A New Kind Of Criminal [Open]

[Vuhan Chen]

[media] https://youtu.be/nZ0VhXkxiQU [/media]​

A New Kind of Criminal ​

Miss Blonde had been the biggest name on Nar Shaddaa. The ruthless Queen of the criminal underworld who made smaller operations tremble as she blackened the eyes of empires with cutthroat efficiency. There was just one problem. That was then, and this was now. One couldn't live in the past and go over the glory days while everything burned around you. With Miss Blonde's retirement as firm as it could get, people in Syndicate were fairly confident that she wasn't going to pull a Jay-Z and come back six months later. So that left a metaphorical big pair of shoes to fill, who could replace Miss Blonde as the leader of the feared criminal organization?

"Welcome." ​

A warm and stern voice greeted the airwaves of Nar Shaddaa's broadcasting system. Coming on holo projectors across the planet would be a man dressed in a overly colorful pink suit embroidered with different designs going across the pink fabric of the jacket. He wore no tie, or was even bothered to button up his dress shirt which was as equally colorful as the jacket it came with. The entire ensemble was a far cry from what the people of Nar Shaddaa were used to. Reflective soulless lenses of a gas mask coupled with pitch black abyss colored fabric of a suit and tie, really it was a refreshing break. The man even bothered to show his face. A rather handsome and gentle one with the guise of a fatherly figure who only wanted the best for his children.

"My name is Vuhan Chen, and I am of course the new head of Syndicate. Now I know in the past my predecessor had a taste for violence and killing the innocent as she pleased. That however does not reflect me, nor does it change my morals on what I deem to be right. The killing of innocents- no." He paused rather briefly yet dramatically. Chen's eyes scanned across the lens of the camera as if he were looking at everyone in the room where his projection was being played.

"Not innocents. The good and strong people of Nar Shaddaa! Who have weathered not only the rule of Miss Blonde, but so many others! Let me tell you a story! Fifteen years ago when the Black Suns ruled this place! All of you lived under the thumb of drug dealers, murderers, and psychos! Five years later! You had an incompetent Republic watch over you as gangs continued to ravage your streets! Another five years and you had the Red Ravens sit idly by and collect vast sums of credits while they pilfered your pockets and left your bodies to rot! And just now you have survived the rule of a woman who actively killed your friends and family if they dared even to be in the same vicinity of her operation! That to me is not right! All of it is unjust!" Slamming his fist down on a podium, Chen showed a bit of fire in his eyes and body. It seemed that he genuinely cared about this little backwater moon.

Steadying himself the man took a deep breath and fixed his rather exotic haircut a bit by parting it back over to one side.

"But I digress. I can go on and on about the horrors you have all been exposed to. Or I can offer a solution, and that is exactly what I intend to do." As Chen leaned forward on his podium he stared a rather sinister glare towards the lens and outward onto Nar Shaddaa, his next few words came into the mic low and intense.

"To all the gangs, cartels, and organizations that have sprung up in the wake of Miss Blonde's retirement to hound and exploit the good people of this planet. I say NO MORE. Spend your credits in good health, because they are the last you will ever get from these people. Not a single chip will be given to you. There will be no mercy shown, no quarter given, and we will end all of you." Changing up his demeanor the man stood straight once more and smiled.

"Though I am not unfair. We know that we can not end all crime, that's impossible. Join Syndicate and stand with us to ensure that Nar Shaddaa becomes a world where criminals, people, and whoever else can live without the threat of violence. A true neutral world that we will oversee and keep a permanent ceasefire among organizations. If not for the safety of your members, then agree for the people of this world. We have already reached out to one of the larger organizations on this world, to which they denied us. Let this serve as an example to those who stand against peace." Chen then clasped his hands over the podium and prepared his final remarks.

"To the people of Nar Shaddaa. Peace can not be achieved without further violence, and for that I am truly sorry. Stay indoors tonight, take shelter wherever you can, for tonight there will be blood. Stay safe Nar Shaddaa." And with that, the broadcast shut off and Chen was off the air.

