Public Snatch (Slave Raid - Open)

[Dash Farstar]

A beat-up C-ROC Gozanti touched down neatly on the landing field of a small colony outpost, right at the edge of Alliance space. It was an occasional transit stop for travelers off the Hydian Way into the Expansion Regions and according to Sakko the Hutt — the colony outpost mainly served as a research facility for a group of scientists. Apparently, Sakko wanted to curry favors with the Empire; prized slaves rather than your usual laborers.

Who cares? The more they could snatch, the more credits to be made. This size of a colony could finance all the overdue repairs of the Empress Teta — his own ship that was clamped down somewhere in Hutt Space.

Still, the sooner he had Sakko’s goons off his hair, the better.

These same two dozen or some more goons burst out of the freighter and into the outpost; an unhealthy mixture of Trandoshans and T’surr all armed to the teeth with stun guns and nets, concussion and blaster rifles. But the worst of the hired crew was a Mandalorian going by the name Harken Bralor .

“Keep her running, R3.” Dash called out to his astromech before the smuggler joined up the rest of the villains. ​

 

[Thal Mantis]

It wasn't much, but it was honest. It was real, it was honest. It wasn't a glamorous opportunity or discovering some great artifact. No, it was a Jedi on a remote outpost at the far reaches of Alliance space.

Far, far, reaches.

A research facility that eluded Thal in it's complexity and work. He was here to study, to learn, to protect, and perhaps learn something at the behest of some of the elders in the Order. In other words:

Thal was sent here to chill out.

Alarms blared.

And people began to run around in circles, frantically shouting and manning posts, or collecting data.

"They're here for the data!"

"No you idiot they're here for us!"

"They could be for both, nerf herder!"

Thal exited his room, after having been bouncing a ball against the roof and back into his hand for the better part of 20 minutes. He looked down the hallway, watching security teams exit the facility to meet whatever threat was outside. He put on his blast jacket, black and yellow with his combat pants. He slipped over his harness and his utility belt, and pulled his lightsaber to his hand.

He felt nervous, truth be told. What was out there? Whatever it was, he was tasked with being here, and being here meant also defending it when they need arose.

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

Equipment
Armor
	None.
Melee Weapons
	Vibroknife.
	Lightsaber.
Pistols
	Fragarach-model Heavy Disruptor Pistol.
	KXR DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol, Desintegrar.
Ships
	The Estrela.

Cyan colored text indicates an illusion.

On a pit stop between Archais and Alvaria, Elise Ahana-Gwyneira had landed briefly on an outpost in Alliance space to refuel. Of course, as she started to fuel up, she was struck with the tragic image of so many refugees from Empress Teta. The hanger was crowded with newcomers, overwhelming the compassionate soul. She gritted her teeth in rage, cursing the Dark Empire, as she watched a mother pause to comfort her child, asking when they were going home. Elise clenched her fist in righteous fury, once again reminded why she had chosen the path she had chosen. She was going to save the galaxy, somehow, from the wickedness of power hungry, selfish, organizations such as the Dark Empire.

The Dar'Manda pulled her red hood tighter over her head, only to turn and see that another refugee going by her ship was limping. Elise's eyes softened, and she walked over to him. She intercepted and pulled him a little out of the ways, applying Force Healing to his leg as she explained that she was a Healer.

Upon seeing her use the Force this way, and upon seeing the lightsaber on her hip, the man asked, "Are you a Jedi?"

Elise's eyes narrowed as she pulled a cloth out of her pouch, cleaning the wound. "No."

The Jedi had let this happen. The Jedi were too soft, and they let the Dark Empire win. The Jedi were weak. If there was only something stronger, something better, to keep this galaxy running, there would be true peace. But in the air, Elise felt it. As she used her Force Healing, it opened up her Force Sense to her surroundings. And in that moment, the Ajayid realised... there was danger here.

But what?

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Equipment: Lightsaber, three smoke grenades, cloak, ski mask

Shasill set his rickety shuttle down on the landing field, a good distance away from the freighter he'd been following. This colony was small and unimportant, barely within the boundaries of the GA. The main attraction here was a group of scientists. Unbeknownst to them, goons and thugs from Sakko the Hutt were at their doorstep, eager to snatch them up for the crime boss. While Shasill didn't associate with those specific kidnappers, he was out for the credits the Hutt had promised for some of those bright minds.

