Sith. Mandos. Bar. Boom.

[Lord Ghoul]

@[member="Jorn Mair"], @[member="Verz Horak"], @[member="Mia Monroe"], @RC 212, @[member="Bard of the Hyperlanes"] @[member="John Harrison"]
OOC: More untagged Mandos and Mercenaries feel free to join in as well.

On the planet of Mandalore, Mikhail Shorn pushed open the door to the bar and strode inside. The dimly lit interior reflected a great many armored beings inside. Mandos. A lot of them. Some of the armor markings Mikhail recognized. Some he didn't. It wouldn't matter, not for what he had in mind.

The raven haired Sith made no effort to hide his identity. Darkness billowed from him like an adumbrate fog in the Force. Clad in a leather jacket, simple black pants and a shirt of the same, Shorn did not seem imposing. At least, not when compared to the beskar of the warriors crowding the bar. Except for his eyes. The pale blues flickered with a mischievous light.

Mikhail came with singular intentions. Access to Mandalore hadn't been hard. The Empire was no longer at war with the Mando'ade. At least, for now. Mikhail planned to change that. Here. Now. Why? Mikhail himself didn't really know. Because he could. Because he was bored. Or most likely, he just wanted to watch the galaxy in flames. That and he hated Mandos with a passion.

In his right hand, a violet blade sprang to life with a snap-hiss.

"So a Sith walks into a bar full of Mandos."

 

[Verz Horak]

There was no hesitation when the lightsaber blade was activated. The whole bar reacted, all of the Mandalorians that were armed, which was a majority of them, pulled out blasters or vibro blades. Some even slipped on cruchgaunts. Verz had been having a quiet drink when the blade was activated. In an instant, memories from the not so distant Mando-Sith war flashed through his head. Verz got up, facing the Sith, blaster pistol in hand. "And he gets shredded. Did you really grow such a large ego that you think you can survive survive this? Or are you using that saber to compensate for something?"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"What, oh this thing?" He waggled the saber at Verz. "Hmm, you might have a point."

Of course, Verz Horak knew nothing of the weapon held in Shorn's hand. Derriphan was a vile blade. More than that, it was the Soulsaber. Yes, Mikhail used it to compensate. Used it quite a lot, in fact.

"Okay then, which one of you metal heads wants to start a war?"

Shorn's smile put conmen to shame.

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

"Boy, I spoke to the Sith Empress not long ago." Alliera said, walking into the bar with her sith sword drawn "Our ceasefire still stands, your just an idiot looking for trouble." Alliera gestured for everyone to hold fire, frowning. "If you open fire or hurt one of mine first, their reactions will be self defence." Alliera said, in a stern tone "If one of mine fires a shot first, they will be dealt with by me, and you and the empress will be invited to their funeral." @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]@[member="Verz Horak"]

 

[RC 212]

RC looked up from his ale at the newcomer. As the blade had ignited he drew with lightning reflexes born of hundreds of battles. His hands snatched both Verpine shatter guns from their leather holsters and leveled them straight at the Siths head. RC had no love for force users, except maybe the Jedi considering his lengthy history with them in the Clone wars.

Despite Alleiras words RC's blood ran hot. He wished so badly this Sith would attack.
"Ill blast you to the ends of space sith scum. You wont even have a chance to start a war." RC spat in an icy but calm tone.

 

[Jorn Mair]

Jorn saw the man earlier an thought he looked familiar. The instant the blade came out He pulled his Delta pistols out. His helm was on the bar and as the few who were talking he placed his helm on his head. "Shorn dont do this We have good relations with the cease fire. dont screw it up"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Good relations," Mikhail snorted derisively. "You have one thing right, Queen of the Bucketheads. I am looking for trouble."

She had power in the force. A lot of it. That was unsettling. Shorn's body flickered slightly, insubstantial for a moment as he lost concentration. Force using Mando? Whatever.

In the blink of an eye, Shorn reached out in the Force toward the last Mando who spoke. He knew @[member="Jorn Mair"]. Put a saber through his leg, once upon a time. Unfortunately for him, his plea for peace was not helpful to Mikhail's effort. I thought the Mandos were all warmongers. Apparently not. Lame.

"Shut up, Jorn."

Mikhail twisted Jorn's jaw with immense telekinetic force. His ears listened closely for the snap he fully expected to hear.

