Tell That to Kanjiklub [Lords of Nal Hutta/Ask to Join]

[Darth Vulcanus]

https://soundcloud.com/streetfever/in-the-face-of-evil-street?in=archdukechocula/sets/cyberpunk​

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Planet:​

Nar Kanji​

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Locations:​

Zu Leech City​

Zu Leech Spaceport​

The Palace of Dead Tyrants​

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Hu Khaan & Ji "The Jiant"​

Eliminate the Kanjiklub Leadership​

The sky split and the clouds shattered, torn in two by a storm of neon lightning that ripped away the dusk-skies and replaced it with a hellish vision of a world painted in flashes of club-light strobes. On all sides, the palace atoll lit ablaze - hues of red and purple dancing across the waves, coloring them as flames crashing against the cliffsides that rose like castle walls around the islet.

Hu Khaan ran through the torch-lit halls, past preserved mountings of the many Hutt tyrants who'd met justice at the hands of the Kanji Freemen. To the highest balcony, he ran and exited into the miasma of light bathing his freed world. His lieutenant, Ji, had made it to the balcony before him and was standing like a stone giant in the face of the blinding storm tearing through the clouds above the palace.

Hu pulled tight the last velcro strap on his chest plate - pinning the matted furs and taped sheets of plasteel to his body.

"The day has come - just as the shanty-men said it would." Ji murmured in his deep baritone, knuckles turning pale around the shaft of the rifle he'd modified with an ax-head fitted under the barrel.

Hu racked the chargeback of the Huttsplitter, it grated and gurgled in response, "Are you sure it's them?"

Ji straightened, his shadow reaching out over the Kanjifighters tipping speeders into barricades and piling furniture in the courtyard below. "I'd know that light anywhere."

The lights grew brighter and it became clear they were descending faster toward the surface, driven by a hulking shadow emerging from the clouds. The farther the shadow drove the sharper and more defined its shape became. A dagger-edged bow, sails that spread wider then the ship like a surface vessel from an old pirate holo and a series of light bars that stretched the entirety of its ovular body.

Hu's eyes lit with fire, fingers wringing the grip of Huttsplitter as he leered at the beast of machinery that descended upon his home.

A Hutt Barge, the vessel of tyrants.

"Get to the courtyard." Hu patted Ji's arm, it was so tense it was as if he had slapped a bar of steel, "Get the boys ready...Ji...Ji." He shook the giant's arm and Ji finally turned to face him through long, scraggled hair.

"There are no slaves here, we will remind them of that." He stretched out a hand to the man. There was a moment of silence between them, and then Ji took his and the men embraced.

"Hu Khaan!" A gregarious voice cracked the sky like thunder, throwing both men's gaze back towards the barge from where the Huttese had boomed from. The vessel now seemed to eclipse the entire sky, dozens of vessels of all shapes and sizes swarming through the pulsing lights

"Hu Khaan, your masters have returned!"

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Kanjiklub Fighters​

1. Help the Scale Skin Trandoshan Clan Set up Slave Operations​

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2. Drive-bys, murders and killings oh-my!​

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Clouds of rolling, industrial filth hung over the city of freed slaves - and from their smog veiled rooftops and their rows of sewer covered streets they watched the distant island of Kanjiklub control become but a faded vision in the shroud of kaleidoscopic light. Civilians, if you could call armed, rebellious slaves such a thing, and Kanjifighters alike gawked in awe at the picture of calamity come to life.

"In the sky! The Masters! The Masters are back!" it took a moment but when the crowd looked above, a frenzy burned through the streets. Trandoshan dropships cut through first through the clouds and then through the cityscape, fanged beasts of nightmare dropping into the streets and firing into the crowds with sparking nets, howling stun blasters and even throwing themselves into fleeing Kanji.

Kanjiklub fighters charged the nightmarish lizardmen, clunky blasters rippling the air from both sides.

All across the city, the spice dens began shuttering their doors and windows - Kanjiklub fighters running from safehouse to safehouse to find guns or load spice into safer locations. Some even snorted their own product for courage.

The swarm of dropships all converged on one location, a circle of scrapped together buildings topped with duct-taped domes and flags in sad attempt to legitimize them as something governmental. Trandoshans dropped into the courtyard, gunfire was exchanged immediately as crates and prefabricated tents dropped to the soil in preparation for the raising of the slave processing centers.

