Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Aftermath: Tonight the Tap Pours Blue

Secrets are protected in the darkness
darkwire_header_blue_flame_raid_2.png

Far beneath the surface of Denon and the penthouse apartments and green filled gardens that make it up, sits a bar. Though its walls are old and the paint is chipped and faded. Though lines run from the corners where the rain, just faintly acidic at this depth, has eaten away at the paint, revealing the old and rust tinged metal beneath. Though its sign with its neon lights and stylized blue flame flicker and sputter every few minutes, the inside is full of life. It’s bursting with voices and music as patrons loiter about the bar or sequester themselves in the quiet booths for a private conversation. It is a normal night at the Blue Flame, one full of joy and poorly hidden dissent.

Raucous laughter washes over the bar. It’s loud, noisy and bright and full of youthful energy. Anakin finds himself smiling as he makes his way over, arms full of drinks and sharp teeth on display behind the wild smile.

“Haku Jee konpa?” He speaks in huttese, words slowed as he works around the language in his already buzzed mind.

“Anakin!” The name is spoken with excitement and no small amount of drunken joy.
His own smile widens at the sight of the togorian.
“Yaee Akan. Jee nan boht sanog!” He holds the tray aloft, the precious cargo swishing in their glasses and threatening to spill. An eager hand reaches for one, only to be swatted away with a carefully controlled wing.

“Mah dabayee!” The words are thrown to the air with over exaggerated grief and a look of equally theatrical betrayal.

The tray is moved out of reach. “Um koo, toupee mee dokoza.” His words are met with a cacophony of voices as they stumble over each other to share the tales they had experienced since he last saw them. His bargain is quickly forgotten, glasses of alcohol snatched from the tray before the first story and banter has ended. Anakin cannot bring himself to mind. Not now, when he’s sitting around a table with friends, laughing and joking with no plan on stopping before morning.

Warmth blooms in his chest, and hours from now, when he is alone and hunted, hiding in the rafters of a back alley roof and praying to Ekkreth that the corpos do not find him, he will wish he cherished it more. But that is later. Now he laughs and he smiles and he enjoys the company of friends.

Even as the CorpSec check their gear and slip into pre-assigned groups with nary a word. There is no need for a speech. No need for a summarization of their plan. Each one knows their job. To take and hold the Blue Flame. To arrest any and all occupants and search the building for any connection to the terrorist organization known as Darkwire. Be it from tech or from prisoners taken in the raid.

Still he smiles, and fidgets with the glass before him.

It’s not until they surround the building that his desert begins to stir. It’s a deep and heavy noise that rumbles from within his bones and sets his teeth on edge. It is a muted buzzing sound that should have sent his blood coursing through his veins and called the storm to his hands to rest in the bones of his fingers and the deadly tips of his claws until he calls for it.

Instead he simply ignores it. He clenches his jaw and begins to tell his own tale. Unaware, unexpecting, unknow-

Bang!

The door slams open and CorpSec streams into the building. Each one is armed, each one is aiming their gun at the crowd. They are to capture the patrons of the bar, but Anakin knows with the hard won knowledge of a slave that there will be too many casualties for a simple subdue and capture.

Silence.

For one single, weighted moment. Then-

A woman throws a glass at a CorpSec’s head. And the bar descends into chaos. They open fire, stun shots strong enough to send a wookie to the floor, rocketing around the small space. Glass and alcohol soar through the air and within moments the once orderly bar is reduced to a war zone, with tables overturned to create cover and the floor dotted with metal chairs covered in sharpened shards of glass and growing pools of alcohol.

It is chaos, pure and simple.

Mostly just fluff. For any interested, Coruscant translator was what I used to make it

 
There's more than one way to be enslaved
Spice blue eyes glance towards his friends. They are standing now, long honed instincts forcing them to their feet even in their addled states. They are unfettered, and they know what it means if they resist. They are Amavikkan, each and every one of them hailing from Tatooine, and they know what will happen if they do not. The stories are scarred upon their skin and burned into their mind. They will be returned, be it to Tatooine itself and the hutts that rule it, or to the corpo camps and work yards. Both paths lead to slavery. And they will not allow it.

The silence is broken with a crash. A togorian woman across the room throws him a glass of whisky at the head of a guard. It hits his helmet with a thunk, spilling alcohol across his face.

Tension breaks. Blasters fire into the crowd and Anakin dives behind a booth. His own blaster is at his hip, but his hands shake too much to hit a target. His vision swims, the bright bolts of blaster fire streaking across his view and causing his mind to pulse with pain.

He is trapped, huddled behind cover with his friends in the midst of the chaos and the screaming. In the midst of the haze of blaster fire and alcohol, both in his system and littering the floor and raining from the walls as bottles along the racks are hit by stray bolts.

As cruelty and battle rage around him, it would be a lie to say Anakin is the center of the storm.

No, he is scarred. Terrified in a way he has not been for decades. Depur’s enforcers surround him and his mind buzzes with the dulling effect of liquor.

Across the room, a wookie falls to the slavers’ guns. She takes two shots to the chest and falls in an instant. Behind him, his half wookie friend whimpers and leans into the others. They’re scared too. He can see it in their eyes, in the way they shy away from the fight.