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

Alliera blasted Mikhail with a heavy Telekinetic force, focused on pushing him back, as she drew her sword. "I will deal with him." Alliera said, looking back to her Vods "Someone get the Sith Empress on the Holonet, and tell her that an idiot by the name of Mikhail Shorn is trying to kill my people!"

 

[John Harrison]

Shaking his head, John couldn't believe the sheer idiocy of Mikhail's plan. He admired the potential bloodshed, but he really doubted that Mikhail could fight off a whole bar of mandos. Bars attracted mandos like honey attracted bees, and it was really rather unfortunate that Mikhail had chosen to expose himself to such potential agony. John had elected to wait on the roof of the bar in case anything happened.

Something had happened. Mikhail had decided to- *ugh* -declare war.

John had felt a ripple in the force as soon as he had provoked the Mandos, and he really had no other option than to interfere. Getting to his feet and igniting his lightsaber, John carved a circular hole in the roof of the bar, stabbing out with one foot to dislodge the spherical chunk of roof he had cut around, then dropping into the bar with a quiet thud. Bringing his saber into a Soresu stance, he backed up against Mikhail, murmuring quietly.

"Smooth moves. You just pissed off a bar of mandalorians. This won't end well."

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

@[member="John Harrison"]
"Leave now, and take your idiot with you" Alliera said, with harsh fanality "and I won't have to take your lightsabers back to the Empress with holorecorded evidence of two idiots acting on their own."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Of course, what Alliera failed to recognize was that Mikhail's body had flickered. As in, insubstantial. Nonexistent. A doppelganger.

Her telekinetic shockwave hit the Force affectation of Mikhail. It dissipated like mist. From behind the Mandos came muffled laughter.

Mikhail paid no more mind to his attack on Jorn. Alliera's attempt had failed to disrupt his concentration, so Jorn's jaw should, in any galaxy where good things happened to Mikhail, be broken. Of course, most of the time the galaxy just decided to take a dump on Shorn's hopes and dreams. So, he disregarded the results of his attack on the single Mando and turned his attention to the greater threat: the room full of mandos.

Emerging from the doorway to the kitchens, behind all the Mandos, Mikhail unleashed his own telekinetic shockwave that spread throughout the room, upending tables and chairs and generally causing a mess. Hopefully it upended a few Mandos too.

This Mikhail Shorn was clad head to toe in phrik armor. He learned long ago to bring armor to an armor fight. As much as he hated the claustrophobia inducing contraption, it made things fair. Besides, he was never good at deflecting blaster bolts. Better sweating than bleeding. He activated his violet blade for the second time. This one was considerably more real.

He watched John drop through the hole in the roof. Interesting. Two Sith. A lot of Mandos. Somebody was outnumbered.

 

[John Harrison]

"Mikhail. Take his advice. Leave now. Don't start measuring armour-dicks. Please." John warned with a subtle nudge to Mikhail's shoulder. "You don't want 4 new holes in places where there should never be holes. Places where the sun sure doesn't shine." Smiling apologetically, he tried to ward Mikhail backwards.

 

[RC 212]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]
As the shock wave raced through the room RC's cue was the chair inches in front of him that turned up and flew towards him.
"Frak" He muttered.
RC engaged his jetpacks coming up off the floor and flattening to the ceiling. As the shock wave passed he dropped back down to his original position and spun in a semi circle tracking the arrogant Siths laughter. A red haze filled RC's vision as the battle rage and bloodlust boiled through him. the Mandao'ads time perception slowed incredibly and he lined up both Verpine shatter guns.
It was too late for negotiation now. RC had been attacked whether other would admit it or not and he would have his revenge.
"Your mouth is your downfall Sith di'kut. I've had my helmet cam running from the moment you stepped in here. Im sure your superior will whip you like a rodain slave and thats after I'm through with you!" RC roared.
He squeezed the triggers of his Verpine shatter guns, letting forward a stream of sonic speed slugs. The shotts were aimed from the left and right and walking in towards the Siths heart..

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

"Mandoes, if the sith engages, stay out of it unless the reasonable one does something." Alliera said, looking between the Sith "The Armored up one is mine." Alliera looked at the reasonable sith, and chuckled. "Did you see his armor, I'll have to turn him into Chunky salsa...." Alliera smirked.

@[member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member="RC 212"]
"STAND DOWN!" Alliera roared, intercepting the bullets with the force and crushing them and forcing them to the floor "AS MAND'ALOR, I ORDER YOU TO STAND DOWN!!"