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By the time the screaming started, it was too late. The Trandoshans had already begun lobbing grenades into the lobby of the spaceport. Those inside vanished like buckets of paint running down the walls. Blastdoors closed throughout the facility and the Kanjiklub desperately tried to seal off the spaceport from the outside world, but this only served to seal the fates of dozens.

Hidden assassins, tucked away inside crates delivered that day, sprung from their durasteel cages and showered the surprised Kanjifighters in red bolts. Soon, they began cordoning off every section of the port from all the others - bracing the doors with whatever they could find. Anything to contain the situation.

"Get those damn cages inside!" A burly Kanjifighter barked, misshapen blaster at the ready as his men dragged exotic beasts deeper into the belly of the spaceport where crates of spice and rare animals were kept for the black market. As the last cage was drug through the doors, the black direwolf within snapped its jaws at his passing leg.

He kicked the bars and threatened the beast with his blaster, "keep you karking teeth to yourself you mutt!"

And then the last blastdoor closed.

The battle for Nar Kanji had begun.

Spoiler

Acaleus Thorn, Arekk, Gorba the Hutt, Hlim'izun'sittur, Julian Valentine, Koda Fett, Sotta the Hutt, @Zelgatha the Hutt

 

[Rhen Ordo]

Music

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It had seemed like a good idea at first, when she'd pitched it to Gorda. After all, the Kanjiklub traded in exotic animals, and who better to infiltrate from the inside than someone like her, an individual that could shift forms on command. With no shortage of skepticism her employer agreed, arranging the trade off-world with those that were untraceable to the Hutt. From that point forward she'd spent her time in too small of a cage with just enough food and water to get her by, and more than enough rough treatment from her temporary masters. Cori didn't bother to disguise her disdain, but she remained tame, for the most part.

When the commotion began she knew her time in captivity was at an end, and so paced restlessly from one end of her pen to the other, baring her teeth at those that came too close. The room she was confined to was a touch too small and crowded for her liking, but the time would come soon to rid it of a few of its inhabitants. When the floodlights flickered on overhead a chuff of annoyance sounded from the back of her throat, and she continued to pace. The brightness of her surroundings meant this would be difficult to do entirely undetected, but she would manage. She'd probably complain about it later, but she would manage.

For those first few moments she only listened to the sounds of blaster-fire and explosions outside, gauging how close the true fight was to her location. It was evident no one was going to come rescue her - nobody knew she was there - but she wanted to give her gracious hosts a chance to get comfortable.

It took seconds for her to change from solid, liquid and back again, existing as the same beast on the other side of the bars. A low growl rumbled deep in her chest, ears flattened against her head and teeth bared. With silent footsteps she prowled, pouncing on the nearest Kanjifighter and sinking her teeth into his throat, shaking her head viciously from side to side in a move that nearly decapitated the man save for fragments of muscle and bone. Blood dripped in crimson pools from her jaws, her orange eyes burning like coals against the blackness of her fur as she licked the gore from her mouth, a snarl reverberating throughout the closed in space.

It was time to hunt.

[member="The Underwriter (DM)"]

 

[Arekk]

https://soundcloud.com/tctitasmusic/le-castle-vania-red-circle-led-spirals-shots-fired​

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NAR KANJI​

Zu Leech City ​

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INTERACTING WITH: [member="The Underwriter (DM)"] ​

Ah, credits.

To have your pockets feel heavy when you're actually carrying thin chips full of cash and walking away with the jobs offered were an incredible sensation, the adrenaline rush when on the field was something he sorely missed. Having changed the luxury, women and killings for a peaceful life was nothing but a dumb decision but thankfully he saw it through.

Working for the Hutts were his golden ticket to rebuilding the reputation he once held in the underworld and accepting a rather simple contract off-world would be a great start. Issues somewhere in an Outer Rim planet required his utmost attention by trying to keep a gang in control and let his employer assume full control over their operations, for that very same reason several people had to be put down mercilessly.

Cigarette falling to the pavement and stepped with his foot, Ar'ekk waltzed into one of the spice dens with his crossguard lightsaber drawn out. Two thugs armed with vibroblades got into the man's way but he was quicker and more agile, the upgrades implemented by his ripperdoc gave him the upper hand in battle.

The red cracked crystal gave his weapon a menacing look and sound as he sliced his way through, cutting heads and hands. Behind him, a team of Trandoshans would swarm the place and serve as cannon fodder as he would make his way deeper into the den.

"What a waste of good spice."

Oh, the fight was just beginning.

