Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public Bad Day, Good Week

Val Shyra

Guest
The target was on the move. Val Shyra watched the Twi'lek step out of his workshop, sweat and grease still dripping from his blue skin. A small cut could be seen at the corner of the mans mouth, and the slight protrusion of a concealed blaster could barely be made out. All of these things were filed away in the back of the young Mandalorians mind as he watched, his helmets visor glowing a feint red as he shifted through various settings. His hand rested lightly on the blaster pistol holstered at his side, primed and humming with power, as eager for violence as its owner.

The Twi'lek was named Odan Kar, a rather minor Crime Lord in the grand scheme of the galaxy with influence only on Rothana. He had made a name for himself using customized weaponry he made in his own shop on anyone who refused to pay for his protection. An innocent family had learned that lesson the hard way when Odan and his men showed up one day. Only the daughter had survived what the Twi'lek and his men had done, and she had offered Val everything they had left to take the scum down. He had refused the payment, but swore a personal oath to that girl that Odan would pay. Val had found the crime boss earlier that day, and had waited a few hours for the man to leave. He did not know what was in that workshop, or who else was there, but now the target was in the streets. He was vulnerable.

He was as good as dead.

Drawing the blaster at his side, Val took a step back from the window he had been standing in front of. The two story warehouse had offered him the best viewpoint for the past few hours, and it was situated directly above the Twi'leks' personal speeder. Taking a few deep breaths, Val sprinted towards the window. Just before hitting it, he fired a single shot from his blaster, the crimson bolt shattering the window into millions of pieces as the Mandalorian flew through the new opening. He plummeted towards the ground below, the blue cloak around his shoulders billowing out behind him. He slammed feet first into the hood of the crime lords speeder, crumbling the hood in with a sickening screech of steel. Val felt the impact through his armor, but he did not let himself dwell on it long as he looked up. In the dimly lit streets of Rothana this late at night, all Odan would see at first would be the glowing red visor of Val's helmet as he rose from the crouch he had landed in.

"Odan Kar, for your evil actions against the people of Rothana, I have come to..." Val's well planned and rehearsed speech died on his lips as a blaster bolt slammed into his chest. He stumbled backwards, slammed into the speeder as smoke rose from the scorched mark on his chest. It had been fired from a hold out pistol, not strong enough to pierce the Beskar he wore. Looking back up, for the first time Val realized Odan was not shocked. He had expected a look of fear on the man's face, it was why he had planned his entrance the way he did. Instead, he was face to face with a man gripped by pure rage.

"You know how much that speeder cost me? You are gonna pay for every credit!" Raising the pistol, the Twi'lek tensed to pull the trigger. Thinking quickly, Val flung himself backwards. He rolled over the hood of the speeder, blaster bolts streaking through the air where he had been a moment before. He slammed into the ground hard, the wind pouring from his lungs. Shoving himself back upright, Val fired a few wild shots over the hood of the car, not hitting anything. Through the blaster fire, he heard the sound of running voices and shouting men and women. Glancing around the side of the speeder, Val spotted several of Odan's goons running from the still open doors of the workshop. They were all armed with makeshift blaster weapons, but the bruise on his chest told Val all he needed to know. Grunting, he lowered himself into a better sitting position, drawing a second blaster from his other hip.

Things were not going as he had planned them to.
 
Location: Rothana , Mechanic's Garage
Objective: Acquire Bounty Target
ROE: Variable
Equipment: Herself , 2x HK CP-01's (Fitted with 30-round magazines, explosive, and Hollow Point munitions loaded respectively) , 1x Shiva Knife

Iella was walking down the street, still trying to lick just a bit of blood from under her fingernail. Spitting out the coppery taste, she rubbed her finger against her spacer vest; head snapping about to find the garage in question. Her own directives weren't too far off from anyone else's that were after this individual. Though in her case, that bounty was tripled if the target was alive enough to be taught a lesson. She didn't ask what it was. Her specific contract being with the Hutts, she had learned it was so much better to not know too much when working with the slugs. Iella turned another corner, coming to a stop, and letting her Optical Implants quickly take a scan of the area, and situation in front of her. Snapping onto the Twi'Lek with a grin.


"That was easy..."

