Alkor Centaris
Son of Liberty
He strayed close to the fringes of the club, though in the kaleidoscope lighting and loud noise made it exceptionally difficult to pinpoint anyone specific. The only saving grace beyond facematching was the violence that erupted in the midst of all the dancing and fornication. Normally he would have come kitted heavier to deal with Hutt scum and their contingent of hired hands, but he was hardly alone in this. [member="Karsan Calnov"] looked in piss poor shape as the tactical readouts of his armor and physical condition were securely transmitted. "Osik," Alkor hissed. There was no time for a tactical regroup, and no room for a retreat. The bloodied Mando would have to hold on for the ride as they pressed on.
"Dampners on, vode. Brace for Sonic," he called across their secure, short range frequency. Alkor detached the ordinance from his belt and crouched low, tapping the activation switch and rolling the grenade along the floor into the heat of the action. It wasn't ideal with one man wounded, but they needed a quick response to the Hutt's vicious ensemble.
The low beeping slowly climbed until the small orb suddenly popped open, and a mind-numbing screech emanated forth and flooded the room. At that high frequency, glass blasted out from lights and amplifiers whined in protest as the acoustics were abused. Dancers and drug addicts alike clutched their heads in agony and fell to the floor, blood lancing from wounded ear drums.
Alkor waited to dial down the sonic dampners until a good number of the crowd had slumped. Before that, though, his pistol was in hand and he skimmed his HUD for any sign of not-pacified scumbag. It was doubtful that there would be absolutely zero resistance left.
"Grab him, let's regroup," Alkor called to [member="Nicair Claden"], "we have a slug to salt."
His hand was still shaking from the waves of sound that ripped through his body, but the worst of the damage had been abated. Thankfully for Alkor. He could feel blood rushing back to extremities and the lightness slowly fading- but ideally, the enemy would have it much worse.
[member="Cradossk"] | [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"] | [member="Tathra Khaeus"] | [member="Simone"] | [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] | [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"] | @A'Runda | @everyone else
"Dampners on, vode. Brace for Sonic," he called across their secure, short range frequency. Alkor detached the ordinance from his belt and crouched low, tapping the activation switch and rolling the grenade along the floor into the heat of the action. It wasn't ideal with one man wounded, but they needed a quick response to the Hutt's vicious ensemble.
The low beeping slowly climbed until the small orb suddenly popped open, and a mind-numbing screech emanated forth and flooded the room. At that high frequency, glass blasted out from lights and amplifiers whined in protest as the acoustics were abused. Dancers and drug addicts alike clutched their heads in agony and fell to the floor, blood lancing from wounded ear drums.
Alkor waited to dial down the sonic dampners until a good number of the crowd had slumped. Before that, though, his pistol was in hand and he skimmed his HUD for any sign of not-pacified scumbag. It was doubtful that there would be absolutely zero resistance left.
"Grab him, let's regroup," Alkor called to [member="Nicair Claden"], "we have a slug to salt."
His hand was still shaking from the waves of sound that ripped through his body, but the worst of the damage had been abated. Thankfully for Alkor. He could feel blood rushing back to extremities and the lightness slowly fading- but ideally, the enemy would have it much worse.
[member="Cradossk"] | [member="Kat'Lariah Syphex"] | [member="Tathra Khaeus"] | [member="Simone"] | [member="Bareesh Kajidic"] | [member="Sal Katarn"] | [member="Gorba the Hutt"] | @A'Runda | @everyone else