Nux
Member
fixin' to cause some hurt.
Posts: 49
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Nux on Feb 10, 2016 16:40:55 GMT -8
Hole-in-the-Wall CantinaShe took another drink from the short glass of whiskey before her, let the liquid clean her palette and slide, warm and velvety, down her throat. She didn't look up at the sound of chairs being pushed back and weight being shifted (incidentally she pinpointed sound from four different locations, plus the man's voice behind her.) She shrugged out of her overcoat, letting it fall to the floor of the dive, and cracked her neck. You sure you want this? She stood ready, looking at ease -- hands hanging loosely at her sides, weaponry clearly on display along with her physique, which could (and often did) provide conflicting emotions in the opposite sex. It wasn't something she took for granted, but it was a nice bonus when it happened. She had come ready for a fight, and she hoped this man and his henchmen wouldn't disappoint. The man sitting in the booth behind her simply shrugged, his eyes darting to each of the five beings who had stood from their tables before sidling out from his booth, himself. If the woman's hearing was well-trained enough, she would likely also hear the dragging of the butt of a sheath across the leather of the seat as he stood.
"It really doesn't matter what I want, lady. I'd rather not have to contend with you at all. But, my superior's orders were clear -- anyone comes asking for that little purple-haired shavit, they've gotta be taken to him. So...can we do this peacefully? I'd prefer it that way."
Nux shrugged in reply and relaxed as the true colours were shown. Why didn't you just say so? If 'peacefully' is an option, then why the tough-guy act? pfft. another swig of whiskey Let's go, moof-milker.
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Feb 12, 2016 20:15:52 GMT -8
The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaWhen the woman seemed to relax, two of the men in the rear of the room seemed to relax. The few in front still had their blasters trained on the woman; and their leader - while his demeanor suggested he was relaxed, never loosened the grip on his blade's sheath. He wasn't the sort to take chances, even if some of his men were. Her little jab at him would have sent a lesser being over the edge, but the Echani before her was both reserved and professional. He only rolled the wooden stirrer in his mouth from one side to the other, still keeping his grip tight on his sword."I appreciate your sound judgment. My men can collect your coat for you...and I'll need to relieve you of your weapons. I trust that won't be an issue?"
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Jerrak Vao
The Organization
Posts: 81
Affiliation: Bounty Hunter's Guild
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Post by Jerrak Vao on Feb 14, 2016 13:48:50 GMT -8
Hole-in-the-Wall Cantina
The years hadn't been overly favorable to the blue-skinned Twi'lek that now sat in the corner of the dimly lit Cantina. He had lost his fleet of warships and his operations as one of the most reputable mercenaries in the Outer Rim. After that, he tried his hand at smuggling. While it had been successful for a time, fate had other plans. He had lost his ship and the remaining members of his crew were either dead or had fled to parts unknown. Either way, Jerrak didn't really care anymore. So many brutal losses had left him thick-skinned and rather emotionless when it came to the plight of others. Having earned a one way ticket out to the Skips, Jerrak now spent most of his time drinking at the local watering hole, trying in vain to drown his misery. While it worked sometimes, today wasn't on of those days. He sat at a corner table, reclining back in his chair, booted feet propped up on the table. A Sweet Williams Cigar stub hung from the corner of his mouth as he observed the occupants of the building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was merely minding his own business. That was when a seedy looking Rodian approached his table and sat down opposite Vao with out invitation.
Jerrak sized up the Rodian and shifted the cigar stub to the other side of his mouth.
"Can I help you, fellow sentient?" he asked gruffly.
The Rodian merely cast a glance around the Cantina, then returned his gaze to Vao.
"Archer wah ning chee kosthpa murishani tytung ye wanya yoskah."
Vao reached for his drink and took a swig. He swirled the contents around in his mouth, then swallowed.
"Can't say I've ever heard of this 'Archer' before. So there'd be no reason to put such a price on my head."
The Rodian snorted and continued speaking.
"Dopa maskey, gaggalak mursto!"
Vao stared the Rodian dead in the eyes.
"Now I may be many things, but a two-faced worm eating liar isn't one of them. I suggest you walk away from this table now, 'fore I decide your entrails would look good adorning the bar. Understand?"
Vao held the Rodian's gaze, unflinching. He certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with this Rodian that was trying to collect some bounty from a being named Archer. The Rodian simply stared back.
"Echuta! Da Syndicate's harl tish ding!"
As the Rodian made a move to stand up and draw his weapon, Vao was already one step ahead of him. He had his sidearm in hand under the table and pulled the trigger. It discharged at the Rodian, catching him square in the right leg. He howled and dropped to the floor. At this point, Vao rose to his feet and casually stepped over to the Rodian laying on the floor in pain.
"Looks like you won't be telling this Syndicate much of anything now. I told you to piss off. Now you pay the price for not listening."
Vao glared at the Rodian, and discharged his sidearm into his head. The corpse twitched but otherwise ceased its movements. Vao holstered his weapon and sat back down at the table. He scanned the cantina for a few seconds, noting that all the occupants had averted their attentions elsewhere. Vao leaned back in his chair, grabbed his drink and placed his feet back up on the table. He took a swig of his drink and continued to stare off into the distance.
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Feb 14, 2016 20:27:13 GMT -8
A few hours earlier - The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaThe years hadn't been overly favorable to the blue-skinned Twi'lek that now sat in the corner of the dimly lit Cantina. He had lost his fleet of warships and his operations as one of the most reputable mercenaries in the Outer Rim. After that, he tried his hand at smuggling. While it had been successful for a time, fate had other plans. He had lost his ship and the remaining members of his crew were either dead or had fled to parts unknown. Either way, Jerrak didn't really care anymore. So many brutal losses had left him thick-skinned and rather emotionless when it came to the plight of others. Having earned a one way ticket out to the Skips, Jerrak now spent most of his time drinking at the local watering hole, trying in vain to drown his misery. While it worked sometimes, today wasn't on of those days. He sat at a corner table, reclining back in his chair, booted feet propped up on the table. A Sweet Williams Cigar stub hung from the corner of his mouth as he observed the occupants of the building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was merely minding his own business. That was when a seedy looking Rodian approached his table and sat down opposite Vao with out invitation.Jerrak sized up the Rodian and shifted the cigar stub to the other side of his mouth."Can I help you, fellow sentient?" he asked gruffly.The Rodian merely cast a glance around the Cantina, then returned his gaze to Vao."Archer wah ning chee kosthpa murishani tytung ye wanya yoskah."Vao reached for his drink and took a swig. He swirled the contents around in his mouth, then swallowed."Can't say I've ever heard of this 'Archer' before. So there'd be no reason to put such a price on my head."The Rodian snorted and continued speaking."Dopa maskey, gaggalak mursto!"Vao stared the Rodian dead in the eyes."Now I may be many things, but a two-faced worm eating liar isn't one of them. I suggest you walk away from this table now, 'fore I decide your entrails would look good adorning the bar. Understand?"Vao held the Rodian's gaze, unflinching. He certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with this Rodian that was trying to collect some bounty from a being named Archer. The Rodian simply stared back. "Echuta! Da Syndicate's harl tish ding!"As the Rodian made a move to stand up and draw his weapon, Vao was already one step ahead of him. He had his sidearm in hand under the table and pulled the trigger. It discharged at the Rodian, catching him square in the right leg. He howled and dropped to the floor. At this point, Vao rose to his feet and casually stepped over to the Rodian laying on the floor in pain."Looks like you won't be telling this Syndicate much of anything now. I told you to piss off. Now you pay the price for not listening."Vao glared at the Rodian, and discharged his sidearm into his head. The corpse twitched but otherwise ceased its movements. Vao holstered his weapon and sat back down at the table. He scanned the cantina for a few seconds, noting that all the occupants had averted their attentions elsewhere. Vao leaned back in his chair, grabbed his drink and placed his feet back up on the table. He took a swig of his drink and continued to stare off into the distance. "Imagine my surprise..."The voice behind Jerrak echoed across the cantina, eerily-familiar to the Twi'lek."...When one of my people told me that the Jerrak Vao had decided to grace the Skips with his presence!"The voice crept closer, until the bootfalls that accompanied them seemed to sidle up beside the sentient.What he'd suddenly found standing there before him was none other than the "Kothlisian Killer" himself - Na'me He're. The Bothan had a grin across his features that was considerably-friendly, and even as he spun around and invited himself to the chair opposite of the monumental Twi'lek, the grin never disappeared."Good to see that the years have been as kind to you as they have to me, old friend."In truth, it was as much of a compliment as it was a jab at the guy. Na'me had definitely seen better years, but, this was one of the times where he was well-groomed, decently-dressed, and held the air of grace under pressure. His "edges" were a bit frayed, but, he managed all right. And with that wear-and-tear came the experiences survived to back him up. Na'me was a warrior and a survivor - and no one could take that from him. Take his youthful look and his spry, energetic figure -- he'd still find a way to beat back Death for another day.
