A Fallen Star

[Garza]

Resh 9376. The comet out here in the Outer Rim territories was still flourishing. it had been fortunate enough to not get hit very hard when the Gulag plague came crashing down. But now as it was almost gone, and how people come here often now. I felt the need to come here. Recently I have made a few contracts with people, and well, I could get what I looked for. Geared up, I left my Stryker ship with the hatch closing and the ladder rolling up. Locking it with a nice resounding Beep beep.

I pulled out a 50 credit chip and tossed it to the owner of the landing pad and walked off. Moving to the bar where I was looking for a special someone. Hopefully they would be there. If not, then I would have to search for him as well as the item I was looking for. And then I would kill my contact for being late.

(Open to anyone)

 

[Carden Lorps]

Carden walked into yet another bar, it seemed as if he'd been in them more and more latley. Drinking or not, they were still pretty cool to be in. As always like most bars this smelled of smoke and was filled with drunken deadbeats. Carden decided to go to the bar anyway, he sat on the barstool and ordered a Corellian Whiskey. The Bartender nodded, got his drink then went to serve another person. Carden took a few sips of his whiskey and put it back on the counter. He looked around at all the drunken deadbeats pft. Pafetic, only a lowlife would spend their time in a bar and get drunk when there is so much more to do out of this rathole. Carden sat at the stool waiting, waiting for a opritunity to come up, a opritunity for anything. Carden needed a job, he didn't know if he'd get one but bars was always a good place to start because what better place for lowlife creatures to hang and do business. Even if he didn't get a job he'd still be happy getting drunk like the rest of the people here.

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Dred Malachore]

Dred walked into the bar wearing full beskar'gam and carrying his normal array of weapons. A verpine shatter pistol rested in the firm grip of his right hand, just begging to shoot. He walked up to the rodian target who was sitting at the bar. Poor di'kut. He never had a chance. Before the rodian could react, a bullet tore through his back. Dred had been the shooter. Everyone stopped and stared, but Dred acted as if they weren't even there. He dumped the body outside then crossed the patron's name off of the bounty board on the wall before sitting at the bar and taking his helmet off. "One bottle of ne'tra gal. Yeah I said a bottle."
[member="Carden Lorps"]
[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[TheReal_McChicken]

Vor'Haash wandered over to the bar and sat next to Dred, "You gonna drink all that?" He said jokingly. "That was a nice 'disposal', I haven't seen such a straight up murder in front of a crowd since a contract I had on Dantooine 5 years ago!" He chuckled. "Vor'Haash Zarten, Assassin, Smuggler, Pirate, you name it, I can probably do it." He said sticking his hand out for a shake. "Now, about that ale. That's some strong stuff."

 

[Dred Malachore]

Dred clipped his helmet to his belt as a man walked in. His rough features weren't surprising for a grizzled veteran. As his drink was set down, the man sat beside Dred. "I might drink it all, but then again I might not want to get too drunk with this.. Seedy crowd. And straight up murders are my specialty." Dred smiled slightly to Vor'haash, shaking the man's hand with a firm grip. "Dred Malachore. Mando'ade, bounty hunter, assassin, mercenary, and jatnese be te jatnese." Of course, Dred was seeming arrogant. But he had reason to be, based on the 3 sabers hanging from his belt. "And the ne'tra gal is an.. acquired taste."
[member="Vor'Haash Zarten"], [member="Carden Lorps"], [member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

Now that was different. A mando, Dignified by this armor, and the general acting of shooting first before speaking, he just dealt with his pay and was done. Taking the body to a different part somewhere else, then appearing back a few minutes later. Sitting at one of the booths, I picked up the glass to my lips and sipped on the beer. I let my head drop as I could hear the mando and another man speak. None of the people here were the man I wanted, but I decided to stay a little longer. The three sabers hanging from the man's belt were either his own weapons, or just trophies of the dead.

Suddenly as he finished speaking, all three sabers would raise from his belt and activate pointing each tip at him as he held the bottle. There was no indication that I myself was doing it, but I was smiling as they pointed and hummed at him. "Looks like the ghosts of the dead don't like you son." I may have looked young, but I was far older than this man.

