Public Day of Reckoning | ATTN: Sith and Bounty Hunters

[Pyrrah Tae]

Hoth | Hidden Stashhouse

Bounty
----------------​

The Galactic Planeshift had affected many all across the galaxy.

The pirate king of The Exchange was one such individual. When the Sith invaded the planet of Corva Yag many years ago, the criminal organization was forced to relocate all of their assets. Years of accumulation destroyed by the tyranny of the Sith. The black market that the man was running most definitely took a hit, which was very unfortunate for business. But now, all of these years later, the stars realigned. Corva Yag no longer fell into the systems controlled by dark lords.

However, one problem remained. A large stashhouse that was operated by the syndicate resided on the planet Hoth. The icy wasteland was outside of the Sith's control. Now, in recent astronomical events, the world was under their control. It would only be a matter of time before they discovered the hidden collection of goods and technology, claiming them for their own. Pyrrah could not let that happen.

Managing to locate a pathway through the Blackwall, a small fleet of Exchange vessels landing on the snowy surface. Four carrier corvettes, one container transport, and two squadrons of TIEs. The group was to evacuate every single item from the stashhouse, leaving only dust and snow behind. Once loaded, the fleet would return to the recently reclaimed Corva Yag.

Pyrrah oversaw the whole operation as the men got to work. He barked orders, ensuring they stayed on schedule. That was until one of his advisors approached. A datapad was handed to the pirate as a hint of worry began to creep onto his face.

"How recent was this?"

The advisor, keeping his head down, replied in a sorrowful tone.

"One hour ago. And my lord...there has been a signature detected emerging from hyperspace."

Handing the datapad back, Pyrrah looked out upon the operation. There was still so much left to load, yet so little time. Upon the screen was a bounty notice - dead only. For a very hefty sum of credits. Somehow the Sith knew that he was here, on Hoth, and decided to strike. Soon there would be numerous dark lord and bounty hunters on the surface to try and claim his life.

"Move your asses! We are running out of time, get those crates loaded NOW!"

Spoiler: OOC

This will be my final thread with Pyrrah before I kill him off, making way for a new character. However, the bounty won't be collected easily. Try your luck on claiming the life of the pirate king, or take a chance trying to steal some of The Exchange's technology!

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Pyrrah Tae
​

Drego hadn't been a true bounty hunter in a long time. Despite the era of galactic chaos ruling, bounties were hard to come by. But pirates were one that kept the guilds well fed.

He'd kept an eye on this one, even before the bounty was posted. He wasn't in it for the money, not entirely. Even without a bounty, dead pirates would be get you a decent amount of credits if you could prove they were. He had done his homework. Tracked the crew back behind the Blackwall.

That was when things got tricky. He knew a way through it, a little trip to Polis Masa and sneaking through their lowered defenses. But from there, it was a matter of stealth. Tracking them back to Hoth. Avoiding Sith patrols. Shadowing their fleet.

But he had done it. He had done it all, without a word.

He had taken the effort to land his own ship far enough away to keep out of sensor scans.

The only downside?

It meant he had to walk several hundred miles. He had planned it. Hunted Wampa to keep fed. Trekked during the night, during blizzards, kept himself hidden during their patrols.

But he was upon them.

"Tanya, prep the Ayahada. I'll need a quick exit once this pops off."

<Gotcha Boss. I'll have it inboard, ETA 9 minutes.>

High above, on a snow drift, Drego had positioned himself, waiting for the right moment to strike. Something had exited hyperspace, looking to take his kill.

Without a word, Drego aimed his battle rifle's grenade launcher. Three shots. The first one, a thermal detonator rigged to be a large enough boom to blow a whole right through heavy starship armor, aimed right into the cockpit of one of those frigates. The pop of the launcher launched it right at the target, before he took the next shot. A specially made smoke grenade, right into the center of their operation. Rather than the slow cloud of smoke, the grenade exploded in the cold, filling the entire battlefield with a cloud thick enough to blind anyone.

Then the final one.

An EMP, right dead center. Illegally modified to take down Imperial Walkers.

Then he charged.

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

...they never saw it did they?
↳ greedGREEDgreedgreed
— dripping from their eyes —
[malice] in the smiles | in the silence
❚ contempt like rust ❚
⤷ over everything good.

STUBBORNNESS is not strength
STUBBORNNESS is a mask—​

they hide in it > they rot in it

✖ no more order
✖ no more logic
✖ just hate and hunger and control

GREED MALICE CONTEMPT
echoing in the tunnels
(can't sleep, can't breathe)

░░░ he lies. they always lie. ░░░

//system breach? or truth?

LOOMING DEATH FROM AFAR

Drego Ruus l Pyrrah Tae​

He was vicious. He was effective, he was ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓ :: VIOLENT :: ▓▓▓ ▓▓▓
░░░ "They'll all burn when the silence breaks." ░░░ .

The madness had come back in spurts. Damn virus.

He shook his head. He was a patient, waiting fellow. The heavy rifle lay against his shoulder. He was roughly 500 meters away, give or take. The rangefinder put him at 516. He consulted his HUD, identifying a markup of the caliber and bullet weight for a windage chart. He took into account many things about the planet, the drag factor of the gravity- higher on some planets, lower on others. The angle of the wind- determined by his wind gauge laying next to him, told him the angle, the speed of the wind, which direction, and predicted gusts based on inputs and local telemetry and averages.

Hoth was windy and cold, but consistent. Save for the spurts of storms, there wasn't much to worry about the wind gusting. It allowed for steady, constant shots. Or at least, more predictable. His scope helped, measuring in mills and windage electronically- although it was etched into the glass of the rifle, should any electronics fail.

