The Two Minute Rule

[Darth Empyrean]

Pergitor Shadowport

Cirqa 852 ABY

---

The day had been running thin on everyone’s patience, Squint having smoked his second pack of cigarettes as this group got into that position; all the while him and his crew were left with nothing to do but wait. His hand desperately rubbed his head as he tried to stave off the boredom, the distant moves of the station’s population offering a subtle backdrop through the few layers of durasteel separating them.

His crew and him had spent weeks on the shadowport, posing as a neutral security party for the massive amount of credits that ran through the station, using most of their experience breaking up the occasional drunken brawl or arresting some smart mouthed alien for trying to get by the taxes. It was tiresome, the day in and day out drivel of peacekeeping; nothing something he much cared to accept as an occupation, and for good reason, there simply wasn’t enough money in it.

No, all of those in league with his organization had been brought on over the course of months for one specific heist; something he never had to worry about the details of. He was given a fake identity that got him through the vetting process, and he’d stuck with the pseudonym of ‘Tiro Baress’ for about as long as he could handle; much of his associates doing the same. The day came however, for them to put their plan in motion;

A sudden radiocall interrupted his train of thought as he glanced over,

“Mother Bird, this is Officer 34-86K, I got a Code 9. Section 88, requesting immediate backup.”

It wasn’t one of his men, but it was the exact sign they were looking for. Somewhere else in the station, a hostage situation had begun and a standoff was beginning to take place; the perfect distraction from their mundane day to day operations, all for the chance at a fortune. A smile crept on his lips as he walked out of his office, offering a sharp whistle to anyone nearby;

“Load up, boys. Looks like we’ve got a situation.”

With that, anyone he could muster was quickly armed to the teeth and moved to the disturbance. Only a few amongst them knew the situation in reality, but the sudden stir of events was enough to bring the prying eyes of just about anyone on the station.


Somewhere in 'Tiro Baress's office, a small holopad screen came to life, the soft static offering nothing but a singular symbol;

 

[Nilia Saavilin]

The Outer Rim, Pergitor Shadowport, Aboard An Unidentified Vessel, Conference Room, Undetermined Time
Getaway/Logistical Support | Assisting GenoHaradan | Combating Outer Rim Coalition ~ Punchin' Bag
——————————————————————

"Miss Saavilin--" "Nilia, Eyris, it's alright, just call me Nilia." "--Are you sure we should be doing this?"

Should we? The information broker and mafioso mulled that over in her head as she regarded the holographic display on the conference table, her skittish Togruta lieutenant carrying a few datapads in her pale yellow arms nearby. Nil's eyes then flicked over to the viewport, where she could just make out the gorgeous glass structure nestled atop an asteroid. From the distance, almost appeared like a precious gem lodged in rock.

All ready to be pried out by those with the right tools.

Well. It was a good thing she had brought her crowbar.

"Yes, I'm sure. This is good for us." Slow and measured steps carried her around the large table, eyeing it with an unmistakable air of suspicion. Sure, she was wrapped up in this, and had been for a while. That didn't make her feel any comfortable aboard this vessel when she could be on her own liner operating from the comfort of systems and rooms she knew well. This boardroom reeks of novelty. Reminding her of hushed political meetings that she might have hosted, a time ago, even deigned to partake in. Shaking her head to physically banish the thoughts and associated memories, her focus returned in a sharp feeling in her gut as a few displays began to blink and appear in the space above the holograms. Once again, that predictive sense that she couldn't quite pin down served to alert her to action beginning. At once the woman lunged a little, setting a hand on the smooth surface impatiently as nigh-manic eyes scanned the reading being poured out. And with a mouth twisted in a wry smile, she mused, "It's starting." That hand then reached to key a communicator, [member="Arekk"], who was on the heisting team, would soon receive a casual message of, "How does it look down there?" From an unmodulated 'Fortuna' operating on a private channel, who had that smile they knew well audible in her voice.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: PERGITOR SHADOWPORT, ORC TERRITORY
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
OBJ: HOSTAGE CRISIS

CURRENT MOOD: UNEASY

They had grabbed her off the street.

Cara Barathus was a negotiator by trade. She was a common face within the Shadowport, mediating deals between criminal organizations, keeping the peace however she could for the Coalition. Cara was a dignified friend, a kind woman, and a loving mother of three.​

​

She had been walking through an alley when a large gloved hand covered her mouth, a pinching on her throat enough to silence her scream of protest.​

​

THE HIGHRISE CASINO​

​

Ghorua knew it was the only way to attract enough attention.