[member="Dred Malachore"], [member="Vor'Haash Zarten"], [member="Carden Lorps"],

 

[The Upright Man]

[member="Dante Zankar"] | [member="Dred Malachore"] |[member="Vor'Haash Zarten"] |[member="Carden Lorps"]

The booth was quiet but for a solitary figure drinking a gentle beverage and drawing in drags from a cigar. She gently tapped the smoke she held between two fingers, spraying a small pile of ash on the table. She brought it back to her lips, taking in a deep breath through the filter. She watched the Mando'a and his abrupt appearance, placing a slug in the back of another patron. Lily Rose was here at Point Nadir as she had dealings with Sable Dawn. She wasn't so sure how the secretive criminal organisation would feel about patrons being shot in the back within their territory - if they weren't gaining some credits from it.

She downed the non-alcoholic drink in a singular gulp. The cigarra was purposely squashed against the table, left to smoulder upon the hard wood. She brushed past the worst kind of people. Hired goons and thugs. Dirty and rotten. She slid her helmet over her face, a preference of hers. She didn't like many people knowing who she was. She felt as though her choice as a bounty hunter brought shame to the Keshiri people, and chose not for them to feel such shame by hiding her identity. Plasma burst to life with a familiar snap-hiss. Where once the fellow Mando'a had been sitting peacefully, three sabres pointed towards him. She had only intended to give him a word of advice, not save him. But she recognised his beskar'gam as one belonging to the Mando'a. Even if she didn't know him, she had to help him. Honour bound her.

Her eyes swept across the room, scanning. Sure, criminals didn't mind a little bloodshed from their own kind, but lightsabers made even hardy thugs jittery. Patrons were whispering loudly, moving among one another quickly. It was making her job harder, and she didn't have much time. There. Her hand reached up to her helmet, gently twisting a nozzle. A solitary man at a booth was smiling. It was as best a bet as anyone. Her footsteps were inaudible among the buzzing of the crowd as he pushed her way towards Dante. Her hand turned the nozzle, resuming her visor to display without zoom. Her hand brushed against the holstered MP-77 at her waist, gently stroking the barrel and pulling the blaster free. She stepped up to Dante, left hand holding the blaster towards his shoulder, aiming diagonal. If she fired, the plasma wouldn't kill him, but it would do enough damage to his internal organs that he wouldn't be doing much but moaning and groaning. She leaned down, whispering soothingly into his ear, "Release the Mando'a."

 

[Dred Malachore]

Dred was surprised when his trophies sprung to life. It was obviously a force user, and a man was smiling and making remarks. Obvious give-away. Calmly, Dred spoke. "Areutii, that's a bad idea." Another Mandalorian had aimed her blaster at the man, hopefully he wasn't some fool that would try and get a fight going. "And if you plan on killing me, it won't do you much good." Just then, he tapped something on his forearm datapad. The sabers remotely deactivated, leaving the sith without any leverage. Dred remained seated, taking a sip of his beverage as he gave the woman a slight smile. Don't mess with mandos, when will they learn..
[member="Luminous"], [member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

I smiled as the lightsabers deactivated, while another Mando was having a gun pointed to my back. I smiled brightly. he thought this was the first mando I had dealt with. Hell, I had taken on four at once. Well above his pay grade. "Arrogant, Straight forward, full of themselves. Mando'ade or should I call you a son of Mandalore?" I pulled a random glass from the bar and took a swig. Powerful and burning as it went down my throat. Setting it down, I spoke again, "nah why would I kill a mando? No point in it if I don't get my enjoyment out of it."

The lightsaber hilts that were hovering in the air, went to come in front of my face. One a sith's Marked with the old Sith Empire insignia, and one as a Jedi symbol of the Order, as well as the last one being that of the Rebel symbol of a Phoenix. I shook my head and let them drift to the counter. "You may think I am a fool to be messing with you and your buddy as a Mandalorian Initiate. Visible by your lack of use of Crushgauntlets. But let me tell you who I am, I created a faction from the ground up, Fought the Betrayer of Hope, Man of a million souls, The Conqueror of a Thousand worlds, The Lord of Shadows, and the Thronebreaker. I have faced off against an army of biologically engineered droids, And survived a blast from a Superstar destroyer. I carry the weapon of Despair and a sword that can never be broken." I turned and with my hand reached out with the force to the gun in the woman's hand, and crushed it. Becoming a lump of metal and then dissipating into ash at her feet. Speaking to her now.