She smirked, taking a few steps, and frowning as another target entered the fray. She didn't need augmented eyes to know what she was looking at a Mandalorian; and swallowed once. Please don't be here for the Twi'Lek... Please don't be here for the Twi'Lek.... Pl-.. He verbally engaged the other, and she moved to stand on the wall, putting her foot up; her visage easily mixing into being someone that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She watched, and winced as the Twi'Lek blasted the Mandalorian right in the chest, left hand moving back to grasp at the slug-thrower that was resting in the interior holster stitched into her pants. The weapon she was holding held explosive rounds; not super explosive, but they would take a chunk out of someone, or hurt if they landed too close to an unarmored target. As such, she still didn't engage. Technically the Mando had gotten there first, and there was at least some sort of honor amongst good Bounty Hunters; that being said, she had no reason to help him... Yet. Plus, he was a Mandalorian; she suddenly remembered she had to send a message to Breshig War Forge at some point, she had definitely paid them for a ship she had yet to receive.

Perhaps that also factored into her choice to not provide support. Instead as the several other combatants joined the fray, she raised her right hand, scratching at her temple, before noting a chair. With that, she took a few tentative steps to her left, sliding into a sitting position; and put both feet up on a table as she watched the show. She wished there was someone there to bet with... She had some credits to blow. She had one-thousand on the Mandalorian....

Val Shyra
 

Zeda Wyr'Anari

Guest
://ROTHANA
://See Bio for Augments and basic gear

There were always those moments in life that you would look back and question whoever said to not cry over spilt milk. For Zeda, this looked to be turning into one of those days.

She was in system dropping off a load of ores and rare minerals for the local Kuat Drive Yards facility, so she decided to take the detour and expense to come to one of her favorite hole-in-the-wall cafes. She had just been sitting down to her hot caf sweetened with whelmer milk when someone decided to jump out of a perfectly nice window just down the street. The being in what looked to be armor seemed to be talking to the Twi'lek in front of him when the Twi'lek pulled out a blaster and just shot the man.

"What is this, Nal Hutta?" She asked no one in particular when a blaster bolt pierced the window she'd been sitting at and shattered the steaming mug in her hands. Only her enhanced reflexes saved her from getting more than a bit singed.

Sometimes it is perfectly ok to cry over spilt milk.

But only after you curb stomp the marking fether who spilled it.

She went through the now open window in a forward roll, slamming into the side of a parked hover truck with her shoulder as she pulled her BAW-56 Blaster Pistol from the holster on her side. Her computer systems analyzed the scene she'd been watching, identifying the Twi'lek as a particularly nasty crime boss. The amount of guilt she'd feel for stepping on his neck was going ever lower. With a flick of her eyes she brought up an augmented reality HUD overlay before her eyes, quickly switching to a mode she rarely used, filtering information to the bare minimum she'd need to be in combat and nothing more. She popped up from the cover that the hover-truck provided, she didn't think anyone would be shooting at her just yet, but it was always best to be safer than sorry. That was when she saw several thugs coming up on where the armored being, a Mandalorian from the looks, was hunkered down. Stray blaster bolts from the thugs peppered the street.

She decided to take a risk, and sprinted from the cover of the hover-truck towards a plinth that was carved from stone and showed the names of the nearby businesses. She skidded to a stop behind it, a couple of blaster bolts came her way but went wide. Her fast movements drew the eye of some of the thugs, but the lack of return fire made them turn back to firing at the Mandalorian.

She waited a moment, then popped up, firing her relatively under powered pistol at the nearest two thugs. Her first shot, fired while she was still turning her body, hit an armored pauldron on the nearest goon. Her second and third shots went into chest and throat, the latter luckily hitting a place where the gorget should have been, and leaving a hollow burn mark where the vocal folds had been. Her fourth and fifth shots bled into the helmet and upper chest of the next closest, who was turning toward her with his much heavier blaster. Zeda ducked down, scooting around the plinth to not be where they might expect her to be. Her HUD overlay showed the crime lord still shooting at the Mandalorian from near the speeder across the street. There were a few thugs between her and Odan, and she started thinking of how she could get the Mandalorian to pay her back for helping him out.

Even if she really joined over the expensive cup of caf the thug accidentally cost her.
 

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