With a long sigh, Chen stepped off from behind the podium and onto the level hardwood floors Syndicate's new base of operations. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and quickly placed one between his lips, to which shortly thereafter a young fresh faced member of the organization light for him. There was a long drag as Chen relaxed himself for what would come next. Slowly he took another drag and exhaled before reaching into his pocket to pull out a commlink and speak into it.

"All kill teams. The target is the local gang known as Serroco. A bunch of Mandalorians who got together after the fall of the clans and figured putting together a little group would be fun. I want the majority of them dead, and I want their leadership brought to me alive. They can be found at Meridian Hall. Calls signs for kill teams on this mission are War Daddy, Murder Inc, Coyote Tango, and Rocksteady. Stick to your teams call sign over comms and get it done. Finishing giving out orders, Chen then took a drag and exhaled once more while situating himself into an otherwise empty room for his last set of orders.

On a heavily encrypted comm link, Chen smiled a wicked grin as he pressed the talk button.

"Black Hand, Black Hand this is Overlord Actual. Commence operation Black Flag. Strap on your Hutt Cartel outfits and masks. The target is Club Vertica Casino." Chen then paused for a bit.

"Make it... bloody." And so the night of mayhem and violence on the Smuggler's Moon would begin.


OOC PLEASE READ

Spoiler

To explain things. Vuhan Chen has ordered the mass shooting and hostage situation of a popular club and casino in a false flag operation to frame the Hutt Cartel and demonize them while raising his own moral Standard to get the people behind him. If you are participating in that objective, only your character(s) know about it. Anyone outside of that including other Syndicate members not working that objective have no idea that Chen is as crooked any other crime lord, in fact he's kind of a tyrant. We want to build up the internal tension within the organization and really bring dramatic story telling both inside and out. So thank you for being with us for the new line of Syndicate threads. All are welcome to join.

[member="Xiarr Sair"] [member="Trin Halleck"] [member="Zeraph"] Kerx Zyron [member="Dexen Yash"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Umedara Zaar"] [member="B'kik"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Middenface McNulty"]

 

[Thraxis]

A gang, a vile group of debauchery and scum gathered around a table, their features blank as boredom continued to set in, the odd coin flipping through the air, another a dagger sketching foul imagery into the stained wooden table. One sighed than another. Of course, another one as they went round the table a vicious cycle of misery and boredom expressed through a symphony of sound. "Remeber when there used to be stuff to do on Nar Shadaa? Now, all it is are a bunch of gangs fighting for scraps." He groaned as he and his veteran Gammorean friends looked at each other. He meant the glory days of the cartel, something that was never coming back no matter how many iterations of the thing popped up.

"Yeah, I 'member." The grizzled voice grunted out, his voice twisted and turned as he tried to speak a nigh impossible language for his poor Gammorean voice. His head was slouched against the table, in one ear a small cable sat hanging loosely out as a bud was stuck at the end, soft murmurs whispering from it as the others waited for their turn on the noise machine.

Then it popped into existence, the Gammorean's eyes flared to life as the comm link flashed life as a pink-suited gentleman appeared. He was far more well dressed than what anyone at the table expected, this was Hutt Cartel meeting levels of dress up. "Look, Ghurk. No one else here is gay." He paused, looking around the table as the man spoke, the rest nodding in agreeance, "And no one else here wants to watch your special...." He paused as he heard words completely foreign to this side of Nar Shadaa, and only being considered alien on the other. "Wait... Is this the new iteration of the Syndicate? Dressed like a fruitcake and preaching peace?" He looked to the rest clarification, they all were dumbfounded. Pretty Colours on Nar Shadaa was only ever seen on half naked women, and even than at most it might have been their skin colour.

And the man continued. And his words were sickened far more than Thraxis ever mustered, the words of a man gone both senile and mad in age spoke of a peaceful Nar Shadaa? Similar to the concept of a cold Volcanic Planet. It was, for all intents and purposes the most idiotic idea he had ever heard rolled from a man, women, child or anything in between's mouth.

