Faction (Black Sun, Sith Order) Primeday Night Firefight

[Haro Aven]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE: Vestra Tane | Xeykard | Koda Fett | Arris Windrun ​

SITH ORDER: Lysander von Ascania | Naamino Zuukamano | Leshanna Dromar | Varin Mortifer | Soah Ty’Jyn | Avarice | Mercy ​

Just as Haro was about to resort to using his blaster, the Baselisk pulled up short. Distracted first by Lysander's taunt, the big man was prepared for the attack even as he tensed against the potent electrical pulse that lanced through him. Much to Haro's dismay, it wasn't enough to knock the bouncer out. He heard the Baselisk's fist connect with Lysander's face, then the baton clatter to the floor.
​

"Chit," Haro hissed through clenched teeth.

Enraged at being electrocuted, the bouncer turned his back on Haro to either go for his weapon or finish off the blonde or both. Before he could do either, Haro leaped onto his back, long limbs wrapping tightly about the big man's body in an effort to secure a headlock. The Baselisk tried to tear the boy off him or hit him hard enough to knock him loose but couldn't get a good angle. Even so, those huge fists hurt like all hells, but the lanky boy hunkered down and clung tightly, cinching his arms tighter in an effort to restrict blood flow.

"Hit him! Hit him agOOF--" Haro's words where cut short as the bouncer backed up and crushed him between himself and the durasteel wall of the corridor. All the air rushed from Haro's lungs and his grip loosened. Luckily his armor prevented his ribs from cracking beneath the pressure, but his vision still swam with stars. The struggle left the Baselisk wide open momentarily as he too recovered from the brief but effective chokehold.​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Haro Aven Leshanna Dromar Soah Ty’Jyn Varin Mortifer Naamino Zuukamano Mercy Vestra Tane Xeykard

​

The Besalisk’s blow struck like a meteor. Any light that entered the tunnel smeared into streaks, and shadows clouded his vision.

Lysander’s shoulder clipped the wall, his eye already swelling shut, vision narrowing to a tight slit. Each twitch of his brow sent a fresh ache through the socket, sharp as a pinched nerve.

“Feth me..” The words slipped out through gritted teeth.

Through the blur, his sights landed on Haro. The Captain was wrapped around the bouncer’s upper body like a nexu, locked in a chokehold. Then the brute slammed him back into the wall. Lysander’s breath wrenched in his chest. Not just from the impact, but from the pain on Haro’s face.

That hit something deeper.

His faint touch brushed against the lightsaber, then stopped. Even if it felt like he was still present in another dimension, he knew better. There were too many limbs entangled.

Instead, his hand found the vibro-shiv tucked away on the utility belt. He remembered grabbing it from his locker on the ship along with the glitterstim, though he figured it would've served more as a talisman rather than a weapon. Maybe it was even a strange tether to something familiar as he stepped into this foreign world.

A second later, that small blade was humming in his grip as he closed the distance with quick strides. His fingers curled around it tightly as he avoided the bouncer’s wild swings. “Cover his mouth or something!” he called with that effortless banter that came naturally to him.. except this time, it wasn’t funny. Not when one roar was enough to bring every gorram bouncer in the venue down on them.

Whether still in his bard phase or his mind was simply filled with favorite lines of holodramas while high, he wasn’t sure. But somehow it prompted the romantic iambic prose as he went to work. Rapid and precise bursts targeted flank as if it were a pincushion.

“Strike true, lest all the stadium descend on us! The stars and moons bear witness to thy waning strength!”

The brute jerked with every single hit. Crimson droplets flecked Lysander’s cheeks and tunic, streaked the wall, and splattered all across the floor.

His outfit was wrecked, and that pissed him off even more. Not ideal when he planned to blow credits on a Twi'lek with hips that could crash hyperspace lanes. He only had one chance before departure.

And through the motions, at one point, he glanced up with his one good eye to Haro clinging like his life depended on it.

