Private Harbinger

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

Beep........ Beep..... Beep.....

The tracking FOB has lead him to Telos. The Warhawk swooped into atmosphere, turning off its Ion Thrusters as Deryn looked for a place to land. He scoured the cities, checking at how fast the FOB was beeping in response. Last known interface was in Citadel Station, as it seems. He'd set the Warhawk down by a landing station, readying his weapons before taking off to wherever the FOB took him, after paying off the inspector, of course. His quarry: a former Dark Jedi, a former Mandalorian, a former Knight Commander of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He's been places, he has been someone, but for now, the only thing this Alkor Centaris is is his target. From all the lives he has left, he surely left someone angry. Deryn was a courier of that fury.

Beep...Beep...Beep

Entering the Cantina, he'd squeeze pass the crowd surrounding a bar-fight. The two fighters were tied together through an energy band. One was a Zabrak, the other was a Echani. He could recongize the Echani's style, it was swift, flowing, while simultaneously powerful. The Zabrak, while skilled in his own right, couldn't compare in skill. But there was a fire in his eyes, a fire Deryn could see as clear as day. With every kick, jab,, and hook he took, that fire only grew stronger. He didn't seem to be slowing down in spite of all the damage he is taking. The Zabrak's body was built like a Krayt Dragon, for one. Seeing the little fat on him with all that muscle, Deryn assumed he was a soldier, perhaps a mercenary. He probably dealt with heavy weaponry which may be why he was so well built even for a soldier. He bet his money on the Zabrak, 45 Sith-Imperial Credits went down the drain as he watched the Zabrak's arm get broken and the fight stopped.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Well, at least his quarry was here.

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

It could be said, once, that Alkor Centaris was a creature born of violence. War and Death both seemed to follow where he went, and he'd learned both of them intimately. How to bring them, how to stop them, how to...

...playing god was the sociopathic modus operandi of the Jen'jidai. There was a time when Alkor believed he had a right to take life or to decide who was worthy of it. "Strength dictates power, might makes right."

He'd come a long way in the years since he left the Confederacy. Both in flying on his own and living outside of domesticated space, he'd seen darwinism at work. He knew that there was always something bigger, now.

He knew, to his core, that survival wasn't about being the strongest. It was about outlasting the other guy. If you're not dead, you win.

That was important, because once, he had not placed value in his own existence.

Now, where people tossed credits at a bookie and placed bets on who would win in a fight, Alkor was only passing through on his way to make a drop at Terminus. There were talks that the Outer Planets Alliance had fallen, and in its wake, the chaos that set in made the Outer Rim a better place for scumbags than ever before.

It was the first opportunity he'd gotten to return to anything close to civilized space in nearly five years. As he lovingly nursed a glass of fine Corellian ale, he heard the telltale beep of a Bounty Hunter's fob someplace in the distance.

Alkor didn't glance up. It could have been for anyone in a hive like this. If he had a knee jerk reaction, he might draw attention to himself. It was best to wait and see what happened.

For the moment, he palmed a small metal device shaped like a coin and rubbed his finger over the grooved edges. He did glance up from his drink to assess his surroundings: tables full of drunk or boisterous aliens, a cranky bartender, the two duking it out down in the fighting pit... plenty of potential distractions, cover, and makeshift weaponry.

Of course, hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side.

Not that he was against carrying ancient weapons.

Deryn Kaaldos

Spoiler

Wearing: these with this, sans arrows and pouches.

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

It didn't long to pin-point him from the crowd. He took a few steps, listening to the heartbeats of all the patrons resonating in his.... whatever he used to hear., and saw who it was relative to but did not look at him, only focusing in on his throbbing heart and the sound of his every breath. He found his quarry. He found Alkor Centaris . That heartbeat was his and he was marked. He lowered down the volume of his FOB, knowing he surely must have heard it. He wanted him on alert, on edge, but not sure of who exactly was hunting him. The sound of the FOB was gone now as he disappeared into the crowd as he took steps towards the Zabrak.

"That was a good fight you had there. You're a soldier, right?" He asked him, still keeping track of Alkor's heartbeat but blending into the crowd. "How's that arm?"

"Ye, thanks, and no, mercenary. Had a lotta money on that fight. Think I'll be fine but it'll take some good doses of bacta to heal outta my pocket to get back straight." The Zabrak said in disappointment. However, the clink of Sith-Imperial Credits made him perk up. Deryn put a good amount down, enough for a few doses.

"Take them. Next time I bet on you, win."

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The Hunter gave no explicit signs he had found his mark, but the monotonous metronome that was a Bounty Fob went silent. A duller man might have taken the bait and played it safe. Anyone with a mark on him in that room, now, watched with baited breath. The Hunter could be anyone, and they could be anywhere.