And he loved it.

"Well. Boy's." His face an amalgamation of excitement and mourn, "Look's like we got some moving to do. Ain't no way we can stop the Syndicate." He said with a slight glean in his eye, looking over the table with cusped hands as the rest was only able to meet with a series of confused grunts and startled silence. "But. That don't mean we can't go see what the hell they have planned. Now." He paused once more, letting the idea sink into their minds "Who knows where they are?" He said as a few looked to the screen, playing it back and forth trying to narrow down from the background. For five minutes they sat there, drawing notes on the table with knives, the bar keep visibly displeased at the actions of the ragamuffins.

"Okay. This ain't goin's nowares." A short stumpy Gammorean popped up, they had come to the realisation a little before, but no one wanted to say it aloud. "Look, they said they be gon' caze some Killin's Right?" The Gammorean paused, pulling to his lips a rotund Cigar, letting it hand between his flabby lips as he looked around to the crew, letting loose a puff of black haze every time he parted his lips to speak. "So thans. We just gotna let them be da callin' cards." The rest looked to him. Then around to each other, shrugging. Slaff wasn't wrong, it wasn't the answer they wanted. But he wasn't wrong.

And in the end, until the calling of death whisked them away, they were back to square one. A gang, a vile group of debauchery and scum gathered around a table, their features blank as boredom continued to set in, the odd coin flipping through the air, another a dagger sketching foul imagery into the stained wooden table.
[member="Vuhan Chen"]

 

[The Count]

N A R S H A D D A A , C L U B V E R T I C A​

OPERATION: BLACK HAND​

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One million credits.

One million fething credits was the payout to spill a couple thousand droplets of blood onto the expensive carpeting of Club Vertica Casino.

Dexen had hit the jackpot this time, and he was more than willing to jump through a few hoops to get through to it. The aspiring crime lord had left his faithful IG assassination droid aboard his equally faithful Corellian freighter, opting to take on this mission alone and in person.

Truthfully, the Alderaanian had never done something like this before, and it sent chills down his spine which he interpreted as either fear, or excitement.

Ironic that it took mass murder to get the motor running of someone who worked so feverishly to prevent something like that from happening in his territory between warring gangs in the Kuat Sector. Yash would've went with the other fireteams, going to kill members of the Serroco and bring their leaders back alive, but he felt that doing the darkest bidding of an extremely powerful lord of an extremely powerful Syndicate would gain him some gravitas.

And so there he was, with several other people who were supposed to form a cohort with him, most likely of equal notoriety as he was; known but unimportant. They had been supplied with a stolen Hutt Cartel dropship to further exemplify their purpose, as well as a handful of outfits and masks that gave them the guise of Hutt enforces.

The man finished strapping on some of the armor that was leaning on the heavy side, that way anything the local security or worse, the corrupt police, would throw his way would leave nothing more than a mere scorch mark on thick durasteel and alum. An ancient MWC-35c repeating cannon would be his weapon of choice, seeing as they were to be massacring civilians in troves.

He looked out of the viewport and saw that they were quickly approaching the club, therefore he strapped his mask over his bearded features and brought up his hood to cover the back of his head before raising an encrypted comlink to his face, "Overlord Actual, this is Black Hand; We've arrived, and we're going to make the fountains run crimson, over and out." Yash reported and then stuffed the device back onto his belt. Strapping the power cell container of his weapon onto his back, and raising his blaster, here turned to his accomplices and uttered a single phrase:

"Remember - No Basic"

[Theme]​

[member="Vuhan Chen"]

 

[Trin Halleck]

(THEME)​

"Deals like this don't come around often, so don't screw it up."

