Access Denied

[Azimuth Industries]

Chapter One

The Loyal Servant​

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BLOC ONE

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Brutus cocked his weapon, slung it over a shoulder, then rappelled down from the skiff to join the others. The EMP burst was truly a stroke of tactical genius. No doubt Gorba's plan. Brutus couldn't believe that any of the other crime lords could come up with such a simple, but effective scheme.

Mercenaries were everywhere. [member="Koda Fett"]'s jetpack roared overhead. Occasional shots rang out, the opening parleys.

Brutus closed his eyes and imagined what it would feel like to be struck by a bolt of plasma. No doubt it would be painful. Awful. But dying in the service of Gorba? He would enter the annals of the Klatooinian heroes, like his brothers and his father.

The Klatooinin majordomo walked toward the sound of blasterfire, and the entrance to the Bloc 2 tunnel.

For how could a mutt die better than facing hacker nuts, for the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Hutts?

Collective:
[member="Faceless"]

The General​

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BLOC TWO

Bareesh Kajidic retainers rappelled down from skiffs and repulsorlift platforms hovering above the access to bloc two. Vodrans. Niktos. Klatooinians. All bound by a millennia old treaty to serve the Hutts. Their cultures steeped in slavish worship to them as gods. Ants. Worms. Maggots.

If they wanted to spill out their guts for the glory of the kajidic, Grothma would see they got every chance.

The enormous Cragmoloid stood upon a large skiff hovering around the staging point.

"Maggots," he quaked, unfurling the shock whip from his belt. He cracked it overhead. Many instinctively flinched.

Oh, how joyous to wield the whip and summon the fear, than to feel the lash's sting. The hundred scars upon his back burned at the memory. Suffering. Today would see much suffering. The pachyderm's trunk trembled with anticipation. Yet, he competed in the bloodshed with these, these Heralds as they called themselves. Pah. Led by some flapping half-thawed Toydarian who didn't even have the guts to be present at the front.

Bah. He could wait no longer.

"Where is my axe?"

"Here, General," a Vodran whined, trying to pick the massive therm-ax up off the ground, swaying wildly, and nearly tripping over the side of the skiff.

"Give it here before you hurt yourself."

Armed with axe and whip, the Cragmoloid bent his feet then leaped off the side of the skiff. He dropped several meters and his landing came like a thunderclap.

The rabble stood just outside the tunnel into Bloc One, fear etched on their faces. What were they standing around for? Hadn't he told them to go?

"Charge, you worms."

"But General, the defense grid-"

The therm-ax's edge glowed white-hot. "The last one standing here by the time I reach the count of three, I'll gut myself."

Eyes widened. They started shuffling toward the tunnel.

"ONE!"

Nervous shambling turned into a run, turned into a charge. Vibroswords and blasters raised, they swarmed into the defense grid's maw with wild abandon to the chut-chut-chut of the system's still operable turrets. Screams of the dying could barely be heard as the turrets reached tone. Streams of plasma bolts bathed the tunnel in vicious red light. The bodies began to pile up, heavy lancets easily bursting through the light armor padding the retainers wore. The stench of burning meat and hair arose, along with the subtle hiss of superheated flesh.

It was glorious.

Grothma waded in among them, his eyes brimming with delighted fury.

The retainers continued to flood in despite the horrific rate of attrition, more afraid of what stood behind them than what lay in front. The Collective didn't have any Cragmoloids with therm-axes, you see.

Belting the axe at his belt, Grothma ripped a bandolier of ion grenades from the body of a dead Nikto. He tried to activate the grenades, but his massive fingers fumbled with the tiny controls. Trumpeting his frustration, he turned around, looking for someone with small, feeble hands.

Blaster bolts whipped about him, but he seemed oblivious

"You, Herald," he pointed at one of the worthless mercenaries. A human of some sort. [member="Kael Rose"]. "We must take out those turrets. Activate these with your tiny fingers."

He offered the bandolier of ion grenades to the human.

Collective:
[member="Janeth Farr"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

NAR SHADDAA
BAREESH KAJIDIC PALACE

The Hutt rolled his one good eye. "Keel-ee calleya ku kah."

What was the worst that could happen? More structural damage? Still, the Umbaran made a fair point. Gorba did not enjoy the idea of footing the bill for more reconstruction costs just because of some last ditch attempt to assassinate him.

"Very well," he waved a dismissive hand, then turned his attention to the tactical display. The violence had only begun, but already the bodies lay thick. Mostly the bodies of his own retainers. No matter. He had reserves.

"Captain," he looked at the Blackblade advisor, "Do you think they will try to run?"

