Tracked Down

[Tathra Khaeus]

Enigma Prime, a scarred planet thriving on its vast resources on the very depths of the outter rim. However, the Matador was not here for its resources. Enigma Prime was home to the last remaining survivor of the Delvak Crime Syndicate, one of the men whom he had fought against on Dredd not a few days since.

He hadn't taken the Doctor with him, not here. This was unfinished business between himself and the Syndicate. He promised them that he'd wipe them out and that was what he was here to do.

There wasn't much in the way of civilisation on Enigma Prime, not in these regions at least. The volcanic activity on the planet coinciding with the gross amount of mining operations scattered around the world likely made many areas uninhabitable and those that were habitable were likely over industrialised to the point of being purely frustrating to try and sleep with the continous sounds of drilling overhead. Thus, small establishments were made where possible and the people got by however they could. In some ways, that was admirable to him. However, at the same he wondered why they didn't just leave. The philosophy of home was important, but the home was where you made it. People aren't defined by their birthplace.

But, in some places. Scum and villainy grew to prosperity much easier, and Enigma Prime just like Dredd; seemed like a place that revelled in such things. But he wasn't here for them, if he stopped to kill every criminal or pest in his way he'd be here for months. All he needed was one day, he knew were the last remaining Syndicate member was. All he needed was to get a lay of the ground, then he'd strike.

The Matador arrived in Cadilak Station, a small independent mining housing estate that was funded by a shell company owned by the Syndicate. There was a local hotel with an inhouse cantina, perhaps he'd find answers there.

[member="Katelyn Feanor"]

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"] (OC: Sorry if it's a bit wonky, haven't rped in awhile.)

The fires, the constant drilling, the explosions of volcanoes. It was a stark contrast to Hoth, instead of everything being ice and snow...it was all ash and volcanic rock. Enigma Prime was a hell-hole, just another planet ruined by the driving force of industry and the engines of war and greed. That's all it was now, a shell of it's self that was being wasted away, year by year...decade by decade.

Katelyn didn't know why, but she just enjoyed being on Enigma Prime despite how bleek things were. It reminded her of Hoth, only the sound of industry replaced the silence of Hoth. She wasn't particularly fond of the heat though, she would much rather prefer a cold planet to one that felt as hot as melted steel. Though, she could manage for the time being. After all, she had to if she wanted to kill the leader of the Crime Syndicate she had been trailing for a few months. Nothing was going to stop her, she would rather see the leader dead than see others get impacted by said leaders actions.

Katelyn knew this better than most, she had been a criminal for a few months of her life. After her father had died, she had no direction. She had resorted to killing and stealing, betraying others to survive. Whenever Kat thought of such times, it made her sick to her stomach. Though, at least she knew how to fix things...for the most part


Kat sat at the hard metal stool, her eyes fixated on a data-pad in hand. She had run over the plan thousands of times, though she just wanted to be sure she had everything right. If her information broker was right, then this crime boss...Killian Le'Stra was her target. Though things often got lost in translation, but she had to put her faith in something.

The crime boss apparently spent most of his time at a place called, The Cutthroat Palace. Apparently it was where the criminal spent most of his time, though their was nothing on what the place was or looked like. Now, that could be a problem. Kat put the data-pad away to her side before closing her eyes and trying to concentrate. What would she say when she saw him and put a gun to his head?

"Excuse miss, what would you like?" The bartender asked curiously.
"Uh, something cold."
The bartender then disappear to go fetch something, leaving Kat alone save for the other people in the room.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador had arrived, the air was thick with a stench of sickness mixed with the taste of copper. It was, in some strange way refreshing. It was a stark change from the nothing of space ships or the placade clean smell of the inner worlds. This was real, he could feel the worlds beating heart with every step he took. Around him, he saw people craddle themselves on the wet metal ground, surrounded by filth they considered precious. As he marched, he stopped. Looking down at an old trandoshan, holding a small doll. He looked solemn, as if remembering something he regretted but couldn't forget.

It wasn't his, he was an elderly figure. Perhaps, someone he knew. "Who did it belong to?" The Matador asked, his voice muffled throug the helmet but still quite clear. The trandoshan looked up, as if only now noticing that the Matador was even there. "What?" The elderly man's voice was weak, and sounded pained with every word. "The doll." The giant spoke, his voice was plain. They didn't know each other, there was no sense of melancholy in his voice, no reason to care. But, he was asking all the same. "My daughter." He whimpered out, his eyes falling by the wayside.