Trin stood on one of the roofing panels of the enormous Club Vertica Casino, looking down through one of the obscure ventilation shafts that led straight down to Meridian Hall. There was a vent-fan in the way, but that could be easily circumvented, or jammed, with the right tools. From, behind her headscarf she peered down, marking targets to prioritize and secondaries that'll just get in the way of the big ones. No longer in her animal hide-supplemented Echani Fiber armor, she now donned a hard duraplast Mandalorian Assault suit, save for the helmet which usually got in the way. She came fully kitted this evening, with her cycler rifle slung around her left shoulder. A sorry but functional excuse for a jetpack was mounted on her back as well, and then there was the standard Westar sidearm holstered by her waist, and a short Echani vibro that was holstered onto the other side of the utility belt. Her gauntlets also brandished the full Mandalorian payload - grappling cord and the notorious mini-flamethrower unit. As this wasn't a heavy unit, it didn't feature that magical rocket launcher that could puncture a durasteel door.

From this height and even to passing speeders nearby, Trin would be a mere silhouette against the massive structure's rooftop fixtures. She couldn't mark her friendlies yet - other mercs also in on the false flag operation, but she could already hear [member="Dexen Yash"] sound in. Good. She wasn't shown up like so many times before.

"Rocksteady One, standing by for the opener", she also comm-ed in, in response to the former and to tag herself as ready. "I'm in position."

She'd arc the vent-fan and kick her way down into the hall, and with her jetback rest on the open porch on the second floor from which she could hunker down and snipe. Trin wasn't one for full-contact frontline activity - she preferred to use stealth, guile, technology and technique to her advantage.

Main hunt today was a group of Serroco's, pesky Mando space trout that consisted mainly of veterans from wars past. Obsolete and antiquated, Trin thought to herself with a soft grunt and as she removed her cycler from her shoulder and loaded a clip.

[member="Vuhan Chen"] [member="Thraxis"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

Meridian Hall​

Theme​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWN4mgiGcNo​

​

"Overlord Actual, Murder Inc-1 ready for engagement." The Mandalorian leaned against the wall next to a metal outer door. His tomahawk was in his left hand, beskad in his right. He had developed the fighting style that few had seen before, and fewer still knew how to properly counter. The Mandalorians inside wouldn't stand much of a chance, "brothers" or not. When the clans broke apart, so did Nicair's loyalty, he reneged against the overtly political mess that the Mandalorians had become. He held no more caring for those inside this building than an animal that needs to be put down. He had learned awhile ago that all these factions boiled down to were birds fluffing their plumage for position.

He made sure to rotate his wrists to keep them loose as he awaited the arrival of the other members of his kill team. He had run similar operations with the Mandalorians and even as an independent. Street, house to house combat was brutal, stuck in the thick of it one can only move forward. He rather enjoyed it. His heartbeat began to rise in anticipation. He hated street gangs, no order, no discipline, killing indiscriminately simply because they can. Nicair planned on doing just that, however, but he had a goal, to stop it. The scraped off tattoo on his wrist reminded him that these gang members simply had to learn the profits of slavery before they did it themselves. These small gangs were part of a larger sickness, like a disease they had to be stamped out, burned away, cut from the rest. If a few "innocent" lives need to be taken in the process then so be it. No one's innocent. Not in the galaxy, and certainly not on Nar Shaddaa.

The others should be arriving any minute now.

[member="Vuhan Chen"]

 

[Zeraph]

Club Vertica​

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Mr. Tillman, a man with too much money with too much time, hired the merc to watch his back while he stayed on Nar Shaddaa. Zeraph agreed, only because the man was, for all his money, not a bad person. He gave to charity, funded many companies that helped others, paid many a hospital bills for those who couldn't afford them, and when it was all said and done, well, one could see it now. Tillman enjoyed gambling his pocket change, thousands upon thousands just in his open checking account. The merc didn't get it, but it wasn't his money to spend, plus, everyone had their vice. For Zeraph, let's just say his vice was his own personal interest and keep it at that.