The locale had been chosen months prior to the operation. The Highrise was a tall casino, each floor a different flavor of chance. On one, a sabacc tournament. On another, an enormous row of slot machines. Another still, Dejarik matches, or animal races, or gladiatorial droid fights. The penultimate floor was rather empty, however, acting as a viewing area for guests and security alike. This was where Ghorua and his compatriots forced everyone out, taking over the floor and the security feed, with their hostage in tow.

To his right, a new face, long and insectoid. The Verpine was a collegiate of [member="Atlas Kane"], and Ghorua was assured he would be beneficial in the trying times to come. Ghorua didn't know what to think of the man, only what he was told upon reputation.

To his left, a face everyone in the galaxy knew; [member="Koda Fett"]. Why they kept being teamed up in recent times, Ghorua couldn't tell you. Maybe it was the fact that they were both cunning individuals with like-minded strategic minds and a penchant for causing a little mayhem. Maybe it was luck.

The Shark wore his armor, and his weapons, with a familiarity that can only come with experience. His unseen dark eyes scanned the video feeds of the building with studied caution. Most of the patrons had thus far been ignorant to the imminent danger above them, but the flood of fearful emotions spread further and further down the skyscraper as people ran from the top. It was only a matter of time before they made a scene.

It was almost too perfect.

The woman was gagged and tied up in a nearby chair, currently still unconscious. The Herglic felt a stab of guilt before banishing it. He had a job, and he would do it.

Despite the hesitation, Ghorua forced out an easy chuckle, gesturing to the feed. "Anyone wanna take bets on how long until a response?"

They were in a casino, after all. No harm in a little wager.

- [member="The Slave"] -
*edited

 

[Arekk]

https://soundcloud.com/user-301963347/hans-zimmer-mountains-interstellar-soundtrack​

​

THE OUTER RIM​

Pergitor Shadowport ​

---

---

INTERACTING WITH: [member="Nilia Saavilin"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Lupus"], [member="Koda Fett"]​

"Quiet. Too quiet for my likeness."

The transmission on the private channel was immediately replied as Ar'ekk contemplated the horizon for any suspicious movement. Everything was quiet like the calm before a storm, something rubbed him off the wrong way.

Thankfully, Ar'ekk wasn't alone on this. [member="Lupus "]would provide him cover as he reached the vault and tried to get it open, simply hoping that he wouldn't run away should things turned south.

Slinged on his right shoulder was his backpack that contained multiple datapads, flash drives and a countless of other gadgets to gain complete access to the vault. Cigarette after cigarette, he tried to calm his nerves before going for the big job.

Sure, he was there for the adrenaline and not the money but feeling a little nervous was part of the rush he enjoyed. Time passed by fast as his watch tick-tocked away, drawing everyone a little closer to the "heist of heists."

"How does it look from over there?"

---

---

 

[Koda Fett]

OUTER RIM COALITION TERRITORY​

PERGITOR SHADOWPORT​

HIGHRISE CASINO​

​

Fett wasn't a gambling man. It involved something that was out of his control, unless he decided to cheat. He wasn't much for cheating, or for a smooth tongue; the kind that took one glance in another's direction and sent shivers running up an invertebrates spine. His analytical mind was one for facts, figures, truths, not chance- he took nothing beyond a calculated risk. Even then, the Mandalorian was always certain he had the upper-hand. Nothing had led him to believe otherwise so far. However, his neck was prone to sticking itself out after an immensely generous number of credits were thrown his way, of course. That is, in fairness, just how Bounty Hunters are.

His right hand's index finger rested right next to the trigger of the Carbine that he propped up against his shoulder, allowing the barrel of such a weapon to point at the ceiling. Nobody was locked into his sight just yet. His T-Visor'd Helmet, or Face, cast a glance in the direction of the Leviathan. Admittedly, if he had to work with anyone, it was Ghorua. Despite their past grievances, he wasn't a loud-mouth, he didn't think of himself as the bounty hunting deity, and he got the job done. It was more Fett could say about most.

The Bounty Hunter had pivoted the head on his shoulders to face the main entrance into the Casino's Highrise floor that they resided on, taking note of the Laser Webs he had recently installed, yet kept discreet enough and deactivated for the time being. A smirk almost creased across his lips. For now, he waited. That hostage was bound to attract the attention of the others.