He was ashamed, perhaps he'd been kicked out on the streets. "If you're ashamed, then you know there's a reason you're where you are." The Matador spoke, almost seeing it plainly as if it were something obvious and maliable. In his mind, if you wanted something done; you just did it. There was no obsticale for him, he had nothing to lose here. The trandoshan looked back at his doll, with the same look. He had no sense of determination, only self pity. A useless thing and a trait of the weak, the Matador left him in his filth. To his mind, he deserved to be there. Without the will to act, you were nothing.

As he moved further down the platform, the area become less desolate and more crowded. Filled with people wearing patched up clothes and minor's uniforms. There were few women and ever fewer children. Perhaps they stayed out of the public eye; away from the streets writhe with scum. As he observed the crowd ahead, they bumped into each other. Each person racing past the other as if wherever they had to be was more important than the other. But, when the towering armour plated man stalked the edges of the crowd, they began to part ways for him. They had the same fear in their eyes as those before on Dredd, Duxn; anywhere he had been. But it bothered him none, strength was fearsome.

The streets were dour in many spots, and in others had blinding neon lights shooting out from various locations. With names like the Nal Hutta Mornin' Creep, Delilah's Lap or The Cutthroat Palace. The Matador regardless of these various things that may had attracted lesser beings, marched to the Hotel known as the Founders Rest. He had heard that Killian Le'Stra was there. But, the information he had recovered from his data-pad in his homestead on Dredd could have very well been planted. But they made the mistake of trying to trap him.

The Matador arrived at the Founders Rest, spotting a man in a full black suit standing in the reception area. He was a silver fox, with grey showing in the thin shades of his combed black hair. He looked fragile and warm, with a friendly face and posture. Likely a facade, the Matador doubted that a criminals hand wasn't in his pocket too. "Excuse me." The man spoke, as the Matador tried to walk by. "Are you here to stay or looking for someone?" The Matador stopped momentarily, "Killian Le'Stra." He spoke, the man didn't look surprised, nor look at his books. He already knew what he was being paid to say. "He's in the bar to your right sir." The Matador gave him a curt nod, and walked to the entrance; standing in the door way for a moment. His senses stretched out, hearing some snippets of conversation beyond the door.

​"Don't, just leave her."
​​"He isn't here yet. How's this for cold, schutta?"

This was followed by the audible sound of a man upholstering his pistol, ready to fire.

​"Gaaaasrrrrllll!"

​An inhuman howl of pain shot out of the man's mouth, combined with the sound of bone and muscle tearing as his arm was torn backwards to an impossible angle by some unknown force. The Matador entered the door way, eyes turning on the huge man.

​"Oh feth! It's him!"

​The small crowd in the bar came to life, reaching for the blasters and pistols or daggers or batons in their pockets or hidden under thick coats. The Matador ignited his saber, the bar's small lights being overthrown by a blazing angry orange light. The blade was ignited in his left hand, whilst his right had formed into a fist, crushing the arm of the women at the bar's attacker.

[member="Katelyn Feanor"]

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"] (OC: I assume it's Kat who is being attacked?)

Just as Kat was about to close her eyes, she felt something cold press against her temple. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was, even with her eyes closed Kat knew what it was. A cold barrel of a pistol pointed against her temple. She opened her eyes anyways, locking eyes with the man across the bar from her.

Before Kat could react, the howls of pain from the man across for her hit her ears. The man's arm was bent backwards at an awkward angle, probably broken and in need of repair. Luckily for Katelyn, he had dropped his pistol just as his arm and bent back. The pistol clattered to the ground, leaving him defenseless. Though, that was the least of things she has to worry about eight now.

All around Kat, people stood up with guns and knives pulled out. Though she could sense that they weren't aiming to kill her, but somebody else in the room. Good, at least she wouldn't have to deal with everyone else in the room. Which have her time to deal with the man across for her.

Kat stood up, pulling out a pistol from it's holster on her thigh. She normally would've used a lightsaber, though it was too suspicious and would draw too much attention to herself. Well, that...and she might have broken it somehow. It wasn't even her fault anyways, it had just fallen apart one day out of nowhere.

Kat vaulted over the bar, slinging her metal arm around the man's neck who has attacked her. She could probably have used him for information, which would've been a good idea. Though, she didn't take kindly to people who tried to kill her. Her arm tightened around the mans neck, before she pointed her pistol at the crowd...before shooting it off towards the ceiling.