The job was simple, stay by his side, protect, and enjoy a little vacay too. Mr. Tillman had many other guards under Zeraph's command currently, all outside, all watching and waiting. All Zeraph had too do was watch Tillman lose and win money all week as he was in a small tournament at the club. For now, it seemed lady luck was on Tillman's side, one hundred thousand in the pot, Tillman was all in too.

Damn, this man has way too much money...way too much....

The merc's thoughts trailed off too something that really didn't matter, but it helped get him to forget that he was protecting a phat play boy for a little fortune.

"It's about time we pack up and go, aye Mr. Zeraph?"

The merc came back to the here and now, clearing his senses and his training was back online.

"Mr. Zeraph?"

"Quiet, just for a little bit....Mr. Jackpot."

In his ears, the guards seemed to be going crazy, some idiot forgot that their coms were still very much on. Talks about betraying the boss cause some Hutts paid em big to gun down the 'good ol boy' was too good to pass off. It seemed money could buy anyone these days...even him. With a certain sigh, Zeraph gripped his sword on his back.

"It's time to skutter butt outta here my main man. Get your karking self up, and move."

 

[Tanya Thiran]

The voice came over her comlink. It was time to start cleaning the streets of Nar Shadaa. She activated her saber and approached a group of gang members. The man dos looked at her, and as they began raising their rifles, she kept over to them, decaptiating one. His fellow gang members attempted to fire,only to be crushed against a wall by the force. Three got up and raised their side arms, which Tanya tore out of their hands. In moments, none of them had heads.
Her fellow War daddy crew would be here soon, and she intended to establish a jump in golf point inside. She stepped into the entrance of Meridian Hall, fully expect to be imeadiatly fired upon. Nothing. She continued down the hall, turning to corner to see man dos getting ready to fight off anyone who came by. They were slit ly set up, but we're out of position. She activated her saber and began the fight, killing two of the ten, before being pinned down.

[member="Vuhan Chen"][member="Trin Halleck"][member="Nicair Claden"]

 

[Vuhan Chen]

Meridian Hall ​

And just like that, the darkened streets of Nar Shaddaa a light show of deadly plasma that whistled through the air in an attempt to hit a target. Bright streaks of red and green pierced the otherwise dull veils of blues and yellows that made up the artificial lighting of the underworld, and within that veil were the fighting men and women of Syndicate's deadliest mercs and foot soldiers. The individuals you called upon to make problems go away for a fair price, and right now the problem that was Serreco needed to be handled with extreme prejudice.

One of the more experienced yet still rash members of Syndicate had decided to take that philosophy and deal just jump right into it. [member="Tanya Thiran"] had approached the front door where a small gaggle of the Mandalorian gang were hanging out, and in the drop of dime the woman had slain nearly the lot of them in a deadly dance of blades and the force. With alarms starting to ring and the sounds of booted feet mobilizing, it seemed that the Mandalorians were already on edge from Vuhan's threat. Everyone seemed to be packing, but then again that was a common trait among the Mandalorian people. Not that it mattered all that much, all that were present in Meridian Hall were dead men. They just didn't know it yet.

"This is Overlord Actual. All teams engage. No mercy." With confirmations that shots had been fired, Chen gave the orders for all teams to make the assault.

Inside the halls of the Meridian, a group of men stood around a table. Draped on the wall was a tattered Mandalorian flag that had seen better days, and most likely had seen battle many times before. Standing below that was a grizzled older man with an eyepatch and a greying beard to match the clean cut of a military man. It seemed that whoever he was, he was in charge, and he intended to see his people victorious.

"Intruders have assaulted the outer perimeter. All men mobilize and eliminate the scum. For Serroco!" He shouted out over the intercom that rang out through the facility.

Still getting their head around the situation, so far they were only aware of the one saber jockey outside the front doors. As over two scores of Mandos ran towards their position, others started to enforce hard points and man windows around the hall. Which was of course a sniper's delight. For the carnage displayed was only an inkling of that which would soon come.