Unfortunately for Ghorua, Koda didn't have an answer. Seems he was betting on his own. For now.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] - [member="Atlas Kane"] - [member="The Slave"]

 

[Lupus]

THE OUTER RIM

Pergitor Shadowport

Interacting With: [member="Arekk"] | [member="Nilia Saavilin"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Koda Fett"]

Gear: See Bio

Lupus was a man of many things, but being courageous wasn't among his otherwise despicable characteristics. Normally he wouldn't directly involve himself in a mortal predicament, he viewed his own life as far too valuable to be squandering away with muscle he'd normally hire to protect himself from the even nastier forces that lurked among the shadows and streets of the core worlds. But alas, this was his line of work. His profession.

To be free, to choose his own destiny. He refused to let anyone tell him how to live his life, nor did he subscribe to any idea or particular discipline. Among the vastness of the stars, Lupus truthfully knew very little about how things actually functioned. How worlds had fallen to the detriment of the Sith, how the Jedi are no more noble in cause than the aforementioned.

Ignorant, arrogant, a coward. Always having his life practically handed to him on a silver platter.

"I hope you understand that this predicament in no way obligates me for future contracts. But I do like money, and this is certainly a way to achieve it."

Like the spoiled child he was, Lupus was growing impatient and flustered. Wanting only what he desired without so much as an inkling of care for anybody else involved in the objective. But he wouldn't dare speak up about it, he was far too spineless.

Just another spoiled rich kid with wasted potential.

 

[Vora Kaar]

Security Team
Gear - In Sig(Possessions)
Nearby - [member="The Slave"],
Other Allies - [member="Lupus"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Arekk"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Nilia Saavilin"],

Holding the datapad as a woman before me was bawling her eyes out. In her hand was a small child. She was attempting to pass through the shadowport illegally. She had been hidden on a ship I was tasked with Inspecting. Wasn't that hard to find them in fact. They were just off into the side and hiding behind the grate in the cargo bay of the Smugglers ship. I was running through the information of what this woman had given me. She continued to cry her eyes out because we were clearly not going to let her get into the shadowport.

"Castanic. Shut that slag up."
"Sir, she is crying. Let her get it out now rather than when she is traveling with you."
"Fair point."

Being a semi-new recruit who was part of the security team that would be taking care of the shadow port, dealing with aliens, illegal, and legal to prevent fights and break them up, I still had a bruise on my left arm when I had to push aside a man, and he wanted to fight back. I hated the fact that I had to dye my hair and wear contacts to change my eye color. Nasty brown with blue eyes. I hated myself every time I looked in the mirror to make sure I looked fine. To play my part in this sting op.

"Mother Bird, this is Officer 34-86K, I got a Code 9. Section 88, requesting immediate backup."

The call came over the com system. Arching my eyebrow within the security helmet I was wearing, I looked around me. Seeing the other men who were already doing their job, or just holding at the current moment. Turning to the current head of our little group, John Doe whistled and gave the word for us to move into action. Shoving the datapad into my superior officer, I turned away from him and spoke as I walked towards the doors along with a couple others who were in our group.

"I got this. May as well deal with it now."
"You young blood always looking for a fight aint ya?"
"It's called being stupid sir."

Even as I began to walk away from the man, I reached down to the holster on my right thigh. Taking the strap off of the blaster I carried with me. Moving in behind John, I shook my head as we were walking away. Voicing softly to ourselves.

"Let's get this done. Incognito is killing me."

 

[Nilia Saavilin]

The Outer Rim, Pergitor Shadowport, Aboard An Unidentified Vessel, Conference Room, Undetermined Time
Getaway/Logistical Support | Assisting GenoHaradan | Combating Outer Rim Coalition ~ Punchin' Bag
——————————————————————

How does it look? Her smile widened, the hint of teeth showing now.

"Exactly how I'd like it to look, my dear. It seems there are a few disturbances aboard the station, how unfortunate is that for our lawfully-minded friends." That was the voice of a pleased hunter who just scored a fat kill. Add licking lips and rubbing hands and a wicked laugh, and she was a step closer to being a supervillian. Maybe one with better fashion sense, though, and that thought only made the smile turn the slightest bit smug.