[member="Kaine's NPCs"] | [member="Tytos Ardik"]

* * *

Outside the palace gate, a spherical eyeball popped out and stared at @Evoros.

"Hi chuba da naga?" It asked in a synthesized voice.

 

[Subject 37]

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

His allies arrived, landing on the platform without so much as a hello.

Slevin could respect that.

They weren't here to be friends, they weren't buddies, and after this was done they were most certainly not going out together to enjoy a nice hit of spice. This was business. This was part of the agreement that they had signed. Someone had gone after Gorba, someone had struck at the heart of his palace and now they were taking revenge for that. The entire situation was really that simple. None of them particularly liked one another, in fact he wanted to kill Gorba himself, but they had made a deal, and not honoring it meant the others would fall upon the one.

It was that simple.

Slevin watched the other two for a moment, then returned to regard the Coratanni Synthetic Enforcers in their work. They had quickly gone about following his orders, destroying all the cameras in the area and setting explosives along the side of the Ray Shield's perimeter. The shield was somewhat of annoyance, difficult to break through and near impossible to disable just by striking it repeatedly with small arms fire. The shields projectors however were another story.

A solid knock against them, a powerful blast to misalign or disable a few? That was easy enough. So the Human Replic Droids that Sleivn had brought quickly set about placing explosive charged all along the side of the doorway, not bothering with even attempting to blow down the shield itself. After a few moments Slevin began to take a few steps back, not bothering to warn his allies. They'd either be smart enough to step away from the blast or he'd have far less competition in the drug trade.

Without a moment of hesitation Slevin pulled out the detonator, then pressed it down.

There was a loud blast, the explosion wrapping the landing pad in a loud boom. The shockwave struck him, the odd creature digging into his skin shifting slightly as it did so. He frowned, waiting for a moment as the smoke cleared. The shield above the doorway flickered for a moment, the metal housing it had lain within completely warped and destroyed. A moment later it ceased to function. "Go."

He waved towards the CRE's, eager to get the killing started.

Without a second of hesitation the Human Replica Droids rushed forward into the facility, blaster rifles raised.

 

[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="Kaine's NPCs"] | [member="Kael Rose"]
Enemies: [member="Janeth Farr"] | [member="Sola Tymon"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Dyxra'a"] | [member="Delilah Keyes"] | [member="Mara Kellarov"]
Engaging (forgot the ring at home, though): [member="Sanguinaria"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Wes Rykker"]

Anyone with half a lick of battlefield experience knew to get away from explosives. Hell, anyone with half a lick of common sense knew that.

Aver didn’t need to retreat much, having landed behind the Coratanni forces anyway. As the HRDs were setting the last charges, the merc was availing herself of the small armory she carried on her person. She’d done a weapons check on the flight over already – this was simply a matter of choice.

Some of it was mood. Most of it was practicality.

The shield blew out. Aver watched the droids pour inside, weighing between the Hand cannon and the Havoc gun. What were the odds of Forcers with glowsticks running around with a bunch of hacker kids?

With a grin, she holstered the cannon and slung the blaster rifle from her back. Down down down they went, following the smoldering emplacements of auto-turrets and the cracked lenses of security cameras. Effective bunch, these HRDs.

The Equalizers weren’t far behind when the facility opened up into a wider corridor. Well, used to be wider. Makeshift cover was throttling up the passage, and Aver could sense a bunch of specks in the Force hunkered down behind it.

Excellent.

As the Coratanni army flooded the chokepoint, the merc calmly switched her VF to live camo, slinking through the troops with a surprisingly light step. With the HRDs laying down covering fire, Aver had – from a combat perspective – all the time in the world to cook a frag grenade to a fine al dente and fling it at where the enemy was hiding.

Time to smoke out the rats.

Or smear them over the walls. Really, she wasn’t picky.

Aver grinned and chucked the cooked explosive at cowering foe.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

The Blackblade Commander hadn't gotten more than halfway across the chamber when Gorba rescinded his previous order, and Calixtus was forced to turn back on his heels and reassume his position next to the Hutt. He had barely managed to suppress a glare of annoyance before facing Gorba, his battle-pocked face a shield of impassivity once again.

The Hutt posed a question to Calixtus, and it was an interesting one from a strategic standpoint. The Commander allowed himself a moment or two to consider his response, "In the face of a numerically superior enemy, it seems to reason that the Collective would fall back into the bowels of the city and turn this slaughter into a war of attrition. Given that possibility, I would estimate that the battle could last for weeks, maybe even months, if they're allowed to spread themselves far and wide while maintaining successful guerilla attacks."

The Commander looked to the tactical monitor and observed the mounting dead, not only that of the Collective, but of the Compact as well. "Deprive them of an avenue of retreat, Mighty Gorba, and they will have no choice but to brave the meatgrinder or suffer annihilation."