Club Vertica Casino ​

It was a normal night at Vertica. The affluent of Nar Shaddaa gambled fortunes of credits away and numbed themselves with drink and drugs. A disgusting display of wealth and status, those who would spend more money in a single hand than those who worked a lifetime could ever make. In some ways Vuhan believed they deserved to die. Though he was in no way trying to rationalize their deaths, be them innocent or not. He simply had a means to an end laid out before him, and if it means spilling blood then he'd happily throw on a raincoat and go wading through the pools of blood he had ordered to be spilt. Because here on Nar Shaddaa, it was all about one thing. Control.

Control of the underworld meant you had to do gruesome things to get ahead of the rest. You had to slice, stab, and shoot your way to the top on mounds of corpses. Miss Blonde had done it, the Red Ravens before her had done it, the Black Suns before them, and the Hutt Cartel before them dating back to the old republic. A legacy of death and violence personified in the orders that the crime lord had given to his men. Orders that were to be carried out in a few seconds.

"Black Hand, this is Overlord Actual. Make sure you wear your masks, I don't want to have to kill you if you are identified. And don't just shoot cocktail waitresses and Vertica staff. Hit the rich and powerful, their deaths will carry more weight. Overlord Actual out." Chen hated to micromanage operations, but this one was extremely important to him.

Syndicate's success hinged on moments like these. If they were ever to ascend to a power that could be felt throughout the Galaxy, then they had to take Nar Shaddaa as an area in which they could call home. A base of operations for what could be the most successful criminal empires the Galaxy had seen. They just had to do a lot of killing before that could happen. Soon the other gangs would fall in line and Chen could reign supreme over those who at one point dared stand against him.

Hopefully the bolts would start flying soon. Chen had other plans to execute after all. Schemes to make and bodies to stack.

[member="Thraxis"] [member="Dexen Yash"] [member="Trin Halleck"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Zeraph"] [member="Tanya Thiran"]

 

[Thraxis]

The sound was soft and silent, a mere whisper in the wind that channelled excitment through the air like blood through veins. Their heads cocked with the slightest of turns, eyes bouncing around the room as they watched each other with baited breath. This was Nar Shadaa. A little bit of gunfire off in the night could be any number of thing, a hooker being shot down, a gang tussle or if they were lucky. Some Festivities went awry. Through drunken breaths, they waited it out. The sound of wood against steel a faint noise as they slid ever so slightly from their seat, tension in the air as all in the bar followed their steps looking to the doorway, seeing the sight of plasma swing across the window. The group went down to their belts, cocking the hammers of their guns back a little as a few more shots were fired and the choir began.

They slowly stumbled in a drunken haze, their lips curved at the ends as their bodies pressed against the walls, Thraxis hand coiled around the knob of the door as the Barkeep sighed in response, another day another set of ruined furniture and drunkards leaving his bar. Slowly Thraxis turned, pushing the door open with an arch of a swing, the drunken air slowly rolling out in a misty haze, tinged the slightest from all the fumes that puffed and filled the Tavern. Thraxis turned a head and saw nothing.

He didn't know what to expect, from the way it was built up, he thought at least anarchy filling the streets. But nothing. No children running from guns ablaze, no marching armies of death-bots come to seize the town. Instead of a symphony of quite. His brow furrowed, the Gammoreans slowly funnelling out as they watched and turned, the only noise to be heard was the scratching heads as they looked around for something, anything of interest. "Oh this is Horsecrap!" He yelled his voice stirring across the street as the Gammoreans looked around for anything, only to come up short. "Where are the explosions and crap!" He inquired, grabbing a Gammorean by the shoulders and shaking him a few time for added effect.

"Well, maybe thay are dem sneakerz. Ya know, the ones who like Assasinating peple." The shaken Gammorean responded, Thraxis summarily pausing to think over the concept. That would have made sense. Make peace from the shadows so the children didn't have to watch, but it conflicted with a single primal urge of his. To be bombastic by nature.