A snarl forms in his throat. His people are scared. They are scared and cornered and he will not let them be taken. He is Anakin Stormrunner, Depuskalta, Kol-depuan, Ipada of his people. He is Anakin Stormrunner, named for Ekkreth the trickster, the shape changer, the slave who makes free and whom no chain can hold. He is Anakin Stormrunner, favored by Leia, and he will not go quietly.
 

Elias Burgendy

Guest
E
TAGS | Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner OPEN
"Look, you can stay in here for a few more minutes, then you gotta leave. That, or you buy a drink, or something. They're only a few credits." The bartender said, motioning to some display glasses resting on the bar. Elias looked up from a spot on the glass bar he had grown transfixed on, and nodded groggily, his movements slow and sluggish. Who needs alcohol to make you tired when you have stress? His life seemed to be one misfortune after another today. Least of all, his sudden firing from his job. He didn't take it personal though. They called it an "outplacement", just a "moving of resources", or whatever PR speak they used to describe it. But whatever the language, it didn't matter. He was unemployed. And being unemployed sucks. He half-heartedly responded to the bar-tender's business pitch. "I'll uh, I'll get outta here in a few minutes." Elias's brow wrinkled as he put his head into his hands.
He would have to search for a job. Most likely one that paid even worse then the job he worked before. His friend, Jeff owned a convince store a few blocks down, perhaps he could get a job stocking shelves or doing something equally boring. Elias sighed again, and began to rise from his seat, when a sound rang out through the bar. A glass shattering. Elias practically jumped from his seat in surprise, tensing up for a just a second, and he turned to see what was going on.
A woman, Torgorian, had thrown a glass at the head of a man dressed in large, bulky armor, wielding a large blaster-rifle. Discarded alcohol slid down his faceplate. He was a member of a row of at least 5 CorpSec officers, who had somehow entered the bar without Elias noticing.


They turned their weapons towards the crowd, and for what seemed like an eternity, the world stood still.
Elias's mind went into flight or fight mode, a cold chill running down his back, and he subconsciously stiffened up. There he was, a statue, unable to move. His brain had gone into overdrive now, and Elias could not think straight. A bead of sweat streaked down his forehead.

Suddenly, he could move again. Feeling came back to his limbs, the logical side of his mind had taken over. Elias dropped to the ground quickly as bolts of bright red plasma flew over-his head, barely missing where his cranium had been.

Elias put his face to the ground, and grabbed the back of his neck, the rapid-fire shooting continuing for a few more, eternity long seconds.
Then they stopped. Elias slowly lifted his head, turning it towards the direction of the weapons discharge, and his eyes widened in shock.
Bodies were strewn across the entire floor of the cantina. Elias then remembered his CorpSec friends, and quickly crawled over behind a booth.
Reaching for a blaster pistol he carried with him always, Elias scanned his surroundings for any advantage, thoughts of when his co-workers made fun of him for putting so much time into going to the shooting range back at his old job creeping into his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone slumped against the booth on the opposite end of the establishment. No. Not slumped, but leaning against it for cover, holding a blaster pistol, throwing occasional glances at the Corpos. Elias craned his neck to better project his voice towards the person, and tried to whisper loudly. "Hey, hey buddy! I got a blaster, you got a blaster, what do you say we... yknow.." Elias gestured with his head towards the CorpSec officers, as he waited for a response with bated breath.
 
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The Doc wasn't sure what he was doing in this part of town. Sometimes he just seemed to go on autopilot, drifting back toward his old haunts. He wasn't sure how many nights he'd spent at the Blue Flame since he'd come to Denon, but it was a significant portion of all his nights in that time. He liked the staff, he liked the drinks, and most of all, he liked the atmosphere. It was the kind of place where a man could drink alone until he could barely stand and no one would bother him, except maybe to make sure he made it home safely. The Doc valued that. Heavy drinking kept his mind's demons at bay, and those demons were multiplying lately, new spectres of guilt after the assassination.

But he couldn't come back here, no matter how much he wanted to. He was still banned after the fight he'd started on Enterprise Day, a fight that had seen considerable damage - and CorpSec attention - come down on the place. The Doc missed it, but he understood. The owners had to protect their business, and he'd proven that he had the potential to start serious trouble. He was still incredulous that he'd done it, aghast at a capacity for rage and violence he hadn't recognized in himself before. It'd been the first such fight he'd ever been in, in all his life, and a pretty clear violation of his own nonviolent principles. Naturally, he'd gotten his ass kicked. He wasn't good at brawling.

The Doc almost turned to leave, to find somewhere else he could drink until the dark thoughts plaguing him turned into unrecognizable mush... but he felt something, a tension in the air, that made him pause. He'd learned to trust his instincts, and he had a feeling that something was about to go down here. Ducking into a nearby alleyway, he kept watch... and his heart sank as he saw armored CorpSec goons closing in around the building. After Xopsaloff's assassination, a brutal crackdown had been inevitable. The DireX Board was running scared, which meant that Darkwire had done exactly what they set out to do... but also that they would have to deal with the consequences.

There was no way he could get a warning to those inside, not in time to make any difference; the CorpSec tactical teams had gotten into position with their trademark efficiency, and were already preparing to breach the entrances. With a fresh pang of guilt, the Doc wondered if it was the anti-Corpo brawl he'd set off here that'd put the place on CorpSec's radar as a potential hangout for Darkwire runners and sympathizers. It was all too likely. But whether it was true or not, he had to do something here. These guys might be carrying heavy-duty stun guns, but the street medic knew all too well that stunners didn't always stay nonlethal. One good stomp on a downed civilian's face...

