Access Denied

[Subject 37]

Bloc 3
Allies: [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Loray Tares"]
Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"] | @Sangria( [member="Sanguinaria"] ) | [member="Wes Rykker"]

As soon as the kick connected Slevin grinned, his lips thinning as he pushed the man back and then dropped to the floor.

He watched as the Mandalorian drew two blaster pistols, shining twin WESTAR's pulled from holsters. The Crime Lord perked an eyebrow, a thin grin flashing across his face as the man began to open fire. The first bolt struck him in the gut, the VT-Shark Skin plates scorching slightly as the blast struck him. The second, third, and rest of the bolt didn't hit him though, instead they struck a shimmering translucent orb that popped into being around him.

The VT-Bulwark erected in an instant, jumping into existence and protecting him from the brunt of the damage.

As the Mandalorian fired Slevin's hand once again drew up, the Grav-glove activating and then surging. This time he attempted to grasp onto the mans knee, pulling it forward and wrenching it towards him to send the man falling to his back. If that succeeded the Crime Lord would rush forward, attempt to kick the mans blasters away and smash his heel into his helmet to send his skull pounding into the ground.

 

[Kael Rose]

The man’s crew pushed forward as Kael himself took cover and focused on himself for a moment, attempting to filter toxins and fight the pain of the blaster bolt that seared into his chest. More than that, a child [member="Six-O"] had joined in the fray at some point behind him, running around shirtless with a rifle. He was pulling his weight too, and had that all-too familiar look on him. The streets had taught him how to live, how to feed himself, and this was how he did it. He’d probably be an absolute terror if he made it another ten years and kept learning what the street taught him.

The Atrisian man headed over and gave him a grenade. And then he talked about, as if Kael had never encountered a grenade before. Thing of it was though, they had been chucking grenades not too long ago which meant this thing was a little different. Kael was careful in how he pocked it, making sure it had room to breath. Deciding he’d had enough time on the sideline he raised his rifle and dashed into the fight, avoiding shots here and there. By now Onley’s crew had taken a few down, and Kael managed to find a rebreather. From there he laid out some fire, and got the feeling it was time to get behind cover once again.

The explosion from the Obsidian Nova Crystal was intense. He understood now why the man had taken care to talk to him about it. The cover that used to hold the Collective forces simply wasn’t anymore. Kael took a deep breath into the rebreather and stepped forward. It was time to go forward. The scorch marks from the Crystal ended at a blast door. Circuitry was knocked out. Blast door had quite a bit of damage, but was still stuck. Kael walked forward, ahead of the group, and pulled out Veronica, his modified San-Ni-Staff, and activated it. The power couplings weren’t quite as intense as a lightsaber, but they cut through the locks of the blast door easily enough. From there Kael and a few of Onley’s men slide it open about a meter wide, before they were greeting with immediate blasterfire.

The size and impact of the bolts implied turrets, and the varied trajectories and firing times implied multiple of them. Kael thought about the Obsidian Nova Crystal in his pocket, it would fry up a good portion of that room nicely. Then again, it would also damage the server, making significant rebuild work for the bosses. Kael decided against it for now, but kept it in mind just in case things got worse.

“I don’t feel any life, do you?” Kael asked [member="Onley Xiangu"]. He could pick out movement, buzzes here and there, but nothing alive. Droids probably, but how much? “I got two ion’s left, how many you got?”

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Bloc 3
Allies: [member="Wes Rykker"] [member="Sanguinaria"]
Enemies: [member="Slevin Thawne"]

Just one of his blasters made impact on the man, but the rest were misses. Some were because the man was lucky to miss, and the others were because a personal shield absorbed them. While the shield would seem to be a nuisance it wasn't for Vilaz as he had something to disrupt through personal shields and use it as a weapon. All of which was only good for close combat but should the shield were to protect the man from punches and kicks, then the Mandalorian would know what to do.

Again with the command of his hand the Munin found himself falling from his position and landing on the floor. His HUD then warned him of the attacker approaching him and raised his pistols which were kicked away.

However, no heel would come in contact with his face which would give him an opportunity to use something of his integrated weaponry. The Munin would punch without any intention of making contact of Slevin's crouch and attempted to send him flying away with his repulsor.