Following a thoughtful hum, she continued, "You should be prepared to move soon. How is your new friend doing?" [member=Arekk] had all sorts of new friends these days, but she did as well -- Nothing quite like the hayday of Senator and Jedi, now was it? And yet still the Force remained, if not a little darker and dimmer. Like a star going to sleep. Might be at risk of going supernova. Nilia's eyes looked over to the viewport again, and to the station where hell was about to break loose. Probably already had.
Puppetry was a hobby she could get into.

 

[Arekk]

THE OUTER RIM​

Pergitor Shadowport ​

---

---

INTERACTING WITH: [member="Nilia Saavilin"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Lupus"], [member="Koda Fett"]​

"I trust you will keep me entertained during this whole thing, sweetheart"

His smile multiplied tenfold.

Igniting the last cancer stick of the evening and enjoying the sour taste left behind on his taste buds, Ar'ekk gave his heist team partner Lupus a once over. A little rough on the edges, perhaps too arrogant and cocky but capable of pulling a job like this. He needed to be on his a hundred percent in case things went south or their trip to the vault would be shortest of all time.

"Could be worse. You know how it is, we've deal with awful lots before."

How many jobs Fortuna and Icebreak had pulled off by now? Too many to count, except the money that came flooding like an Eadu thunderstorm during the winter season. Nevertheless, the clock continued to tick tock unceasingly which drew them closer to actually doing this crazy stunt.

"Let's go."

---

---

 

[Thraxis]

Objective: Serve as Distraction
Loadout:

Spoiler

Chasis: Thraxis Armour Helmet: Enigma Gas Mask
Cloak: Phantasm Cloak Greave: Thraxis Armour
Pauldron: Thraxis Armour Foot: Thraxis Armour
Melee: Cruciatus Blade Overcoat: None
Rifle: DEMP Sidearm: Pistolas
Misc: Null Generator Hand-to-Hand: Vambrace

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Ding. Ding. Ding.​

Ding. Ding...​

​

Silence.​

​

In the straddling commotion, he had found himself locked down in a bar, the glaring lights, the dancing girls and all the rest was a hodgepodge of sickening fantasy. He was dressed to the nines in a fancy attire, his face more reminiscent of Scarface as he tossed a bundle and trundle of credits to the barkeep. "Three cups of the strongest." He gave a wave, brushing them off as an earpiece snapped out of a static entrancement. Work had started. He rolled a finger through his collar, flipping it up as if he was some cool kid from the Nineties. Now all he needed was his pants hanging halfway down his legs and some frosted tips and he could pass as one of the cool kids.

But, now was not the time for style. Now, was the time for progress. Revolution. His pay.​

​

He snapped from his seats, an attendee girl brushing pass him as he cupped her platter, pulling it from her delicate fingertips and into his own. He slipped and slid, he was now no longer Thraxis, but a mere serving boy, members of aristocracy and wannabe courtiers grabbed and plucked at his platter of a feast, snatching away his goods to eat as he made it to the Elevator.

He had chosen an opportune time, no one had stumbled in and gave him the luxury of comfort. He took in a deep breath, that classic elevator music dinging about as he dropped his platter, pressed for Penultimate and stretched his shoulders. To the untrained eye he was a common serving boy, to the trained he was a serving boy.

So, with a department of robes, he looked to the roof of the Elevator, a kick off the wall and a punch to the Hatch, it came off its hinges with a premeditated crack, another jump, kick off the wall and up he climbed just in time for the machine to pause, came to a halt and the doors to swing idly as a possie of man-children came rolling in with women dressed all in red.

Him on the other hand, he unzipped a well-placed bag, a bag that had seen more bloodshed than a newborn baby and seen more bombs go off than homeland security and had been patched. This Duffel bag almost glowed as Thraxis stripped out bits and pieces, clothing snapping into place as he dressed himself to the Nines. This was a casino, even the elevators were a cacophony of noise and colour. The sound of something unzipping wouldn't prove a burden on the eardrums of those below.