The former Sith apprentice lowered his shuttle's ramp, and (ignoring the unsettling whining and clanking from the motors) set out towards the tallest building in the middle of the masses of housing pods. It wasn't long before alarms wailed through the small village.

Shasill growled to himself. If he missed even a minute of fun, he'd blame it on his shuttle's limited hyperspace capabilities. He could imagine himself walking away from the burning lab, captured scientists in tow, only to discover his vessel had finally given out on him. Just the way many other things went for him.

Against his will, his mind went back to when he was just a weak apprentice under the tutelage of Darth Nwul. He'd run off somewhere, leaving Shasill to fend for himself. What, was the boy not good enough? Or maybe the power within him scared the sly Knight?

Shasill's anger burned. Good. He might need it for this fight.

 

[Dash Farstar]

Thal Mantis ' conclusions were correct. A dozen or so of the Trandoshans and T'suur beamed straight to the research facility. Half of which engaged the security team, other half using their distraction to barge into the facility itself for the golden geese. Concussion rifles boomed through the small complex. Those who fell were dragged out and stun collared for extraction.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the small outpost, Dash Farstar was looking for the easy score. Civilians who had made the place their home or unlucky travelers on their transit stop here. Elise Ahana-Gwyneira 's premonitions were becoming reality. Slavers were already dragging out the occasional capture back to the freighter, while Dash hid behind the enormous frame of a T'suur, peeking out from time to time to fire a stun potshot that often missed its target.

He figured there was another way to make more profit. Splitting from the group, he hurried down an adjacent street and started calling out:

"Hey, this way! This way! Got a passage outta here!" the scoundrel lied, luring the panicked to nearby alleys only to put them down with a stun shot to the back. A large Trandoshan would round them up and drag the deceived back to the bulk freighter.

Stun guns and neuronic whips echoed across the streets as chaos engulfed the small settlement.​

 

[Thal Mantis]

There were a lot of bad places to be.

Too close to a fire, too close to a grenade, behind a launching ship.

And to be in an enclosed space with Thal Mantis.

The son of the Wolf the Deathless himself.

He narrowed his eyes and stepped forward when a Trandoshan rounded a corner, and reached out to grab a fleeing scientist. In a blink, the Trandoshan's eyes lit up blue when Thal turned on his lightsaber- and sliced both of his arms off. He only had a few more milliseconds to gather his thoughts of the implications of being armless before Thal cleaved him in half, and grabbed the top half, throwing it behind him.

The hallway grew static and tense, the air around Thal becoming electrified. He narrowed his eyes, and the big sonofabitch went forward, slamming a Slaver against the wall, and grabbed another with one hand- and threw him through the wall. He let out a war cry, cleaving a Trandoshan and another slaver in half.

Thal was a big man, sure, but not the size of a T'surr. And one was blocking the exit to the research facility he had been staying at. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, when the T'surr said something in his guttural language. Thal switched grips on his lightsaber, holding it more like a sword, dragging the blade along the wall, arcing the ground and leaving a carving into the wall. He grit his teeth as he and the T'surr approached each other. The T'surr reeled his hand back and went for a punch-

Which Thal just brought his lightsaber up, bisecting his hand. The T'surr screamed, and Thal brought a savage, brutal, force empowered kick to the T'surr's knee. The beast was brought down, howling as Thal shattered bone with his brutal kick. He fought like an animal, not much like a Jedi at times. As the T'surr was brought down slightly, clutching his wounded knee out of instinct, Thal brought his lightsaber up and through his neck. In less than two seconds, he had cut down one of the bigger threats that the slavers had.

He then noticed there was a single Trandoshan standing behind the dead T'surr, trying to operate the door mechanism.

And then, roughly ten feet from Dash Farstar, the Trandoshan was violently launched out of the doorframe, and out stepped Thal into the street, lightsaber in hand, alien blood all over him. He looked like the warrior he was born and made, and then-

His gaze fell on the smuggler. An almost angry gaze.

And he said nothing, but began to approach the smuggler, dragging his long blue lightsaber like before.

 

[Dash Farstar]

Dash jumped out of his skin when the door down the alley was smashed right of its hinges with the enormous body of a Trandoshan tumbling down like discarded, kid's toy. The smuggler stared in disbelief at the man coming out of the door, a blue lightsaber in hand and blue blood smearing his chest and face. A Jedi?!