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Tytos Ardik"] | [member="Evoros"]​

 

[Kellyn Muir]

His origins with the Collective were inexplicable, yet here he was. He deplored conflict and it was right on their doorstep, yet here he was. He barely knew those he stood aside, yet here he was. He was familiar with Nar Shaddaa. Though his upbringing was cushier than most, he did his time on the mean streets. Nar Shaddaa, Axxila, Wukkar, he'd had his share. His cunning had even opened up some remarkable doors, though he was almost certain his noble blood had something to do with it. Nonetheless, he held the keys to Marblewood Estate and was the de facto Scion of Iltarr City. That didn't happen by chance.

Now, however, there was a different challenge at his doorstep. Network Access was under imminent attack from a rival organization, only a little more lawless than the Collective. Whatever the circumstances of his membership, those within Network Access were his people now, and it was his duty to at least make an effort to defend their headquarters. As a pseudo-pacifist, he deplored violence, but he understood the necessity of it under certain circumstances. This was one of them.

The Slave I was docked on a rooftop of one of Nar Shaddaa's many skyrise buildings. It'd be difficult to track him down, given the planet's almost unending darkness. The light pollution from the thousands on thousands of neon lights below made it all the more difficult to spot the ship, at least visually. If that didn't take care of it, he had additional countermeasures in place - the Stygium cloaking device aboard would certainly help mask his presence.

He'd removed the holding area in favor of a rather expensive computer terminal. It served as his mobile operations center, operable from anywhere, which made him that much more difficult to track. As he typed away, holographic screens filled in front of him, showing him numerous camera feeds in real time. The resolution was noticeably worse, despite Jest's efforts to remotely improve the quality. He hoped it wouldn't drastically affect his ability to determine friend from foe.

He opened an encrypted line of communication with the Collective's AI - Xira. "Patch me in."

She'd know what he required, or at least where he'd be best suited to aid her in her ongoing defensive measures and fortifications.

[member="Janeth Farr"] et al.​

 

[Janeth Farr]

NAR SHADDAA
Network Access

Jest was one of the many slicers who had now found employ with the Collective, and all of them he was very unusual. His tendencies to avoid a violent course of action were known, and yet here he was defending their cause. A cause he had only recently became acquainted with. Xira of all found him most curious.

Without a single answer or acknowledgement, she granted his one wish. Jest was now connected into the mainframe and could now assist them to the best of his ability. With other slicers already pooling their own efforts together, Xira's capabilities were more refined now than when the battle began. Her control over the local systems were seamless, and the technicians--deep inside and away from harm--were hard at work to restore connection to the outside. Surely elsewhere throughout the city others were doing the same. The effects of the EMP were not going to last forever.

For now though the artificial intelligence would rely on the number of slicers now connected directly into her system. She observed their actions, calculated their next steps, and began to run simulations of the battle to come. Crafted scenarios transformed into subtle adjustments to the defense grid. As the battle raged on the automated defenses grew only more efficient.

[member="Jest de Rous"]

 

[Loray Tares]

Bloc 3

Allies: [member="Aver Brand"], [member="Slevin Thawne"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
Enemies: [member="Vilaz Munin"], [member="Sanguinaria"], [member="Wes Rykker"]

It would have been smart to remove himself from the proximity of the explosion, perhaps even pragmatic. Adorned with a sense of self preservation, any sane person would take a step back. But as the Droids moved to place the explosions, Loray simply stood in the explosive arc, fingers curling over the collar of his chest armor.

The explosion sent debris outward, engulfing the area in smoke and particulates. Pieces of security measure whizzed by him as other pieces deflected off the translucent shield that blinked into existence, just moments prior.

Watching, as the smoke cleared, the Droids and his ally and companion moved towards the facility. Kicking through the remains of what was left of the defenses, he withdrew a lengthy piece of rebar adhered to a sizeable chunk of duracrete. The forced curled out from him, tracing over the ad hoc weapon, varnishing it in crackling and molten black. The weapon became immersed in the force as he strolled into facility.

Dragging the weapon across the ground, he moved past Aver who was taking cover. Defensive measures lit the interior up with bolts of fire, flinging past him through the air above. Some managed to make contact, dispersing against the plating of his armor, singing it and painting the blue tones with heat bands of violet and orange.

Lifting the item like a warhammer, held at chest height, he called the CERS and force speed to his aid, as he charged in a blur of speed.