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Jerrak Vao
The Organization
Posts: 81
Affiliation: Bounty Hunter's Guild
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Post by Jerrak Vao on Feb 14, 2016 21:18:08 GMT -8
Vao's still sharp vision scanned the bar as the voice spoke to him. He recognized the voice before he'd seen the sentient. Once the Bothan was in sight, Vao was surprised to see how well he still looked. He wasn't a prim and proper member of the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces anymore mind you, but he still seemed to carry himself well. As the Bothan spoke and seated himself, Vao waved the serving droid over for two more Coruscanti Scotch. As the droid carried out his order, Vao waited for the Bothan to be properly seated before he spoke. His face split into a wide grin, the cigar stub in the corner of his mouth threatening to fall.
Vao had been in the prime of his mercenary days when he had first met Na'me. Back then, the Bothan had been serving loyally in the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces under the respectable command of the Tyrian Triumvirate. Vao had been hired by the then Wings of the Triumvirate, Sith Lord Viox Savage. Vao, his men, and the Bothan had fought side by side during the Rising Sun incident. Vao had then met the Bothan again during the fall of the Triumvirate, when he had aided with smuggling out a Zabrak by the name of Venom Starkiller. And since then, everything seemed to have gone down hill.
"Na'me. Damn it's been too long. Last time I laid eyes on yer furry hide, we was helping rescue that Starkiller kid from Rhommamool. And believe me when I say this, I didn't come here by choice, though it has started to grow on me a bit. Especially since they have very well aged scotch..."
Vao trailed off, and accepted his drinks from the serving droid. He placed a cred chit on the droid as it scurried off. Vao slid the glass across the table to the Bothan.
"To the good ol' days."
He would then clink his glass up to the Bothan's, then proceed to take a swig from it. He swirled the contents around in his mouth, allowing the warm burn of a finely aged Scotch fill his mouth before swallowing it, feeling its warmth all the way down. Vao then plucked the cigar stub out from between his teeth and stowed it in a pocket on his vest. He leaned forward in his seat, looking the Bothan square in the eyes.
"I don't suppose you could spare some information for this old codger, could ya? This fine young sentient here..-"Vao jabs a thumb at the dead Rodian on the floor with a blaster bolt wound right between the eyes."-...let a name slip 'fore he went an got himself dead. He made mention of a 'Syndicate'. That mean anything to you lot?"
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Nux
Member
fixin' to cause some hurt.
Posts: 49
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Nux on Feb 15, 2016 10:35:45 GMT -8
The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaWhen the woman seemed to relax, two of the men in the rear of the room seemed to relax. The few in front still had their blasters trained on the woman; and their leader - while his demeanor suggested he was relaxed, never loosened the grip on his blade's sheath. He wasn't the sort to take chances, even if some of his men were. Her little jab at him would have sent a lesser being over the edge, but the Echani before her was both reserved and professional. He only rolled the wooden stirrer in his mouth from one side to the other, still keeping his grip tight on his sword."I appreciate your sound judgment. My men can collect your coat for you...and I'll need to relieve you of your weapons. I trust that won't be an issue?" Nux scowled, barring her teeth in a feral statement of intent. The tension that had disappeared a moment ago was back, and palpable. But it didn't last long, and after only a few seconds, the woman relented, withdrawing her Rykk blade and letting it clatter to the floor, followed shortly by the Echani sword, and her gun-belt. The Gadderfi was last to join the collection. In the arena, were another warrior to suggest I drop my weapons, or were a warlord to suggest the same, they would find themselves the victim of a most brutal disfigurement. However, I must concede, this is not Rattatak, and the circumstances differ. All the same, try something... test me, and not all of you walk out of this room. There is no malice in the woman's words, but a layer of stubborn, resigned confidence, as if she does not will it to be true, but merely knows it to be fact.It is plain to see, there is nowhere to hide additional weapons. Even so, she raises her arms, lacing fingers behind her mane of hair. You need to frisk me, Blondie?
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Feb 17, 2016 12:52:55 GMT -8
A few hours earlier - The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaVao's still sharp vision scanned the bar as the voice spoke to him. He recognized the voice before he'd seen the sentient. Once the Bothan was in sight, Vao was surprised to see how well he still looked. He wasn't a prim and proper member of the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces anymore mind you, but he still seemed to carry himself well. As the Bothan spoke and seated himself, Vao waved the serving droid over for two more Coruscanti Scotch. As the droid carried out his order, Vao waited for the Bothan to be properly seated before he spoke. His face split into a wide grin, the cigar stub in the corner of his mouth threatening to fall.Vao had been in the prime of his mercenary days when he had first met Na'me. Back then, the Bothan had been serving loyally in the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces under the respectable command of the Tyrian Triumvirate. Vao had been hired by the then Wings of the Triumvirate, Sith Lord Viox Savage. Vao, his men, and the Bothan had fought side by side during the Rising Sun incident. Vao had then met the Bothan again during the fall of the Triumvirate, when he had aided with smuggling out a Zabrak by the name of Venom Starkiller. And since then, everything seemed to have gone down hill."Na'me. Damn it's been too long. Last time I laid eyes on yer furry hide, we was helping rescue that Starkiller kid from Rhommamool. And believe me when I say this, I didn't come here by choice, though it has started to grow on me a bit. Especially since they have very well aged scotch..."Vao trailed off, and accepted his drinks from the serving droid. He placed a cred chit on the droid as it scurried off. Vao slid the glass across the table to the Bothan."To the good ol' days."He would then clink his glass up to the Bothan's, then proceed to take a swig from it. He swirled the contents around in his mouth, allowing the warm burn of a finely aged Scotch fill his mouth before swallowing it, feeling its warmth all the way down. Vao then plucked the cigar stub out from between his teeth and stowed it in a pocket on his vest. He leaned forward in his seat, looking the Bothan square in the eyes."I don't suppose you could spare some information for this old codger, could ya? This fine young sentient here..-"Vao jabs a thumb at the dead Rodian on the floor with a blaster bolt wound right between the eyes."-...let a name slip 'fore he went an got himself dead. He made mention of a 'Syndicate'. That mean anything to you lot?" Clinking their glasses together, the Bothan took a moment to remember - as Vao had put it - the "good ol' days".He recalled what they'd actually been - somewhat of a rollercoaster of events that never seemed to lack for a perpetual series of loop-da-loops - and how he'd played his part in it. The Bothan Commando, the "Kothlisian Killer"...his "legacy" was one of war and devastation. Being a part of the "Veritas" crew, it was his first chance to leave all of that behind. And here, yet again, another organization was forcing him to act on his training. They'd regret that decision. Just as soon as he'd taken a nice, long swig of the scotch and allowed it to mull in his mouth for a moment, he heard Jerrak mention the Syndicate.Looking down at the Rodian, not recognizing who he was in terms of the Syndicate's hierarchy, his brow furrowed. He looked up from the corpse at the barkeep, a grinning Devaronian, and - almost ignoring Jerrak's question, posed a question."Did you call this in?"The red-skinned xeno's grin faded, his look becoming a bit more frightened."Hey, I asked you a kriffin' question! Did. You. Call. It. In?"The Devaronian said nothing, but simply shook his head "no"."Good. Listen, I'll cut you a deal: I won't shoot you between your spiky little thumbtacks if you promise me that you'll wait til we're gone to make that kriffing call. Clear?!"A violent nod came from the Devaronian. Turning back toward Jerrak, Na'me spoke quietly."The 'Syndicate' are the ones responsible for pretty much everything on this karking rock now. All the crime and delinquency are their little trademarks on the Skips. They're also not above using murder and torture to get what they want. I've learned that first-hand. You remember how I'd joined a transport crew a couple years back, right?" Waiting for the salty Twi'lek to respond, he continued. "Well, the captain - goes by the name of Aedon - and I are the only two that survived the Syndicate's 'mercy'. They left us as examples