Before he could make any decisions about what to do, CorpSec stormed in, guns at the ready. There was a tense instant as the crowd of patrons, hyped up on liquor and the feeling that even a DireX was not invulnerable, faced the intruders. Then that feeling burst over the walls of the dam. A thrown glass was all it took to turn the standoff into an all-out battle. The Doc winced as he heard the sound of furniture and glassware, probably newly replaced after the trouble he'd started, smashing beneath booted feet. "Ah, feth me," he swore under his breath. "What difference am I gonna make? This is a bad idea." And it was... but the Corpos ran this planet, and no one else was coming.

Launching himself forward from where he was crouched in the alley, Doc Painless sprinted for the wall of the building. There was a lower level to the Blue Flame, home to a garage and the hydroponics lab that grew fresh veggies for the restaurant, but CorpSec would almost certainly have located and stormed that too. The best chance for getting inside - and potentially getting other people out - lay on the second floor, the lofted dining area overlooking the bar. The Doc grabbed a drainpipe and, clutching on with cyber-enhanced strength, hauled himself upward until he reached the balcony. The doors were shut; he had to punch out a window to get inside. "Sorry," he muttered.

He looked down over the bar and saw a scene of utter chaos. Bodies - hopefully just stunned, but it was hard to tell - were strewn everywhere. Tables had been overturned, transformed into makeshift cover as the combination brawl / gunfight raged on. The Doc spied Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner down in the chaos, sheltered in a booth, with someone he didn't recognize crouching nearby. He couldn't make out the other man's words over the din of battle. The street medic waved frantically at them, trying to get their attention without attracting too much of the same from CorpSec. If they could just get people up to the restaurant level, maybe they could get them out, down the back alley.

It was the only plan he could think of on such short notice.

 
The armoured form of Shai Maji marched into the tavern along with the rest of the unit of CorpSec officers. She was rather curious about why they would hire a Mando for a simple stun and cuff job, but the pay was amazing so she kept her questions to herself. Plus from the news and what people said so far, these Darkwire dudes were trouble. Pretty much domestic terrorists from what she could tell.

With a pistol in each hand she knelt by one of the commanding officers. "Set for stun, right?" she asked him quickly as she flipped the switches on her pistols. She didn't want to make a mistake on this job. She needed the money.

With a nod she got her confirmation. A menacing cackle erupted as she stood up and fired away. A few of the resisting patrons fell while others seemed to try and run away. A few bolts came her way but they harmlessly bounced off her Beskar'gam as she returned fire.

Her attention was drawn to the second level of the building as a man ( Doc Painless Doc Painless ) waved at what she guessed was his friends. She quickly hurled a few bolts at him before shifting her aim at another individual she spotted. ( Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner )
 
There she was, sitting at the very booth that she had always found herself in. The glass of Halmad Prime rested softly within the palm of her furred hand, being lightly twirled as the Jenet silently thought to herself. Her eyes were distant as they stared out into the nothingness, her mind still trying to put together any semblance of her plans for the future ahead.

She certainly held aspirations, but such lofty ideals were nothing without the resources in which could see them come to fruition. The information stolen away from Xopsaloff would certainly be of use. It seemed he held Corpo spies within the ranks of his so-called 'allies' and simple threats to be exposed were enough for them to begin to divert resources into her own direction. Nothing like an ultimatum between accepting or dying by the hands of their corporate overlords to sweeten the deal.

Even greater were the accounts of the Public Bank of Denon. The blackened heart of the planets misdeeds all neatly formatted for Xopsaloff to pluck at and use against any who stood against him. Debt defaulting, interest hikes, contract loopholes and vanishing credits were all seemingly tools in his economic misdeeds. Jade couldn't help but be impressed how he managed to lock some people in a prison of their own doing. Influential members of Denon simply became nothing more than pawns in the Muun banker's schemes in order to further his own ambition.

But with the wealth of influence now at her disposal from the raid? She had no real idea what to do with it exactly. So much opportunity was overwhelming, and the mere thought of using it in order to uplift her position was....exhilarating. Should she try and bring the gangers into the fold, and form connections with the underground? Or should she try and create greater conflict between the gangs and the Corpo's, and try and profit from the destruction? Or should she sit silently, and slowly siphon the scraps of their Corpo overlords in order to further her own ends, possibly even get a ship to fly elsewhere in time?

Too much to think about, though she had time to simply sit and silently ponder over the possibilities. Her eyes gazed across the room, recognising the regulars that attended the bar itself. A couple of informants had already moved through, telling her of the slight shake-ups in the wake of Xopsaloff's death, and who seems to be trying to fill the shoes. Overall, there was little in the way of good news. It seemed that killing Xopsaloff was their key to waking the sleeping bear, and they had become abuzz with activity.

That's when all hell broke loose.

A single explosion. A single flash of light sparking from the entrance of the Blue Flame, and the shouting that followed, only for stun blaster fire to quickly follow after that. Ducking underneath the booth, her mind began to race in a frenzied panic, but she had to calm herself and think about the next move to make. She knew the layout of the building, and she knew of the ventilation system in the kitchen that kept the room to a cool level while the chefs did their work. She needed to get there, and she might just yet make it out alive and free.