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[Koda Fett]

NAR KANJI​

THE PALACE OF DEAD TYRANTS​

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An analytical approach.

The Bounty Hunter was a Mandalorian, and before that he was a Clone bred for War. Now, he was just a Bounty Hunter. His skill set was diverse, just as his equipment was. Fett's gear ranged from the loudest, most damaging of explosives to the silent and precise darts that inflicted poison into a man that dropped him within an instant. As a result, the Clone was rather confident in his ability to swarm a Palace without much forethought and gun down those within, he may be wrong- but blind confidence isn't the reason he thrived, after all.

As the neon lights raged in warfare above, beneath it all in a concealed location resided a Mandalorian within a job to do. His rangefinder fell over his T-Visor, enhancing the vision modes accessible to him and even scanning the ahead. Several warm bodies pinged, their outline coloured with an orange hue. Armed, and dangerous, but for how long?

Both the humans that stood guard on the outside soon found dart in each of their necks, the very tip protruding inside, injecting it's poison. First they felt the sting, then the dizziness, and finally death taking hold. Dropping with a thud beneath the roars above, gurgling until they could gurgle no more.

As slow and cautious approach, the Carbine held firmly within his grip.

[member="The Underwriter (DM)"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

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The Pleasure Barge ​

Above the Palace of Dead Tyrants​

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"Hu Khaan, your masters have returned!" Gorba had laughed into the loudspeaker blasting his voice across the islet that the Kanjiklub had made their own since running their masters off-world. With a gregarious ho-ho-ho the Hutt killed the mic with a slap of his slimy claws, turning to face the holomap of Zu Leech city that flashed like a life day tree as the Trandoshans called in their successful landings. "Good, soon the city will be ours and we can reteach these slaves what their lot in life is."

"You really think it'll be that easy?" Jaeel questioned, stepping up beside the bulbous gangster and swirling his index finger around the ghostly outline of the city limits, "When that is all eaten up, won't the Kanji be pissed? How are we going to control the situation if it escalates? Not to mention the rest of the planet is still wildspace."

A sloppy hand gripped the back of the Nabooian's neck and pulled him near. Ever so subtly the man pulled away to keep his suit from rubbing against the slime, but this just managed to put his face right into the greasy, gelatinous folds of Gorda's chest."This, Jaeel, is why I like you. You are honest and you use your head! There is not enough scum left like you in this galaxy." pushing the man back to his own feet, Gorda gazed at the map with his deep, brown eye "even if you are overly generous with your appraisal of the Kanji."

"Overly generous?" Jaeel sounded offended

"They are weak-willed. They only took Nar Kanji after my people had become too weak to defend it - there was no grand uprising or battle like the Kanjiklub like to think. Their recounts are pure fantasy at this point, but Hutts have long memories." Sliding closer to the map on a bed of slime, he clawed the image of the city, "when the city is ours, it will be easy to round the Kanji up. The rest of the planet will be added to the collection soon after and this Scale Skins will be the caretakers - a small reward for their loyalty to Desiljilic and the Lords."

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Sshask​

1. Establish Desijilic Slave Operations on Nar Kanji​

2. Be a Lizard Man​

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The air sizzled, spats of red and yellow blaster fire swallowing the city center - turning it into a deadly light show that lit the night. Sshask's pelt-wrapped armor bellowed in the violent spur of dropship exhaust, his body pinned to a durasteel crate that'd been dropped in the center of the city square. "Gah! Filthy-dirty no-scales! Get in chain-binds!" the ill-spoken lizard screamed out over the blaster fire, tucking around the end of the crate and throwing unaimed rounds into the cinder of the haphazardly built government center - sending a handful of Kanjis ducking for cover. The Scale Skins ahd already took a foothold from the dazed Kanjifighters and slowly they were pressing the soon-slaves into the buildings.

"Yes, kill-die!" Sshask's rifle continued to spit fire into the Kanji lines, mowing down a fighter who'd just jumped out of cover - gun canted in a gangster grip before the fire overtook him. When Sshask dove from cover and pushed forward, rest of the Trandoshan forces pushed with him. Like a wall of scales and death, the lizardmen drove the Kanjifighters into the government buildings, shuttering the first-floor windows and doors while gunmen went about turning advancing Trandoshans into little more than smoking ash from the second floor.

"Gah! Enough murder-death! Use netguns, stunguns! Slaves for new boss, yes-yes!" Sshask screamed out to the men, ducking into the short steep that separated the street from the higher landing of the government buildiing courtyard.