for anyone who ever thought about crossing them. So, when I say they're bad news, I mean exactly that." Current time - The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaNux scowled, barring her teeth in a feral statement of intent. The tension that had disappeared a moment ago was back, and palpable. But it didn't last long, and after only a few seconds, the woman relented, withdrawing her Rykk blade and letting it clatter to the floor, followed shortly by the Echani sword, and her gun-belt. The Gadderfi was last to join the collection. In the arena, were another warrior to suggest I drop my weapons, or were a warlord to suggest the same, they would find themselves the victim of a most brutal disfigurement. However, I must concede, this is not Rattatak, and the circumstances differ. All the same, try something... test me, and not all of you walk out of this room. There is no malice in the woman's words, but a layer of stubborn, resigned confidence, as if she does not will it to be true, but merely knows it to be fact.It is plain to see, there is nowhere to hide additional weapons. Even so, she raises her arms, lacing fingers behind her mane of hair. You need to frisk me, Blondie? The Echani shook his head.Less toward her question and more toward her brief moment that she looked as though she was going to act impulsively. She had decided to let a few details slip about her in that moment, however, which allowed him to piece together the fact that she wasn't to be trifled with. An arena fighter in one of the deadliest, well-known fight cages in the Outer Rim? The two men in front would have been the first to have been sliced to ribbons. Luckily, she wasn't in the mood to kill. He was relieved to know that. Looking over and catching the eye of one of the thugs, the sword-wielder spoke."You...recover her weapons." Looking to the other front-runner of the group, he nodded. "Grab her coat, then sweep her with the wand." His eyes then fall back on the woman. "I have no desire to violate you in such a base manner. This will be sufficient."He then begins to circle around the tables and chairs, edging closer toward the doorway. Pointing toward the two men on the right, he motioned towards the door. Immediately, they moved towards the exit to cover it, weapons still drawn. There was still a soldier remaining with his pistol trained on the woman, about ten feet away on the other side of a table.The other two front-men began doing as they were told, retrieving her weapons and garments. As soon as the one Trandoshan picked up the coat, he reached behind him to retrieve his scanner wand. Depressing a switch, he activated it, and began sweeping over the woman; attempting to determine whether or not she actually did have any weapons on her.*
*The swordsman then stood resolute close to the doorway, his hand still gripping the sword hilt; thumbing the base of the blade's guard as though he suspected things may still go south.
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Nux
Member
fixin' to cause some hurt.
Posts: 49
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Nux on Feb 18, 2016 7:50:48 GMT -8
She walked carefully, as if taking time to make every movement deliberate. Her boots touched softly against the cantina's flooring, and though she kept her gaze locked with the swordsman, she missed nothing. Stepping through the door, she allowed the cold of the outdoor air on the Skip to envelope her, informing and sharpening her senses. He was behind her now, and she stood, two paces from the door, her back to the 'Hole In the Wall.' Her mane of wild, violently blonde hair moved with the wind, slave to its whims and direction.
Lead on, alor'ad.
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Post by Logann Renji Montrose on Feb 19, 2016 23:54:47 GMT -8
Crow's Nest - Hidden Bunker/Main ConcourseAedon and his Bothan compatriot were just finishing up taking stock of their inventory when the first shots rang out. The pair looked up from their stockpile, brows furrowed as the second volley seemed to be fired. Aedon's eyes widened even as he turned back to the terminal screen and depressed a few keys to bring up the camera view of the interior concourse. It looked as though Logann was standing in the middle of the concourse's main floor, and then, he watched as his brother dove out of the way, only to be caught by some kind of blast and flung clear across the way towards Terminal B.Immediately, the Bothan snarled and Aedon moved back towards the crates to remove two blaster pistols. Dashing back towards the exit, Aedon caught a glance of Na'me looking closer at the screen. He appeared to be squinting.Eyes shooting wide open "...That kriffing little Hutt-spawn!" Aedon tapped the metal barrel of the blasters on the rail of the ladder."Hey...we gotta move!"Tearing himself away from the screen, the Bothan looked to the center bunker support beam. Two crates were stacked up next to it, and standing vertically on it was what Na'me sought - a MerrSonn high-impact sniper rifle. Grabbing the beast, the Kothlisian darted towards the ladder, where Aedon was already making his way up.Meanwhile, outside, things appeared to be heating up. The Codru-Ji, Arden, appeared to have made contact with one of his targets. Just as it appeared that the "target" was rather...resilient, to say the least. The hulking mass appeared to turn sideways in time for his second volley to miss, tagging the Cathar in the process. It mattered little to him - the cat had served his purpose. There was a light whimper from him just before he stopped breathing. Then, surprisingly, the walking meat-log decided to pick up the rifle. Perfect, he thought, this kriff-tard's gonna waste me. Every shot missed, though. Every single one. And what's more, the humanoid Basilisk then decided to cock his arm back and throw the gun!Now that, the Codru-Ji could deal with. Focusing fire on the rifle, he pulled all four pistols to bear on it. Just as soon as the gorilla had loosed the weapon, one-two-three blaster bolts made contact with it, causing the rifle's vent-chamber - filled with Tibanna gas - to erupt into explosive flame and fragmentation.*
*If that weren't enough to give the lumbering hulk pause, Arden would continue backpedaling, dealing fire at his target all the while.The concussion launcher had worked as well as the Rodian could hope for. Even when he heard the satisfying "CRASH" that resounded when the blue-haired pale-skin made contact with the tables, the being was already cocking the weapon and loading another concussive shell in it again. He then hesitated, ducking down as he saw a piece of chair in the air, coming toward him--*
*--And then landing, several meters away in the spanse between them.*
*Had the pale-skin misjudged the distance? A certain amount of vertigo was to be expected from the concussive wake of the blast.The Rodian cocked his head a little to the side, staring curiously on even as the incoming shots seemed to spread a little wide. He was just about to level his launcher back toward his hip when suddenly...--ZOTT--A fresh, smoking hole appeared in the Rodian's skull, just below the center frill ridge, right between his eyes; the Bothan, on the level above the targeted Montrose brother, grinned as he pulled his eyes away from the scope. The Rodian's fleshy mass collapsed to one side, falling on top of the concussion launcher and triggering the weapon, causing it to release its payload directly into the overturned table in front of him, releasing a blast that made various table and body parts fly in several directions.It wasn't a moment later that Aedon dropped down beside his brother, a fierce look in his eyes. Clasping Logann on the shoulder, the Zeltron did his best to reassure him."You all right there, lil' bro?! Hey! You okay?!?"Aedon noticed the dazed look on his brother's face, coupled with the extent of his bumps and bruises from the launcher. He began glancing him over, trying to assess if there were any further injuries to his person. In the meanwhile, Na'me sat up top, sighting down the other assailant in the building... The Noghri outside that seemed to be scanning the perimeter, Ghet, caught the glint of the pistol just as the young girl revealed herself.The first two shots rang out, with which the bodyguard took two steps to his right, spinning the force-pike and catching the first two shots on the shaft. It then flashed the blade back the opposite direction, catching the third bolt right on the flat of the pike, leaving a searing, red-hot metal which smelled of burnt ozone and singed chromium. With a sadistic grin in the general direction of where the shots rang out, the Noghri spoke in broken Basic..."Is that all you do? Hide in shadow? Face mighty Ghet -- you no survive..."He then let loose a cackle, which sounded like a garbled cough.A sad attempt at Noghri humor, at best. *The steps and roar of the big man ceased as the cannon burst into flame hardly after it left his arm, causing him to stumble and regain his balance as the sleeve of his shirt burned away, searing the flesh beneath.* *Damn. Bugger had brawns as well as. Brick supposed he would have to in order to properly manage four hands. The pain was starting to build up now; that much flesh burned away was a little hard to ignore. But he had to press through it, lest the outcome be less-than-favorable...