 

[Subject 37]

Bloc 3
Allies: [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Loray Tares"]
Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"] | @Sangria( [member="Sanguinaria"] ) | [member="Wes Rykker"]

Slevin practically bounced back, the rocket boots on his feet kicking off for just half a second.

A scowl pulled across his lips, but before he even touched the ground Slevin drew one of the blasters from the small of his back. His fingers wrapped around the handle, one pressing against the trigger and then quickly squeezing three times in quick succession.

He paid no attention to the environment around him.

He paid no mind to his allies arguments or the fact that Aver had already seized the facility. He did not pay attention to the HRD's flooding all around them, to the automated security failing The Collective. All that he wanted was for this Mandalorian to die.

Even though he'd already lost.

 

[Loray Tares]

​Bloc 3
​Allies: [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"]
​Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Sanguinaria"] | [member="Wes Rykker"]

Beneath his hands, more and more defenses fell. Not a single one worthy of his time, he expedited the process as the blade cut through silent air. Slashes severing limbs from those who stood before him, cuts destroying inadequate defensives systems. Turrets died their last breaths as they whirled, relieved of barrels or other critical components, spinning on fire with nothing left to give.

​A voice rang out in his ear as he stopped, a blaster bolt from a stray defense turret striking his shoulder. Metal moaned as he labored to turn his head, looking at the heat coming off the plates of blackened steel. Smoke always rose and within his mask, the smell of smoldering ash caught his breath.

​​Who is she to ask such...do I not deserve this?

She is everything...

​He crouched, striking both thoughts from his mind, as he stepped forward. The presence and magnitude of his aura poured out, a sickening flood of nausea and malice. For all to feel, friend and ally alike. The pressure emanated in a telekinetic sphere, crunching the hallway and corridor around him like a tin can.

​If he kept walking, kept trudging forward, he would find someone who had lost their way and found themselves upon his footpath. He fed off the hope of regret, regret for ever meeting him.

 

[Aver Brand]

Bloc 3
Bae 1&2: [member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Bae 2’s Murderbot: [member="Six-O"]
Sulky Nephew: [member="Onley Xiangu"]
Broody Niece’s Current Side Ho: [member="Xian Valart"]
Allies: [member="Helix Syndicate"] | [member="The Prince"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Kael Rose"]
Enemies: [member="Janeth Farr"] | [member="Sola Tymon"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Dyxra'a"] | [member="Delilah Keyes"] | [member="Mara Kellarov"]
Vicinity: [member="Sanguinaria"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Wes Rykker"]

With a sad hiccup and a blink, the electronic defenses fell. Long-distance slicing was one thing – but with direct access? Nothing held out for long.

Aver regarded the options splayed before her, and felt much like a god as she turned the Access into a trap for its defenders.

Godlike.

Her lips were drawn back in a sneer as she banished the unbidden swell of power at the base of her spine. It wasn’t hers to feel. Nor was it his.

Heading to bloc 4. Join me… or don’t.

The mercenary collected herself, pulling back in, leaving but the thinnest of threads connecting her to the man. If he wanted to destroy himself, she wouldn’t stay to watch. With one last glance down the corridor where the saber and its shadow wreaked havoc, Aver set to cleaning out the last of the vermin.

With the security working against the Collective – or what remained of it, now – it was only a matter of enjoying her dinner in an hour, or cutting it long for a midnight snack.

 

[Evoros]

LOCATION: Gorba's Palace
ALLIES: ;_;
ENEMIES: [member="Tytos Ardik"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"]

For a moment, she considered that the risk of going in wouldn't be worth the rewards.

Truthfully, Evoros liked the Collective. She approved of their vision. Of their methods. They paid her well. And she had established the level of respect through their ranks that meant so long as her track record stayed spotless she would keep on rising.

All of that, of course, only mattered so long as working for the Collective didn't get her killed.

She deliberately hadn't painted herself as a threat, because being any more a target than you had to be made something civil like negotiating so difficult, but it didn't take a genius to work out that the Helix Syndicate were a cynical lot. A toe out of line would have her dead. Failed negotiations would have her dead. Anything failing "I'm more useful to you while I'm alive" would have her dead. And starting from scratch was a price she'd gladly pay to avoid winding up dead.

But she had a few cards still left to deal.
And Evoros was certain of her ability to convince.