His aim was the first defensive emplacement, putting them in swinging range of his hammer and him out of range from the lobbed grenade. After all, he was crazy. Not stupid.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

LOCATION: Bloc 2 Entrance
ALLIES AT LOCATION: Dear Old Son [member="Onley Xiangu"] | Droid Boyfriend [member="Six-O"] | The General ([member="Bareesh Kajidic"]) | [member="Kael Rose"]
ALLIES ELSEWHERE: [member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Aver Brand"]
ENEMIES: [member="Janeth Farr"] | [member="Mara Kellarov"] | Collective NPC Forces

The most armor Matsu ever really wore was light armorweave fabrics, something that allowed her to maintain her advantage of moving quick and light. Of course, there were those who chose to cover themselves head-to-toe, and that was their prerogative. Even Matsu had a set of Phrik armor, but it found itself growing dusty in its case more often than not.

Still, life gave her reasons to consider it sometimes.
The wet, grotesque ‘POP!’ of the mercenary’s head standing next to her was a good example.

A rifle bolt tore through skull and viscera next to her, dropping the man she’d been speaking with as they approached the building. Already others had started to flow in to the entrance, absorbing turret fire at the behest of a horrifying Cragmoloid. It wasn’t every day you saw one of those, so Matsu did not have a hard time fathoming the abandon with which its people did as they were told. She’d been formulating a way to incorporate with his people when one of the mercenaries she’d contracted was nearly decapitated in front of her.

“Onley!” she shouted, already holding her hands close together in front of her abdomen as she spoke the words for Sutta Chwituskak inside her mind. “You’re up.” One sniper outside the building was only a temporary problem - but one that could cause issues if left unattended.

There was very little cover in the streets, and so Matsu didn’t have time to either find something to shield herself or to allow the sniper to set up for another shot. So instead she turned on a dime, releasing the spear she’d grown and letting it fly in the direction the bolt had come from. Without a direct line of sight her aim would undoubtedly be off, but hopefully the assailant had been on the rooftop that crumbled beneath the shot of dark-side energy. Bricks and mortar exploded outwards and crumbled down, hopefully sending their attacker-from-above plummeting to the ground.

_______________​

Nodding to his Mother, the men who she’d contracted directly folded in with his. Onley’s band was more personal, people he worked with over and over as he further entrenched himself in Maena’s underworld. Trust was a commodity just as much as everything else, and while credits and grudging respect held the new hires in line, the rest knew Onley well enough to know there was glory and success and something much worse in failure. They were not an enormous group, even combined. But these hallways would be narrow, and the target was not huge. It was a waste of resources to throw everything at it.

They just brought nice things with them.

Moving closer to the group already flaring out around the entrance to push in to Bloc 2, his men moved to integrate while Onley pushed closer to the Cragmoloid and a seemingly important man as the alien was handing him ion grenades.

Perfect.

“I can aim for the left side if you aim for the right,” Onley said, interjecting himself in to the conversation. Most ion grenades only had a blast radius of 3 meters, and there were lots of defenses in there. They’d come down quicker if they were working as a team to eliminate everything at once to activate the grenades with their tiny fingers.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

NAR SHADDAA
GORBA THE HUTT’S PALACE

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Kaine's NPCs"]

"Bah! If you ask me," said Clelon, flapping irritably around the holotable and perfectly aware no one had asked him, "They will run. These sorts, they always do. Look here!"

The labyrinthine map of the area surrounding the Network Access district had five lines lit up to indicate entrance points. One of them was highlighted red and denoted by a winding, thin line. The secret passage through the mainframe maintenance area. Already being exploited by a Twi'lek pirate and some Mandalorian mercenaries. The best kind of pirate, the best kind of mercenaries, if you asked Clelon. The posh Toydarian gestured whimsically to the holographic map projected on the table. "We only found one of these, eh, secret entrances. I bet there are more, and that they plan to escape through them!"

They wouldn't be trying to escape through the Bloc 4 entrance, which had not come under assault yet. The Hell's Heralds and Screamin' Demons waited for their signal outside that district.

"Our reconnaissance people, they said there are anywhere between two hundred and four hundred soldiers hunkering down in the district we attack. Collective is small! Like a tiny little baby. This must be the bulk of their forces, and they will not be wasting them for this siege if they can withdraw. They are in need of their soldiers. Ours, well, these are people who can be, eh... Replaced. Easily. Besides, this is city district. Who knows of their supplies? They may not have enough to survive for a week, much less several. And for what? Extra body count for them is no big inconvenience to us, heh heh."

