Private Galaxy's Finest

[Cato Harth]

Cato hadn't left Nar Shaddaa in over a year at least. To no one's surprise, playing dress-up as the Jedi watchman of a moon synonymous with irreparable crime was a time consuming project. His title had never been official, but word was finally spreading among the underbelly: A masked vigilante, on a crusade to dismantle the system in whatever way presented itself. The schedule got busier. And the list of enemies grew longer.

So long, in fact, that he was finally forced to pursue a lead off-world. Some crime boss with ties to Denon decided he'd make a hasty retreat when the Jedi busted down his door. Maybe thought the Jedi wouldn't follow. Or maybe just thought he'd be safer here. But Cato wasn't content to let his hunt grow cold. If he could bring him down, it would have significant ramifications for his turf on Nar Shaddaa. And that was a very appealing sentiment.

On the surface, Denon was certainly cleaner than Narsh, at least. Not that it was a high bar to begin with. He was surprised to find how much cleaner the air felt in comparison, after silently suffering the acidic burn of endless pollution for as long as he had. From a rooftop, the Jedi knight loomed over his prey; A collection of hoodlums sporting the mark of a certain crime boss. As they entered into a darkened alley, he took his cue. Cato rose and spread his arms out, letting his jacket fly from his shoulders, and leaving behind only a prototype suit, finally ready for a field test.

It was black, form-fitting, and aside from a few rudimentary gadgets, sporting a relatively minimalist design that helped keep him fast and quiet while providing at least a basic level of defense. Something to improve on, but for now, he would make do. To complete the look, Cato pulled a full mask over his face, adorned with lenses that activated with a faint green glow.

He leapt down, the dampening pads on his boots eliminating nearly all sound from the landing. Under the mask he grinned, and approached his soon-to-be informants from the cover of shadow.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

A shadow dropped from the rooftops, colliding with the group of thugs chattering as they shuffled into the darkness of the alley. Panic ensued only when the second jaw was shattered with a kick. Chaotic blaster fire erupted, lighting up the shadows revealing the black leather jacket-clad man with a domino mask bearing white orbs for eyes. With the Force as his ally, Nightshrike danced and pranced in between the shots, their bolts ricocheting off the ground, walls, and the bodies of petrified goons leaving scorched marks in their wake; one of the many already blackened upon the crumbling plaster of the adjacent buildings' walls.

Despair finally settled in and some opted to flee as fast as they could. Didn't matter - the masked vigilante needed only one. One to unravel his tongue about this new crime lord setting up shop in the fathomless underworld of Denon. A new problem to deal with. A problem Nightshrike wanted to nip in the bud.

The last man standing was shoved into a wall, gloved hands squeezing the collars of his vest. "Talk." he ordered coldly.

Cato Harth ​

 

[Cato Harth]

Before Cato could make his advance, a third party entered the fray. Initial confusion and sounds of struggle gave way to shouting and gunfire. Stray bolts flashed the alley in momentary shades of red, creating a strobe light effect that made events difficult to perceive. The masked knight rushed in, but before he could cross the distance it was already done, and he skidded to a halt once he finally singled out the source of his interruption.

Not risking a chance for this stranger to jeopardize his mission, Cato stretched out his left arm and pointed his fist downward, allowing the device on the top of his wrist to activate; A fibercord whip launched outward to bind around the assailant’s raised fist, “Not so fast.” He stepped forward, his goggle lens glinting under the moonlight, “He’s got something I need.”

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

A fibercord whip from a presence he had not sensed stretched taut around his hand and with just enough strength behind it to hold him back. Instinct kicked in before anything else and Nightshrike twisted his hand to hold the whip. The empyrean surged through his arm, empowering his grip enough to attempt to yank the mysterious assailant but before he could haul, the vigilante's senses stepped in.

"Who the hell are you?" he growled in a low voice, the grip around the whip tightening more. Meanwhile, the goon in his other hand tried to wiggle his way out only for the Jedi to squeeze him into the wall more. "Don't even think about it."

Cato Harth ​

 

[Cato Harth]

Cato’s head cocked at the question, “Why does no one understand the purpose of a mask?” He continued to inch forward, carefully closing the distance as much as he could without triggering a more intense response.

The night vision of his lenses kicked in, and the stranger across from him was seen more clearly, “You included. That thing supposed to hide who you are?” He pointed a finger gun at the domino mask, scoffing a bit. Cato just couldn’t help himself.

“Look, I can handle things from here. How about you head home before things get out of hand?” A bit patronizing, all things considered. But he was already eager to wrap this mess up nice and tidy, and head back to familiar grounds.

Dagon Kaze​