With a quizzical glance, he got the rest of their opinions, what they thought on the subject matter only to get a series of shrugs and coughs. "Right. Well, then you know what the solution then doesn't yall." He paused, the rest giving passing nods. If the Syndicate weren't going to blow stuff up, then they clearly had too.
[member="Vuhan Chen"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

The sound of combat inside was really all the Mandalorian needed to engage let alone the confirmation from his comlink shortly after. Once he had breached the door a familiar sight caught his eye. That of supposed Mandalorians slain by a lightsaber, the charred slashes and decapitated stumps were a "dead" giveaway. There was something this Jedi hadn't done, had someone at their back, or properly cleared the corridors that spiderwebbed off. The sound of boots rang out from the other hallways.

Take your pick.

Nicair loosened his arms as he broke into a jog for the nearest entryway. He did what he could to mask the sound of his footfalls, which considering his boots were made of heavy beskar, wasn't much but it showed experience doing so. The thumping of boots was swiftly getting closer, no doubt they could probably hear him too. He was going to need to be fast and unpredictable. His fighting style lent itself well to both and his armor would protect him from anything from a blaster bolt to a lightsaber, but it didn't cover his whole body. He'd still need to be careful. Battle fury lent itself well to the inexperienced, weathering the storm of it was easy if one knew how. Still, it made for one hell of a rush.

He slowed to a careful walk as the footfalls continued past a turn. An ambush point designed itself perfectly. He counted down the seconds before they would be within striking distance. Lowering himself to a crouched sprinting position he raised his tomahawk and beskad in front of him. Three, two, one.

He moved with the pent up energy of a blaster bolt straight for the opposite wall. In his small glimpse of his enemies he could count about four, two humans, one trandoshan, and one zabrak. He reached the point on the floor he was searching for and sprang into the air towards the wall. It wasn't so much a jump as it was a slight hop as his back foot wheeled around to the front in order to brace and push off the wall. It was an amateur move intended to distract and disorient your opponent and usually he wouldn't have done it. But when it works it works. His left handed tomahawk came down hard into the neck of the human to his left. He could hear the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh as the blade sunk deep into the muscle tissue. Gravity helps sometimes.

Following through with the blow he actually landed on the man's chest and turned it into a forward roll that left the body at about an angle so that he would be able to dislodge his tomahawk that gave with a squelching sound. From there he rose to his feet in a spin with his right handed beskad in an arcing slash towards the trandoshans carotid artery. He was thankful human and trandoshan biology was similar enough for it to work. As was expected his slash was blocked by the trandoshan's hurried defense, nine parts blaster one part finger. Nicair followed through with the spin and sent the tomahawk smashing into the creature's abdomen, right through the weak metal plate. He wouldn't be able to retrieve it so easily this time and let the weapon go for now, it had done its job well.

From his crouched position he took a sidestepping motion towards the zabrak and shot his left leg up into the unarmored diaphragm. It landed with a dull smack as the zabrak's breath was forced out and he was actually lifted off his feet a few centimeters. The human had to be dealt with quickly, Nicair used his right leg's extension to bring him to his feet. The human was at an angle to his back which in any other situation would have meant death had Nicair not pivoted forward on his front left foot and lowered his head bringing his right hand around to slash at the man's knee. It connected, cutting through the quadricep tendon that kept the knee in place. He dropped like a stone, right onto it. Nicair shot two fingers into the man's clavicle notch crushing his trachea, a simple maneuver but effective. He fell clutching his throat.

The zabrak was just beginning to recover from the rib crushing kick and trying to get to his feet. Nicair's booted foot stopped him from doing so before resting on the creature's throat.

"Please, we're brothers! Vod!" Nicair scowled underneath his Mandalorian helmet and put the combined weight of his body and armor into the zabraks throat. The neck itself snapped. That takes care of that.

[member="Vuhan Chen"]

 

[Trin Halleck]

Showtime.