The mayhem was excellent, a thrill to be a part of.

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Other Lizard Bois​

1. Help out [member="Arekk"]​

2. Murder-Death-Kill​

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The scary no-scale flicked a cigarette into the alleyway, then stepped inside the den without as much as a second thought. There was an eerie silence for a moment and all four of the Trandoshans in the speeder looked at each other - not sure whether to be suspicious or impressed.

"Should we peek-sneak, see if no-scale is still-

He was cut-off by the flashes of light from behind the closed shades of the den, followed by short screams that didn't sound too pleasant. "The no-scale is alive-good" the driver spat quickly, throwing the speeder into drive and taking off down the street. The house they were looking for was only doors down from the drug den, a safe house for the Kanjiklub. Already there were dozens of men unholstering shabby-guns and taking off toward the den at full speed.

But that was about as far as their heoric venture would go.

"DIE KILL, FIGHTER-KANJI!" The Trandoshans screamed, rolling down the speeder windows and peppering the line of gangsters with ACP repeaters. The guns rattled fearsomely - albeit clunkily - from the passenger side. The yellow bolts kicking up dirt, debris and dust as they haphazardly sprayed across the street and sent the Kanjifighters falling for cover, running back for their safe house or simply collapsing into searing husks. The blasterfire continued even as the gangsters ran for the house, windows and walls exploding into splinters as the Trandoshan weapons barraded the shanty-like structure.

 

[Koda Fett]

NAR KANJI​

THE PALACE OF DEAD TYRANTS​

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The Mandalorian, in all his quiet fury, was concealed beneath the cover of darkness. The occasional beam of light that streaked across the sky found itself reflecting upon his T-Visor, or off the parts of his armour that allowed shine. Typically those that had the paint removed through some rather orthodox means. Even an uneducated individual could assume that it was a result of a combat inflicted injury, or that the armour simply did it's job in providing plates thick enough to enable Fett to act as a 'walking tank' as he had been described before. His armoured form shifted along further, closing the gap between the 'Palace of Dead Tyrants' and himself.

Fett had a job to complete.

As a rumbling roar echoed above, Fett's jetpack ignited. Flames spat furiously from the twin exhausts, hoisting himself up and into the air- racing high above to where he ultimately stops upon reaching the rooftop. Inertia bringing him back to the ground, landing with a thud that may or may not be heard from his current position, or even seen.

The Mandalorian shifted into a crouching position, his Carbine held within his right hand and a scanning pulse emitting from his helmet. Whatever was within his vicinity was to be lit up, covered by an orange hue from beneath his helmet and upon his HUD.

[member="The Underwriter (DM)"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Kanjiklub Fighters​

The Spaceport​

Interacting: [member="Cori Ilian"]​

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Blood spurt in thick streams into the shadows, covering cages in a paste of gore that sent the starved beasts inside into lunacy - attacking the bars with fang and claw, lapping the blood like water. The Kanjifighters lept in every direction, turning to face the dire wolf with raised blasters. Its eyes burned with hunger. Its teeth smeared with blood. It snarls...and then the shadows alight in streaks of red.

The beasts thrashed in their cages as blaster bolts burst against their iron bars and singed their fur, scales and hides. "How'd that damn thing get out!" the leader - and man who'd threatened Cori - shouted over the blaster fire, racking his own weapon as if it were an ancient scattergun. The blaster barked and the man's shoulder kicked back with the recoil - sending a spread of sparking bolts into the shadows toward the wolf. He hesitated to fire his second shot, instead he sidestepped in a semi-circle to clear his backdrop of any other cages before racking the peculiar scatter blaster once more.

"Don't hit the other animals, goddamnit!"

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Kanjiklub fighters​

The Drug Den​

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Interacting With: [member="Arekk"]​

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The criminological terror that was unleashed inside the den was...unprecedented to say the least. Before the Kanjifighters could promptly react, the air of the drug den was filled with the smoldering flesh of amputated wrists and arms. No one was spared, not even the men who did nothing but weigh powder on scales all day. When the blending of limbs into ash had finally ceased, the Kanjis at the head of the den were little more than whimpering piles of pain that were easily dragged into bondage by the storming Trandoshans.

From beyond the tables filled with neatly wrapped bricks of spice and the scores of science equipment used to make it, a group of Kanjifighters huddled close to the far side of a thin durasteel door that separated them from the murderous onslaught. There was a pause between them...a moment of silence as they listened to the hisses and slithering tongue of whatever species the masters had brought to subdue them...