A fight was going to break out anyways, she knew it would happen. Might as well let them know that she has a hostage, that would hopefully help her. At least, she prayed that it would. As Kat shot off the pistol, her eyes fell upon the large armored figure who rose like a tower of steel among the crowd. She didn't want to get on his bad side. Though she might've done that already.

"Anyone who attacks me or the...large person, will see this friend if yours get a bullet in the head!"

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador watched as the woman at the bar who previously had the barrel of a blaster directed at her head was now behind the bar, with a metallic arm tightly wond around the throat of her attacker. She wasn't just a civilian it seemed, and had her own weapon ready. The Matador analysed the room, taking note of a total of nine men in the bar excluding the one in the woman's clutches. Five of which had drawn blasters, the other four had drawn various small weapons. Next, a blaster shot hit the ceiling as the woman aligned himself with the 'large person' whom, he could only assume that was him.

He was, the biggest person in the bar. He towered over the majority of the thugs in the room, however the fear of their friend getting shot or perhaps themselves being injured delayed them none as they began to open fire on his position.

The Matador dashed forward, catching a group of shots with his saber; their red and green energies dissipating into the overpowering orange blade. Second, with a telekinetic thrust he flipped over one of the circular tables closest to his assailants firing at him and threw it at them, catching two shots in his waist. Next, the Matador moved to his left, keeping adjacent to the movement of the table as he cleaved through a twi'lek holding a baton and caught a second assailants forearm. The Matador kicked the second thug in the stomach, knocking him back and onto the ground as he quickly sliced his saber through the front of his face, narrowly dodging a blaster bolt headed for his face.

[member="Katelyn Feanor"]

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"]

Damn, it hadn't worked. Seems like Kat would have to go with plan B. Whatever that was.

She threw her attacker to the ground of the bar before firing off a shot towards the man's knee. Only, it wasn't a blaster shot. Kat didn't like using blasters they just never felt right and never felt like they would deal any damage. Which was why Kat always held a slugthrower on her at all times. She never had liked leaving without the weapon. Though she still used them occasionally.

The man's screams of pain were muffled by the fighting going on on the other side of the bar. People were fighting and dying, they deserved no less. They were criminals, but by the same line of thinking...Kat should be killed. Which was the reason Kat didn't like deciding who lived or who died. It wasn't her right to decide such things. Though she did have to defend herself.

Kat vaulted over the bar again before sending a slug into the trandoshian who had just shot at the large armored guy. The slug lodged it's self into the head of the lizard, instantly killing him. Kat aimed at a nearby human who had a gun pointed at the tall man. She fired off her gun, hitting the man in the side though not killing him.

Just as Kat was about to deal tell deathblow to the now wounded human, another one came up behind her. He put her in a headlock, trying to cut off her breathing. Katelyn rasped for breath, trying to fire off her gun only to find it had been taken from her grasp. She reached up both hands, trying to bring down the attackers arm from her neck though it was no use. So instead of trying to pull his arm away, Kat tried something else.

Kat used all of the strength that she could muster before flipping her second attacker onto the counter of the bar. Given the brief moment of relief and the shock from the attacker, Kat sent her metal fist into the face of the pirate before throwing him off of the counter and sending a punch of metal into the temple of the attacker. A hard one at that, a trickle of blood went down the attacks temple. He was out cold, possibly dead though she didn't know. Kat retrieved her gun finally, her back turned to the action momentarily.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Even though it was unexpected, the help was welcomed. The small woman had killed one opponent, and left two either unconscious or on the ground. They were easy prey. The Matador moved forward, rasing his saber in defense against his opponents who had moved from behind the table. Two, instead used it as cover. On the other end of the room, the fourth standing man was rushing at the woman who was now helping him. He turned his body to face the man standing to the side of the tipped over table, throwing his lightsaber at the table; it's orange blade shattered the table upon impact and cut down one of the two men behind it, the Matador leaped forward with the force to meet his saber upon its return; crashing down into the remains of the table and striking to his right to kill the luckier of the two.

Blaster bolts from the man adjacent to the table and his now dead friends caused the Matador to stumble, one even cutting through his unarmoured body glove and searing his skin, causing him to wince in pain. He growled nearly at his opponent, raising his free hand; outstretched and negating and redirecting the blasters bolts of the last man remaining in front of him in any direction. The Matador marched to his opponent and thrust forward with his dominant hand, cutting through the vital organs of his opponent as he redirected the last bolt at the man carrying the vibroblade.