The only issue was the six meters of open floor space between her and the bar that was in the clear line of sight from their newest visitors. "Why didn't anybody kriffing tell me of this!?" She spat under her breath as she waited for something.

It would come in the form of a few blaster bolts being shot in the direction of the second floor, making the Corpsec officers to look in the direction of where the mercenary was firing. Knowing it was now or never, she leaped across the room to seek refuge behind the bar, as more blaster shots were hurled within the room.
 
The Doc's reward for trying to help was a couple of blaster bolts sent his way. He quickly dropped flat, cushioning his head with his cybernetic arms as he hit the polished wood floor. The stun bolts either flew over him, right where his head had been, or slammed into the balcony overlooking the cantina floor. The street medic cussed loudly; he still wasn't used to getting shot at. More than that, though, it meant that the Corpos were playing for keeps here. They'd brought in mercenaries, and it didn't look like they were just here to break up the party. They wanted to arrest everyone on the premises, no doubt to beat them until they gave up Darkwire agents.

The fact that most people here knew nothing about Darkwire wouldn't give them a second's pause.

The Doc had no idea what to do from here. He didn't carry a gun, and couldn't have out-shot a whole squad of Corpo goons even if he had. Shai Maji Shai Maji , by the look of her, could definitely take him down all by her lonesome. Hadn't he seen her at that jatz club, the one where Daiya Daiya and her crew had been celebrating? A shame she'd ended up on the Corpo side, but if she went where the credits were, that was pretty inevitable. He was going to have to keep his head down if he wanted to stay out of her crosshairs, so he crawled slowly across the floor of the restaurant level, moving back toward the second story doors. Maybe he could signal someone, or something.

What he really needed, what they all needed, was for Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner to work his magic. The Doc had seen the kid in action, and Stormrunner could do things that he just couldn't explain. The young runner had ripped through a lot more Corpos than this on Xopsaloff's flagship, and it'd been one hell of a savage display; just remembering the sight of it put a pit in the street medic's stomach. Maybe, with cover from that other guy down there, Anakin could get them all out of this mess. If not, a whole lot of them were going to be spending the night in CAD prison cells... and maybe a lot longer than just the night. Feth, he wished he hadn't gotten involved.

 
There's more than one way to be enslaved
Tags: Doc Painless Doc Painless Lilash "Jade" Covegra Lilash "Jade" Covegra
Engaging: Shai Maji Shai Maji

Blaster bolts pinged against his cover. Above him a man called from safety, beckoning a way out. Behind him his friends cowered in fear, drunk and disoriented. He couldn't leave them here. He couldn't fly them all up. It left only one option. "Shrik, toss everyone to da second balcony." He addressed his words to the half wookie.

"What about you?"

"I cause distraction. Now go!" Just like that, he threw himself out from cover. Drunk of fear and adrenaline and more than a small about of alcohol, he threw caution to the wind. Three, four, five, stun shots hit him in the chest. They impacted, with enough force to drop a wookie for a week. They impacted, with strength to kill a human much less someone such as him. They impacted, and he did not even stumble.

He stood there, wings spread full, arms wide, predatory smile pulling across his lightning scarred face. Scars that began to flicker and glow with true lightning, following the marks like the bones of a river before coalescing in his hands.

It jumped from his skin and flickered across his nails. It trailed from the edges of his spice blue eyes and danced along his teeth like fire from the mouth of a krayt. He roared. Lightning burst from his skin in a wave. He roared. Taloned feet spurred himself towards the slavers and enforcers which surrounded him. He roared. He attacked.

Lightning caught on the skin of the human and dropped him before his claws even touched the neck. The next was much the same, though by the third his claws had time to draw blood. The effect was wearing off, though it was obvious the electricity still had quite an effect.

Behind him, Shrik sent the first of them sailing into the air. He could hear the thunk and feel his enemies' attention begin to waver. And so he defended and kept their eyes on him. He lunged for throats and aimed for eyes, snapping and snarling all the while. Five, six, seven slavers fell to talon and claw but it was not enough. It was not nearly enough. More were filling the bar by the minute and with each one he slew two more took their place. His hands were sticks with the blood of his foes and his feet were drowning in gore and alcohol and shards of glass lodged within his feet. He paid them no mind, drunk on fear and adrenaline and more than a small amount of alcohol as he was.

His second companion went up, then the third, until only two were remaining. It was then that he came to Shai. His hands dripped with lightning and filled with blood. They arced through the air, viscera coated claws aimed directly for her throat and jets of lightning arcing ahead of them like painful heralds of a deadly fate. As his hand moved so to did his wing. It hurdling towards her helmeted face with sparking feather intent on slamming against the view port and filling her gaze with nothing more than justice and hard won freedom.
 
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The man on the balcony quickly ducked for cover while another dove in behind the bar. Shai's pistol fire didn't let up for a moment. The bird boy seemed to try... something. Shai wasn't sure what, but she didn't care as she fired a stun bolt at him along with a few other cops.

The result was less than desirable.

The stun bolts did nothing to him, however that was not an immediate concern as he started to glow. "Uh oh... duck in cover!" she barked as her jetpack carried her back and in behind a booth. She knew what was coming, and it was confirmed when lightning flew from the man and knocked down a bunch of cops. She was knocked down as well but thankfully nothing happened. She whispered a silent prayer to the Force that she had a body glove with a rubber lining. As uncomfortable as it was, she knew it would be handy for something like this.