But when the first scream began to fade away, they acted.

Throwing open the door, the Kanjifighters stormed the room in a hail of mix-matched bolts of plasma. Spice exploded into air as bags were blown open and their contents began to burn. Trandoshans fell. Kanjifighters did the same - but over it all a thick cloud of toxic bliss began to form. Bliss that slowly turned to hell as the toxins thickened and were inhaled by frantic combatants.

The world melted away for those in the den, sheet metal walls replaced by illusions. Friends turned to splotches on the edge of vision but the enemy...the enemy had never been so clear. Gone were the familiar faces of scared humans - in their place was something far more worthy of death.

Before them all now stood horned beasts and creatures who stood as half-men and half-hooved beast and the insatiable lust for blood.

https://soundcloud.com/lucca-scherer/doom-2016-ost-rip-tear-4k-ultra-hd​

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Hu Khaan & Ji "The Jiant"
Eliminate the Kanjiklub Leadership

Interacting With: [member="Koda Fett"]


Metal splintered, driving shards of armor deep into the gash wound left by Ji's ax. Not that it mattered, the glurshing sound of ribs turning to goo under the weight of man and weapon was enough to know the Nykto wasn't going to stand back up. Prying the blade from the gurgling chest of the alien, Ji screamed a battle cry before raising the half-ax-half-rifle to his shoulder and letting a fully charged bolt of energy vaporize a Rodian from neck to upper shoulder.

The courtyard was engulfed in battle and flame, but it was hardly the center point of the palace battle. Across the entire estate, the master's forces had come to set the Kanji off-balance and to do that, they had sent strike teams through windows and onto the balconies of the top floor. The fight through the tight corridors and down crowded halls had turned into a quick bloodbath, filling the palace with blood and spilled gore - but it did nothing to slow the "Jiant".

Even with his murderous forward momentum, however, he'd barely been able to make it half-way to the stairs, even after several minutes of combat.

"Ji!" Hu shouted over a crack of the Huttsplitter, carving an oncoming trio of humans into sectional pieces that fell in clumps to the ground, "The roof!" Hu pointed to the nearest Window.

The Giant turned just in time to see the trail of exhaust fading away and heard the clatter of boots on stone above his head. "Mine." Ji snorted, strapping his weapon to his back and heading for the nearest window...

 

[Zark San Tekka]

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Crown Court Organization​

POV: Hakar​

NPC Forces: Exchange Enforcers, Exchange Tac Team​

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Desilijic Slaver's Grounds​

Exchange Perimeter // Status: Contested​

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"I don't like thisss..." the Trandoshan fixer hissed with displeasure, offering a prayer to his Scorekeeper while he yanked the tip of his double-blade out of a Kanjifighter's back, "Not my kind of ssscum..."

"Yes, its rather distasteful work I must agree," Ifan ben-Mezd, better known to his business associates as the Prince, was just a voice in his ear. The Exchange vigo was safe and sound in orbit aboard his luxury yacht the Queen of Air and Darkness, "Its why the Crown Court tends to avoid it. But we're associates with Lord Gorda, and Lord Gorda is associates with the Scaleskin Clan. You understand how these relationships work."

Hakar yanked a nearby retreating Nar Kanji fighter up by his neck, snapping it with brute strength before slashing at another with his blade's edge single handedly.

"Doesssn't mean I have to enjoy it," he growled at his comm implant, "Its coward'sss pay."

"Leave the reaving to the Scaleskins then, this is Kanjiclub territory. We've been hired to make certain there are no interruptions to Lord Gorba's joyous reunion with the Khan, so keep your men alert. Our presence here is bound to provoke a response from the locals."

A flurry of submachine gun fire roared through the city cross roads, his underlings cutting down another swathe of Kanjiclub in mid charge at their entrenched position. Hakar rolled his eyes. He had sent their strike team on ahead to the Palace of Dead Tyrants where they could be of some use as extra muscle in toppling this riff raff's leadership. Since their arrival, maintaining this perimeter had been bloody work, but the Prince wasn't one to linger on grisly details.