"With pleasure," the agent agreed. Evoros was certain they both knew how transparent the pretense of choice was, but she smiled anyway as the doors groaned open before her.

________​

​

"This is certainly more dignified," she commented, still evidently cheerful. "Shall we get right to it?"

A moment's pause to ensure he didn't have more to say, then the agent pressed on.

"Now, if the Collective and the Helix Syndicate were to establish good terms, we'd want to cement this friendship by moving past this fight, of course. And we would gladly cover the expenses of launching the attack in order to do so."

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

LOCATION: Outside Bloc 2
ALLIES: Droid Boyfriend [member="Six-O"] | Compact
ENEMIES: [member="The Slave"] | Collective NPC's

Her opponent went flying, narrowly avoiding the inferno behind him. Too bad. Already his powers were unbelievable - maybe a little extra pain would have helped him learn a bit better.

But then again, Matsu was a fanatic.

As he’d flown backwards she’d taken up movement, having no wish to drain herself by maintaining the illusion of invisibility but also not wanting to remain still should the sniper still lurk somewhere on the rooftops surrounding their altercation. Somewhere the Droid stalked closer to the fight. She could feel that without seeing, though he had no presence in the Force. It was a different sort of knowing, the way wild animals grew to work unseen by the other in practice.

It was, most likely, the movement and wariness that saved Matsu from any worse damage to her face than it had already sustained. Her opponent pulled the weapon quick - exceptionally rare, a pistol she’d seen maybe once or twice before in the field - and she sprinted for cover. There was no sound save for the quiet pop of the projectiles breaking the sound barrier. No, if she hadn’t already been moving she’d most assuredly have parted with her jaw once more. Regardless, the projectiles slammed in to the speeder wreck behind which she dove to escape the barrage. Pelting like hail against its side, she counted up to eleven before the last hit just the right spot to make a foot pedal shatter in to metal pieces. Her arms, plexisteel interlaced with phrik, were sufficient to withstand most of the shards created by the blast, but still fell victim to one of the sharper pieces as it sheared through the metal of her bicep. Hissing in pain as artificial nerve endings fried, she flexed the arm. Her fingers responded, barely - sluggish and wholly unreliable in a fight.

She’d felt the walls around the man’s mind - half-finished. Not fully Epicanthix. While his resistance would be greater she had the chance to crawl within. And so she skipped right over mentalism, leaving it for a day against a less equipped opponent. Instead she pulled again on her sorcery, a more powerful and less direct method of altering the mind.

Qazoi Kyantuska required no spoken word, no motion. It simply was. From those scraps Matsu had been able to salvage from the Plague’s decimation of the galaxy’s history, Sith Lords of old had been able to control entire armies. She wouldn’t presume to be so self-indulgent. But it was far more than a mentalist’s twinge that shot towards the Slave’s mind. Matsu pushed, impressing on him the importance of turning that shattergun up towards his own temple. It was easier to suggest less elaborate motions, more powerful to press the Force in to something uncomplicated.

Two short motions - raise your arm, pull the trigger.

 

[Onley Xiangu]

LOCATION: Bloc 2
ALLIES: [member="Kael Rose"] | [member="Six-O"] (Ultra)
ENEMIES: Collective NPC's

Behind them lay a trail of Compact bodies, some of Onley’s men strewn among their ranks though his had at least died in a way that might have found acceptable and not the turret fire others had become. And before them laid a room devastated by the Crystal, quiet sounds of computers shorting out and the falling of shards back to the earth as gravity settled them a quiet soundtrack punctured by explosions and shouting elsewhere within the Network Access at large.

Ultra-V of course, remained unscathed. He had a penchant for that which Onley supposed he should be grateful for.

As the aftermath of the Obisidan crystal faded, short volleys of blaster and rifle fire were traded across enemy lines as the Collective's survivors held off against the Compact. It was the work of perhaps a little under ten minutes, two dozen defenders holding out until they couldn't any longer. And then a final, momentary silence.