But as the machine came to a halt, he rolled back down, a mess of black, swords and guns rolled out as the penultimate floor was reached and there he finally saw them gathered. A Mandalorian, a Shark and a hostage. All the right flavours put together, he took a few steps out, his words a hushed mess of granite static, hovering in and out with cracks and flicks before a steady stream of noise flowed out, "You two hired by... What's his face too?" He inquired, his covered fingers clawed at the back of his mask, he felt an air of caution was the best bit of measure to take around mystery employer, after all, he Recognized Ghorua the Fish from years back, the Mandalorian? Well. He knew a Fett when he saw one. Guy had been dead for a hundred years or so and people still went on about that last name.
---------
[member="Ghorua the Shark"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="The Slave"]

 

[Cadmon Geller]

He tried his best to do right, stay on the straight and narrow, but there was only so much someone like him could do. The underworld was just about the only place an ex-Blackblade could find work, both the light and the dark were liable to execute him rather than let him aboard. Cadmon knew what the galaxy saw him as, and he didn't care to change it, not anymore. He'd settle for hurting those he deemed worthy later, for now, all that mattered was the job.

For weeks he'd played the part of security, hardheaded, but good, a lot like someone he'd known. Being completely honest Cadmon had based his performance on what she'd do, and found that a part of him almost wished it wasn't an act. The criminal who wanted to be a cop, he was sure that was the plot of a holoflick somewhere, some comedy with a message about doing the right thing or some chit. Didn't matter, because today was the day he shed the false identity, the call came through.

"Mother Bird, this is Officer 34-86K, I got a Code 9. Section 88, requesting immediate backup."

Cadmon broke off from where he'd been standing and fell in with the others wordlessly. Reaching down to his thigh, he thumbed a switch on his blaster, setting it to stun. Killing was ultimately sloppy, and not the end goal, they were here to steal, not commit a massacre. That was how he rationalized it anyway. The truth was the idea of mowing down civilians wasn't something he could stomach the way he had when he'd marched across the galaxy in the name of House Zambrano.

"Just keep it clean." The mercenary grumbled in the direction of Irons. Playing a role made one want to go all out once they were finally permitted to drop the act in his experience, it made people trigger happy. Maybe Shaun and the enigma Doe weren't the type, maybe they were, you never knew in the heist business. Not until blaster bolts started flying.

[member="Shaun Irons"] - [member="The Slave"]​

 

[Lupus]

THE OUTER RIM

Pergitor Shadowport

Interacting With: [member="Nilia Saavilin"] | [member="Arekk"]

Lupus chuckled at the man he was partnered with, but held his tongue as to not instigate any undue stress. He did at least understand that this kind of mission was rather delicate, and that one loose end could unravel the integrity of a heist. He also understood that death was very much a likely factor; Lupus was no soldier, nor a veteran of anything. This thought alone worried him slightly, slowly expanding within his own chest as a growing anxiety.

There was no turning back now, and Lupus had to see this through until the end. The idea of credits managing to counter-balance with the adrenaline and fear, allowing the young man to feed from his own passion, his strong will to be recognized for all the wrong reasons. He yearned for the glory of a moment, the rush of euphoria and excitement.

The young nobleman tagged along with his comrade nonetheless, reaching within his dark azure cloak to retrieve his apparatus, slowly placing it over his head. A guise meant to keep a low profile when action occurred. It didn't serve as protection for his cranium very well, yet it suited Lupus' personal tastes.

"And how are we to flee if things go wrong? I don't even know your name."

Lupus paused for a second

"On second thought, perhaps it's better that way."

He fell silent, focusing on his breathing. His heartbeat quickened, the anxiety biting at his nerves.

 

[Vora Kaar]

Security Team
Gear - In Sig(Possessions)
Nearby - [member="The Slave"], [member="Cadmon Geller"],
Other Allies - [member="Lupus"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Arekk"], [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Nilia Saavilin"],

As much as I wanted this job to get done as fast as possible, I knew well that this needed to be done correctly, the first time. There would be no second chances with this. Nor would my contractor like it if I were to fail, or do less than a stellar job. As we exited the current port we were in, my slip of the tongue had garnered some attention from another member of our group. Apparently he felt the need to tell me that we needed to keep it clean. Considering the contractor, John here, wanted it clean to begin with, that much was very clear.

Part of me wanted to retort back. A small voice in my head was egging me on to give something back. However, This was not the time, nor place to do that. Plus, this operation was something that needed to be done quickly. Reaching down to the watch on my wrist, I pressed the button as we sped up our pace to meet our time. We still had much to do.

"All part of the job."

