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.

 

[Pyrrah Tae]

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

Blasterfire erupted from the nearby guards.

Through the smoke, his soldiers began rushing in to meet an unseen yet quickly approaching threat. His golden lightsaber has raised in a defensive position, preparing to take on any attacker. It sounded as if this mysterious infiltrator was tearing through his men...which was less than ideal.

In the background, the container transport began to slowly raise off of the ground, accompanied by the six TIEs. The remaining starfighers continued to circle the surrounding area, searching for anyone brave or stupid enough to attempt a strike on the pirate. Screaming by, it would only be a matter of time before the pilots located the enemy.

Suddenly, bursting through the smoke, Pyrrah spotted a grenade. It was spotted too late. The man tried to use the Force to send the device hurtling in the other direction, but it was no use. Soon it exploded, trapping his right foot in a glue trap.

"Dammit!"

Grunting in frustration, the man lowered his lightsaber blade to the residue, attempting to cut his leg free. But this unfortunately left him vulnerable.

 

[Fenn Stag]

ROOSTER

Pyrrah Tae l Drego Ruus


​

Windage, gusting, right to left. Less than twelve knots.

Humidity, not a factor. Too dry.​

Air temperature at this range didn't affect drop or curvature.

No coriolis effect at this range to account for.

No drop to consider, the angle was downwards.
Position still undiscovered. No need to change position.
​

He stopped moving. He was stuck.
​

Very stuck. Some type of explosive device caused him to stop moving. Fenn already had a bead on him. He blinked, steadying himself. He let out a slow breath, looking for the natural pause in his breathing to place his shot at. The lightsaber went down and he only had a few seconds to act on his window of opportunity.

He took the slack out of the trigger, aiming squarely for the Pirate's head.

At this range, Fenn could knock a coin off a windowsill.

A headshot was not just for show or for the factor of cool- armor was a constant concern, even for his heavier caliber rifle. He blinked a few times, making sure the target's head was in focus. It got chillingly still on the makeshift battlefield for that half a second. No wind. No noise, just briefly. Just the cold, icy fingers of death reaching out to the pirate king. Death loomed over the pirate king- that much he could probably tell.

However, he probably wouldn't hear the shot that was going to end him.

Fenn pulled more slack out of the trigger, steady, slow, precise.

The rifle went off, a sharp crack-

And the round went straight for the Pirate King's head.

 

[Pyrrah Tae]

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

The deafening was the first thing the pirate noticed.

Not silence from the men and machines around him. He could still see they were making noise. He could feel it through the vibrations. But there was no noise. The man heard nothing. The world held a quiet tone unlike anything he ever knew.

Next was the pain. The pain of the left side of his face missing. His ear. His eye. His skull. Shattered and torn, a fate sealed by the bullet. One that was unseen. One that he could not predict or feel through the Force. One that was suddenly there. A fraction of a second and everything changed.

Though through of all this, something was still missing. That feeling of death. Finalization. A final word on the book of his life. No...his story was not over yet. But it was not his choice. Pain scorched his entire body, leaving him in agony. Yet he could not scream. There was no reason to. Torturous misery flowed in his veins, but he was alive. The Force kept him this way. His purpose was not finalized yet. Pyrrah's clock was expiring soon. This day too. That he was certain of. But not yet. The Force was not done with him.

Blood began to drip from his fractured skull, pooling on top of the freshly fallen snow. The pirate stood still, gazing out upon the landscape. His men were still busy trying to locate the first attacker, so they did not notice him standing there. Golden hues of light from his blade began to sizzle as the drops soon began to fall on the weapon, evaporating within seconds. He was no longer alive. A spirit living within decaying flesh. Yet the Netherworld was still out of reach. A key to that doorway was still hidden.

Slowly, the man turned his head in the direction of the sniper previously unseen. Pyrrah stared at the warrior through his scope. There he was, just behind the snowbank. Without looking away, the pirate began to mindlessly cut away at the glue on his foot. No...not just the glue. The whole front of the foot was soon met with the burning heat from the blade. Through flesh and bone. With a tug, the pirate tugged his foot free from the trap, blood pouring out of his left leg. There was no emotion. Only fury, through the Force.

That is when he broke out in a dead sprint towards the sniper.

 

[Drego Ruus]

Tag: Pyrrah Tae Fenn Stag
​

A shot.

Half his target's face was gone, and Drego knew he wasn't alone in this hunt. If whomever had taken that shot had reached out, he probably would've split it down the middle. Not every day a pirate lord's bounty comes up.

And yet, the pirate lord still stood. Spriting at the fellow hunter's position, seeming to ignore Drego himself.

Without a thought, Drego blitzed forward. Another skull cracked along the way with his shield, and a man now missing his chest cavity as he unloaded a round of buckshot into it. Drego didn't have time for distractions. Yet, more came. This wasn't about stealth anymore. It was about claiming his prize. A big motherfarker got in his way, only for Drego to raise an arm, and unload his single shot disruptor into him, the brute turned to dust.

He needed to slow the pirate down. A man capable of walking off a slug round to the face was clearly not gonna go down without a fight. With a thought, three double-sized whistling birds launched from his warpack, screaming towards Pyrrah. Drego knew they wouldn't take him down, but Drego just wanted to close the distance. 30 meters. That's all he needed to close.

He could probably hit him with his shotgun from this range, but he wanted to close the distance. He wanted to guarantee the kill.

 

[Pyrrah Tae]

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

The sprint did not stop.