 

[Kael Rose]

Nar Shadda
​Bloc 2 Entrance
​Nade'n Turrets
​Close Enemies: ?
​Closer Friends: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] and her posse [member="Bareesh Kajidic"]
​Long Distance Relationships: [member="Tytos Ardik"] [member="Gorba the Hutt"] [member="Aver Brand"] [member="Loray Tares"] [member="Slevin Thawne"] [member="The Prince"] [member="Xian Valart"] [member="Kaine's NPCs"] @Others
​Poor Long Distance Relationships:[member="Janeth Farr"] [member="Mara Kellarov"] [member="Jest de Rous"] @Others

The onslaught was surprisingly tactical, at least on Kael's end. These Mercs, the Hell's Heralds and the Screamin Demons, had a rough plan of sorts. Enough to where people had an idea what to do, but not so much detail that people got lost when things didn't go as planned. Kael followed along, providing support as new alleyways were claimed and rushing forward as he was supported. It was rather routine in a way, but it didn't take long for things to get exciting.

​THOMP! THOMP!​

There was an echo as the weight of footsteps, very large footsteps, came from behind him. The creature oozed a primal bloodlust, while the men in front of him oozed terror. The grunts were Vodran or Klaatooine. Slave races who had been slaves so long they didn't understand it anymore. Stok'olme's wasn't a psychological state for them, it was instinct, built into their DNA and culture. An investment the Hutts could thank their ancestors for going generations back. If a Hutt could set aside his pride that is.

"You, Herald!" The deep voice of the Cragmaloid behind him screamed, and Kael knew exactly who he was talking to.

"General?" Kael responded, not bothering to turn his head, instead keeping it where he needed to fire, taking shots as necessary.

"We must take out those turrets. Activate these with your tiny fingers." The Cragmaloid continued, and Kael lowered his rifle over his cover and extended an open hand. The Cragmaloid tossed a leather strap, which Kael figured was size enough for a human bandoleer. Or perhaps this was the Cragmaloid cultural equivalent of a friendship bracelet. Very forward that General Grothma.

"Roger." Kael replied, putting snarky responses out of his head before another came. Kael still didn't see him, Teepo Paladins were funny that way, but he could feel him alright. Sniff him out in the Force. He smelled like death, but of a different kind. Not like General Grothma, the Vodran, or even Kael himself. This scent was rotten, decaying, something else.

“I can aim for the left side if you aim for the right,” ​The man said, and Kael turned his head at him and held for a second, as if to look him over. He could tell this man was no grunt. As long as they had the same job he could probably be trusted, at least to do the job. Kael took the second hand of his rifle and pulled out a knife, then cut the bandoleer in half before tossing it to the man.

​"Deal. Let's move." Kael said, and promptly picked up his rifle and got to moving. There were better times to talk than in the middle of an op, and Kael would be lying if he said the man didn't make him the slightest bit uncomfortable. Couldn't quite place it though. Kael sighed as he blasted another Collective drone and found a truck to get behind.

The turret ahead was vehicle grade, which mean you needed thicker cover to get through. Also meant a group of mercs could be downed in one shot. Kael listened closely for a while, before finding a pattern. The turret took six shots in the course of about ten seconds, then took two seconds to cool before unloading another salvo. Nothing too bad. Kael waited for the opportune moment, before pushing the button and lobbing the grenade. It detonated a couple meters left of the machine, but it was down. Cheers could be heard from the mercs and slaves, while Grothma's lieutenants ordered sections of the Bareesh Retainers to seize the emplacement.

​Taking down these turrets wasn't too bad, but who knew what resistance they'd meet at the server? Kael gave it a passing thought, then went back into the moment, raising his rifle and charging to the next available space of cover as General Grothma drew the enemies fire. It was awfully difficult not to shoot at a charging Cragmaloid after all.

 

[Ugoto Chivaro]

NAR SHADDAA
GORBA THE HUTT’S PALACE

[member="Gorba the Hutt"] | [member="Kaine's NPCs"] | [member="Evoros"]

Tytos had no comment to make one way or another on what he suspected the Collective's tactics to be. As one could tell by his meticulously trimmed facial hair and posh, aloof demeanor, he knew very little of military stratagem. Sure, he had a hand in drawing up the assault plans... But what were the assault plans? Some people charge, some people wait to charge. The Equalizers go here, the mercenaries go through there, the Hutt auxiliaries cram the hallways with their bloated corpses there. This was hardly the most byzantine battle plan drawn up, and even then Tytos had relied heavily on the counsel of Clelon and several others. Better to leave the real strategizing to the people who did it for a living.

While Clelon prattled on, Tytos found himself looking at the viewscreen displaying the goings-on outside of the palace. The emissary was still there, now being verbally berated by the gatekeeper droid. Not a pleasant experience, he wagered. Less so when surrounded by a bunch of Gorba's thugs. What was with these people? Were they really so fanatically loyal to whatever shadowy simpleton led the Collective that they were all willing to traipse into the jaws of the lion? To her credit, the emissary seemed composed. Janeth had seemed composed as well. And her composure got her hung up on the wall as crude Hutt ornamentation. Did these people learn nothing? Something foul was afoot. Either that or the Collective was desperate to surrender.