The shot rebounded from his palm and hit the man in the shoulder, throwing him off for a moment to provide his ally with momentary safety. His ally had incapacitated one of their attackers temporarily, with a bullet in his side. The man seemed in shock, limping towards the bar and attempting to raise his rifle, he didn't notice the Matador standing over him until his saber had cut his upper torso in two, allowing his body to fall over on itself in a messy pile.

He looked upward then, refocusing on his newfound ally; observing as the vibroblade wielding man regained his composure, entirely ignoring the Matador in hopes that perhaps his companions could keep his busy long enough for him to kill the apparently easier target. But, his assumptions were both quite misguided.

[member="Katelyn Feanor"]

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"]

Katelyn could sense the man was coming up behind her. Something was telling her, probably the force, that their was somebody approaching her. She doubted the man would be a problem.

Kat turned swiftly towards the approaching man, though he was closer than she had thought. Much closer. Which was apparent by the feeling of metal slicing into her from her side upwards. She recoiled back in pain, wincing with a hand to her side.

Damn, Kat thought, he got me. That blasted idiot had actually snuck up on me. Note to self, next time use the force on him rather than turning like he's a friend.

The man approached Kat, who seemed unarmed with only her metal arm free for attack. Though, the man was definitely wrong. Katelyn outstretched her metal arm before a red blast erupted from the forearm of her metal arm. The blaster bolt struck the man squarely in the chest, killing him as it burned through his lungs and skin in an instant.

Kat fired off a few more shots from her arm, making sure the man was dead. Nobody hurt her and got away from paying the price. Well, two people did though that was for another time to think about. Kats eyes looked around the ruined bar, bodies littering the ground with blood everywhere. Everyone was dead. Wait, no they weren't. Someone was sneaking up behind the tall man with a vibroblade in hand. Kat couldn't let the armored man get killed, not after he had helped her. She contemplated using the force, though it was too risky with the creeping figure being so close. So she shot at him with the blaster built into her metal arm. The figure received a face-full of blaster fire to the face

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador saw it differently, she raised her arm at him; even if it was in the corner of his eye. He saw it, he didn't have time to react as his body was already mid motion, hunching over himself as he had just cut down another thug. The blaster bolts flew just past him, causing him to stand up fully, spinning on his heel to face his enemy with his saber rasied ready to counter attack, yet their last opponent lay sprawled out on the floor; his face was melted away, carbon plasma scoring had eroded his features into a steaming pile atop his body. But his clothing gave him away, it was just another thug. Likely the receptionist had sent more their way, perhaps not expecting the Matador to find an ally.

The receptionist had lied, Killian wasn't here. If he had been in the hotel at some point, he doubted that he'd be here now. Now, the Matador would have to search the building, perhaps find their security department and scan the holocamera's for Killian. But now, more fighting was coming. Even so, his mind shifted to [member="Katelyn Feanor"]. Her reflexes were trained, faster than that of an ordinary person. She was sensitive to the force, like him. Perhaps she did not know, or did not have it in strength beyond residual awareness enhancement. Outside the hallway, was clear. But, only for a short moment. He turned to her, lowering his lightsaber. But, keeping himself steady to be attacked from either of the two entrances to the bar. "The entrance to the building is clear, you may escape now." The Matador spoke, he had no need for fraternisation; no need for a companion. He already had those he would call upon if necessary and he had not. He began making his way towards the other entrance into the room, raising his saber slightly. A

As he was about to pass the women that he had fought alongside, he noticed her wound. His expression was hidden behind his mask, but even so he was as blank as steel. He only stopped for a moment, hoping to see her leave his presence. She looked frail and small, but perhaps that was a deception.

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"]

"I believe what you meant to say was 'Thank you.'" Katelyn spoke with a slight edge to her voice. "That guy behind the counter, he's mine. So if you want information from him, good luck getting it."

Katelyn turned away from the tall armored figure, her hand still to her side as blood dripped down from her tightened hand. Blood drizzled down her knuckles slowly, like a lazy river on a spring day. She would need to fix that, or at the least stop the bleeding soon. Though she also needed some information.

Katelyn went behind the counter of the bar, keeping the man who she had shot in the knee earlier up by the back of his shirt. Her metal hand clenched tightly to his shirt, forcing him to walk forwards. Kat needed to interrogate him for information, she just hoped that she wouldn't have to torture it out of him. And she hoped that the tall figure would stop looking at her, at least she assumed he was. It was impossible to tell what he was doing under that helmet.