 

[Atlas Kane]

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Auxiliary Forces courtesy of the Pyke Syndicate​

Aiding in the reclamation of Hutt property​

Zu Leech City, Nar Kanji​

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Blaster bolts whizzed through the air, the crackling of electrified nets drowned out the silence between volleys. The panicked shouts of civilians echoed through the streets as Allied Hutt Forces and Kanjifighters engaged in brutal urban fighting. Amongst the Allied Hutt Forces were Pyke Warriors belonging to the reestablished Pyke Syndicate. Armed with stun rifles, net guns, and pulse carbines they battled their way through the comparatively primitive city. Years of warfare on their home planet of Oba Diah had made these veterans experts at this kind of warfare, though this was the first time they had to fight a prolonged battle in this kind of environment. Their leader, the Wsjirari Bael Eios, was observing their progress from a small carrier ship in orbit of Nar Kanji. Small probe droids painted the colour of Nar Kanji's sky were monitoring the Pyke teams' movements and transmitting the data to a tactical display within the command room of the Exalted.

The quiet chatter of various tactical analysts could be heard around the circular raised platform at the centre of the room upon which the Wsjirari's dais had been placed. Bael had decided to accompany the Pyke force to Nar Kanji in order to oversee their actions personally. A holographic representation of the city was being displayed in front of the Pyke leader, along with the positions of each Pyke soldier within the city. Hakar Asherasj stood opposite his superior on the other side of the display while the two of them observed and discussed, occasionally turning to relay new orders to the crew. The troops maintaining the blockade of the city's main exit roads appeared to be facing the least organised resistance whereas those who deployed within the city centre had quite the battle on their hands.

"Our mounted warriors should aid their earth-bound brethren. The Scale Skins are capable, they will see victory on the city borders on their own." The words Eios spoke seemed unnaturally amplified and the unique distortion inherent to Pyke voices only added to the sense of alien gravitas.

With a few quick words into his comm-unit the Hakar relayed the Orders of the Prophet. Within moments the holographic representation of what were four groups of Pykes warriors on swoop bikes moved inside the city, towards areas marked by high Kanjifighter activity. However, one team remained outside city limits, circling it, looking for any escapees. Eios nodded in response.

His gaze turned back towards the centre of the city, where fighting was fiercest. The Trandoshans and Exchange Enforcers were making good progress with the Pyke warriors matching their pace. Syndicate warriors had deployed to the smaller, narrower streets which resembled the dilapidated city sectors of their homeworld; territory within which they excelled. Casualties were minimal so far, the Kanjifighters and their slave allies were still too disorganised and scattered to mount an effective defensive, though this did not making the fighting easy. The defenders were backed into a corner, they showed zeal and their morale would not be broken easily, but it would be broken. Their feeble spirits were no match for the Will of the Wsjirari.

 

[Rhen Ordo]

Blaster bolts singed her fur, the pain only serving to fuel her anger and bloodlust. That would sting later, but revenge came swiftly. As soon as the man in charge shouted his warnings the blaster-fire slowed noticeably, and Cori used that to her advantage. Noting their unwillingness to injure anything that wasn't her, she used the cages as cover, slipping between the bars like liquid smoke. This would have been easier to manage as something bipedal, but it wouldn't have been as fun otherwise. There existed no better apex predator than her people in their primary form, and as effective as blasters were, it felt better being like this to kill.

Prowling the room, she pressed close to the wall, sticking to what little shadows existed as best she could. These weren't the ideal conditions she would have preferred, but at least she didn't stick out as much. Orange eyes darted about the room, picking out her next target as they fought to discern her form in the darkness that lingered on the edges of the room. It was almost deathly silent, the quiet broken only by the men occasionally shouting to one another, and their footsteps.

Her ears remained on a constant swivel, tail held in a stiffly horizontal position, her body crouched low to the ground. When she was like this she only existed when she willed it, was only seen or heard when it was too late for anything to be done. The scent of fresh blood flooded her senses as she licked the remaining crimson from her teeth, fangs perpetually bared as she stalked her former captors with a sort of predatory enjoyment in finding amusement in their fear and attempts to kill her, to no avail. She was in this for the credits just as much as a chance to stretch and remember what it feels like to be something more than just an illusion of humanity.

With incomparable ferocity she pounced atop the next unlucky Kanjifighter, his screams silenced by the cracking of bone as she crushed his skull in her jaws, fragments of bone and brain matter falling from her jaws as she stepped over the corpse, intent on her next target.