Standing up from her cover, she took note of the situation. The bird brain was ripping cops apart while his friend hurled a bunch of people up onto the second floor. It was then that he turned his attention on her. Her eyes narrowed and a low growl erupted as he approached her. Holstering her pistols, she was ready for him. "Bring it, lemon herb." she snarled before he swung at her throat. She leaned back and dodged the claws, but the wing was too quick for her. She raised her left arm to block it while her right hand grabbed hold of his wing. Cybernetic servos whirred as she clamped down. She was also pretty sure that the crushgaunt amplifying her grip would do some damage as well. She wasn't going to wait around and see as the flame thrower on her left vambrace came to life directly at his wing and side. If the situation wasn't so problematic, she would make a joke about barbecue chicken.

What she didn't take into account was the charge stored through her armour as she attacked him...

Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner Doc Painless Doc Painless Lilash "Jade" Covegra Lilash "Jade" Covegra
 

Elias Burgendy

Guest
E
Tags: Doc Painless Doc Painless Shai Maji Shai Maji Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner Lilash "Jade" Covegra Lilash "Jade" Covegra
Engaging: Random CorpSec Goon
Elias watched with bewilderment from behind the now riddled-with-blaster-marks booth as the kid got up and spread a huge pair of wings, and electricity crackled on his face and gathered on his hands. The guy in the bulky armor threw down his weapons and put his dukes up, ready to fight the space-wizard. "What in the hell did I get myself into?" Elias muttered to himself as he began to load his last spare cartridge into his pistol, when a red glow caught his eye. An exit sign, flickering above a barely illuminated back door. Elias stopped and stared at it for a few moments, almost as if he couldn't believe there was an easy out of this madness for him. Elias shook his head a little as he jumped up, and began to book it for the exit, when he was suddenly slammed into a wall, a force comparable of a hover-train taking him off his feet. Elias gripped the back of his neck, a sharp pain slowly crawling up his back and to his neck. Elias got a glimpse of his attacker, a stocky human man staring down at him, dressed from head to toe in CorpSec armor.
"You ain't getting away that easy, pal." A sound of harsh electric buzzing filled Elias's ears as the officer lit an electric baton, raising up to strike at him. It came down, and hard. Elias grunted in pain repeatedly as the baton was smashed over and over into his face, his eyesight and his hearing slowly leaving him once more, the man hitting him so hard as to beat him to death. Another one of his senses did not fail him however. Elias felt his hand graze by something synthetic, rugged and almost plasticine. His blaster.

Elias grabbed onto what he hoped was his gun-stock, and summoned all his remaining strength to slam the gun into the side of his attacker's head. The unexpected attack made the man give up his assault for just a moment, making him stumble backward. Elias thought quickly, and pushed the half loaded-cartridge all the way into the blaster, and raised it towards the man. His former attacker shook his head and opened his eyes, which grew to the size of dinner plates when he saw the loaded blaster pistol pointed at him. Elias pulled the trigger, and the blaster bolt pierced through the man's forehead, causing him to fall to the ground slowly, eventually keeling over.

Elias turned towards where the exit had been, his eyes bleary and his hearing still worsened but his mind was as sharp as ever. Quickly, Elias ran towards the exit, when a stray blaster bolt streaked over to a loose electrical panel near the door, a large rush of fire, debris and smoke pulsing forth from within the panel, the shockwave sending Elias right back into the wall. When Elias looked back towards the door, a large patch of fire now blocked his path. His only way out of here. "Damnit!" Elias cursed as he put his head against the wall.
 
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They might be on the same side, but the Doc always found it unsettling to see Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner in action.

Up until that point, the brawl in the Blue Flame had been brutal, but not deadly. Stun bolts had flown, stun batons had cracked into ribs and skulls, but nobody had gotten maimed or killed... at least, not deliberately. Multiple stun blasts to the chest or head could disrupt the body's electrical rhythms, causing cardiac arrest or brain damage. When five blasts slammed into Anakin's chest, though, he shrugged them off as if they'd been nothing but a gentle spray of water. Then he started killing. Blood and viscera flew, and skin charred as the electricity that crackled around him struck home. The Doc had seen it before, and even closer up, but he was far from used to it.

It'd made him feel sick before, this close-quarters slaughter, and it made him feel sick now.

The street medic forced himself to look away, tearing his cybernetic eyes from the carnage. With this escalation to lethal force, it wouldn't be long before the Corpos switched their blasters off of stun. When that happened, a lot of the people in here were going to die... so it was even more urgent to get everyone he could out of the building. As Anakin brawled with the Mandalorian who'd shot at him, the wookiee down below started bodily tossing some of the people trapped on the cantina floor up to the balcony, bypassing the dangerous sprint to the stairs or turbolift. It was a strange sight indeed, and the "flight" was far from dignified, but it might save a lot of lives.

It was hard to imagine the strength that the throws required; certainly enough to snap the Doc in half.

He shook off that thought as he set to work, helping the people who'd been tossed up to him get to the second-story doors. From there, they would have to shimmy down one of the pipes or drop from the balcony back to the ground; neither would be easy, but it beat being captured or killed by CorpSec. Glancing back around the corner, the Doc caught sight of Elias Burgendy struggling to rise, forced away from the back exit by a wall of fire. "Hey!" he called, shouting to be heard over the sounds of the brawl, "up here! If you can make it to the stairs, we've got a way out!" Of course, the Corpos might hear him, too... so the guy had better hurry.