Survivor's instincts kicked in and he pointed the blaster away from the Jedi, "Whew--thank the Force you're here, Master Jedi!" he breathed out a fake sigh of relief, "I thought I was next." he shook his head at the pile of unconscious bodies nearby. His hands were clammy with sweat as the Jedi slowly approached him.

Thal Mantis ​

 

[Thal Mantis]

Thal Mantis was a big guy.

He was a bit bigger when he was walking towards you. He saw through the smuggler's façade, his not-so-clever ruse. From his equipment, from his blaster, from his clothing. From the sweat on his hands. He didn't need to use the force to know that the man wasn't supposed to be here.

That, and Thal had been at the small colony for a month and taken the time to get to know most of the people there.

The lightsaber found itself placed in front of Thal's person, down and low towards the smuggler.

"Run."

Cold. Ruthless, almost. Covered in blood and capable of great violence, Thal always hovered the edge of what a Jedi could and could not do. Should and shouldn't be. But he'd give the smuggler a chance to run, to atone, to get away before he cleaved him in half like so many others.

He was his father's son, after all.

Or he'd break every limb the smuggler had before sending him to a prison ship.

Dash Farstar

 

[Dash Farstar]

The Jedi loomed over him like a Coruscani cloudcutter.

Dash didn't need to think twice. He swiftly turned heel and bolted in direction of the light cruiser. Where the hell is that Mandalorian when you need him, he grunted to himself, hurrying towards the ship as a new plot began to take shape in his head.

<<R3, start charging those cannons. Gonna need 'em running hot when I am back. >> the scoundrel called through his comlink.

He turned a corner, almost bumping into a hovercart loaded with captured slaves pushed by a Trandoshan.

"Watcchh out, ssssstupid humaan."

"These don't look like scientists to me, lizard-brains."

"Ssssakkoo pay all the ssssaame." the Trandoshan shrugged.

Dash shook his head. For a race worshipping the Scorekeeper, this had to be the least ambitious Trandoshan he'd ever met.

He hurried on his way.​

Thal Mantis

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

Shasill had barely left his ship before he encountered his first raider. A Trandoshan, towering at least two feet over the Dark Jedi, repeating blaster in hand. He seemed to be the last one off the light cruiser. "Excuse me," Shasill called out, hand casually by his side, feeling the cylindrical shape of his lightsaber beneath his robe.

The alien snapped his head around to face the hooded figure that was approaching nonchalantly. In milliseconds, the blaster was leveled at Shasill's head, and the lizard was hissing violently. Before Shasill could speak, a metaphorical light went on in the raider's head. Why not take this random stranger as a slave too?

The alien took a hand off of his weapon and reached it towards Shasill. That's when the former apprentice struck. A crimson blade flashed to life, lopping off the extended barrel of the rifle before coming back around and bisecting the raider at his waist.

Now, Shasill didn't bother to extinguish his blade, as he felt another presence approaching quickly. When the teenager rounded the corner, he found a human hurrying towards the ship. The only method of escape from this planet. And Shasill was between the two.

The Dark Jedi's head tilted slightly. He had an appearance of one that was always sure of himself, but heading straight towards the raider's ship? That would have to mean that this man was part of the attack. Unless he was eager to be a slave, for some reason. For now, the figure would stand in the way, lightsaber blazing, and wait for the other to break the silence. Either with words, or with an invitation for violence.

Dash Farstar

 

[Harken Bralor]

As classy a product as anything else. Slaves. They still went for high creds even with the trade being outlawed across most of the galaxy. If anything, it made it all the more lucrative. The boarding ramp slowly opened with a depressurizing hiss of the hydraulics. He stepped out in the fervent wake of the other scoundrels looking to make a fat pay day off of human livestock.

He slowly drew his disruptor pistol from his holster as he followed the pack into the colony. The ravenous reptilian hunters were quick to throw themselves into a proper fight with the security as Harken sought out the mark. A team of security personnel swarmed one of the first corridors he made his way down, coming on line before barking commands at the Mandalorian. "Halt...I said halt!" The leader among them said before a hail of blaster fire came in his direction.