A quick blast from one of her Westars was all it took to bring the ventilation fan offline, and with a stomp the shaft grills easily came loose, falling down the chute and down onto the hall's mess below. Wasting no time, Trin's jump pack activated, lowering her down the ventilation shaft and into a steady hover just below Meridian's tall, cavernous ceiling. A quick thrust propelled her towards the 2nd floor balcony, from which gamblers, smugglers and courtesans were already running, nearly trampling each other in an effort to get away, As her duraplast combat boots touched the floor, a quick hiss from the back of her suit released the jetpack, which was now steaming in a frenzied fit. As it fell to the floor, Trin unslung her cycler rifle, and in no time leaned against the far side of one of the balcony's pillars. A quick load of the clip and one by one the casino hall's lights began to go out - each with a spark following the thump and pop of Trin's slugthrower. As Meridian Hall slowly grew dark, only [member="Tanya Thiran"]'s lightsaber and the occasional streak of blaster fire could be seen lighting up the vast room for milliseconds at a time.

Trin herself remained calm and quiet, kneeling and leaning against the column as she braced behind her cycler - popping solid rounds at targets she would mark in the blink of an eye. Tapping into her Ysanna instincts, she'd psychically guide each slug towards its target. Not even those fleeing in a hurry were safe. A few seconds into the frey, she could begin to single out the Serroco's - similarly uniformed gangmen huddled around a ridiculous excuse for a warbanner - a relic, as was their generation.

You could at least try.

Trin quickly dispatched one with a slight release of breath and a pull of the trigger, planting a slug in the man's shoulder and startling the others. Two of them quickly caught on to where the slugs were coming from, and with quick draws from their blaster pistols returned a staccato of suppressing fire up at Trin, who seemed to not even mind the beams as they flew past her. Two pops later and the two Mandalorians were dropped, and after pulling her trigger a third time, the old Mando' with the eyepatch went down, crippled and reeling in pain after taking one of her cycler rounds to the shoulder blade. As he went into shock and the remaining Serroco's formed a circle around him to protect him and try and effect an escape, Trin was just about to reload when she heard a few heavy footsteps from some distance behind her.

Turning around to see who it was, Trin quickly made out the silhouette of a fully armored Mandalorian. "Serroco?", she hissed as she rose to her feet and immediately tried to aim at the man - only to have her cycler rifle taken away from her by the former's grappliing cord.

"One of the many names I have, yes. Death is another. Yours in particular", he simply replied through his helmet's commlink as he threw the slugthrower aside, and then raising his hand, dropped his Westars onto the floor. "You think you're all that because you're a hotshot? Try and figure without your little toys and fight me."

Trin's pride got the better of her, and almost instantly she leaped at the Serroco, who quickly began exchanging blows with Trin in hand to hand combat.

[member="Vuhan Chen"] @Thraxis @Dexen Yash [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Zeraph"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

He wasn't in any particular hurry, a brisk walk was enough to get him where he needed to go most of the time. For the most part the other Serroco thugs were distracted by a Jedi, some were already in flight. If they were smart they'd be pressed on their heels trying to get away, their position was compromised by the other death teams that had been implemented in the location. Though, his former people, however old and branched off, looked down on retreat. The Mandalorians weren't what they used to be, maybe these old veterans would stand their ground.

He turned a corner after hearing conversation echo down the hallway. One of the voices was definitely through a helmet, Mandalorian in particular. The two figures he saw were engaged in close quarters combat, hand to hand. Nicair had to fight the urge to jump in, Mandalorians were brutal fighters, the particular style of Mandalorian wrestling and striking he had been taught was one to be respected. He closed the distance in a slow walk, yet stayed to the outside. No reason he should deprive either combatant of the rush of a good fist fight. The woman handled herself well, if a little recklessly, emotion was in the way. A dangerous tool. The man grew bored quickly, he wanted to play. He figured out how.

"Oya vod! Want some help?"

[member="Trin Halleck"] | [member="Thraxis"] | [member="Vuhan Chen"]