 

[RC 212]

RCs bullets crashed to the floor and he grunted with disgust. He had known the rules had changed but the thought of his attack being deflected enraged him. Inside the Mando'ad a conflict raged. Would he suffer this from his Mandalore. RC saw her hesitation as a sign of weakness. A sign that greatly disheartened him. It was in his blood to do battle and no one could take that from him.

In his mind RC envisioned turning the weapons on the woman and gunning her down. With Alliera out of the way RC himself could claim the tittle of Mandalore and crush this pathetic galaxy, making the Mandalorian the true respected war machine they ought to be. His hand began to move the Verpine shatter guns ever so slightly, but then his brain kicked in stopping him.
Wait.... He thought to himself. The time will come
"Roger that Mandalore." RC uttered in a flat tone.
"As you wish."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Bah, since when did you turn down a fight, Harrison?"

The helm swung toward the Mandalore. Mikhail smirked behind the visor. "Mandalore the Buzzkill."

He reached out in the Force and amended something he found very disconcerting about the jetpack-equipped Mando. Namely, his jetpack. He crushed down on it, aiming to turn it to nothing more than slag. A very combustible slag. It didn't really matter either way, since the ceiling was fairly low. However, Mikhail didn't want anyone else doing jump rope with his telekinetic waves. @[member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member="RC 212"]

Shorn's lightsaber was held aloft, ready to deflect any incoming attacks. Blaster bolt or otherwise. Plus, he was alerted to the presence of verpine shatter guns now. Not so easy to block with a lightsaber, but with some telekinesis an entirely different story, as evidenced by the Queen of Bucketheads herself.

 

[RC 212]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"]
RC cursed as he felt his jetpack begin to crush behind him. with seconds to spare he slammed the harness release and rolled away as the Jetpack exploded.
BOOM!

The fireball from the jetpack grew quickly. It sucked in the oxygen of the room and then exploded. Fire and roiling plasma spread fast. The waves pushed out and the entire room and bar went up in red hot flames igniting tables chairs and causing the liquor bottles to explode, sending shards of glass and flaming liquid through the air.

RC screamed in pain as his skin burned beneath his armor. The weaker spots melted slightly and his Verpine shatter guns ammunition exploded int he weapons causing loose projectiles to whiz around. The bar became a deathtrap, a hall of shrapnel and fire.

RC regretted his decision now not to continue the attack. Roaring in pain he rose, flames rising from his armor causing him to look like a demon. He was bleeding from several spots where the shrapnel had dug between armor joints.

"Ill remember you Sith Di'kut. I will hunt you down to the ends of the galaxy, unless I succed in killing you this day!" RC raored through the inferno of flames that raged around them.

He leveled his wrist, all thought of law and order gone and let out a torrent of flames towards the sith. Aiming to envelop him in the throes of death.

 

[John Harrison]

"Point taken." John couldn't deny Mikhail's point.

John rolled, taking cover behind a table to allow Mikhail to fight the Mandos without interruption. "You are an idiot, you know. Mandos are known for being easily provoked. And you're known for being a twat." Drawing his saber, John decided he might as well get in on the action. He proceeded to vault across the table, arms wide out to his side as he sent a force repulse across the room, scattering glasses and overturning furniture. "Apologies."

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

Alliera struck out at @[member="John Harrison"] with a force enhanced strike with her Sith Sword, and a force enhanced Gut-Punch, followed by a headbutt to the face. Alliera followed that up with a Force-Enhanced Mule-Kick to the chest.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"That's nice," Shorn said in response to the Mando with the flamethrower.

In the ensuing chaos of the jetpack's explosion, Mikhail had the foresight to actually use his brain and bring something to block the Mando's inevitable counterattack. A table lifted into the air. Flames enveloped the polished wood. Instead of smelling roasted Mikhail, the whole room began to smell of burning cedar. Shorn tossed the table at the Mando with the flamethrower. He then lifted a hand toward the smoldering buckethead and wrapped his telekinetic will around his legs. His hand twisted.

The tibias of the legs strained beneath the weight of Shorn's telekinetic attack. Like, Jorn's jaw, Mikhail expected them to break. However, he did not take time to listen for the sound of bone snapping. He also had to deal with a very pissed off Mandalore. And she liked to throw around the Force too.

Speaking of which.

Not relenting in his Force crush on the @[member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member=""][member="RC 212"]'s legs, Shorn glanced over briefly to see the Mandalore attacking John. The man had said something to Mikhail earlier, but Shorn hadn't caught it on account of a flamethrower being shoved at him. Distracting things, those.