It wasn't too long before he happened upon the overt display of trickery by Dash Farstar . An acting job good enough to earn some closed cuff award in Coronet, he though. He chuckled beneath the beskar helmet before his eyes shifted to the view of the towering man clutching the cobalt blade of a lightsaber in his broodingly contained yet violent approach toward the smuggler. The Mandalorian shook his head faintly as he stepped with a slow, heavy cadence in the Jedi's shadow, a characteristic rattle of his gait behind the Jedi and as he lurched toward the smuggler, he lifted his left vambrace up, took aim for the man's knees before he fired a grappling line with aim of sinching his legs together and pulling him from his footing, whipping back his arm as soon as it made purchase as he aimed the pistol in his other hand toward Thal Mantis , squeezing the trigger with a violent, loud, shriek of a burst toward the man.

 

[Dash Farstar]

"You've gotta be kiddin me..." the smuggler murmured under his nose as he nearly tripped to a halt. Another guy with a lightsaber running around this place; a red one this time. Dash was no scholar on hokey religions and ancient weapons, but he knew enough to tell the difference between this guy and the one he'd met earlier.

What a kriffin' bad hand in sabacc he'd been dealt.

"Hey, man, there's a Jedi guy looking for ya back there." he threw a thumb back at the direction he'd come from, while his mind played a game of sabacc against any possible psychic intrusions. Beneath the cards, Dash was sifting through a dozen plans to save his hide.

Shasill Kaarte ​

 

[Saram Kote]

Friendly Units:

• 'Davaab' Vuhyr'yaliyr Ramikade Squad
• G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar-class Heavy Stealth Gunship Galaar 1-1

Ally Tag(s): Thal Mantis | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | GA & Allies
Enemy Tag(s): Dash Farstar | Shasill Kaarte | Harken Bralor | DE/Hutt Slavers & Allies

Equipment

• Armor:
  • 'Ori'vuhyr'yaliyr'gam
  • 'Ysalamiri Birikad' Nutrient Frame
  • Vambrace Weapons:
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
      • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Electro Darts (4)
      • Explosive Darts (4)
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (4)
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
• Implant(s):​
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  • DR-04DB Class-D Disruptor Rifle w/ 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
  • AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Materiel Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-250x Extreme Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • Det-Packs (2)
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Class-A Thermal Detonator (2)
  • NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (2)

The company's contacts had come through once more. Someone had led let slip that there might've been an operation in the works, and that the target might be a world on the edge of Galactic Alliance space, just off the Hydian way no less. RP-01S 'Sur'ulur' Recon Probes from Prudii Rekr 1-1 had been deployed to four probably worlds that they'd managed to narrow it down to. Spar was taking Prudii Rekr 1-1 and its complement of Tra'verd to one of the worlds, and she and the rest of Davaab had been tasked with checking this one.

The ship that the probe had picked up, a C-ROC Gozanti, was not usually something that'd be suspicious. The vessel was pushing its operational lifespan at this point, and you'd have to be di'kutla, dini'la, desperate or some combination of all of the above to still be operating one of those. One way or another, they were going to find out which.

Their gunship had entered the system without raising too much attention. They couldn't afford to be as quiet as they would have wanted with a nice slow reversion given that time was not on their side, but the rest of the way through the gunships cloaking device and electronic warfare systems had been active. She very much doubted any of the hostiles were aware of their presence.

"Another charity job? Doesn't the Alliance have enough shabla people?" sighed a frustrated Viraen Kyrdol, her squad's second marksman.

"Because the alor wants a nice new shiny contract. A real one that pays real credits," she said, giving Viraen a pointed look. Truth was she wasn't thrilled about the job itself either. It reeked far too much of bait to her. She couldn't afford to voice that to her squad however. Not when she had no real proof.

"And since when do the jetii give a shab?" fired back Viraen.

"Since when do you ask so many questions, vod? What's the matter, are you afraid of a few Cartel di'kute? Either way we win. If the Alliance notices and says yes to the alor's offer, then we get that shiny Alliance contract. We don't, we get to shoot a few shabuire who probably deserve it anyway," chimed in her 2IC, Ran Netra.

Viraen held both his hands up, "Just saying. Till the Alliance signs that contract, this is a charity job."

"If the Alliance signs that contract," deadpanned Anila Kyrr, the squad's demolitions specialist with a snort.

Thankfully, it was about at that moment that Rav informed them over the intercom that they were on final approach, "We're on final, vode. Two minutes. Picking up plenty of weapons fire groundside, and plenty of life signs. Aerial insertion's your best bet."