Kat threw the injured man down onto a chair before leaning down close to him, her voice stern and void of emotion as she spoke.

"You will tell me where that karking idiot Killian Le'Stra is, or I'll blow out your other knee, got that? Hey look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Katelyn grabbed the wounded man's face with her metal hand, her grip tight yet not rough enough to cause any real damage. Believing that the armored man was still there, she spoke to him.

"I thought you said you had somewhere to be." Katelyn hoped that the man, if he was still here, didn't attach her for her attitude St the moment. And she also hoped that she wasn't talking to nobody, though that kept on happening.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Matador stopped, she had refered to Killian aswell. He turned on his heel, walking back towards [member="Katelyn Feanor"]. As he approached her, he was finally able to examine her, hunched over her prisoner with a metal fist clenching at his throat. She wasn't quite as vulnerable or small as he had previously thought. Her body was full and strong, and reminded him of the female warriors of the Tol Varen Clan. Tall and strong, for a human women.

There were shouts from the hallway, the sounds of more thugs mustering in the hallway. "I am also looking for Killian. I intend to kill him." He cut the chase, not leaving anything to misinterpretation. He looked back, analysing her grip on the man's face. The Matador put his saber onto his belt, looking down at the woman.

"He won't tell you anything, he's not afraid of you. Not enough." The Matador commented, extending his force senses. The man was sweating, thinking of his family, thinking of the friends we had killed. He centred on that, his family. This man had a family, the Matador somewhat understood that concept. "12AB." The Matador spoke, mocking the room number of his family's apartment. "I will kill them. Tell us where he is. And you can live."

 

[Katelyn Feanor]

[member="The Matador"]
Katelyn stood up from her previous position, her eyes locking onto the tall figure beside her from earlier. Seems he had decided to help her, turns out they both were looking for the same person. Which was good for Katelyn, though hopefully he wouldn't backstab her. For all she knew he could be trying to trick her, though he did just kill lots of Killian's thugs.

Katelyn watched him as he seemed to reach out for something invisible in the air. The tall figure then had mentioned a room number and someone's family. The person that they were interrogating, his family. So that's what he was gonna do, threaten the man with the deaths of his family? That was a low blow, even for Katelyn. She didn't tend to threaten those who she was trying to interrogate. Though their were occasionally exceptions, but she despised it nonetheless. Even if it was to get information, Katelyn preferred intimidation.

Though, it was working. The man seemed to crack under the pressure of his family getting killed off as tears welled in his small glassy eyes.
"H-hes at the Cutthroat Palace usually, though sometimes he's at the lava docks. It depends on the d-day....please I beg of you, DON'T hurt my family." The man pleased miserably with terror and fear in his voice.
"Ok we got it, let him go and let's get Killian." Katelyn spoke hurriedly, she had no interest in sticking around for a long time.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Matador relinquished his presence in the man's mind. ​"We should leave, now. Killian might already know that we're here." ​He made his way towards the exit from whence he had came. He didn't stop to inspect if she was following along, he was still going after Killian.

​For a moment, there was a terrible feeling of dread in his bones; as he felt his battle precognition kick in moments before an explosion. Before he even saw it, he heard the sound of the missile escaping it's capsule. Released into the air, headed in their direction. He only managed to catch a glimpse of what looked like a gunship outside of the main entrance before he was blinded by a white light. Then, he felt the kinetic force of the blast, shards of wood from the tables and glass battering at his exposed flesh, his second skin protecting most of his body. Luckily, the missile hadn't been large enough to collapse the entire building, or even the majority of it. However unlike his newly made ally he was close enough to feel the full force of the explosion.

​His body was sent backward like a ragdoll, landing in a heap on the ground. He grinded himself to a halt by rolling on impact into a crouch, attempting to raise himself. His legs failed him, as he fell onto all fours. The main entrance to the bar, where he was standing was burnt and smouldering, and the reception area was half falling in on itself. He had a clear view now, seeing the gunship fire it's second missile. Killian had underestimated him on Dredd, he wouldn't now.

​The Matador's adrenaline pushed him to his feet, thinking of many times before his teachers or fellow pupils had winded him, broken his ribs or dislocated something. You just had to work through the pain. He threw both of his hands forward; stopping the second missile in its track. He grunted, anger seething under his Beskar.

[member="Katelyn Feanor"]