My left hand slowly reached down to my thigh. During my first days working undercover, I had asked for a size larger than I really needed. I was carrying my gear with me all the time. You never knew when you might need it, added to this fact that anything we had left here, was considered gone. This job was something that needed to be done when the opportune time arose. This so happened to coincide with the taking of a hostage, likely from one of our other groups that were performing this operation.

My left hand entered my pocket. A simple hole was cut into the security uniform that would allow me to grab for my blades. Small as they may be, they were held in a holster and kept away from sight. While it only looked as though I was digging around in my pocket, I was unlocking the strap around the top of the baton in it's sheath. Not quite time to pull weapons out, nor expose ourselves. Reaching to my vest, I pressed the com button for dispatch. Simply speaking about the situation at hand.

"This is Officer 67-85C Responding to Code 9. Enroute."

Seeing as how there would be quite a few security guards that would be wondering why we had left, We had to create an alibi for ourselves. Showing that we were on our way would get us out of the sight of other guards that were paying more attention to the various lockdown procedures, as well as the hostage situation. In a bit when we would be called up, we would likely have to call out a reason for us not showing up. However, that was all part of the game right? Illusion and deceit.

 

[Nilia Saavilin]

The Outer Rim, Pergitor Shadowport, Aboard An Unidentified Vessel, Conference Room, Undetermined Time
Getaway/Logistical Support | Assisting GenoHaradan | Combating Outer Rim Coalition ~ Punchin' Bag
——————————————————————

"You'll manage with him, I'm sure," Eyes danced from one screen to another -- Security was gearing up to respond to a Code 9. Code 9? Must have been kidnapping, but was it too much to ask for certain situational codewords to be standardized across security lingo? Letting out a tsk, she keyed her communicator again, "Everything's falling into place. And, yes, I'm the one watching over, I still know how to have fun. Just try and keep it serious when it matters." Levity could come after this all was done with, that could be enjoyed with a fine bottle of something old and a few smart smiles.

"However-- I hope you're all not standing around looking at each other, you should be getting into position."

"The distraction is about to hit peak-distraction."

Truthfully Nilia didn't know much, if any, of the other associates at play here. It was irritating, especially as a literal broker of information, to look at the board and being unable to identify all the pieces at play, beyond [member="Arekk"], of course. Sure, she'd heard a few mutters that a Fett was here, and some old Sith trooper, but beyond that?

She was in the dark, except for the need-to-know. And that was how the GenoHaradan worked. She could live with that.

For now.

 

[Arekk]

THE OUTER RIM​

Pergitor Shadowport ​

---

---

INTERACTING WITH: [member="Nilia Saavilin"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Lupus"], [member="Koda Fett"]​

"I've always been serious, right?"

Static could be heard from his side until it paved the way to a short laugh.

Giving a sweeping glance to his comrade and aid for tonight's big score and nodding, Ar'ekk held to his backpack tight enough and signaled him to follow with his index finger. Reaching the bank's entrance and walking through the revolving doors, he'd surveyed the sorroundings until his eyes could lay upon a panel on the wall that was hidden away from plain sight.

"I'll deactivate the security cameras and hopefully the entire system, it might give us an extra ten minutes while we open the vault."

Two security guards stood firmly by the vault, behind them was a metallic door that was definitely unbreakeable and electronically sealed by a very complex safety mechanism that was operated through a computer in a nearby room. To gain complete access to the vault, he would need to slice his way into the building's infrastructure, plant a backdoor virus and gain master access to open it.

Now, the vault itself was something else and he'd need a considerate amount of time to get it open. It wasn't as easy as typing into your keyboard and hope that the codes and programs you had spent a year and a half writting for this moment worked immediately. But he was good at this and the money inside would be theirs.

All they needed was patience.

"We are set. Let me know when it's going down, I'll shut everything off." A hand reached for the headset on his right ear, communcating with Nilia for a second before cutting off.

Wall panel unscrewed and one button away from shutting the security system, Ar'ekk and Lupus were ready to roll the ball and start the show.

---

---

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Outer Rim Coalition
Pergitor Shadowport

Interacting With │ [member="Ghorua the Shark"], [member="Koda Fett"], [member="Shaun Irons"], [member="Cadmon Geller"]
_________________________________________________


The speeder rushed through the spaceport with a clean elegance. Lockdown procedures had already gone out, and many of the citizens in the district would be in their apartments, looking out at the growing concern of the hostage situation. Squint sighed, rubbing his head slightly as the lack of nicotine in his system suddenly started to take effect. He really needed to slow down on smoking.