"Alright, Davaab, we've got some shabuire to kill. Now who the haran's with me?" she asked as she stood to her feet. A chorus of "oya" answered her. She checked the gunship's sensor feed via the Manda tactical battlenet "Ran, Jaing, get to the main comms console, see if you can't punch out a distress call. If you can't, well, there's plenty of them down there. Rusana, Vikhar, Janar and Anila, hit and fade until they're either so jumpy they're shooting each other or there's none of them left. Viraen and I will post up and see if we can't pick off anyone stupid enough to stay outside.

Seven acknowledgement signals flashed in her hud. Satisfied, Saram walked over to the ramp release and hit the switch. With a whine from the hydraulics, the gunship's ramp opened up opened up. Only out of sync by a few seconds, the eight rammikade vanished into nothing. Two by two, Saram saw green outlines of her squad run and leap off the ramp in the teams she'd assigned them until it was just Viraen and her on the ramp. Viraen's outline on her HUD turned, gave her an exaggerated shrug and then threw himself backward off the ramp.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Saram followed Viraen down the ramp and out into the open sky. Eight Mandalorians fell on invisible wings of fire, using their packs' sound suppressed repulsors to slow and adjust their trajectories. Viraen pinged his LZ as the far end of the research complex, so Saram adjusted hers to be the top of the traffic control tower and then marked it.

Saram was the last to land, but no sooner than she had was her AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Materiel Rifle up and the scope synced to her HUD as a picture-in-picture view. From what she could see, Anila, Vikhar, Janar and Rusana were already engaging, pouring pulse cannon, particle repeater, verpine shatter autocannon and expertly aimed SLAP rounds from a verpine shatter battle rifle at a squad of Trandoshans, taking great care not to injure the prisoners they'd taken. "Jammers, don't let them coordinate," she whispered over their team frequency, and was quickly answered by seven acknowledgement signals as squad wide their jammers went live.

That was when her sights settled on something she was not expecting to see here. Some red jetii'kad wielding dar'jetii and in front of him, what had to be a smuggler of some sorts, only he was running toward the ship that their probe had picked up entering the system. Now that was someone worth more alive than dead. She didn't know if the smuggler's comms had tightbeam or not, but she was going to try anyway, "Traffic control tower, run, now." Without missing a beat, she put a trio of HEIAP rounds in the dar'jetii's ( Shasill Kaarte ) direction at with the precision and rate afforded to her by her armor's CNT muscle fiber bodysuit and her cybernetics. One aimed in front of him, one off to his right and a third aimed where she had done her best to presume he would dodge.

 

[Thal Mantis]

Drums, war, raids, and death.

Thal sensed danger from behind him, and spun to face the jingling of gear against webbing and armor. And had just enough time to watch the wire wrap around his legs, yanking him to the ground. Thal kept his lightsaber on, and focused on the target ahead of him. He brought his lightsaber up, watching one shot thankfully hit the armor on his legs, and the other blaster bolts going against his blue blade.

The air around them grew more static-filled, and for brief moment, Thal's body arced a single bolt of electric energy to the ground. He sneered, using the lightsaber to slice the wire off of his feet.

His father was a Mandalorian- and he was told he was one of the best. Thal was the Deathless, the gladiator who would not die, the slave who persisted. His eyes narrowed and he felt that old familiar anger rising up. He had to take control. He was on the ground, and the Mandalorian was closing the distance.

He leapt not to his feet, he spring-board kicked towards the Mandalorian. Thal did not fight like a Jedi, he fought like a madman almost. He screamed a mighty war cry, closing the distance between him and the Mandalorian. Thal wasn't as tall as the Mandalorian- but Thal was a big guy, to say the least. He took after his father in that regard, but still retained a lean, violent physique of his mother, an Echani.

And unlike most other Jedi, he did not bother with talk or monologuing. There was only the fight.

Harken Bralor

 

[Shasill Kaarte]

It seemed the man ahead of him was not very happy with Shasill's appearance. He smirked under his mask as he let his lightsaber wave around a bit.

"Hey, man, there's a Jedi guy looking for ya back there."