He breathed deeply, laying in the snow, covered by a white-mesh cloth that prevented thermals and other sensors from picking him up. It wasn't terribly advanced technology, in fact, it was simply a white sheet interwoven with armorweave to prevent thermals from picking up Fenn more than anything else. And thus far, it had worked. He had been here for a while now, and was patiently waiting. He knew the target, he knew where'd he be, and he knew what would draw him out:

Greed.

The target could've, and perhaps should've, abandoned his endeavor here and simply escaped. Goods and materials could be recovered quickly, credits not so much- but those were far easier to transport. But the folly of the so-called Pirate King would be his downfall, his greed and stubbornness to let things go would be his end.

However, there was another here- clearly not on his side, as he was foolish and reckless with his assault. A full frontal assault on a stationary target was not a smart move, and Fenn could only passively observe. His scope only turned slightly away, eyeing the new player: recognizing his armor even from afar, although the scope more than provided a clear picture. He knew the Mandalorian.

He just didn't know he was that stupid and reckless.

His scope clicked as he switched to thermals, eyeing through the thick cloud that the idiot had made. He went back to tracking his target. Quietly, silently, Fenn scanned for his target once more, who no doubt had moved. He only needed one shot.... not a symphony of destruction like that fool had caused.

Breath in, breath out.

Fenn was a patient man.

Fenn was a good shot.

Fenn was a deadly man.

 

[Pyrrah Tae]

Drego Ruus | Fenn Stag
----------------​

Shrapnel flying in all directions was the first thing the pirate noticed.

He had no idea where the explosive had come from. The weapon made direct contact with one of the carrier corvettes, blowing it to smithereens. The remainder of the hull collapsed forward, crushing the snow mounds underneath. Before the crew even had time to react and salvage what they could, a second explosive entered into the open compound. This time, smoke quickly filled the surrounding area. Soon Pyrrah lost track of the operation. His men stayed loyal though, hustling to load any final crates that were left.

The third explosive, however, was the deadliest. From the small device shot out thousands of tiny electrical ways, disrupting every device in its path. Two of the carrier corvettes were directly impacted as black smoke began to seep out from the exhaust ports. The container transport was thankfully out of range. Multiple TIEs were now out of commission, which was less than ideal.

"Get the container transport into the air immediately! I want six TIEs alongside, defending the vessel. Any starfighters left, go find where those explosives came from!"

Scrambling once again, the crew got to work on their next set of orders. In under a minute, the TIEs were in the air. However, the transport ship still needed a few minutes before it would be ready for flight. This meant that only a squadron of starfighters would be out searching for the group brave enough to attack the pirate.

Suddenly, the crime lord's senses heightened. Something, no...someone was targeting him. Unclipping the lightsaber from his belt, the man ignited the weapon as its golden blade illuminated the nearby snow. While unsure of where this new opponent was, Pyrrah was not going to go down without a fight.

 

[Fenn Stag]

Watching, waiting.

Pyrrah Tae l Drego Ruus

Interesting.
​

His eyes were instantly drawn to the lightsaber. While he lost the target initially in the scuffle, his eyes, even unaided, saw the flash of light. A stark contrast to the bright-white, the shimmering gold beam erupting from the hilt drew Fenn's eye towards his target.

And ultimately, the scope of the weapon onto his target.

He drew a breath in, steadying himself. He calculated the distance again, for good measure. 526 meters. Not much farther than his initial assessment. Just slightly more so. His HUD ID'D the man instantly. Data rolled across, but he disregarded it with a flick of his eye inside his helmet. He heard it first, but didn't move. It would be foolish to.

Engines coming in fast. Loud, low, fast.

Starfighters, speeders maybe. He was hidden, but any sudden movement would mean death to him, or at least, targeting. He steadied his breathing, focusing on the man with the lightsaber, his target. He had but just a few openings, windows of opportunity. He'd make a mistake, a fatal one. Turn the wrong way, disengage, try to run.

And Fenn would take his chance.

He was still.

He was silent.

He was patient.

He was death incarnate, looming over the would-be pirate king.

 

[Drego Ruus]

"Retreat? Hell, we just got here!" ~ Captain Lloyd W. Williams, 1918

Tag: Pyrrah Tae
​

The run down was always the most anxiety inducing. Bounding through heavy snow, the only reason he didn't get stuck was the repuslorlifts in his boots doing their job. Putting his battle rifle on his back, it had done it's job. He needed the element of surprise. Thankfully, the smoke grenade had done it's job in concealing his blitz down the hill.

Instead, he drew two new implements. His shotgun, and his shield, breaking the latter in two as it had been designed to do, attaching each half to an arm, the near ton of metal hanging off his arms now ready to act as both offense and defense.

And he didn't wait a moment to use it. Every step was careful. Every movement silent. Only the crunch of snow, and the sudden ferocity of his shield coming down on those in his way. Even with all this commotion, Drego was fixated on his target. Back when he was on top of the hill, he had pinged Pyrrah's heat signature within his HUD, before the commotion had started. Now, he tracked him through the crowd.

But still, it was a crowd. He'd need to wade through it all, and he did so by only engaging those who engaged him first. With all the commotion, it was easy to slip into the crowd at first, but those who got too close were quick to realize he wasn't one of their own. In which case, he didn't bother unless they tried to engage in melee. Blaster rounds pinged off his armor, and only one poor bastard was unfortunate enough to try and charge him with a bayonet, only to be parried, and shield bashed.

50 meters. That's how far he was to his target when he was forced to engage the crazed melee victim. He couldn't risk Pyrrah running.

Raising his right arm, he aimed the single shot grenade launcher from his vambrace.

And from it, a glue grenade, aimed right at his feet.