Private There’s no easy way out

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Mid Rim, Linur​

Inside a bar stand that was half way crowded sat a scar-faced woman in her late twenties with shoulder length dark hair. She wore an emerald jacket with a matching shirt, gloves and pants with black boots and had twin blaster pistols. The now unarmored Mandalorian had her eyes closed while holding a half full glass of local whiskey in her right hand. To any observer who cared to notice they would see Minerva appeared to be dozing while sitting up straight. In reality she was trying to keep herself calm, fighting the urge to rage.

Shortly after the mission on Taris she had learned of the Cathar massacre wrought by the Neo-Crusaders. Part of her wasn't surprised by their blood lust but the fact they chose Cathar boiled Minerva's blood. They just couldn't resist reopening that ancient wound between them and that world's people. Mass murdering innocents for the thrill of it and some elitist‘s dogma. Just thinking about what happened caused Minerva to suddenly squeeze her cup so much that it shattered, spilling alcohol and glass pieces on the stand.

Alarmed, the warrior looked down at the mess she wrought and groaned. Fortunately the right glove protected her hand but the action had consequences.

"Hey!!" The green Ithorian bartender exclaimed through her vocalizer. Embarrassed by what happened Minerva pulled out some coins.

"Sorry about that. Here you go. For the glass and another round."

Eyeing up the coins for another moment the barkeep sighed loudly before taking the coins.

"Fine but break another glass and you're paying triple for it."

Nodding Minerva folded her arms together and waited while some Rodian romance music played in the background.

Tag: Finley

 

[Finley]

Weapons: Modified Blaster, Twin Trench Knives, Crush Gaunts
Location: Local Pub
Tags: Minerva Fhirdiad​

The atmosphere in the pub was typically the same from bar to bar. Gamblers, outlaws, thieves, traffickers -- all these personalities melded together to make the rowdy crowd. The band blared the music in the background, patrons admiring the whole time -- drunks lining up new rounds, new and old lovers drowning their sorrows... it was the perfect place for anything to happen, a bomb, primed and ready to ignite.

The sound of spurs ringing in the air seemed to rise above the humdrum of the bar, its eerie cadence foreshadowing the entrance of some unknown being. As the sound came closer, a white haired Echani man entered the pub. Nothing about this man was meant to blend in, not from his hair, not from his red jacket -- nor the boots that rang aloud with their hypnotic song. Walking down the middle of the room and straight to the bar counter, Finn's eyes scanned the room for his prey -- the trio was here, he knew they had to be. Titling his shades down just slightly, he muttered something inaudible to the Itorian bar keeper, which like most transactions, he slid a credit chit across the bar and then was given a shot of whiskey. Reaching into his jacket, Finn pulled out a deathstik, lighting it and then taking a long draw on it as he turned around, head slightly slack towards the ground and once again scanned the room ever so nonchalantly.

In the corner, three Rodian's sat -- cutting up without a care in the world. Bingo -- he'd found them alright -- time to go to work.

Pushing off the bartop, Finn once again crossed the room, only now heading directly towards the corner. Nothing in his body signifying fear, doubt or lack of resolve. As he approached the three Rodians, one of them, clearly muttering profanities at him for interrupting them -- began to get up. His hands came up, as if trying to diffuse the situation, but it was a ruse, this man was not simple prey -- that much to any skilled warrior or force user would be known -- he was a predator, and the three had fallen prey to his trap. Moving quickly on the one closest to him, his gun unholstered and his strength formidable, overpowered the Rodian as his voice rang out over the music. "Last warning -- lay down your weapons and surrender peacefully. The bounty on your heads is worth more if I bring you in alive -- or rather... the Judge in me says I should bring you in alive, or at least try. Your move... I suggest you pick carefully."
Bad thing though about coming into a pub -- typically, alcohol and judgment never go hand in hand... and the Rodians, clearly weren't going to go easy. The two that weren't incapacitated promptly went to throwing bottles and jumping towards Finn. Swiftly and without thought, Finn struck the back neck of the Rodian he had subdued and threw it towards his friends, the loud crash heard in the pub as immediately, the entire bar would erupt into choas.