 

[Haro Aven]

BLACK SUN SYNDICATE: Xeykard | Koda Fett | Arris Windrun ​

SITH ORDER: Lysander von Ascania | Naamino Zuukamano | Leshanna Dromar | Varin Mortifer | Soah Ty’Jyn | Avarice | Mercy ​

​

Just as Haro was beginning to regain his breath, he heard Lysander say something about covering his mouth. Though unexpected and perhaps out of place, the poetry that followed had a preternatural bolstering effect on Haro, inspiring him to gather his wits and reaffirm his grip around the bouncer's neck in order to choke out any cry that might compromise them. It wasn't until the Baselisk began spasming in his grasp that Haro actually registered what Lysander was doing. The blonde had in fact not picked up the electrobaton and instead opted to lay into the big man with a vibro-shiv like a prize balloon on a name day celebration. Blood spurted every which way, splattering across Haro's face, but he shoved down his inclination to wretch and held firm, knowing that anything less than total commitment at this point was extremely dangerous.

After what felt like an eternity, the bouncer finally began to lose consciousness. Haro quickly slipped off his back and out of the way before the Baselisk slumped against the wall and tumbled to the durasteel floor with a thud. For a couple panting breaths, he just stared at the dead man, his face a mask of concern.

"Dude..." He muttered incredulously. Then he looked at Lysander and his concern escalated tenfold. "DUDE. You're covered in--why did you--" He tried to verbalize a few panicked thoughts at the same time before he stopped himself and held his hands out before him, open palmed, as if the motion would help him calm down and focus.

"Okay... we need to get him out of here." He said in a far calmer tone than he felt, glancing around the dimly lit hallway. Hopping over the bouncer's sprawled leg, he trotted over to a control panel on the wall nearby and took out his slicer spike. His suspicions were soon confirmed when a part of the wall slid away to reveal what appeared to be arms storage. His eyes went wide as he took in the shelves and racks full of various blasters and explosives. He quickly snatched a couple of smoke grenades and a thermal detonator before he returned to the bouncer and motioned for Lysander to help him move the heavy man into the room.

Once the bouncer was tucked away out of sight, Haro closed the door to the storage room and headed down the hall toward the entrance to the lounge, wiping the blood from his face uncomfortably.

"Okay, just... follow my lead. I think I have an idea. You've got the stuff, right?" Haro asked his friend, referring to the spice Lysander told him he was supposed to deliver to someone named Vestra Tane .​

 

[Leshanna Dromar]

Tags: Naamino Zuukamano // Haro Aven // Varin Mortifer // Soah Ty’Jyn // Avarice // Lysander von Ascania
Mercy // Xeykard // Koda Fett // Arris Windrun ​

Varin clearly didn’t need any more encouragement; almost as soon as the words left her mouth, he was pushing through the crowd before he hopped into the ring itself. Leshanna was right on his heels, using the space he had created to get to the divider that separated the crowd from the ring. Soah was right there too, vaulting into the ring as Varin drew the attention of the one who had beaten Naamino into a bloody pulp.

Soah wasted no time, vaulting into the ring to reach Naami as Leshanna waited up top. There was not much she could do in the ring, so she elected to stay out of the way and tend to Naami when he was back with her. From her view, she could see just how horribly the Zabrak warrior had been beaten.

Naami truly was a pitiful sight; Leshanna had never seen him so bruised and battered and bloodied before, and this truly shocked her. A glance over told her the reason behind why he had been so thoroughly beaten - he was wearing a Force suppression anklet. Her rage ignited further as she shot a fierce and truly dark look towards his attacker, who was now engaging Varin. A low growl rumbled through Leshanna’s chest and throat as her vision tinged red.

Someone nearby threw something at Soah while she was still in the ring, and her now corrupted eyes snapped towards the individual in the crowd. She didn’t hesitate - she twisted her hand as if gripping something and used the Force to wrap around the man’s throat - crushing it with a single flex of her fist. Before she could unleash her desire to murder every single one of these low life’s, Soah had already grabbed Naamino and had hauled his massive body up and had Force jumped back to where Lesh was waiting.

"We need to go," Soah said in a flat and pointed tone to her, and Lesh gave a single curt nod in agreement. She reached up to open the comms to tell the others they had retrieved Naami and were making their way back to the ship when several members of the crowd stepped in to impede their retreat. Someone grabbed Leshanna by the arm and tried to force her into the ring, and she responded by turning around and punching the man so hard in the face that his head snapped back and he dropped to the ground, unmoving and silent.