And the chair barely made it anywhere. The kriff? Logann hadn't been out of the game that long! Still, he had precious little time to get more shots off before he was Rodian chow—* *The shot had made him jump, almost certain it was his own death knell, but it was the Rodian who had a sudden hole in his eyes. Logann frowned and glanced down at his own gun before he felt the clasp on his shoulder and almost jumped out of his skin.**It was Aedon.*" BRO!" *Logann exclaimed without thinking, throwing his arms around his brother's neck and sobbing with joy. In a mere instant, he had his composure regained and he dragged his forearm across his eyes to clean them.* "Sorry. Now what?" *Battlezone, had to focus, much as it was great to at last be reunited! It had been too long, but they were back in the game. And that four-armed piss-stain wasn't going to stop them...* *The sounds she heard from her blaster bolts were not the sound of laser melting flesh, as she'd hoped, but knew better than to expect. Noghri... truly living up to their legends. Noble too, from the sound of it; she'd expected them to rush her around the corner, fleet of foot, and overtake her. Then the two toothpicks. But if they were going to challenge her directly...*"Very well," *she declared, holstering her blaster pistol and stepping back out into the open, right hand firm on the hilt of her sheathed blade.* "Let's do battle." *The metal sang as it was drawn from its sheath, flashed in the artificial lighting with a flourish before it was brought to rest at her side, waiting for battle. There was no trace of fear on the woman's face, only duty.*
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Jerrak Vao
The Organization
Posts: 81
Affiliation: Bounty Hunter's Guild
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Post by Jerrak Vao on Feb 20, 2016 15:35:05 GMT -8
A few hours earlier - The "Hole-in-the-Wall" CantinaVao's still sharp vision scanned the bar as the voice spoke to him. He recognized the voice before he'd seen the sentient. Once the Bothan was in sight, Vao was surprised to see how well he still looked. He wasn't a prim and proper member of the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces anymore mind you, but he still seemed to carry himself well. As the Bothan spoke and seated himself, Vao waved the serving droid over for two more Coruscanti Scotch. As the droid carried out his order, Vao waited for the Bothan to be properly seated before he spoke. His face split into a wide grin, the cigar stub in the corner of his mouth threatening to fall.Vao had been in the prime of his mercenary days when he had first met Na'me. Back then, the Bothan had been serving loyally in the Rhommamoolian Armed Forces under the respectable command of the Tyrian Triumvirate. Vao had been hired by the then Wings of the Triumvirate, Sith Lord Viox Savage. Vao, his men, and the Bothan had fought side by side during the Rising Sun incident. Vao had then met the Bothan again during the fall of the Triumvirate, when he had aided with smuggling out a Zabrak by the name of Venom Starkiller. And since then, everything seemed to have gone down hill."Na'me. Damn it's been too long. Last time I laid eyes on yer furry hide, we was helping rescue that Starkiller kid from Rhommamool. And believe me when I say this, I didn't come here by choice, though it has started to grow on me a bit. Especially since they have very well aged scotch..."Vao trailed off, and accepted his drinks from the serving droid. He placed a cred chit on the droid as it scurried off. Vao slid the glass across the table to the Bothan."To the good ol' days."He would then clink his glass up to the Bothan's, then proceed to take a swig from it. He swirled the contents around in his mouth, allowing the warm burn of a finely aged Scotch fill his mouth before swallowing it, feeling its warmth all the way down. Vao then plucked the cigar stub out from between his teeth and stowed it in a pocket on his vest. He leaned forward in his seat, looking the Bothan square in the eyes."I don't suppose you could spare some information for this old codger, could ya? This fine young sentient here..-"Vao jabs a thumb at the dead Rodian on the floor with a blaster bolt wound right between the eyes."-...let a name slip 'fore he went an got himself dead. He made mention of a 'Syndicate'. That mean anything to you lot?" Clinking their glasses together, the Bothan took a moment to remember - as Vao had put it - the "good ol' days".He recalled what they'd actually been - somewhat of a rollercoaster of events that never seemed to lack for a perpetual series of loop-da-loops - and how he'd played his part in it. The Bothan Commando, the "Kothlisian Killer"...his "legacy" was one of war and devastation. Being a part of the "Veritas" crew, it was his first chance to leave all of that behind. And here, yet again, another organization was forcing him to act on his training. They'd regret that decision. Just as soon as he'd taken a nice, long swig of the scotch and allowed it to mull in his mouth for a moment, he heard Jerrak mention the Syndicate.Looking down at the Rodian, not recognizing who he was in terms of the Syndicate's hierarchy, his brow furrowed. He looked up from the corpse at the barkeep, a grinning Devaronian, and - almost ignoring Jerrak's question, posed a question."Did you call this in?"The red-skinned xeno's grin faded, his look becoming a bit more frightened."Hey, I asked you a kriffin' question! Did. You. Call. It. In?"The Devaronian said nothing, but simply shook his head "no"."Good. Listen, I'll cut you a deal: I won't shoot you between your spiky little thumbtacks if you promise me that you'll wait til we're gone to make that kriffing call. Clear?!"A violent nod came from the Devaronian. Turning back toward Jerrak, Na'me spoke quietly."The 'Syndicate' are the ones responsible for pretty much everything on this karking rock now. All the crime and delinquency are their little trademarks on the Skips. They're also not above using murder and torture to get what they want. I've learned that first-hand. You remember how I'd joined a transport crew a couple years back, right?" Waiting for the salty Twi'lek to respond, he continued. "Well, the captain - goes by the name of Aedon - and I are the only two that survived the Syndicate's 'mercy'. They left us as examples for anyone who ever thought about crossing them. So, when I say they're bad news, I mean exactly that."
Vao took another swig of his Scotch as he listened to the Bothan. This new development concerning the 'Syndicate' bothered him. More than it should have, considering what he'd been through in his day. Obviously he had seriously pissed someone off, in order for this 'Syndicate' to place a bounty on his head, as the dead Rodian had seemed to indicate. Vao slammed back the rest of his Scotch and placed the glass back on the table."So it would seem I have really stepped in it then, if this 'Syndicate' had placed such a price on me head. Does this Aedon of yers have a plan ta deal with this 'Syndicate'?Vao paused for a moment, leaving the Bothan to answer the question. But before he allowed Na'me to reply, he added to his previous question."If yer Cap'n has a plan, I am more than willing ta help out. In case ya'll have had enough of this 'Syndicate', I reckon you could use a few more blasters backing you lot up. I'm not normally on ta ask fer help, but I got nothin' and no one ta turn to."As Vao thought about it, he was starting to realize just how desperate his situation was. He was at a new all time low in his career and he had a monumental sum of credits on his head. And he had also just blew the face off of one of the Syndicate's henchmen. That wasn't likely to sit very well with the higher ups in their society. It was time Vao took action instead of sitting in a dark corner within the galaxy and hoping it all blew over. And it was very unlikely this was going to blow over now, due to the Syndicate operating on the Skips. Vao needed information and a ship, and this Aedon fellow could use another blaster at his side. A trusted and valued blaster, not just come common thug for hire. With he and the Bothan's history, and a recommendation from Na'me, Aedon was more likely to consider his help. Now he just had to wait and see what the Bothan decided to do next.