Whatever the case, Tytos intended to be the one to hear it. Not some eye-in-the-wall droid. "I think I'll go speak to that emissary. I suspect they want to surrender... What little good it will do them now." Tytos left promptly, followed by his Death Troopers. "You have the command, Clelon."

A brief walk later, Tytos and his escort found themselves in the foyer. Several servants and guards were clustered in the center, staring up at another viewscreen. It was projecting what the gatekeeper droid was witnessing, and presently the emissary dominated the screen. One could also see the band of thugs standing behind her. What a nice lady. Tytos shooed Gorba's people back to their duty, approached a section of the wall next to the door, and depressed a button on the intercom. Outside, the Umbaran's voice filtered through. Flat and tinged with annoyance.

"This is Tytos Ardik. Who are you, exactly, and what is it you want?"

 

[Arekk]

NAR SHADDAA​

Bareesh Kajidic Pleasure Palaces​

​

It was certain that letting an emissary of the Collective entering the premises once again with the idea of having the palace destroyed wasn't a very smart idea as the enemy could disrupt the command center, provoke immense damages to the venue or simply assassinate the Hutt himself. Regardless, Ar'ekk stood as one of Gorba's personal guards in case anyone tried to lurk beneath the shadows and strike him down with ease. Who would've thought a Jedi could be part of such operation considering they're law-abiding individuals? He wasn't stupid, money and power attracted anyone and Ar'ekk liked to play near the limit of things. It was something he had earned in the battlefield, years ago. Sacrifices made without expecting something in exchange only to be forgotten and left to rot.

The Hutt made contact with the Collective member standing outside the palace. Ar'ekk touched Ardik's shoulder when he mentioned that they'd go make contact with this person and said:

"I'll come with you, I sense something."

It was pretty clear that the young Jedi warrior always followed his guts and this time it was no different, there was something that the Force was trying to tell him although quite unclear. The Death Troopers and the crime lord himself could use the assistance of a Force User in case everything went south, a probable trap concealed behind intentions of surrendering.

Ar'ekk stood besides Tytos as he communicated with the Collective individual through the intercom, hearing their exchange with complete attention, a hand already near his lightsaber hilt just in case.

The Compact, Bareesh Kajidic & Underworld Allies:
[member="Teroch Werda"] | [member="Gorba The Hutt"] | [member="Nor'baal Durga Bareesh"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Koda Fett"] | [member="Aver Brand"] | [member="Slevin Thawne"] | [member="Thrukk Gulpdar"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Natalia Thawne"] | [member="Xian Valart"] | [member="Ji Powak"] | [member="Okh-Verg"] | [member="Tytos Ardik"]

Enemies:
[member="Janeth Farr"] | The Collective

 

[Delilah Keyes]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raUCnM9Tifc[/media]​

The best thing he could have done for her was throw that sword. Dropping the carbine, the gun swung around on its strap as Delilah moved.

For such a big guy, the twi'lek was fast. But he'd just given up his main advantage for the hope of momentarily catching her off guard. Shifting knees and hips, Del dropped, ducking the rotating blade as it went flying through the air where she'd been standing a moment ago. With flickering lights and long shadows, plus the strength of that throw? That blade was out of the fight for now. Finding it again would be a matter of time to search or sheer dumb luck, and Del wasn't planning on giving him the former.

The later, well, that she couldn't control so she didn't bother to worry about that.

Planting her hands on the floor, she swept a leg toward his ankles. The speed he was coming in with, the forward momentum, she hoped to send him into a heap if she could. Low to the ground, she fully intended to use his size against him if she could.

Of course, it was easy to make a mistake in the dark. And Delilah didn't realize that the blade he'd thrown wasn't his main. Too dark, too fast.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Nar Shaddaa
Bareesh Kajidic Palace

[member="Kaine's NPCs"] | [member="Helix Syndicate"]

The image of this Collective, as they called it, tucking tail and scampering away pleased Gorba. It was only good and right that his enemies fear him. Otherwise what was the point of all these mercenaries he paid? Wiping out the Collective and taking the Network Access would be a victory, sure, but in the grand scheme of things they were a small threat. A threat he played up to help form the Compact. A threat he would continue to play up to keep taking bites from the territory of other players on Nar Shaddaa. He could see it acted out in his head like a Rodian theater. Accusations that a gang was in league with the Collective. The falling hammer of the Compact's authority. The division and redistribution of that territory to the lords of the Underworld.

All so perfect.