It wasn’t long behind his temporary partner-in-crime as the other man cut through the blaster door with an implement Onley wasn’t familiar with - more questions, all to be saved for another time as several of his mercenaries followed through behind the semi-stranger. Onley was barely through himself when turret fire lambasted their position. He saw two of his men fly backwards, flattened out of his vision as they were caught by laser fire. It was then, once more, that cover seemed pertinent. The Atrisian nodded in agreement at Kael’s assessment of whether or not there was life, filing away both that this man had some sort of connection to the Force and that it was accurate enough to pick through approximate Force signatures among chaos. Interesting. “Same,” he answered in regards to the ion charges, plucking one from his belt. “Same plan as before?”

He shifted slightly, getting ready to aim for the turrets that lined the left of the room. “I’m Onley, by the way. Just so I can stop thinking of me as ‘that guy over there’”. He grinned at his own humor before depressing the detonator on the grenade and lobbing it between volleys of heavy fire. One went down, the second behind it shorted slightly by the area in which the first charge operated. It took another throw before the left side was deactivated and the room went silent.

He didn’t emerge from cover immediately, listening to the steady cadence of Ultra-V’s constant lyricism, a habit which seemed to help him concentrate or something. Onley really couldn’t figure it out but he thought he liked it. But that was really the only sound.

Lifting tentatively from cover, Onley kept his blaster at the ready should his sense of the place fool him. Raising his hand, he signaled his men forward to surround the main Databank resting mostly unscathed in the center of the Bloc. The Collective had succeeded in evacuating most of its personnel, abandoning a strategic position that was obviously of less importance to them than their lives. No doubt they had made efforts to erase important information from the network, but that wasn’t Onley’s concern. He’d done his part.

It was then that he turned to Kael as other members of different compact factions filtered in to the room. Shifting his blaster to its holster at his waist, Onley held out a hand to shake Rose’s. “Nicely done,” he said, nodding in respect of their mutual accomplishment.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

NAR SHADDAA
GORBA THE HUTT’S PALACE

[member="Evoros"] | @Ar'ekk

The door creaked shut behind Evoros, though when she entered she would be greeted with the raised rifles of both Death Troopers. This? This was more dignified? Surely she didn't mean to negotiate from a doorway or with pointed weapons. Tytos certainly had no intentions of letting her. This was a palace filled with all sorts of rooms, he was not going to parley through an open door like some kind of dejected stepchild. It was beneath him. Besides, they were still in the "I suspect you are rigged to detonate and will do so at any moment" phase of their professional relationship. Tytos still had a lot more money to earn in this galaxy before he would let himself get turned into paste. Or ash, depending on the explosive used.

Happy thoughts.

"In a moment yes," Tytos said. "Search her."

A Death Trooper marched forward gun first and began the cursory search. It was not a gentle pat-down. Most of them weren't. The scanners in his helmet would have picked up any explosive devices or if she was some kind of shoddy human replica droid. A search like that was never a good start to negotiations, but it was as the ancient Ardik family motto went: "Better safe than exploded all over the karking walls." Something like that, anyway.

Once the Trooper was satisfied Evoros was unarmed (or disarmed) he said something in a garbled voice to Tytos, which the Umbaran seemed to understand. Somehow. And then Evoros offered to foot the bill of the assault. The corner of Tytos mouth twitched. Was that all? They could work on that. "A fair offer." He replied, "We do so enjoy our money here. Walk with me." There was a modest meeting room on the second floor. Tytos and his Death Troopers would lead her up the stairs towards it, weapons now mercifully lowered. Ar'ekk could follow if he wished.

"If you wish to be left in peace, we will require 5.9 billion standard galactic credits." Tytos was unsure of the armament and deployment costs of his colleagues, but it had cost a few million at the least to get all of his own soldiers and equipment into position. 300 million each would be appropriated for the Coratanni and Nadir for their invaluable service. 300 million would be split and proportioned off the various other contractors summoned here today. They had already been paid for their jobs. Then Gorba the Hutt, now miserably strapped for cash after all this chaos, would be given the lion's share. Two billion.

If that Hutt didn't stay afloat financially, Tytos would have to find a new one. Not an ordeal he wanted to deal with right now, frankly. Gorba could have some money.

That left three billion. Which was technically the lion's share, but since the Syndicate now had to spend it on repairing and refurbishing Network Access... It was money they would lose quickly, but at least the Collective would pay for it instead. Money had of course already been set aside, but now there wouldn't be need of it. He continued as they reached the top of the stairs, "I'm aware of your background as slicers as infochants. It's very... Novel, I suppose. Electronic cash pilfered from bank accounts won't be sufficient. You will be making these payments in precious materials. Nova crystals, gold, precious gems, aurodium, etcetera."