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Feb 27, 2016 21:48:08 GMT -8
The "Hole in the Wall" Cantina - A few hours earlier... Vao took another swig of his Scotch as he listened to the Bothan. This new development concerning the 'Syndicate' bothered him. More than it should have, considering what he'd been through in his day. Obviously he had seriously pissed someone off, in order for this 'Syndicate' to place a bounty on his head, as the dead Rodian had seemed to indicate. Vao slammed back the rest of his Scotch and placed the glass back on the table."So it would seem I have really stepped in it then, if this 'Syndicate' had placed such a price on me head. Does this Aedon of yers have a plan ta deal with this 'Syndicate'?Vao paused for a moment, leaving the Bothan to answer the question. But before he allowed Na'me to reply, he added to his previous question."If yer Cap'n has a plan, I am more than willing ta help out. In case ya'll have had enough of this 'Syndicate', I reckon you could use a few more blasters backing you lot up. I'm not normally on ta ask fer help, but I got nothin' and no one ta turn to."As Vao thought about it, he was starting to realize just how desperate his situation was. He was at a new all time low in his career and he had a monumental sum of credits on his head. And he had also just blew the face off of one of the Syndicate's henchmen. That wasn't likely to sit very well with the higher ups in their society. It was time Vao took action instead of sitting in a dark corner within the galaxy and hoping it all blew over. And it was very unlikely this was going to blow over now, due to the Syndicate operating on the Skips. Vao needed information and a ship, and this Aedon fellow could use another blaster at his side. A trusted and valued blaster, not just come common thug for hire. With he and the Bothan's history, and a recommendation from Na'me, Aedon was more likely to consider his help. Now he just had to wait and see what the Bothan decided to do next. At first, Na'me scoffed at Jerrak's suggestion that Aedon had a plan.
"You're referring to Aedon, right? Aedon Montrose?" He laughed a little. "Gav rarely has a plan that goes beyond 'Smack 'em in the face until they bleed'." The Bothan scratched the side of his snout. "I'm not saying the man doesn't have a knack for proper scheming, it's just that..." He pauses for a moment, sighing. "...when it comes to the Syndicate? The man sees nothing but red -- and for good reason! If I hadn't had the training I'd endured under the Bothan government and that of Lord Kalen, I'd be in the same volatile state that he's in."
The Bothan looked around, gauging the state of the cantina. The dead body was causing a bit more of a ruckus with each passing moment.
"So...if you're looking for a plan, it's simple. Just meet us at the hangar down near the end of this complex. I'll be able to explain things better there, when we're not so...popular." He grinned. "Just give me a few hours, though. I've got a bit more digging to do before I show back up there. Anyway, thanks for the drink, pal. Let's be sure to have another, later on."With that, the Bothan stood, his green jacket swaying back as he adjusted his collar. The Twi'lek might have noticed that his trademark pistols were missing from the holsters, replaced with a pair of unassuming DC-15 blasters. Without much more of a farewell, Na'me gave Vao a two-finger wave as he walked quickly out of the bar. The Crow's Nest - Main Concourse...Present TimeThe Bothan sighted in on the gunslinger, who was still busy with the rather-large male who appeared to be with Logann. He noticed that the four-armed freak didn't even catch on that his Rodian friend had suddenly fallen over and couldn't get up -- well, that was his mistake. Leading with his rifle's sights, the Bothan squeezed off another shot. The rifle's bark resounded across the concourse floor, and - to his surprise - the shot fell short of the mark; which happened to be the Codru-Ji's head.
"Ah, kriff! One more!"Instead, the shot pegged the multi-limbed being directly in his left upper shoulder. Arden felt the searing pain from the bolt as his hands loosed the top two weapons, flinging them wide of his own body. His lower right hand rose up to clasp his shoulder, loosing yet one more of the blasters, the Westar. And when his hand covered the wound, the being quickly tried adjusting his lower left hand to compensate, taking aim toward the trio on the far side of the concourse, he fired off several shots before he turned and began running the other way, toward the two connecting hallways that led to the hangar.He hadn't made it more than ten feet before the second shot from Na'me's rifle rang out, pegging him directly in the right leg and dropping him to the ground, squirming and trying to find his bearings. The Bothan was then quickly over the rail keeping the rifle shouldered while he attempted to close the distance.Aedon - after being hugged by his brother - gave him a firm pat on the shoulder again before giving him a smile and nodding."It's good to see you again, bro. Truly." His face became more-sullen, though, as he heard the Bothan's feet plant behind him, running outward. "'What now,' you ask? Let's go and see, shall we?"He quickly stood up, hopping over the overturned table and breaking out in a jog to follow Na'me. His own pistol was drawn still, primed and ready to lay out the now-immobilized Codru-Ji, who lay on his back shouting expletives and cursing the "Veritas" crew's existence. Outside, the Noghri "Ghet" watched as the young woman stepped out of the shadows. His grin faded, although he still maintained his prideful pose. There seemed to be a tension in the air that was overwhelming. The grey-skinned warrior's muscles rippled with every step, relaxing and then tensing again. He was readying himself. The other Noghri only looked on, watching his brother and making sure no other surprises lurked in the dark. "Ghet", however, had set the butt of his Force pike on the ground, hitting with a hard, metallic "tap" noise as he spoke to the girl."You too young, small one. You okay with saying Last Rites now? Whole life in front of you?" He shook his head. "This not sit well with Ghet. Ghet no want Brave Spirit to say he weak when he kill you."It may have sounded crass or bull-headed of the Noghri, yet the twin was actually being brutally-honest. It was a matter of honor to him, knowing that if he killed a child - whether or not that child took up arms against him - he could very well be kept from joining his brethren in the afterlife. The "Hole in the Wall" Cantina - Present TimeThe two guards who were at the door began to lead the group, and the swordsman ushered the woman to fall in line with them as he would be walking behind her. As she would continue on, he would follow, along with the other three men, one of which still kept his blaster trained on her as he followed a little behind and off to the side of their leader. They would then proceed down the main street, heading to meet their secretive boss who ran the Syndicate from the best and busiest casino on the Skips -- The "Aurodium Palace".Continued Here
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Post by Logann Renji Montrose on Mar 27, 2016 13:20:20 GMT -8
*The shot from afar very well could have saved Brick's life; with at least one bullet wound and most likely third-degree burns along his right arm, he wasn't exactly in tiptop shape anymore. It had been certainly more of a first encounter than he'd expected, but nothing he couldn't handle. With a bit of medical aid, preferably.* *When the Codru-Ji fled, Brick briefly contemplated giving chase, but his injuries reminded him that that would be a foolish idea.
He turned toward Logann instead, along with the purple-haired man now with him. Brick approached, offering Logann a hand up.*
"This your bro, boss?"
"Damn right!" *Logann replied, taking the hand and pulling himself to his feet.* "The legendary Aedon Gavin MontrACK!" *He hopped down on one foot briefly, looking down at his other, injured foot.*
"Montrose, I thought it was," *Brick quipped.*
"Very funny..." *Damn foot... if it wasn't broken, it was at least injured. Kriff it, he had worse.* "Whatever, after that four-armed freak!" *As though he didn't know what pain was, Logann took off after Aedon and Na'me, Brick bringing up the rear, clearly paying attention to his boss should he falter.*
*Now they were back in business...*
*What was this? The Noghri was refusing to fight? He certainly hadn't seemed pleased at the sight of Treya for some reason, and she was fairly certain it wasn't for sexist reasons.* *When it turned out to be her age that was holding him back, her eyebrows raised. Right, their honor system. Could Treya perhaps exploit that? If he was so eager not to fight, then perhaps Treya could appeal to him. She slowly sheathed her own blade, then held her hands out to the sides, palms open and facing outward.*
"You're an honoroable race. So why throw your lot in with crooks?"