A Jedi, here? Well, the Dark Jedi should have expected it. This was still Alliance space after all. Although he didn't understand how Jedi were assigned, Shasill reasoned that a Jedi out here must be of a lower level, guarding such an unimportant world. As such, Shasill would deal with this person first, and then-

All the warning he had was like a mini-heart attack. Like missing a step on the stairs, or patting a pocket and not feeling a key. Shasill whipped his head around, searching for a source, but finding none. The former Sith jumped back a good dozen meters, watching two rounds impact the surface around where he was just standing. And then another mini-heart attack.

Another round was headed his way. He didn't have time to dodge either. He flicked a wrist, hoping to direct the explosive round away. Shasill knew he didn't have much practice affecting things he couldn't see properly, but this was his best chance. The round impacted the ground closer than he would have liked, but hey, he was alive. But he wasn't sure his ears were. He could feel liquid running down his neck; probably blood. His ears were ringing, and his sight was awfully disoriented.

The fiery rage burnt up within him washed the majority of the effects away in milliseconds. Although his ears were still oozing and ringing, his eyesight was better. Unfortunately, eyesight seemed like it wouldn't help in this situation. The enemy was either hidden well, or had stealth systems preventing the naked eye from seeing them. Really...stealth commandos sent to this out of the way nothing-world? These newcomers didn't have anything better to do? Or were they after the scientists too?

This was turning into quite the free-for-all.

Shasill, knowing that this fight would end up in his death if he approached it like he was now, took a huge leap towards the science center, the Force propelling him before the broken down entrance. He looked behind him briefly before running inside. The corridors ought to give him some cover against this enemy. Whereas outside, he'd been at a complete disadvantage with the enemy being able to see him very clearly, and him not being able to see them at all, in here his hunter would at least have to search for him.

Still a disadvantage, but it was lesser somewhat. He just hoped he didn't run into anyone else in here.

Saram Kote

 

[Dash Farstar]

His comlink cracked through static.

"Great. Military-grade jamming." he murmured as he fiddled with the gadget's frequencies until the transmission coming through was somewhat comprehensible.

"Traffic control tower, run, now."

What happened next, Dash Farstar could only pin it to Corellian's luck. Someone, from somewhere, had started taking shots at the guy blocking his way.
The scoundrel did not hesitate when opportunity presented itself, he bolted towards the Gozanti like the devil was after him.

<<I have to get to my ship, pal. It's high noon over 'ere.>> Dash spoke through the comlink, unsure whether the message even got through the static. The ship finally materialized before his eyes and he found a new gear to his stride.

Saram Kote ​

 

[Harken Bralor]

The Mandalorian's eyes widened as he flashed the blade toward him, lunging and swinging the cobalt light toward the Beskar, stepping back away from the Jedi before yanking him toward him to plant a leg against the man's stomach with a violent kick. However, it wasn't much longer until he was jolted to his feet with fitting reposte aimed toward Bralor's cuirass. The Beskar steel did well in absorbing the blow, but set him from his footing regardless, a muffled grunt of pain leaving him as he snapped the line free from his vambrace, taking aim with it to send a spurt of scalding hot flame toward him as his other hand fished for the hilt of his telescopic vibro-longsword. Grasping ahold if it, he flicked the activation switch before he moved to cut it up and toward the Jedi's face with a long reaching swipe of the steel.

<"Darkstar! Get a ship ready! If there's Jedi here then the Alliance will be on us soon. We need to start snatching marks. Now!"> He said into his commlink before he set one foot forward, grasping the hilt of his vibrosword in both hands before he swiped it back downwards from his previous upwards cut. He grit his teeth in determination. If he wasn't going to leave with any slaves today, he'd at least leave with a lightsaber snatched from this Jedi as trophy.

Dash Farstar | Thal Mantis

 

[Saram Kote]

Friendly Units:

• 'Davaab' Vuhyr'yaliyr Ramikade Squad
• G-02H/S Shev'la'galaar-class Heavy Stealth Gunship Galaar 1-1

Ally Tag(s): Thal Mantis | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | GA & Allies
Enemy Tag(s): Dash Farstar | Shasill Kaarte | Harken Bralor | DE/Hutt Slavers & Allies

Equipment

• Armor:
  • 'Ori'vuhyr'yaliyr'gam
  • 'Ysalamiri Birikad' Nutrient Frame
  • Vambrace Weapons:
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
      • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Electro Darts (4)
      • Explosive Darts (4)
      • Surveillance Tagger Darts (4)
    • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
• Implant(s):​
  • 'Rammikad' Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  • DR-04DB Class-D Disruptor Rifle w/ 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
  • AMR-4M Verpine Shatter Anti-Materiel Rifle w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-250x Extreme Range Optic
• Explosives:
  • Det-Packs (2)
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Class-A Thermal Detonator (2)
  • NOVA40 Plasma Grenade (2)