[member="The Underwriter (DM)"]

 

[Koda Fett]

NAR KANJI​

THE PALACE OF DEAD TYRANTS​

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Perhaps a Mandalorian's greatest ally is the armour he wears. It was the all-seeing-eye, the sword, the scalpel, the hammer and shield. There was nearly nothing that the piece of equipment, admired for it's raw killing power, could not do - or so it seemed that it was the case. This Jiant was soon to learn such a thing first hand. Although, it ultimately came down to the one that encased himself in such armour. The killing power of the individual is what mattered most and through years of experience beneath a helmet, as blood, ash and dirt was flung into his visor, Fett had known war, he had known it all. It was only ever the beasts of the Galaxy that surprised him most these days, just as those Rathtars had on Twon Ketee. Nast things, those.

​The scanning pulse revealed a rather large human, if not humanoid figure ascending out of the window. The Bounty Hunter lied in wait, watching and waiting for their body to reveal itself to the Mandalorian. His Carbine trained on the area they were soon to depart from, and in that moment he was to pull the trigger. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. A truth amongst all those legends.

[member="The Underwriter (DM)"]

 

[Arekk]

NAR KANJI​

The Drug Den, Zu Leech City ​

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INTERACTING WITH: [member="The Underwriter (DM)"] ​

The toxic air hit Ar'ekk like a point-blank shot straight in the face: something was not right about this. Behind him, the doors had already shut , and he was in for the ride. Kanji goons inside were spooked, but luck always came with a price tag. He didn't like the way the show started. But they had given him the best seat in the house. Front row center.

Plasma bolts whizzed close to his face, facing death once more as they ricocheted off the concrete wall and putting him into a heavy state of pressure and alert.

Firing back and making sure his allies provided him cover to move to a much more advantageous position, Ar'ekk lunged with his lightsaber and sliced limbs back and forth. Screams of agony, of men dying a slow death.

Too many memories flooded back. A flashback... Malachor V. Voices echoing around him of fallen comrades.

"Damn you, Ar'ekk! Why didn't you save us?"

There was a blind spot in his head, a bullet-shaped hole where the answers should be. Call it denial. Ar'ekk wanted to dig inside his skull and scrape out the pain.

"Go! Secure the rest of the den and make sure the spice can be salvaged!" He screamed at the Trandoshans as they cowardly hid.

Most of the job was done.

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[Darth Vulcanus]

The Pleasure Barge
Above the Palace of Dead Tyrants

Interacting with: [member="The Prince"] & [member="Bael Eios"]​

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"Looks like our friends are having fun," Jaeel remarked casually, his hand still pulling spiderwebs of Hutt slime away from the side of his face. The Exchange's Enforcers and The Pyke's swoop riders had moved in, cutting through the swaths of Kanjifighters as easily as Gorda had predicted.

All Jaeel saw, though, was a bloody axe slicing away at Gorda's profit margins. The Hutt may have been to caught up in the...splendor? of it all but once the battles were over he'd start questioning it. Not too unlike Zev Stargo in his early days.

"Gorda, shouldn't we - I don't know - talk to those guys? They are killing your credits down there after all." The Nabooian gave up on the slime, letting it cake to the side of his face now in hopes of a shower later.

Gorda stopped for a moment, grabbing the hooka hose curled on the ground and bringing it to his sliming lips, "Perhaps" a long drag of the aromatic smoke, "you are right. This is why you are kept around, Jaeel. Send a holo to Eios and that Prince - business is in order to be discussed."

Jaeel would do so, sending a conference call to the criminal leaders so that they could discuss the next moves after the city was taken.

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Sshask
1. Establish Desijilic Slave Operations on Nar Kanji
2. Be a Lizard Man

Interacting With:
[member="Bael Eios"]

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A sharp whine filled the air, then the ground shook for a moment and then Kanjifighters began disappearing into smears of black that jetted past the Trandoshans. Sshask's eyes grew wide, then narrowed again as he tried to see what had just happened - but just as quickly as they'd come the shadows were gone.

He was just about to give it up when the same whining filled the courtyard and again the herd of black smears grabbed up fleeing Kanjifighters. This time, however, Sshask could make out much more of what was happening.

Pykes on swoops were descending upon the Kanjifighters, dipping impossible between Trandoshan lines and snatching up the Kanjis in nets and with shock poles. "Yes-good! Pykes are moving swift-fast! Charge-take buildings!"

The scaleskins were far from the most literate of Trandoshans, but they made up for their lack of spoken intelligence with a ferocious predatory nature. Like a greentide the Trandoshans rushed towards the steep where Sshask had taken up cover - and all at once they threw themselves over it and onto the main courtyards of the government buildings.

Pulses of blue energy washed over the Kanjifighters, turning them into groaning piles of stunned flesh. With the Pykes cleaning up the courtyards, the Trandoshans could focus on the buildings and clear them out once and for all.