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Hearing the spurs, Minerva looked up to note the newcomer. She raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity at the Echani. The air about was calm yet his eyes were driven purpose. Even a blind Gamorran if there was one here would tell he means business. The unarmored Mandalorian kept her hands close to the hidden pistols.

Best not to take chances.

Maintaining her silent observation with the left eye she then took her new drink as the bartender briefly spoke with the arrival who came at the stand. Downing the glass she placed it on the stand before sighing. That was good. Minerva subsequently closed both eyes, ignoring the Echani. Her mind had returned to the issue.

Frowning with gritted teeth showing. The Protectors reclaimed Mandalore Space only to collapse, letting the Neo-Crusaders take over.

To think I almost joined the former. Guess my decision to stay and keep fighting with the GADF was the right call. But doesn't it make me feel any better.

Then she heard some noise and turned around to see that Echani had beaten down a Rodian and warned the other two. He sounded like a combination of a bounty hunter and law enforcement officer. Her hands were level and ready for trouble. Just as Finn struck again, the bar erupted into bedlam. There was a moment of hesitation in Minerva but quickly vanished as the urge to vent her frustration was now given an outlet.

Patrons started fighting or running or hiding. A yellow and heavyset Transdosen snarled at her from the right side and attempted to stab her with his dagger. Dodging it she went low unleashing four body shots with her fists into his guts. He staggered before trying to slash again but she ducked once more before firing a violent left kick into the kneecap.

The reptile roared in agony before grabbing his head with both of her hands and pulled it down to slam his face into a sudden right knee. Snout bloodied Minerva's would-be attacker moaned before collapsing sideways as she let go. But suddenly someone cried out and tackled her from behind by a brown Zabark. Grunting she rolled around with her both throwing fists as the melee consumed more and more of the joint. Chairs thrown, glasses shattered with punching and kicking going all around.

Tag: Finley

 

[Finley]

Weapons: Modified Blaster, Twin Trench Knives, Crush Gaunts
Location: Local Pub
Tags: Minerva Fhirdiad ​

The bar was absolute chaos as the once semi-relaxing atmosphere broke out into a no-holds brawl. Facing the two Rodian's, their friend in his hold, Finn smirked as he just laughed. "You know -- I've tried the nice guy way -- but feth, I guess somethings just never change..." With ease, Finn using the leverage of gravity, swept the Rodian's feet out from under him and slammed the detained man into the ground, his eyes coming straight onto the other two. Bounding forwards, both hands stretched around he grabbed both faces -- gripping with no mercy and ran them both backwards and into a wall with a loud and sickening thud. Dusting his shirt off he looked around as he pulled a deathstik out from his red jacket. Putting it up and between his lips, he began to take a draw as if almost by magic, the end smoldered, the draw being taken as smoke flared out from his nostrils.

Staring out towards the middle of the room, his eyes caught the efforts and skill of a woman, Minerva Fhirdiad who seemed to be skillfully handling her own. His cold emerald eyes watched as several, without succession attempted to overpower her -- something in her form, the way she fought... was, different... a grin curling up onto the edges of his lips.

Walking forward, and towards the woman with purpose, dodging, side-stepping, and almost dancing through the bar -- he grabbed a chair, and just as a Gamorreon began to come up from behind her, to try to grab her, Finn swung the chair, the wood breaking and splintering everywhere as the alien fell back and onto his back. Staring down, his right foot coming across the jaw of the Zabrak that was attempting to subdue her, he held his right hand out. "Care to join up for a moment --- call it... mutual interest? Feth, call it mutual fun at this point. I like your style woman... On your left." He spoke as he grabbed with his free left hand, a bottle, throwing it at another attacker who headed straight towards them.