that building sat chained to one of the chairs nearby, hand still forcibly curled around the briefcase.

Loud footsteps of metal clanging on metal approached from behind. The figure spoke, their voice heavily distorted by the helmet, but Razmir could place it well enough.

Admiral Kryze.

"You and yours did good work down there," the Admiral spoke, coming to stand next to the guard.

Razmir turned to face her. Even without the armor she usually towered over him, the only person actually taller than her being Cardinal. She struck an imposing figure with her warspear and the barely-dried blood splatters covering large parts of her armor.

"Why is that still attached to the case?" She asked gesturing at the guard. Her visor turned to meet Raz' gaze.

"It has a failsafe built in that would have destroyed the contents if we didn't keep him around to hold the thing. My slicer could-" Razmir was cut off.

"Don't bore me with the details. He needs to be alive for this?" The Admiral asked.

"Yes," Razmir replied.

She regarded the unconscious man for a moment, then gestured for one of her warriors to pick the guard up. Raz watched the sorry man be dragged off the Blackthorn's bridge, part of him wondering how much longer he'd get to keep his life. The Mandalorians had some techs of their own, though he knew that the Admiral's warband had recently lost some of theirs.

"If you need someone to crack the lock, I can have-"

"My people will handle it," the Admiral cut Razmir off. "You're dismissed. I have coordinates in Wild Space where I want you to wait until I give you further instructions."

"Are you going to come through on payment at least? I need to compensate the-"

Pain flared through Razmir's head as a loud crack echoed. The bridge spun through blurry vision, and it took him a moment to notice he'd dropped to the floor against the bulkhead. The Admiral stood over him with a gauntleted hand pointing down at him, smeared on the side with some blood. Razmir's blood. The Admiral had backhanded him, he realized belatedly.

Razmir held the side of his head, which pounded with a deep, throbbing pain. He could feel warm liquid against his palm.

"What you need," the Admiral snapped at him, "is to keep running errands for me whenever and wherever I tell you to. Are we clear?"

The Admiral towered over him. Razmir felt his pride gnawing at him as anger flared in his chest. He scowled at the armored figure. Part of him wanted to draw knives and avenge his wounded pride, but the rational-thinking part of him knew he'd be signing his own death sentence if he tried.

"Are we clear?" The Admiral said again, with new menace in her voice.

"Clear as day," Razmir spat some blood.