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Apr 9, 2016 2:58:57 GMT -8
*The shot from afar very well could have saved Brick's life; with at least one bullet wound and most likely third-degree burns along his right arm, he wasn't exactly in tiptop shape anymore. It had been certainly more of a first encounter than he'd expected, but nothing he couldn't handle. With a bit of medical aid, preferably.* *When the Codru-Ji fled, Brick briefly contemplated giving chase, but his injuries reminded him that that would be a foolish idea.
He turned toward Logann instead, along with the purple-haired man now with him. Brick approached, offering Logann a hand up.*"This your bro, boss?""Damn right!" *Logann replied, taking the hand and pulling himself to his feet.* "The legendary Aedon Gavin Montr ACK!" *He hopped down on one foot briefly, looking down at his other, injured foot.*"Montrose, I thought it was," *Brick quipped.*"Very funny..." *Damn foot... if it wasn't broken, it was at least injured. Kriff it, he had worse.* "Whatever, after that four-armed freak!" *As though he didn't know what pain was, Logann took off after Aedon and Na'me, Brick bringing up the rear, clearly paying attention to his boss should he falter.**Now they were back in business...* *What was this? The Noghri was refusing to fight? He certainly hadn't seemed pleased at the sight of Treya for some reason, and she was fairly certain it wasn't for sexist reasons.* *When it turned out to be her age that was holding him back, her eyebrows raised. Right, their honor system. Could Treya perhaps exploit that? If he was so eager not to fight, then perhaps Treya could appeal to him. She slowly sheathed her own blade, then held her hands out to the sides, palms open and facing outward.*"You're an honoroable race. So why throw your lot in with crooks?" At hearing his brother introducing him to the monstrously-large male, followed by the sudden exclamation in his tone of voice, the violet-haired Zeltron halted in his footsteps. Turning back to face his brother, he lent a shout."You all right, Ren?!" He jogged back a few steps. "Kriff, I should've gotten here sooner!"It was all Aedon could do to keep from attempting to grab his brother up and carry him. As bitter and spiteful as he had become towards the galaxy, he now felt the sudden weight of his actions a dozen times over when it came to his family and his crew. Every decision he would make from now on would be marred in the blood of his fallen comrades. Whatever sort of fallout that would come, he'd bear the brunt of it, considering each shortcoming to be somehow of his own design. Seeing his brother before him, limping, was just another reminder that he'd not been careful enough to keep Logann safe. To keep them all safe. And whenever the Day of Reckoning came for that kriffing Nautolan who ran this little street-gang, it would be one more searing, painful, gaping wound that he would tack on in addition to the ever-growing list of things that Aedon would do to him. Kriff, if the little squid-head didn't at least survive the first volley of what Aedon wanted to put him through, the Zeltron captain would be disappointed.*
*On the other side of things, the Bothan had gotten much closer to the flopping, smoking mess that was the Codru-ji gunslinger. Na'me's own senses were nearly overwhelmed by the scent of burnt flesh mixed with - what he could only assume was - bodily fluids that the xeno must've lost control of when he'd been hit with the second blast.His sniper rifle raised, he watched along the side-sights as the Codru-ji spat and cursed while attempting to garner the strength to raise the other two blasters up toward the Bothan. With a small little hop-step, Na'me cleared his legs in time to kick the heavy blaster away, stepping on the other wrist and evoking a faint "yelp" from his captive. Dropping to one knee - which he planted on the Codru-ji's chest - the Kothlisian pressed the barrel tip of the rather-long sniper rifle to the being's cheek, nearly spitting out the words as he spoke them."Not that you deserve it...but fair warning -- one kriffing move, and I'll end your miserable existence. Savvy?" The Noghri, "Ghet", seemed assured that he was the better warrior, despite the two of them being nearly the same height. He felt as though he had nothing to fear from her, and yet, all of his life was spent in training to hone against underestimating his opponent. Therefore, his grip tightened on the Force pike in his hands as he waggled its base on the ground, canting his head one way, then the other looking the small female over. She had posed him a question - which he ultimately understood, despite his base comprehension of Basic - and he would have cared to answer it, had he the opportunity. Instead, his identical twin, "Tal", stepped forward. His own Force pike was retracted and still hanging from its sheath on his back. But the punch dagger gauntlet - with its two protruding, jagged points - was enough of an indication that he wasn't to be trifled with.In the same guttural tone - but with quite a bit more articulation - the twin spoke."When the Dark Ones come and steal you in the night as you are young, breed you to become loyal, subjugant; not through respect, but through fear...it is...difficult to say 'no.'"Ghet looked at his brother quizzically. He apparently did not share such an opinion."You tell Ghet that Dark Ones make us strong -- why you lie about them now?"Looking to his brother. "I told you what you needed to hear, ghisa (brother). The Dark Ones felt no need to break us both, so long as they kept one of us in line."It took him a moment of silent reflection, but the Noghri twin soon looked to his brother with a much more stern glare. "...What did they do to Tal?""It matters not, now."Grabbing his brother's arm. "What...did they do...?"The other shrugged his twin's hand away from his arm, the dark wells of his eyes glazing over. "...As I said, it matters not. Our duty remains the same. He will not look kindly upon us letting our prey withdraw, ghisa." With that said, the Noghri wrapped his large, clawed hand around behind him, retrieving his Force pike. With the depression of a switch, the metallic song of the blade extending from the shaft sung out. He twirled the staff before him with a brilliant flourish as he settled into his battle stance. "We must do as our Vigo requires."Ghet places a firm hand on his brother's forearm, guiding him to lower the blade.Shaking his head "Not when Vigo think he bring us to heel. Not when he hurt ghisa. Nhet gel ret toradan tel shan, Tal. (Never shall our family's blood be spilt). Father teach us that, remember?""...Our Honored Father is dead, ghisa. Blessed Mother, too. Your eyes have not seen, Ghet. They do not know the horrors I know. This being...our Vigo...he cannot be bested."With a slap to his brother's shoulder, the other twin turned Tal towards him. With his finger pointed in his brother's face, he growled."The Dark One came like thief in night -- he have no honor. Not brave enough to face Honored Father's true sons. Not brave enough to fight mighty Ghet!"The affront caused to Tal was short lived. He met his brother's shove by stepping forward into his pointing finger. However, after hearing his brother's words, he sighed and began to relent."How can we stand against him? We are two Noghri, against him?--"His finger suddenly pointed to Treya "They stand! They fight! Why us any dif'rent?" He looked to the young girl now, his toothy maw showing fiercely as he spoke "Tell him, young one! You fight Vigo, yes?!"
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Post by Logann Renji Montrose on Apr 9, 2016 21:21:41 GMT -8
"I'm alright!" *Logann protested, shaking his head at his brother's curses.* "I've had worse! We got us a thug to catch though!" *Logann had been in some bad scrapes before, and this was hardly the tip of the iceberg. If anything, it had gone quite well, all things considered. Granted, had Aedon and Na'me not entered the scene when they had, he was sure he could have ended up worse... much worse. But Logann never cared about potentialities; what mattered was what had already happened, and he had to roll with it and adapt.
That had been his first life lesson.
Na'me had the Codru-Ji subdued. Threatened to pull the trigger in a grand reversal of the earlier standoff.* *Logann smirked as he slowed his approach to the scene, walking around in front of the Codru-Ji and crouching down, looking him in the eye.* "Well, looky here! Four-arms in a tough spot!" *He glanced up at Na'me, then added,* "My Bothan boy looks a little eager here. If you play nice, he might even kill you quickly..." *He slowly grinned as Brick guffawed in the background.* *Turned tables, Logann's favorite scenario. It felt good to gloat, but mostly, it just felt good to stop walking on his injured foot for a moment...*
*The other had chosen to answer the question, in far more fluent Basic than the one called "Ghet." Treya took note of his speech, the depths of his eyes betraying even more than he spoke. They had sold themselves to the "Vigo"... or one of them did, at an unspoken great cost. Treya now felt even more hesitant to engage them should she miraculously be victorious; they didn't deserve the life they led. At the very least, not Ghet, who seemed to be in the dark on the more unsavory details of their deal.