He supposed he should thank the Collective for providing him with the opportunity. Gorba's gaze flicked up to the wall where Janeth Farr hung.

But what would be the point of that?

"Hmph. Grancha. La noa-a bargon cay. Mah camai hatkocanh woy wa naa."
«Very good. They will be dealt with. My people will make a call.»

[member="Tytos Ardik"] said something about seeing to the emissary and [member="Ar'ekk"] accompanied him. Good. The Jeedai could keep an eye on the Umbaran. And vice versa. Gorba happily remained seated.

Moving was such a chore.

 

[Mara Kellarov]

Location: Nar Shaddaa, Network Access, Bloc 2 (Atop the nearby rooftops)
Allies: The Collective & NPCs - [member="The Slave"]
Enemies: The Compact & NPCs - [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Six-O"] | [member="Onley Xiangu"] | [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] | [member="Kael Rose"]

Mara had already begun to move her arse the moment she had fired the shot. Even when dealing with regular soldiers, or just in general non-force users, it was never a smart idea for a sniper to remain in one position. Shifting around the immediate area was only fine for so long, but eventually it was impossible to remain without immediately being beset upon by the enemy.

And that didn't even account for when you were facing against someone like Matsu Xiangu.

A Sith...a karking bloody Sith!

Of all the things Mara had expected to be fighting today, going against Sith wasn't one of them. And she had a very solid suspicion that there was more of their number present. It was at times like these she agent wished she had the ability to sense them, or whatever it was Forcers were capable of.

By the time Matsu's attack had struck the rooftop, Mara had managed to jump to the adjacent one, managing a precise roll as she hit the floor. Mara was a planner, she made it a point to always plan things out ahead of time, and this was no exception. She had gone about exploring Bloc Two's neighbouring buildings prior to the assault, working out a viable movement pattern for when things got heated.

Albeit, she never anticipated the possibility of said rooftops getting blown to bits.

Once she was back to her feet, Mara didn't miss a beat as she moved towards the edge once more, this time not bothering to go prone and instead remained crouched. Through her scope she examined the situation, noticing that Onley and his group had moved up to join in the assault with Bareesh and Kael on the Bloc's entrance. Mara saw two options before her; either focus on the defences as much as she could, or focus on the power house that was presently hanging back for now.

Somewhere in Mara's mind, she knew she was probably making a mistake.

Turning her attention back to Matsu, the agent fired another bolt in her direction. This time it wasn't aimed at one of the nearby grunts, but instead for the Atrisian herself. The bolt zipped past her hair, it was effectively a taunt. Mara's full attention was on her now, just waiting for the Sith Lord to budge an inch in retaliation, the moment she did another bolt would be fired her way.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Delilah Keyes"]

The darkness went both sides.

Contrary to his crew mates Xian didn't enjoy decking himself out in two dozen different armor parts and then shoving his head into a helmet. This afforded him mobility, but it also denied him some of the high-tech capabilities they had at their disposal. For instance light-filtering that would have enabled him to see her leg swipe.

He didn't.

But by that point in time the Twi'lek was already sweeping down with the flat-side of his blast sword. The weight and momentum behind it enough to knock someone unconscious, shatter bone or similar acts of strength, but that same momentum got used against him when a leg swiped against his ankle in his step.

Momentum carried over and Xian practically flew over the smaller woman.

Preserve your weapon, cover your head.

Mid-air the Twi'lek pulled himself into a small ball, protecting his head, ensuring the sword was at his side and crashing into the ground with most of his mental awareness still intact.

Sharp pain in his left shoulder told him he hadn't taken that fall lightly though.

 

[Azimuth Industries]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BUjUz_QEh48​

​

Tower Security​

"Hey, Sarge, just got a call from our friends in the swamp."

The Sergeant swiveled around in his chair, a short, stocky human with perpetually red cheeks.

"Oh yeah? What'd they want, Dinky?"

The Duros security officer shrugged, "Some sorta quarantine down by where the firefight's going on."

"What, they want us mixed up in all that mess?"

"No, no, they just wanna make sure that we get a perimeter established so uh, you know, nobody gets in or out who ain't supposed to get in or out."

"Oh. Oh yeah," Sarge sat back in his chair and scratched the stubble under his chin thoughtfully, "Quarantine? Yeah, yeah. Ok."

* * *

The perimeter ended up consisting of honking horns, flashing blue lights, and yellow holotape.

"Hey, what the kark is goin' on," screamed a driver out his speeder, "I need to get to work, you gotta let us through."

Officer one stared back. "Sorry, there's been a gas leak."

An explosion range out in the distance, followed by the staccato chorus of gunshots.

"Are those gunshots?"