 
There's more than one way to be enslaved
Tags: Doc Painless Doc Painless Lilash "Jade" Covegra Lilash "Jade" Covegra Elias Burgendy
Engaging: Shai Maji Shai Maji

Pain jolted through his body as he yanked his wing back, leaving a handful of flight feathers pinned within the mandalorian's grasp. Going with the motion of his wing, he brought his right shoulder forward as his left went sailing back. Flicker quick, he drew his knife and slashed it across her gut, aiming the blade at the chink in her armor. Held in a back hand grip as it was, and with the momentum and weight behind it, it should have pierced the flimsy cloth beneath with ease.

It didn't. It caught the fabric an carried on, leaving nothing in it's wake, not even a scratch. This was bad. He had known this would be a hard fight. He had known that he was unlikely to win. He had known that to live he would need to escape. He knew all of this, but he had thought he could at least do some damage.

Distracted as he was, he didn't notice the gauntlet coming up towards his left wing, or the fire sparking at it's tips. Within moments his wing was alight and his world was reduced to pain and fear.

Once, twice, three times he beat the feathered limbs through the air, hoping beyond all hope that the movement and the wind would put the flames out. By the time it did, his primaries had been badly burnt, and his skin beneath was raw and red from the proximity of the flames.

In the midst of the fire and the frenzied panic, Anakin missed the sound of a body hitting the floor. Though he didn't know it, only one person remained.

Instead he kept fighting. Slipping this way and that, just out of the slaver's reach but just close enough to send another volt of lightning through her suit. If he couldn't damage her, then he would damage her armor.

A jab to her side, a swipe to her feet with his uninjured wing, each feather cracking with lightning. It shouldn't be long now until Shrik was done.

"Ani!" the word cut through the room with comedic timing. Unusually distorted and deep, it was all Anakin needed to know that their time was up.

With a beat of his wings, he launched himself backwards, towards the wookie who had called his name. No words were exchanged as Anakin called up a storm. No words were needed. The two had fought together for years now, and they knew the other's styles and strategies like it was their own.

Around them, shards of broken glass an chunks of metal began to swirl, soon joined by streams of Tatooine sand that Anakin had kept on his person. A sandstorm raged before them, blocking them from the blaster bolt and swirling with enough speed to pierce flesh. Leia protected them as the sprinted towards the stairway. Leia protected them as the made it to the second story, expanding the storm to a wall and covering the others with him. Leia protected them as Anakin ushered everyone who wished to go out the window and down the pipe as he kept the storm from dying. The moment he left, was the moment Leia stopped. All the sand and all the glass and all the metal dropped to the floor as Anakin soared out the window.

His flight was uneasy. The damage to his wing forcing him to beat it twice as fast to simply stay aloft. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised then, when the mandalorian burst out the door and began firing on him. He barely made it around the corner of an alley before the onslaught. Still he could not stop, adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he knew as well as any what fate awaited him if he was caught. Slavery to the corpos, and then, once they had their fun and nothing was left of him except what they made him into, only then would they hand him over to the Hutts, a death sentence in all but name.

So he flew. He flew and he feared and he prayed to Ekkreth and Leia and Ar-amu and all who would listen that he could escape.
 
It was a tough fight and the constant attacks of electricity had Shai stressing for her wellbeing. Thankfully she managed to do some damage but her suit started to fail on her. The flamer sputtered and cut out on her while she could see little sparks in the crevices of her vambraces.

Then came the knife. She twisted her body and leaned back to let her armour take the hit. He made contact but nothing got through. Inside she was relieved. She still wanted kids someday, a gut slice wouldn't be beneficial.

She was on the defensive as he used his wing and claws to attack, sending sparks of electricity at her with every swing. She tried to evade but her legs were swept out from under her, dropping her to the ground while she felt a sting somewhere on her calf. Little birdy was getting lucky.

As he conjured up a storm, she rolled back and got out of range, a snarl slashing through the air as she felt her mane stand on end underneath her suit. She was starting to lose it. She drew her blaster and fired a few stun bolts at them, but the cover was too thick and soon they were on the second floor.

Shai bolted for the door and fired at him as he flew away, but nothing scored. With a growl she smacked her vambrace and managed to get it working for her jetpack to come to life. With a sputter and slight backfire that caught her off guard, she was sent into the air and soon pursued him. According to what she read, he was a valuable target. Getting him meant more money to send to her mom and more to save up for her new factory.

Zipping through the air she kept him in her sights. Her pistol was in hand and ready to fire a stun bolt. All she needed was a second of lost focus.

Then the idea came to her. She fiddled with her controls and brought her jetpack's missile online. The targeting system was fried but that was fine. With the press of a button it launched... then flew past him and impacted a building close to him.

Her pistol was trained on him, firing away with stun bolts while she hoped the explosion would knock him off course enough for her to land one good shot. She was tempted to go lethal, but that wasn't her job and she didn't want to take a life despite the fact that he tried to kill her.

The idea of planting a particle bolt in him and watching it blow a hole through him didn't sit right. He wasn't sith and he didn't deserve it. Her job was to capture and bring in alive. That was what she was going to do.

Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner Doc Painless Doc Painless
 
Like a storm swelling into a tornado, Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner and the power that surrounded him sped up the stairs, the people he protected flowing along in his wake. He blew right past the Doc, though he stopped long enough to hold up a barrier made of... sand? Whatever it was, the wall kept the Blue Flame patrons safe enough as they shimmied down the pipe and emerged into the dank Denon night. Well, some of them managed to shimmy, anyway. A lot of them, more drunk or less athletic than the cutoff to climb a slick metal pole in the dark, slid partway down and then fell. The Doc winced each time, hoping no one broke an ankle. At least they were out.

With that work accomplished, Anakin simply exploded out the window without a backward glance, his wings beating the night air to take him higher and higher. The Doc shook his head in amazement as he watched the kid fly. He had no idea what species Anakin was, or if all of them could do what he did, but feth if it didn't take his breath away every time. Between claws and wings, lightning and sand, he was eternally grateful that the two of them had never found themselves on opposing sides. Shaking off his awe, the street medic took his turn on the pole, using his cybernetically-enhanced grip to ensure a slow and steady descent. He couldn't afford to fall.

By the time he reached the alley, most of the patrons had already scattered and fled, and those who hadn't were getting to their feet and preparing to do so. The Doc was more than ready to do the same... but as soon as he started to run, the doors of the Blue Flame burst open and that Mandalorian merc dashed out. She was taking potshots - and even shooting off a missile - at Anakin, and part of the Doc was tempted to intervene, to tackle her or something so that the Darkwire runner could get away. But not only was the Doc not much of a fighter, he was also probably in a lot more danger than Anakin was here. The kid could take care of himself.

As for the Doc, he was pretty sure he'd just crossed a major fething line. There was no way that CorpSec hadn't seen his face in there; that was what they had holocams for, since it sure as chit wasn't for any kind of accountability. They could easily hit him with an "aiding and abetting" charge, or "resisting arrest", and then he'd disappear into some deep Corpo prison, never to be seen again. Most days he wasn't completely against the idea of dying, but that was emphatically not how he wanted to die, especially if they tortured information on his friends out of him. He needed to get out of here and lay low; his clinic might be compromised any minute.

Turning on his heel, he dashed the other way up the alley, ducking cameras as best he could.

 
There's more than one way to be enslaved
Fire and rubble erupted from the wall to his left. It forced him to tuck his wings and tilt his tail in a well practiced barrel roll. A roll that could not protect him fully. As he spun, a slab of metal slammed into his chest with a crack. Pain flared through him, burning and stabbing all at once.

Tears blurred his vision. Pain lanced through his body. His chest burned with each breath. His wings aches as he pulled out of the roll.

Looking back, he couldn’t pinpoint what made it happen. It could have been the pain or the lopsided wing or any number of things. The reason didn’t matter. What mattered was that he stumbled. What mattered was that he plummeted.

Down, down, down he went. Limbs of feather and flesh tangled around him as he dropped. His chest burned. His wings ached. He watched through pupiless eyes as the ground sped ever closer.

Down, down, down he went. Stun bolts shooting past him. Stun bolts impacting on his flared tail feathers. Stun bolts, that were filled to the brim with lightning.

The electricity coarser through him, striking against the metal of the alleyway. Although it was made of energy, the bolts did nothing but tire him out. It took focus to hold off this many, and only decades of experience kept him from feeling their impact.

The ground was fast approaching. The ground was right before him. In a desperate last attempt, he flared out his wings. His body jolted as he slowed, and again as he impacted the ground. He rolled across the steel paths with a groan. Already the bruises were forming.

He scrambled to his talons, unsteady at first, then faster, quicker. Before long he was sprinting down the street. A sharp turn led him into an alley too narrow to fly through. Another sent him into the tunnel of an abandoned underground rail system.

Homeless and petty criminals watched him from the shadows and the grimey walls. If he had slowed, he would have noticed several Amavikkan among their number. But he didn’t. He kept running. He ran and he ran and he ran. Down the tunnel and onto the rusted magnetic tracks. Talons crunched against duracrete gravel as he streaked through the dark. His steps were sure, his speed was faster than ever. The darkness didn’t bother him. He could see in it just as well as in the light. He hoped his pursuer didn’t have the same benefit.

Shai Maji Shai Maji Doc Painless Doc Painless Elias Burgendy Lilash "Jade" Covegra Lilash "Jade" Covegra
 
The missile did exactly what she had hoped for... but that didn't stop him for even a second. It barely seemed to slow him down. If she had to guess, it was fear and adrenaline that kept him going. He managed to not splat against the ground but his next few turns made her life difficult. She cut her jetpack's power and ran,after him through the narrow passages and tunnels.

It was only when they arrived in a subway tunnel that Shai could use her jetpack again. However she had a new problem. Her night vision refused to work. With a frustrated growl she yanked the helmet off and clipped it to her belt. Her flashlight didn't want to work either. She was forced to rely on something her boyfriend helped her to hone again. Basic senses.

Her eyes, while not as good as his, shone a bright crimson in the darkness as her vision adjusted to make up for the lack of light. Her nose picked up on all the smells and scents around her. Her ears perked and turned, focusing on every noise he made and the ambience around them. The last bit was her entire stature.

She hated to admit that he was right. She hated that she had to act like it. She hated how self-conscious it made her felt. But karking hell it worked like a charm.

She dropped to all fours and gave it her all. Her breathing was steady and solid as her steps echoed in the tunnel. The clatter of her armour joined in as pieces smacked against each other in the new position.