Running forward through the fray of blaster fire, Sshask lifted a clawed boot and smashed open the front doors of the capital building.

Other Lizard Bois
1. Help out Arekk
2. Murder-Death-Kill

Interacting With
[member="Arekk"]

There was something about mixed spices that made the heart grow fonder, right before the toxic mix drove you into a land of nightmares from which you come back a broken man. As the Trandoshans outside continued to lay down their fire on the safehouse a few houses down, those inside were beginning to freak out.

Really. REALLY bad.

The spice was taking its hold now and the spice house became, to them, something else entirely. One of the mercenaries began licking the walls, trying desperately to consume the frosted jelly that wasn't there. Yet another began swatting at his comrade, thinking he had become a giant Acklay.

Some even began shooting AT Arekk, too confused and high to realize he wasn't a fleeing wookiee.

 

[Arekk]

NAR KANJI​

The Drug Den, Zu Leech City ​

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INTERACTING WITH: [member="The Underwriter (DM)"] ​

Great.

Shots went back and forth, bullets ripping through flesh and bones like usual. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he took cover behind a concrete pillar. The spice was having positive effects against their enemies but also with his allies as they commenced to vociferate senseless things and acted crazy. What else that included? More shots yet this time more frenetic and in his direction.

"Shoot at them, you karkin' lizards!"

It's true what they say, time is relative to the observer. When you're looking down the barrel of a gun, time slows down. Your whole life flashes by, heartbreak and scars. Stay with it, and you can live a lifetime in that split second.

You come to, amidst the wreckage of your own making. Do you stay there, eyes squeezed shut, afraid to move, hoping to bleed to death? Or do you crawl out, help yourself, make sure the fire doesn't spread, try to fix it?

"Damnit! Get your act together, let--"

His voice was cut off as he became sorrounded by Kanjifighters and lizardmen, lightsaber cutting off limbs as they got in the way. It was inevitable and he couldn't help it, everything would be over soon. Ar'ekk killed more people than cholesterol and somehow there was still no sign of winning. It wasn't the first time it dawned on him he should probably have gone over the plan in more detail, but it was too late for that now.

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[Zark San Tekka]

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Crown Court Organization​

POV: The Prince​

NPC Forces: Exchange Enforcers, Exchange Black Hats​

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The Queen of Air and Darkness​

Nar Kanji Orbit​

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Gaunt and bony fingers danced nimbly across the keys of the valachord, its melodious tunes echoing off the yacht's primary entertainment complex. Normally this part of the ship was crowded with influential passengers, fully staffed by valets, bartenders, and musicians all under the employ of the Crown Court. But there were certain contractual obligations to Ifan ben-Mezd's line of business, ones that could do without a whole ship full of witnesses.

There was nowhere the Prince felt more secure than the Crown Suite back on Point Nadir, but as his interests in the Outer Rim grew he found that he considered this yacht a home away from home. It was the underworld equivalent of a mobile command center for him, so when a nervous valet approached him despite his explicit instructions that to do so without just cause would be most unwise, he was not surprised.

"Speak."

"We are being hailed," his servant uttered nervously, "Lord Gorda demands that you respond at once."

"Patch it through to my office."

Ifan rose from his valachord, but lingered to mix himself a cocktail at the nearby unattended bar. He gazed out the dance hall's viewport at the stormy brown rock below them. Nar Kanji was a miserable little world, and he could see little profit in taking it back save to assuage the Hutt Lords' vanity. But once Desilijic and the other cartels took control, the abused populace would be a narcotics electrum mine just waiting to be exploited. It was just good sabacc to back the sure winner here, and reap the rewards of earning their friendship in the process.

"Mighty Lord Gorda," Ifan bowed low when he had reached the yacht's private office, "I trust you find our most humble contributions to your grand victory here today satisfactory. It would seem this Kanjiklub has spread many lies about your people on this world. I am hopeful the great and benevolent master of the Desilijic Hutts will look favorably upon my organization's future enterprises here. We can wean these poor souls off such false propaganda with the proper medication."

[member="Gorda the Hutt"] appeared to him as a nearly full scale holographic representation in the center of the executive suite. Outfitted with holocameras, the Prince's own silken robed form was projected back to Gorda in a similar manner. Hutts were proud creatures, and despite his known reputation he had introduced himself simply as a representative of the Exchange named Amir, saving Gorda the indignity of acknowledging him by a royal title.