"Mmnope. Gasleak. Very dangerous. Sorry, but you're gonna have to turn your speeder around and find a different way."

"And- and if I don't?"

Officer two blinked, then pulled out his sidearm. "I smell spice. Do you have narcotics on your person?"

"What?" asked the civilian. "No, I don-"

"Oh really?" asked Officer one as he walked over to the civvie's speeder and tossed a bag full of red powder into the backseat before promptly picking it up again. "What's this then?"

"That- You just put it there!"

"Uh huh. Sir, I'm gonna need you to get out of the vehicle," said Officer two.

"You, you can't do this," the driver's hands on the controls had grown white, "this can't be happening."

"Sure we can, you're in possession of Class A contraband. Now, sir, were you driving under the influence?" asked officer one.

"What? No, I don't... I wasn't." Sweat beaded his brow.

"Hmm, I guess we are going to have to get a blood test then. Might as well pat you down for weapons too," said officer two.
They pulled him out of the speeder and patted him down, but came up with zilch.

"Well, you know how crafty these drug dealers can be," said officer one, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. Snap. "We'll have to do a cavity search. Sir, if you could drop your pants."


The other drivers in the area zipped away faster than a Hutt running from a gym.

 

[Delilah Keyes]

She felt the line of fire as the sword glanced across her upper arm. She'd managed to avoid the weight of the blow when she'd dropped into, but it surprised her and she grunted. The blastsword fired into the darkness past her, illuminating them both in a heartbeat of crimson backlight, and suddenly everything was deadly serious.

He'd thrown his blade she'd thought- somehow she had missed the second one- she had assumed it was the same blade somersaulting through the air at her and that could have been a fatal mistake. She'd already neutralized six men, and it wasn't until this moment that she realized just how much that had taken out of her. She had missed something she never should have, the details blurring into the background when the details were vitally important. She couldn't afford to let that happen again.

She had to end this, quickly. Didn't have to kill him. Just hit him hard enough to keep him down.

Her bicep burned, and she could feel the warm of blood where it trickled down her arm. The blade had sliced neatly through jacket and into flesh beneath. She thought it was fairly shallow, but she didn't have the luxury of exploring it. If the blade was sharp enough it could be deeper than she realized, and that worried her.

Shooting forward from her crouch, she stepped in swiftly, before he got a chance to recover from the throw. She reclaimed the carbine where it hung, reversing the previous grip and jamming the butt of the gun toward the back of his head.

[member="Xian Valart"]

 

[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"]
Equipment │ Sword - Pistol 1 - Pistol 2 - Necklace - Armor

Step by step, the once calm atmosphere of the Network Access fell into chaos; war and death becoming as common in the air as the smell of spice in a poor slum nightclub. In many senses, it was almost more intoxicating to those who flourished in the violence; which many of those present today did. They were all warriors of passion, no matter the money they thought they did it for; because at the end of the day they enjoyed what they did.

They fell in love with the adrenaline, not the credits.

As the energy from [member="Matsu Xiangu"]’s spear broke free from her grasp; a faint echo of its power rushed through the area. It was far from subtle, giving an almost sonar like positioning; a frozen picture of the battle that was commencing far from core. Perhaps it startled the sniper, as was the Sith Lord’s intention, but it also drew the curious attention of figures she didn’t know were there.

Yet.

The Slave moved from the core, clad from head to toe in his phrik based armor. Although the cloaking systems no longer worked, those who used the force to sense their surroundings would find him entirely missing. He had no presence within it, at least for now, but there was a cry even the nongifted could sense; the mournful cry of a blade deprived of the blood it demanded. A golden incursion into the sanity and focus of many the men who thought their campaign against the equally sane and determined.

No, what they heard was the low musical tones of a banshee. Her sweet, sultry cries arched in tune with the distant spray of blood, finding tempo in combat only a few could see. Its musicians, the director of this sorrowful cacophony was a man whose face was hidden behind a faceplate; but his voice betrayed any enigmatic presence the mask might have given off.

“Where are you?! Don’t let your pawns die for nothing!“

His words were hot and heavy, riddled with aggrandized violence that dripped from each syllable. It seemed Matsu’s power had intoxicated the young man, drawn him from whatever position he was in prior out to face something a few would imagine only a God could possess.

But if it were a God he was to face, then he considered himself the instrument of deicide pointed directly at this figure. His cacophonic blade called farther than his words, announcing his presence before anything else, but it was the wake of blood and demise behind him that truly showed his intentions.

He came to fight, just as they all had; but something different wafted from his stance. It wasn’t a need for credits, greed, nor simple passion. It was blind and unadulterated pleasure, founded entirely in the blood that sprayed itself across his visor.

It was her blood he came for now.