She was closing the distance with her target. She needed to time it perfectly. When she got close enough, she pounced and activated her jetpack once more. Its last burst gave her just enough power to reach him and tackle him to the ground.

She was on her feet in an instant, pistol in her left hand while her right hand reached for a thermal detonator. "Stop running for kark's sake!" she shouted as her pistol switched to lethal. Her voice, while meant to be an order, sounded more like a plea. "I swear if you make me blow your head off, I'll... do something! I dunno, just... karking hell!" she shouted, her voice bouncing off the walls as she regained her breath.

"Why? Huh? Why do this to yourself?! Why not just turn yourself in?!" she asked... only to realize the naivety of the question. It was an answer even she could give. She would have done the same. She had done the same in the past.

Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner
 
There's more than one way to be enslaved
Alone. Injured. This is how is story ends.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t dying now. He would be soon, be it by the hands of the corpos or the hutts. This was his death sentence.

He would die, and this is how it happened.

Alone, injured- fallen.

The gravel of the tracks dug into the palms of his hands. It burrowed into his ruined wing and buried themselves in the flesh of his head. It had all happened so fast. One moment he had been running. The next, his pursuer had slammed into his back with the aid of her jet pack. He’d gone toppling to the ground and she had gone right past him. Only to skid to a stop several feet away.

Pain lanced through his limbs and blood flowed from his head into the socket of his eye. He was grounded. He was injured. He was alone. It was how his story would end.

Gravel shifted ahead of him, signifying the slaver’s approach. Blood rushes from his head to the stones bellow. It stained the rocks beneath his shredded hands and was sent flying from his lips as he began to cough. It wasn’t until then that he noticed the horrible stabbing pain within his chest. All liquid fire and knife tip edges. Sands, he was messed up. He couldn’t escape if he wanted to. Alone, injured, fallen. It truly was-

No.
He wouldn’t let it end like this. His story wouldn’t end crumpled on the floor in pitiful defeat. He couldn’t escape, not with his injuries, but he could face his execution on his feet. He would stare his hunter in the eyes and smile with sharpened teeth as she led him away. One day, when she found herself dead at the feet of another, he would sit and laugh as she was dragged into the twisting shifting dunes of the desert. Never to see the hidden places within, which carried freedom in their soil and the safety in the life green plants they held. She was a slaver, condemned to walk the ever shifting dunes with its ever present dangers. One day, he would laugh. Today, he gritted his teeth and pushed. Bloodied hands stung as he pushed himself to all fours. His chest burned as the movement spurred a round of coughing and blood. It didn’t matter. He was moving, that all that mattered now.

The sound of crunching gravel drew ever nearer. A count down to his last true moments of freedom. It stood in stark contrast to his pounding, racing heart which burned and ached with each new movement. Still he moved. BLoodied arms shook and twitched as he used them to leverage himself to his feet. Everything hurt. it ached and it burned and it stabbed. Blood welled up from his lungs and dripped from his head. More than once his off balance wings sent him stumbling backwards. More than once his weakened shaking knees almost sent him toppling to the ground. The adrenaline had worn off now. Of that he was certain.

The footsteps stopped a few feet away. Out of the corner of his one good eye, he saw her draw a blaster. It wasn't set to stun, not anymore, not after the stuns he pulled. He didn't have to her change it to know that. She was a slaver after all, and few would grant him enough pity in this moment of weakness.

No, he corrected as she began to speak. it wasn't weakness. "Stop running for kark's sake!" Her words fizzled past his head. There and gone as fast as water on noon day sun. He caught no words but he knew the message. Stay. It wasn't like he could do much else. Still he would be strong, even if this slaver saw only weakness. So he swung his head around to pin her in the eyes. A bloodied hand reached out towards the wall, stabilizing himself as his vision spun. There she stood. The slaver who hunted him. Proud in her victory, ecstatic in her success over the infamous Anakin. Reveling- wait. No, that wasn't right.

"I swear if you make me blow your head off, I'll... do something! I dunno, just... karking hell!" This time she yelled. This time her false bravado did nothing to hide the truth, the plea. A smile split his face. Fanged and bloody and free. "Why-" she began to speak once again, but he didn't let her. Laughter, wet and wheezing, hid whatever words left her mouth.


"You're a chit slaver if you 'ave to beg wid a injured man like me." Blood welled it's way up his throat and splattered across the ground only inches away from the hunter's boots. "Den again, your corpos never were da kind to 'ire anyding expensive."

Shai Maji Shai Maji
 
Shai frowned at his laughter. She knew he was laughing at her. Then he spoke and it did nothing to help her sour mood at all. "Hey, kark you buddy! I ain't no slaver. I'll smuggle animals, guns, people, whatever you pay me for. But slaves is one thing I don't do. So watch yourself." she defended herself, clearly ticked off by his comment.

She shook her head as she took a step back. "Wow, look at me now. Arguing with the person I'm supposed to arrest." she muttered. Focusing on him again, her weapon lowered slightly as she looked into his eyes. "But tell me this. Why? Why do this? The terrorism, the attacks, all this crap. Do you see the top dogs as slavers?" she asked him cautiously as her eyes narrowed. This was as good a chance as any to hear their side of the story.

Her pistol was still trained on him, ready to fire. Her crimson eyes glowed brightly in contrast to his blue.

Anakin Stormrunner Anakin Stormrunner
 

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