“Anyone else want to kark with me?” she snarled at those around her, fists clenched tightly, one of which was bloodied. No one moved immediately, but she could sense the tension growing in the air. It was only a matter of time before others tried to assault her and Soah for their own amusement. She almost wanted it to happen, if only to have the excuse to release some of this pent up rage and violence that boiled just under her skin.

Leshanna turned golden eyes towards the Felacatian acolyte and jerked her head as if to say ‘lets get going’, before she finally opened up their comms to reach the others. She hoped they were doing alright with their side of the plans.

-“Team Retribution to Team Rizzler - we have Horns. Rendezvous at the ship stat.”- she said, her voice tight and filled with tension, before she looked back into the ring. “VARIN! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE!” she snapped. She then turned her attention back to Soah, “Alright, let’s get the kark out of here. You got him?” She inquired, though she didn't really wait around for the Felacatian to respond...she was shoving her way through the crowd and making room, eagerly throwing fists into those who dared to try and impede her pathway. She'd do this, and much more, to protect one of her own and Naami needed her now more than ever and she wasn't going to fail him here. If she had to kill a dozen or more people to get him to medical aid, then by Bogan she would do so and gladly.

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

More than a little disoriented, the zabrak grunted painfully as he was hoisted and hauled out of the ring suddenly. His wounds were already starting to swell a bit, making his movements stiff and aching.

Once laid upon the ground, Naami wasted no time in pushing himself up. It was clumsy and staggering, the teen's chest protested terribly where surely a few broken ribs now nestled. But Leshanna's voice bolstered him, gave him the strength to push through and stand— he'd be a disgrace if he couldn't help her fight their way out.

Fists clenched, back hunched a bit from pain, the zabrak rose to his feet with a cough that resulted in him spitting up a glob of blood. The act of standing made his head spin and Naami had to grit his teeth against the nauseating effect.

"Weapons? M'not able to call the Force— need something as backup."

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Leshanna Dromar Naamino Zuukamano Varin Mortifer Haro Aven Mercy Lysander von Ascania

Soah kept her grip on Naamino until he steadied, her expression unreadable as the crowd pressed in around them even as the scents made her grimace internally. Shouts, hot breath, the scrape of boots against metal, all of it blurred to background noise. All the while amber eyes stayed locked on the Zabrak, unblinking, the way a predator watches wounded prey to decide if it will stand or fall.

In the distance, Leshanna's voice rang out, followed by the sharp crack of bone against bone. The pit was turning into chaos and it was getting complicated.

Soah didn't like complicated.

Nubs coughed out that he needed a weapon, and Soah's fingers moved before thought finished. The ink along her forearm writhed, slick and deliberate, until it wrapped her hand like an inky glove. She took the double bladed saber Kasir had given her and shoved it into Naami's grip.

"Use it," she told him, brisk and sharp. No softening in her voice. Just command.

Someone lunged. Soah tilted her head, almost curious, braids brushing along her shoulders and back before she gave a flick of her fingers. The Force rippled outward like a silent whip, catching the attacker in the chest and snapping him onto the pit rail with a hollow thud. The crowd recoiled for a breath as unease cut through the noise.

Then came the massive cheer! Bets began to sling to bookies left and right, some betting on Lesh, others on Soah.

Through it all, the Acolyte took a calm and unnerving step forward as razor-sharp claws that could shred durasteel slid from her fingertips with a slow and delibrate inevitability. Pain licked at her nerves, but her face betrayed nothing.

No she welcomed it.

"Make this quick." she told them all in an almost detached tone as though she were already certain how the next moments would end. Her ink crawled up her neck, painting shadow across her collarbone. The single eye tattoo on her shoulder slid, blinked, and fixed on the nearest bookie. He made a wrong noise and his beer splashed down his chest. He thought it was bad luck.

He wasn't wrong.

For in the next moment, Soah began to literally carve a path through any unfortunate individual who came in front of her.