"I have a list of names that are in a Language that you would never understand of people I have fought and destroyed. I fought Verz Horak, and Mia Monroe, both Former Mandalores of the Collected Clans of Mandalore. You, the lowest rank of them all, would be an ant beneath my boot." The pistol that the man had used earlier was picked up without my hands or body moving. it moved to be out of his reach, and pointed at him. "So please, tell me how I should learn not to face one of you, or how Force Users have to learn not to Mess with mandos, And continue to give me at least one good reason, not to pull the trigger on your own pistol." My face was dead serious. Nothing would sway me. Even with all the names I had given, many of which he would not even know of, I still had more that could be given.

if he looked to my back, he could see the Dark Claymore bone grip that was over my right shoulder, or the ornate grip of my second Sith sword on my hip, and the GH-44 blaster pistol on my thigh of my left leg. I wore no armor, but even if he would try, the man would lose. I had powers that could absorb the life out of him, turn him to dust, or literally fry him into atoms that made up his body. I was not to be tested.

[member="Dred Malachore"], [member="Luminous"],

 

[Dred Malachore]

"You want one reason? I could give you a thousand." he said calmly, smiling behind his helmet. "Here's a few. One, it won't hurt me. Two, you're just a man as I am. No matter how much you gloat, you are just a man. You can die and you will. It's just a matter of when. Three, your force powers are the sole source of your power. Without them, you're nothing." Dred leisurely walked past his pistol which was floating mid air. Then, he plucked his sabers from the air and clipped them to his belt. He just wanted a karking drink, but now he had sith to deal with. Hopefully this wouldn't escalate any further. Dred walked towards the sith, hands visibly away from his weapons and moving to rest on his belt. "Do you know what Ret'lini is, Sith?"
[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[The Upright Man]

[member="Dred Malachore"] | [member="Dante Zankar"]

She let the man run his mouth. She paid little attention to him. She knew his type - self-righteous and pretentious. It was almost cringe worthy the words he spoke, he already sounded like a drunk. All the while she held her pistol there, unable to see him. Her visor was full of streaming data. The screen acknowledged her eye movements, inputing the data. What was she doing? Slicing. She faltered for a moment in her eye movements as she felt her pistol crush within her grasp by the force user. She needed to hurry before he stopped his child-like tirade. She was accessing the alarm systems, and it wouldn't be hard. It wasn't as hard as accessing bank accounts or the Jedi Archives remotely. With the flick of her eyes, the alarms were set to blare in five seconds. She dropped the gun. Five. Lily rested her hands on his shoulders. Four. Her visor depolarised to give her a view of the man before her. Three. She ejected the retractable vibroblade in her right wrist, simultaneously igniting the ZX miniature flame projector in her left wrist into his other shoulder in an attempt to thrust him in a two frontal point-blank range attack. Even for a Force User, it would be hard to dodge an attack at such a close proximity. Two. She didn't tarry, the moment the two weapons simultaneously ejected, her JT-12 jet pack burst to life. One. Had she succeeded, the vibroblade would wrench through bone and flesh before she launched herself across the room via the jetpack, towards the door. She needed to get him outside. Alarms began to blare loudly, the dim room exploded to life with red flashing lights. People shot up out of their seats, chaos ensued.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Dante Zankar"] [member="Dred Malachore"] @Luminous @Vor'Haash Zarten [member="Carden Lorps"]

A voice cut through the cantina noise as Ashin slid out of a corner booth, a rough-edged woman in simple spacer clothes, a blaster pistol on one hip and a simple lightsabre on the other. Her limp had gotten worse since the days when she'd been the Master and Dante Zankar the ambitious Knight; she leaned on a gimer stick, a cane cut from a tree on Dagobah. Her Force presence was a sliver of its former self.