In the transport, another eight men were with him. Two of them were in league with him, while the rest were traditional forces, nothing to concerning, he only hoped the other teams would do their part. If not, the security team likely had the biggest threat to themselves, as the contingency was to turn on the other security. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to a full blown gunfight, though the thought forced his hand to rest on the holstered Vora in his pocket.

“We’re here.”, the drive offered them as the group began to unload from the vehicle with their armor and helmets held tight. Should the situation arise, they were ready to breach and clear, though something told him that it might cost a few of them their lives if it came down to it.

Response time was less than two minutes.

As ‘Tiro Baress’ stepped up to the original officer, he gave him a slight nod before speaking;

“What’s the situation?”

“At least three individuals holed up on the thirteenth floor. Hostage’s name is Cara Barathus.”

Not a bad catch, all things considered. Half the security force was bought out by local groups that had something to do with Cara, helped their situation out. ‘Tiro’ nodded before the officer continued;

“Floors below have been cleared. No communication has been set up yet.”

With that, ‘Tiro’ slapped the man on the back with a small grin, glancing upwards before motioning for their local slicing expert.

“Get me in contact with that floor.”

“Understood, Sergeant.”

Another minute went by as more security began to show up. A total of 27 now stood outside, slowly falling out of ‘Tiro’s ability to keep track of which side most were on. He imagined they were outnumbered regardless. A soft sight left his lips as the slicer came back with a small phone, dialing that exact floor.

The lack of static showed someone answered.

“This is Sergeant Tiro Baress. How are you doing up there? Is the hostage alright?”, he said glancing to the floor they were on. He hoped they were smart enough to stay out of the windows.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: PERGITOR SHADOWPORT, ORC TERRITORY
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
OBJ: HOSTAGE CRISIS

​

THE HIGHRISE CASINO​

​

Ghorua offered no further small talk as [member="Koda Fett"] and the Verpine didn't respond to him. Each hunter had their own ways of coping with the stress of a job. The Shark preferred light banter, a little ribbing to keep him sharp. Others were the strong, silent type.

At the moment, their hostage was a silent type. Because she was unconscious.

On second thought, maybe I should leave the jokes for another time.

Ghorua looked to the far wall, where the window of the floor was. It was tinted glass, to offer the observers a modicum of privacy, so he wasn't worried about them being seen. He was worried about a team bursting through, but the team would deal with that problem in due time.

Suddenly, the elevator dinged, and Ghorua braced for an attack, seeing only the lithe frame of [member="Thraxis"] step through. He knew the man from a long time ago, his first employer for his first bounty. Thraxis was a vicious fighter and torturer, and Ghorua knew for a fact he didn't want to get on his bad side.

"Sure," the Shark ventured, not willing to say much more. The area was secure, but he didn't take unnecessary chances. "I was told to expect you. Could you be a dear and disable the lift?" The Herglic kept his eyes on the security feed, but finally placed his helmet on his head, feeling the comfort and security that came with it.

The security detail arrived not much later, a small mob of law enforcement, or what passed for it on the shadowport. Ghorua felt a surge of confidence, and waited for the expected call. When it came, Ghorua was ready for it, standing by the security console. He pressed the button, activating the speaker, and the voice of the sergeant. He waited a lazy ten seconds before responding, simply tapping his finger on the metal surface.

Ghorua was a pretty good actor.

"I'm afraid that answer's gonna cost you, Sarge." The cetacean's voice was smooth and easy, with all of the confidence he was famous for. "How much is the hostage's well-being worth to you? Respond with an offer, I might be tempted to reply."

He took his finger off the button, and sighed. This job would either consist of a lot of action, or a lot of boring conversations.

- [member="The Slave"] - [member="Atlas Kane"] -

 

[Kyle Farnes]

Combat was in his upbringing, not necessarily his blood, but Kyle was a soldier of fortune, at one point an Alliance Pathfinder who became a Warden, and then found, a number of years ago, the Mandalorians, and bonded with the clan he now called family. It meant a lot of running around for him, but it also meant a lot of pulling technology and merging into his own armor. But that was something else entirely.

A soldier of fortune, but one who had a specific code in mind, the Mando was here to help the Alliance. Not officially on the payroll, more working as a part of the Smuggler’s Alliance, moving people and things through the underground, and striking at those who got in his way. Intensity in combat, that was what he brought, and not some dogma about the Force. Maybe the Coalition would be good for the Alliance.