If the peace terms did not cripple your enemy financially or embroil them in a difficult situation, what was the point? Speaking of which.

"The artificial intelligence unit you installed in Network Access. I suspect it was removed before we arrived. In any event, you will make a copy of it and turn it over to the Syndicate. To this end, when we are done here, some of our more veteran technicians will accompany you to your new headquarters to collect it."

They arrived at the doors of the meeting room, which slid open at their approach. A place for the Hutt's lieutenants to squabble with one another as they debated how best to enact his wishes. You could tell because there was a hole in the table where someone had stabbed a vibroknife, plus the faded remnants of scorchmarks on the wall. Charming. "After you. Make yourself comfortable anywhere."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Network Access
Bloc 2

Friends │ Collective & [member="Mara Kellarov"]
Foes │ Compact & [member=Six-O] , [member="Onley Xiangu"] , [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] , [member="Kael Rose"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Equipment │ Sword - Pistol 1 - Pistol 2 - Necklace - Armor


The thought of suicide, the upturn of a barrel and the ending of a life.

Forced by a mixture of epicanthix and self depreciating thoughts, the mental assault she turned on him seemed to blend into every suicidal imagination he had. If it weren’t for the slight metaphysical pressure on his psyche, he likely wouldn’t have even noticed her attempts to do so; which was saying something of the poor child. With mind already flooded by downtrodden machinations, he continued onward like a juggernaut hell bent on war.

A shame, considering just how potent of a force user she actually was. With the more sensitive pieces of his mind seemingly reinforced by his heritage, idle mental struggles were not in her favor.

The Slave however, pressing through her invisible onslaught, moved to press his own advantage; just as she had been doing so in her own regard. Knowing full and well off of just the beginning two strikes that he couldn’t compare to her through the force alone, his only option was to close the distance and force her to bear witness to his martial prowess. To her, he was nothing more than the rusted butter knife laid prostrate next to the mighty axe, a contrasting display of power, even if she didn’t consider it as he did.

With feet pressed into action, each footfall accelerated by the force’s own energy, he sprinted down the hallway in short time; hoping to not only cover the distance between them in a matter of a few seconds, but to also let loose another dozen rounds from the sidearm he carried. Although not meant to actually hit her, not that he wasn’t trying, each had the purpose of keeping her distracted, her focus somewhere else and his movements a little more slow and careful. Something to offer him a chance.

Should nothing manage to stop him, the first rational he would have upon closing the distance would be to single arm swing the massive alchemized blade he held down upon the Sith Lord, a strike harboring a deep seeded pleasure in battle with each tendon stretched tight to bring the fulcrum towards her form. It was a simple strike, but even if it missed it would prove the power he held with the total force of a small hovercraft coming crashing into the earth wherever the tip of the sword would land.

 

[Kael Rose]

Location: Bloc 2
Allies: [member="Onley Xiangu"]
Objective: Capture, small talk?

Kael nodded as Onley confirmed the plan, but the man hovered an extra moment. Turning a bit to more formally address Kael the man introduced his name, and Kael put up a small grin.

"Name's Kael." Rose responded, before Onley pressed the button on one of his ion grenades and let them loose. Kael swiveled himself, providing some cover fire before lobbing another grenade at a separate emplacement. There was a satisfying crackle of ion energy, In short order the automated defenses were down, and the Sith to his right had signaled his men to secure the server. Kael hung back for a minute, waiting to fire a shot at any movement that looked like it was waiting for the Atrisian's crew. Nothing came, so Kael signaled an All-Clear and the slicing and data retrieval crews poured in a few minutes later.

"Thanks." Kael responded to Onley's compliment. "You're not so bad yourself. That crew of yours is professional." The way Kael said that last word carried weight. Some mercenaries were professional. Some mercenary crews had professionals in them. You hoped a good bit of them. But a crew of professionals and a professional crew were two very different things. "What enticed you to bring them along to a little job like this?" Kael asked, probing just a bit. He knew there was more here than a simple gang war, but typically one had to figure real things out in a roundabout fashion if he wanted to keep his skin.