But this second Noghri, "Tal" she believed, also seemed less honorable, seemingly disregarding the traditions Ghet believed in and fully content with threatening to engage Treya.* *Metal sang as the sword bared its natural form once more, Treya preparing to defend herself from an attack that never came. Her blade lowered, but remained unsheathed, as she watched Ghet hold his brother back, asking what made them different. He wanted to know what made them different from Treya and the others who had come to stand against the Vigo...
And that was when Treya had her idea. She glanced to the side, where Cal and Truman huddled against the wall, listening but not daring to show themselves. They caught her eye as she nodded them over. They shook their heads. She gave them a glare. They complied, Truman tucking the datapad under his arm.*
"Of course," *Treya answered at last, looking back toward the Noghri even as the pair stood behind her to either side, Truman grinning nervously and shivering uncontrollably.* "We're not alone, but your Vigo has committed atrocities to this once-bright center of commerce, as well as its people. We can't sit and let that continue. And if scrawny punks like these two are fearless enough to take on your Vigo—"
"Hey!"
"What? He's the scrawny one!"
"'Scuse me?!"
*Treya ignored them, continuing,* "—then surely two seasoned and skilled warriors such as yourselves stand an even better chance. Stand against them. Take back what they took from you. Administer justice." *There. The proposition was there. They could pick their answer, and Treya—partly for her sake, mostly for the sake of the two sniveling males behind her—hoped they would accept.*
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Aedon Gavin Montrose
The Organization
Enjoying a well-aged bottle of scotch...
Posts: 356
Affiliation: "Veritas" Crew
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Aedon Gavin Montrose on Apr 26, 2016 3:09:45 GMT -8
"I'm alright!" *Logann protested, shaking his head at his brother's curses.* "I've had worse! We got us a thug to catch though!" *Logann had been in some bad scrapes before, and this was hardly the tip of the iceberg. If anything, it had gone quite well, all things considered. Granted, had Aedon and Na'me not entered the scene when they had, he was sure he could have ended up worse... much worse. But Logann never cared about potentialities; what mattered was what had already happened, and he had to roll with it and adapt.
That had been his first life lesson.
Na'me had the Codru-Ji subdued. Threatened to pull the trigger in a grand reversal of the earlier standoff.* *Logann smirked as he slowed his approach to the scene, walking around in front of the Codru-Ji and crouching down, looking him in the eye.* "Well, looky here! Four-arms in a tough spot!" *He glanced up at Na'me, then added,* "My Bothan boy looks a little eager here. If you play nice, he might even kill you quickly..." *He slowly grinned as Brick guffawed in the background.* *Turned tables, Logann's favorite scenario. It felt good to gloat, but mostly, it just felt good to stop walking on his injured foot for a moment...* *The other had chosen to answer the question, in far more fluent Basic than the one called "Ghet." Treya took note of his speech, the depths of his eyes betraying even more than he spoke. They had sold themselves to the "Vigo"... or one of them did, at an unspoken great cost. Treya now felt even more hesitant to engage them should she miraculously be victorious; they didn't deserve the life they led. At the very least, not Ghet, who seemed to be in the dark on the more unsavory details of their deal.
But this second Noghri, "Tal" she believed, also seemed less honorable, seemingly disregarding the traditions Ghet believed in and fully content with threatening to engage Treya.* *Metal sang as the sword bared its natural form once more, Treya preparing to defend herself from an attack that never came. Her blade lowered, but remained unsheathed, as she watched Ghet hold his brother back, asking what made them different. He wanted to know what made them different from Treya and the others who had come to stand against the Vigo...
And that was when Treya had her idea. She glanced to the side, where Cal and Truman huddled against the wall, listening but not daring to show themselves. They caught her eye as she nodded them over. They shook their heads. She gave them a glare. They complied, Truman tucking the datapad under his arm.*"Of course," *Treya answered at last, looking back toward the Noghri even as the pair stood behind her to either side, Truman grinning nervously and shivering uncontrollably.* "We're not alone, but your Vigo has committed atrocities to this once-bright center of commerce, as well as its people. We can't sit and let that continue. And if scrawny punks like these two are fearless enough to take on your Vigo—""Hey!""What? He's the scrawny one!""'Scuse me?!"*Treya ignored them, continuing,* "—then surely two seasoned and skilled warriors such as yourselves stand an even better chance. Stand against them. Take back what they took from you. Administer justice." *There. The proposition was there. They could pick their answer, and Treya—partly for her sake, mostly for the sake of the two sniveling males behind her—hoped they would accept.* In the midst of this entire scene, the violet-haired Zeltron must have seemed like such an inconsequential part. Even as the Bothan knelt over the Codru-Ji's chest, the rifle securely-pressed against his cheekbone, and a larger, shirtless Zeltron male leaned over his shoulder - what was a little runt like Aedon going to do? Not to mention, the massive blonde-headed male that stood behind the lot of them, casting a shadow that must've seemed like Death creeping over the Syndicate thug. He was an imposing sight, as well. But what of Aedon? How was he going to make his presence known amongst such ominous-looking beings?*
*Silent, like the grave, of course.It was a few moments after Logann had made his comment. The din of his echo had died out across the complex. The smallest sounds were now becoming evident.*
*Including the shuffling step of Aedon's feet.*
*His heels, clacking against the metal floor. Their resonance so loud that it was almost in rhythm with the cold, steady heartbeat in Aedon's chest. And the sound was drawing closer, closer to Arden the Gunslinger. They eased from one edge of his hearing to the other, almost surrounding him. His head, already pounding. His heart, racing. He knew he was bleeding out, but he still couldn't stop this reaction. The Codru-ji's eyes darted from one of his captors to the next, the visor that was over his eyes now some several feet from him.*
*But the footsteps were there. He heard them, loud and clear.*
*And as the Zeltron captain rounded the shirtless one's body, his long, violet locks hanging loosely over his eyes, he suddenly felt all the blood drain from his face. Because the gaze that fell on him was one of pure, unadulterated wrath. The amethyst pools were so vibrant and full of bloodlust, the pupils drawn so tight that they were like beads of black amongst violet seas. And the way his lips were pressed so tightly together, his expression completely devoid of warmth or mirth, the Codru-ji knew -- he was staring into the void of hell itself.Two steps more, and the stone-silent visage of the captain was soon standing directly over his head. The violet locks hung down like chains, seeking to enrapture his very soul. And that look still remained. It pierced him, wholly. Arden saw the gun in the Zeltron's hand, the white-knuckle grip administered to it. Even that wasn't as threatening as those eyes. And in that one quiet moment, when no one else was speaking, or hardly breathing, the Zeltron's whispered words met their intended mark."It's because of you, y'know?" He never raised his tone, not even a little. His spoken words like hammer upon anvil to Arden's ears. "You were the first one through that door, after you sent in the meat shields. Don't think that I've forgotten."That horrid day was replaying over and over again inside his mind. Their crew, cut down by four at that point, had just cleared out the first two waves of Syndicate thugs. Aedon was busy looking over the pile of corpses that littered the foyer, and some of them strewn about the concourse, when he saw the Codru-ji bastard file through the door, his blasters bearing down on whatever target was in his way. The first shot pegged Aedon directly in the shoulder, sending him reeling to the floor. The searing pain was etched into his memory then, as he crawled his way back behind the overturned cover. It wasn't but two or three volleys later that he saw Salora take the bolt to her chest that ended her life. Aedon watched, helplessly, as the light faded from her eyes. In a rage, he screamed, and rolled out from behind his cover to take down three of the thugs with his Death-Hammers. His vision blurred thereafter, and he almost took another bolt to the back before he saw Tom Helix spinning into the fray. Everything flew by in an instant after that, and Aedon knew -- he wasn't going to win this time. And this was one that he desperately needed the win for. But, it wasn't meant to be."It just...wasn't. We couldn't stop you that day. You had us at a...great disadvantage. Seven to one, if I recall. Of course, I lost count."It was then that he knelt down next to the man. His heated breath drawing near to Arden's face, like the breath of Hades itself."I've always wanted to ask you...at