He was here to fight, and to help. And win.

But now? He was making his way to the Pergitor Shadowport. Time for some refueling and supplies. And after that? Who knew.

 

[Atlas Kane]

​

PoV: Verpine Hunter under the employ of Atlas Kane
Location: Highrise Casino, Top Floor
Side: The GenoHaradan
Equipment: Vibro-Greatsword, several Vibroknives
Interacting With: [member=Ghorua the Shark], [member=Koda Fett], [member=Thraxis].
Hostage Team

---

An assignment from his 'master' came to him through the Force earlier this day, a location, a few faces, and a simple command "Do as you are told." The location had been a luxurious casino on a rock drifting through space. The faces had only been flashes, closer to impressions than portraits, but they were burned into his mind. A fish's head, a helmet with a T-Visor, and a Pink-faced humanoid. They all carried the connotations of 'friend'. Then there was another face, a female humanoid painted in usual humanoid colours. The impression of prey, a prized catch came with that one, along with a strong aversion to seeing her blood. It had always been curious to the Verpine. The information was often cryptic in nature, yet when he was in the moment it made perfect sense. As though his master always gave him just enough information to act according to some greater plan, but not enough to question what he was to do. But why would he question? The hunter's hunger was sated whenever he was released into the wilds, his blade never dulled when the images came.

Walking alongside the other hunters the Verpine stood out. He smelled of old leather rags, with a faint smell of decay that clung to him as it would to a rat. Whereas they wore modern armours, steel plates upon steel plates, blending well into the technological backdrop of the asteroid's artificial habitat, he was clad in layers upon layers of faded brown leather, face hidden behind hide scraps and large round glasses tinted a solid white, his neck and shoulders adorned with some type of thick black fur that was everything but smooth. His appearance was more akin to that of a street beggar, or a primitive man than a Bounty Hunter, yet the unusually large sword he carried on his back was an unmistakable sign of a deadly profession. It was maintained about as well as he was, with shallow cracks and dents all over the blade.

Despite his appearance, or maybe because of it, he made for an intimidating sight alongside the other Hunters, which had allowed for a quick and easy evacuation of the highest floor. The room they found themselves in was quite big, with a high ceiling and plenty of covers to use should someone attempt to storm their floor. While the Fishman's interest was given to the security feeds and the elevator, the Verpine's eyes wandered across the room. He took in the details, memorised its layout, and adopted the floor as his new hunting grounds. Without a word he jumped upwards, gloved hand catching on a ceiling-mounted decoration which he used to pull himself up into the jungle of chandeliers, rafters, and ornaments affixed to steel cable garlands. Above the lights, he appeared like a shadow stalking the world below. This was far more his element than the world below. After a few seconds of exploring his new domain he decided it best if he remained above the hostage, for now, hanging upside down, low enough so the fellow hunters would still be able to see him.

He simply stared at the others working below him, seemingly more interested in observing.

 

[Koda Fett]

OUTER RIM COALITION TERRITORY​

PEGITOR SHADOWPORT​

HIGHRISE CASINO​

​

The Bounty Hunter hadn't any words to exchange; nothing had changed, this was the usual. His knee had been planted upon the marble flooring of the Casino in which they housed themselves within. Ahead of him was a rather thin, bland hallway with only a rug across the flooring and a framed portrait present upon the walls here and there. There were strange items scattered across the, unidentifiable to the untrained individual, and even at first glance they may be mistaken as an odd decoration. In reality, however, they were laser webs. Soon to be ready to function. A glance into the T-Visor was to reveal the reflection of one gloved hand tapping away at a gauntlet, ensuring the readiness of the trap he had put out.

Fett's head had rolled around his shoulder in the process of standing, his Carbine's strap rolling off of his shoulder, allowing the weapon to be caught within his grip. The T-Visor swivelled slowly to each member of this 'team', a term he may use lightly. His booted feet creating an echo with each step taken, approaching the shark who lied through this cerated teeth. Finding himself curious as to what they were truly saying, but it was something that never showed.

For now he waited. There wasn't much else to do but consider exit points, evaluate the effective areas to pin oneself inside.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] - [member="The Slave"] - [member="Thraxis"] - [member="Atlas Kane"]