Saram lined up her next trio of shots, cursing as she saw her last round miss. If he wasn't going to dodge, then she had to adjust her tactics. The dar'jetii didn't stay, however, he quickly withdrew to the main building. Saram sucked her teeth in mild irritation. "Next time, shabuir," she whispered to herself as she turned her attention back to the smuggler, who had used her distraction to run not for where she'd told him to, rather toward the Gozanti.

Sighing, Saram turned and put a round barely a foot in front of him. If shrapnel got him, he'd be slower to chase down. Injured was still alive. "You have a listening problem, don't you?" she asked over the comms. "I saved your life, at the very least you owe me the cost of ammunition. I'll take a conversation over credits. Oh, and for the love of all things, please don't run, you'll just die tired."

Saram then quickly marked the Gozanti as a target for Galaar 1-1, "Galaar 1-1, Davaab 6, if that ship even starts the engines, put a couple of missiles up its shebs."

"Elek, Davaab 6, we're locked," chimed back Rav, the feed from the Manda showing that a pair of Tra'beviin-class Brilliant Missiles were locked on.

 

[Dash Farstar]

"You have a listening problem, don't you? I saved your life, at the very least you owe me the cost of ammunition. I'll take a conversation over credits. Oh, and for the love of all things, please don't run, you'll just die tired."

Dash groaned in pain when shrapnel hit his calf right as he made it to the cruiser's ramp. Limping towards the small bridge of the Gozanti, he shut and locked the cargo hold on his way -- whatever these goons had managed to procure, that was it. The smuggler was getting out of dodge.

He brought the comlink back up to his mouth, <<I've no clue who the hell you are, pal, but if credits are your line of work -- the Alliance's got plenty to spare, but I'll need to make it out of here alive first.>> the Corellian said. The Gozanti had its engines running since it had landed. R3 was hurrying through pre-flight procedures that took longer than usual with the lack of optimal crew number to man the various stations.

<"Darkstar! Get a ship ready! If there's Jedi here then the Alliance will be on us soon. We need to start snatching marks. Now!">

The next comlink transmission that barely cut through the static was the Mandalorian's. Dash considered whether to ghost the man and leave him to the deadly trap below, but the fear of his potential reprisal pressed heavy on his shoulders.

<<Ship's about to leave, Mando -- get the hell back if you want a ticket outta here.>> he slumped back on the pilot's chair, sweat pouring down his brow from the shrapnel in his leg. The smuggler glanced at the sensor's messed up readings, confirming someone was jamming the hell out of this place. If he had to guess, the military-grade tech had to belong to his mysterious savior - the phantom marksman.

Harken Bralor Saram Kote​

 

[Thal Mantis]

Thal barely managed to escape the wrath of the flamethrower by skirting to the right and sliding on the ground. The Mandalorian's upwards cut elicited a snarl of pain from Thal, who immediately fell back, a deep gash across his jaw and cheek, stopping just short of his eye. He touched his face, making sure he wasn't going to bleed out and that he could still move his face.

So far, just a deep cut, but survivable. For sure. Thal used one hand to block the blade, the vibroblade clashing against his lightsaber. His left hand held onto the hilt of the lightsaber, Thal's physicality without the force keeping the Mandalorian at bay.

And then he pulled his right fist back- and gathered the force into his hand. More arcs of lightning.

And years of anger.

Years of hatred.

Years of every wrongdoing he had suffered, arcs of lightning spewed from the Jedi's fist. Years upon years of suppressing what came naturally to the young man- finally came out. The Mandalorian, the visage of his father, Preliat Mantis , and of somewhat more honorable men, Vilaz Munin and the like. He curled his fingers into a fist, and they arced with electricity.

And that fist, arcing with electricity, bolts of lightning brought out by Thal himself, came crashing towards the Mandalorian's T-shaped visor, or more specifically, the side of it, in a brutal downwards cross.

Thal screamed at him, bolts of electricity stemming from his fist, slamming to the ground around them, violently arcing away from Thal's body.

Harken Bralor