"Oh, calm your grief, Shaw." That wasn't the name Zankar used these days, but Ashin knew him by no other. "If you're going to torch the schutta, it doesn't take two hundred words, unless you're an especially fast-talking Nightsister-"

She was about to add a few words in support of ret'lini when the place exploded into violence. She stumbled back into a crouch, blaster pistol finding her left hand, but as yet she didn't fire.

 

[Garza]

The man spoke, making a very wanting threat. I was oh so close to just simply let go on this man with my bare fists and send him flying up into orbit. Wouldn't be that hard either. That's when the woman moved. Even if she thought she could not be heard, she was wrong. having a higher sensitivity to sounds, noises and such, I knew she moved. To where? I did not know other than that it was the other side of the room. Hearing the voice of once a master of mine, I smiled. her speaking of being a nightsister to speak fast of my words. And Chaos Went into full swing.

hands came on my shoulders. But as the woman was counting down seconds, My body could move faster. My hands moved with speed that could match the Czar soldiers when they were still alive, Grabbing her armored wrists. my back arched to throw her over me. being an Ex soldier, I knew how to and could throw people over my shoulders. Doing so, There was no way out of that. I saw the vibroblade come out and the flame projector came on, but was crushed in my hand with the aid of the force. her jetpack wined on and with a hop over her, she would fly out of the bar alone. I defended myself against her attacks, but once that was done, I hoped over the bar to let the others pass by me.

Shaking my head as myself and this man could have simply done a fist fight, and she had to escalate it with her weapons and setting off the alarms.

[member="Dred Malachore"], [member="Luminous"], [member="Ashin Varanin"],

 

[Dred Malachore]

Dred watched the confrontation, then plucked his pistol from the air. "I believe this is mine" he said. The woman who stepped forward seemed old and wise. She carried a glimmer stick and spoke with a certain confidence. He stebpped in front of her, prepared to shield her from and stray flames. Yet he kept his weapons holstered. "Ni dinu ner gaan naakyc, jorcu ni nu copaani kyr'amur ner vod" If the sith understood this phrase, he might calm down. The words meant: Honor my offer of truce, for I would not willingly shed my sister's blood.
[member="Dante Zankar"]
[member="Ashin Varanin"]
[member="Luminous"]

 

[TheReal_McChicken]

As the fight ensued, Vor'Haash pulled his pistol out of its holster and pointed it back and forth between Dred and Dante. "Look, I don't wanna have to kill someone." He turned to Ashin, "And you lady, have picked the wrong bar to be in. We all have." He said in I suave tone. He walk to the bartender, "As much alcohol as you can give me please." He asked politely, "I have some problems to get over" he said again while smashing the bottle on the ground. He lit a match and held it above his head. "I'm about to go old-school on you." He said as he dove away from scene and threw the match. The match landed away from the alcohol. "Damn it." He said. He overdid him self to an extent that his plans where quite embarrassing failure.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@Luminous @Vor'Haash Zarten [member="Dante Zankar"] [member="Dred Malachore"]

Too many things going on at once, too many people trying to be heard, one even using a jetpack indoors -- Ashin had a little trouble keeping track of it all. Her sphere of influence was mainly the Mando offering truce in front of her -- her mando'a was passable -- the Dark Master in front of him, the mouthy Kaleesh at the bar, and jetpack girl.

"He's asking for a truce, Shaw. Seems I'm an innocent bystander."

 

[Garza]

People running, and people screaming. While the one man tried to light a fire with some alcohol during all of this, it was not a surprise that he missed. I got a damned headache from everyone trying to get out. One of the bad things from having better hearing. Eventually everyone was out at some point. Even now, I still don't understand why the woman set off the alarm. Actually it was quite stupid of her to do that.

Looking over to the three of us who were still standing and had moved out of the peoples way as they rushed out of here, Ashin said something about a truce when everyone was still running out. Before I spoke, I could feel and almost see something strange with her. As if she was not using the force to heal her wounds? She did have a limp when she walked out from the side.

"And what may the truce be? There are many." I was no witch so I decided to keep it short. And seeing as how sometimes I made things a little more over dramatic, I toned it down. Sorry, but I just do not like it when people think they are better than everyone else just because of the name they carry.

[member="Ashin Varanin"], [member="Vor'Haash Zarten"], [member="Dred Malachore"], [member="Luminous"],