least one of you -- why? Why did we have to...why was it necessary for us to suffer?"His eyes peered mercilessly into Arden's own, darting back and forth across his features. He felt it, heard the Zeltron's breathing beging to increase exponentially. Even in his stunned state, the Codru-ji knew what was going to happen next."WHY DID WE HAVE TO SUFFER?!?"The Codru-ji was speechless."What?! You can't tell me?! YOU'D BETTER KRIFFING COME UP WITH SOMETHING!!!"The utter rage in Aedon's voice was evident. Even Na'me knew not to intervene when he got like this."GYAAAAH!"Aedon reared back, taking the butt of his pistol grip and slamming it across the Codru-ji's forehead. A spray of red-hot blood flew up, coating Aedon's jacket sleeve and pant leg on his follow through. A few droplets splashed across his cheek and into his hair, as well.It was then that Aedon saw the Codru-ji's eyes start to roll up into the back of his head. The little Hutt-spawn was trying to up and die on him?! That simply wouldn't do."Oh...oh no. No, no, no, no...you're not allowed to kriffin' die! Not until you've ANSWERED ME!"He barely looked back, spotting the Codru-ji's limp hand beside him. With a flash of his blaster barrel, Aedon shot off three of Arden's fingers in a single burst. The gunslinger immediately rose up out of his near comatose, with a fresh set of screams to show for it. Still, Aedon's own voice drowned his out."THAT'S RIGHT! You STAY here, in THIS hell, for as long as I karking desire! You don't get to die -- you only get to piss yourself into oblivion until I release you!" He waved the blaster barrel in the Codru-ji's face menacingly. "THEN you'll get yours!"He stood up quickly, walking rapidly over to the nearest place that held any furniture. He kicked a table out of the way, grabbing a broken chair and flinging it aside before finding an unbroken one. Dragging it unceremoniously across the floor, he finally reached the place where the rest of the group still waited - likely, all staring at him in horror and wondering what he was going to do next. Picking the chair up and slamming it down on all fours, he looked to the three of them who were over the Codru-ji's body."Sit him up, c'mon!"As he waited for them to comply, he was already reaching into his side pocket for some of the ratchet-ties he'd brought with him. Outside, the two Noghri were looking at a scene that they couldn't quite make sense of. Two more slender humans slinked in out of the darkness, standing before them now.And then, the young female made bold statements, telling them to "administer justice"...the Noghri never understood the concept of "justice" though. They knew of honor, and vengeance. They knew of battle, and clan. But "justice"? It was as foreign to them as the garb that these humans were wearing."...This all they got?""It can't be--""--We screwed, ghisa."The well-spoken twin looked to his brother."What of their captain?"Ghet looked behind them, to the door. Shaking his head, he turned back to Tal."...No way, ghisa. Arden go in there. When Arden go in, no one make it out. That man dead by now."The two of them seemed content to converse among themselves, but, it seemed like - as for the moment - they were still unconvinced.
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Non-Com Or'dinii
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Affiliation: Mandalorian Clan Or'dinii
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Post by Non-Com Or'dinii on May 2, 2016 11:35:53 GMT -8
A unimpressive man, of olive skin, brown eyes, and black hair, sat a table, set up in an alcove just off the main hangar, where he spent the hours playing sabacc, as he usually did when he wasn't busy working. He'd play anyone who wanted to play with him, but never betting more than handful of creds. Being a "professional" dock hand didn't leave a much money for gambling, and Rajani wasn't a fool willing to gamble his soul away for leisure. Most of the serious gamblers ignored him, but he was a bit of a curiosity, so many people, locals and strangers would periodically stop and play a few hands with him before loosing interest and wandering away. Several of them new he liked to gossip, and often traded stories with him as they played. A few did more than that, accidentally betting a data-chip instead of a credit chip, and on other occasions, he'd do the same, and so he was able to pass information to his employers and earn a sizable retirement fund, all deposited in secure account that wasn't technically tied to him in any way shape or form. But he'd worked with his employer before, and had no worries that he was being cheated. Plus he enjoyed his job, the manual labor was therapeutic in his high stress environment, and the mental challenge of maintaining the balance necessary for his cover, made it for a very rewarding, if occasionally strenuous, regimen for the middle aged man.
Today was a light day, just playing Sabacc to maintain the charade, though a special package was do in the next few days. He wondered what it'd be, but gave no sign that today was any different from any of the others. He just hoped it wouldn't cause him any extra trouble, but of course it would, these things always did, one way or another. So Savio took the time to devise several contingency plans, mostly by playing his hands poorly with idle annoyance, as the cards passed through his hands, losing a handful of creds here and there, and occasionally winning a few creds back. Always chattering, or listening, as tales passed around the table, true or otherwise didn't really matter, just so long as the conversation kept moving.
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Post by Logann Renji Montrose on Jun 2, 2016 23:12:14 GMT -8
*Here came Aedon, marching upon the victim to no doubt add his own bit of bravado, putting the poor sap in his place where he belonged, sending the message that the Crow's Nest belonged to Veritas, not this kind of slime. However, the words that came out of Aedon's mouth were not bravado, but accusation. And this Codru-Ji had been the first to assail the crew?* *Logann's grin had morphed into a surprised scowl, and then a look of realization as he got to his feet and hobbled backward, finding it difficult to ignore the pain now but nevertheless putting himself out of the picture.*
*So this was the filthy rodder who led the carnage that resulted in the shattering of the good life the Veritas crew had built for themselves here. Now Logann really wanted a piece of him, for taking away so many of the faces he'd grown accustomed to and managed to form bonds with, but this was Aedon's game more than it was his own.
And he tore him apart. Worse than Logann's taunting ever could. Not only verbally, but physically as well, going so far as to strike him across the head with his pistol and even shooting off a handful of his fingers.* *Logann's eyes actually widened in shock, though he otherwise continued to scowl at the beast who otherwise deserved it. He almost stepped forward to stop his bro; this man was their best lead and he could very easily be killed by Aedon's wild—albeit justified—rage. But Aedon only instead ran off to find a chair, bringing it with him, commanding those present to sit the Codru-Ji up in it.
Logann limped forward, he and Brick taking the gunslinger up by the arms and dragging him into the chair. He noticed Brick forcing a little more effort into the action and even groaning as he did so. Despite that, the large man still managed to deadpan,* "Looks like you're the little bug now," *before forcing himself back up to his full height, keeping a meaty hand firmly on the near-unconscious Codru-Ji's shoulder.* *Levity... they needed some of that right now. Logann didn't realize it until Brick had spoken, but they were all going to a dangerous place with this dark line of thinking. The Syndicate deserved everything coming to them.
But the crew still deserved a little fun along the way.*
*They hadn't been impressed. It had been a gambit, to be sure, but Treya in retrospect felt foolish to think such esteemed warriorlike people would think any good of the two pups behind her. Said pups also seemed incredibly crestfallen at the reaction from the Noghri, though Treya only felt amused by it. Still, if the Noghri were still so hesitant—* *The enraged yell echoed across the courtyard, demanding to know why they had to "suffer." That was a new voice. Treya frowned and looked around, before focusing on the Noghri again.*
"That one of yours?" *she guessed, though doubted it.*
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Post by Ciarán Dubh & Laoch Bán Dubh on Jun 11, 2018 23:13:12 GMT -8
Getting ahead of the other Wayfarer was not exactly easy but they slipped it, proving the skill of the pilot and it unceremoniously docked
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Twi'leck Triplet Dubh
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Pog mo thoin
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Post by Twi'leck Triplet Dubh on Jun 11, 2018 23:22:48 GMT -8
Coming in second among this crew may not have been anything to be ashamed of but Fasd was none impressed, muttering
-Captain Fasd-
"I am so popping a cap in his chest...."
And on that note they landed
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Mórrígan Dubh
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Post by Mórrígan Dubh on Jun 12, 2018 0:48:23 GMT -8
ships entered the hidden docking bay and landed. One notable exception did not
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