He would reach the shooter if it was the last thing he did. The pirate was too strong to be defeated like this. Too prideful. His entire empire built up across decades of work. It would not end like this. The Exchange would continue on.

Blinded by rage, Pyrrah did not sense the whistling birds quickly approaching. The first one made contact with his lightsaber, throwing the man to the ground by the explosion. Now laying in the snow, the second bird was narrowly deflected by the golden blade. It was the third one though...the one that got him. The bird struck his left arm, causing flesh and blood to spray out. The entire upper left half of his body was in shambles.

"RAAAAHH!"

All he could do was scream in a wild frenzy. The Force had almost fully taken over. The pirate was ready to die. He wanted to die. Maybe it was a sick, cruel joke the Whills were playing on him. Revenge for all the lives of Force-sensitives he had taken. Was this his punishment?

Continuing to bleed out, Pyrrah stood for a final time. Facing the man who fired the birds, the crime lord stood his ground in a defensive position. His lightsaber stayed raised and ready, preparing for one last fight.

 

[Lachadann]

Long after Lachadann found a way to put on winter boots and coat and set out through the snow, she still had no idea whether she'd come to kill Pyrrah Tae or try to save him. He'd seemed friendly and accommodating when she'd done business with him briefly. Was that — and a pirate king's favor — enough reason to pass up a shot at a prize and a name? Maybe, to be honest. She'd gone back and forth.

In the background, the container transport began to slowly raise off of the ground, accompanied by the six TIEs. The remaining starfighers continued to circle the surrounding area, searching for anyone brave or stupid enough to attempt a strike on the pirate.

In a Hoth crag, she kept out of the starfighters' line of sight and used macrobinoculars. The situation over there was flashy and brutal and seemed well on its way to a conclusion.

She readied her charric rifle but didn't pick a target.

 

[Fenn Stag]

THE REAPER COMES

Pyrrah Tae l Drego Ruus l Lachadann (????)

"Hm."

Which was Fenn's way of saying "impressive".

He said, chambering another round into the rifle. The bastard not only lived with half a head- a clear sign that he was going to die sooner rather than later. Force or no force, death was looming over the pirate lord.

And he was barreling towards Fenn.

Uphill and roughly 500 meters away, Fenn still liked his chances. He was still hidden to the others as far as he knew, and he doubted the Pirate had time to enact any sort of response to his location or callout. He took another slow breath, training his rifle back onto the approaching pirate.

Squeeze, trigger pull, recoil.

He racked the rifle again.

The wind picked up. He lead the moving target just a foot or so, just to be sure.

Squeeze, trigger pull, recoil.

Another shot. Well-placed. Center mass.

A slug thrower round going roughly 3000 feet per second- give or take, at this range. Probably a little faster.

 

[Pyrrah Tae]

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

A pierced lung and a broken heart.

Turning away from the sniper had been his downfall. Two slugs nailed him directly, stealing any breath of life that Pyrrah had left. His face held an emotionless expression. A sight that almost made him look content. There was no more coughing up blood. There was no more screaming in agony. The pirate was silent. The only noise that filled the air was the rustling of a cold breeze.

Slowly, the man fell to his knees, resting in the snow. His lightsaber dropped to the ground, the golden blade retracting into the hilt. The one eye that was still left looked off into the distance, watching as the last transport began to rise into the atmosphere. His legacy...his purpose...they needed to be continued by someone. The pirate and Bodan had created a plan for this if either of them were to die. They were business partners after all.

Memories began to flood the man. There were very few things that he regretted in life. He no longer had any relatives. Credits were the only thing of value to him. But he couldn't help of think what life could have been like. With a wife. With children. With a stable life. One that was pictured in all of the holodramas. A family.

Greed had consumed the man. Yet there was no shame. This was his purpose. This is where he belonged. The galaxy needed order through its chaos, and all he did was stoke the fire. Made the stars burn.

And that warmth was the only thing that accompanied him as the pirate gazed upon the snow one last time.

 

[Lachadann]

Nestled in her crag, watching through the scope, Lachadann let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The tension came not just from seeing someone die or missing her chance. The tension came from realizing there was a sniper out there, a good one, set up well and using something serious.

With nothing to be gained, she got up and headed away through the crags. There was nothing for it but to leave and eat the gas money. And be faster next time.

 

[Fenn Stag]

TO WHICH I GO

​

Fenn finally stood, as the snow grew silent around him.

He walked the lonely walk, to the man laying in the snow. He was once a man- a reportedly vile, cruel man. A thief, a murderer, all the things that made men vile in the stars above. Greed consumed him. But even thus, he was a man, and fought to the end. Fenn stood over the body in the snow, the winds picking up as he stood over him. His armor was lightly coated in the snow, his cloak left behind. In the shadow of the warmless sun, he appeared dark and looming.

Fenn rolled him onto his back, taking a knee next to him. The stock of the rifle pushed into the ground nearest him. Fenn took a deep breath, pulling a round from the chamber. The last bullet in the magazine, the last one meant for the man. He laid it next to the man as a symbol of his tenacity. Most men would've died with one, the man took three.

And was still coming by the second.

He didn't take his lightsaber. Didn't rifle his pockets. He just stood over him, quiet, eerie, still. Fenn looked up towards the once-held together camp of the Pirate, where the other Mandalorian was most likely. Fenn had no reason to pursue him, no reason to fight him. Fenn was simply the better of the two, or at least, the more successful. Better was relative. He just had a better approach and better solution to the problem at hand.

"Die well."​