A few of the patrons excused themselves after the count of ten. Safe bet, if one of them was the mark, the Hunter would file out the door directly behind them. Alkor gave the count twenty, and every man who was interested in leaving the room had left.

Hunter, hunted, didn't matter anymore.

He leaned forward and took another sip of his ale. While he did so, the Corellian exile ran his fingers across the surface of his lucky charm.

He wasn't going to make it easy for the guy. Oh, right- he figured out who the mark was quickly enough. There were only low profile bounties this far into the rim. Telos was fairly entrenched in SIMP territory. You didn't go there unless you worked for them or you had the balls to run through without permission.

The time when his connections were that good was behind him. Alkor had no interest in calling favors out from the Dark Lord of the Sith, nor did he really want his presence in the man's territory to become common knowledge.

It was supposed to be a quick pick and drop. Had someone tipped off the Guild? Didn't matter, they were already in this situation. He had to assume this guy wasn't the only Hunter, now.

"'Nother round?" he asked with a half-cocked smile, slipping the credit chit to the barmaid underhand. He kept the woman between his face and the crowd. "Last one for me, cash out my tab," he instructed.

The straight shot to the door was out. If he made a break for it, the Hunter might have a net or a stun bolt waiting for him. All things considered, while he wasn't particularly inclined to oblige a shootout, he was running out of alternatives.

Deryn Kaaldos

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

Feeling the credits in his hands, the Zabrak would salute the armored Bounty Hunter and he would do the same gesture back. "Have a good one, chief! He praised as he pocketed the credits into his pants. Deryn would turn back, encountering the maid that Alkor Centaris had just spoken to. "Excuse me, ma'am." He said with a politeness often uncharacteristic of people in his line of work. Their conversation was in ear shot of Alkor.

"Yes, sir, what is it?" The young Twi'lek answered back, holding the tray of holding the drinks of Alkor and a few others. She straightened up her posture. She glanced upwards towards the armored Hunter, stepping back a bit due to his imposing appearance despite his rather formal manner. Her sudden step backwards almost caused the drinks to spill but she's been in the business too long to have drinks spill because of surprise.

"I..... was wonder when was the next fight? Is there a schedule?" His voice slipped just a tiny bit at the beginning, his attention somewhat divided. The deep growl of the one syllable was enough to startle the young Twi'lek even more but he soon fixed it back to his disguised voice. A slight pause in their conversation took hold, broken by the Twi'lek.

"Well, we have fight matches every five days, though, we do have a Kowakian Monkey-Lizard battles and Pod-Racing Live-Broadcasts Bets every two days, and the next one is tomorrow if you wanna bet." She offered but she could tell that Deryn wasn't the type of man to be interested in Kowakian Monkey-Lizard battles.

She was wrong. "Kark, you have Kowakian Monkey-Lizards here? Damn, I'd like to see one but I'm leaving tomorrow for some work. Thanks anyways." He said as he headed out the door of the cantina, his senses still tracking Alkor's heartbeat. Even as he headed out and rounded the corner towards the alleyway of the cantina, his heartbeat was still as clear as day to him. Now, came either the most suspenseful part of Bounty Hunting: Watching and Waiting. He needed him outside and alone. Deryn was a destructive man in battle and he didn't want to endanger anyone in the cantina, nor did he want to owe the owner anything for property damage.

He knew there were only two ways to exit the cantina. It was either the main entrance or the back door where only staff members could move through. He was willing to bet that he'll make his way through the main entrance but if somehow, he gained access to the backrooms where it lead to this alleyway, he could adapt.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Cybernetic Power-Shell
• Cybernetic Power-Skeleton
• TDW H.A.R.M.
• TDW L-7
• TTOT-019 Scatterblaster
• Implosion Grenades x5
• Sonic Detonators x5
• Thermal Detonators x5
• Stun Grenades x5
• Anti-Force Cuffs x2
• Paralysis Darts x10

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Being hunted brought with it a sensation no different from hunting. The blood rushed to the head and instinct took hold. His breathing came harsher and more loudly through his ears, making regular sounds seem less lucid and further away. The acute sound of commerce around him came muffled, as though he were submerged. Alkor's eyes fluttered slightly as he drifted outward, allowing his mind to saturate in the world around him.

His heartbeat began to follow suit. Slower as his breathing stalled; and finally, like a candle snuffed out, Alkor disappeared.

Rather, he seemed to disappear. If he were on any type of sensor, or someone caught sight of him by supranational means, he melted out of view like condensation, little more than beads of water on a lens.

To the naked eye, he was still very present: at least, for the moment.

That was about the time when the drink made it to his table. In the moment where the Twi'lek made her drop, Alkor smiled and thanked her, then slipped away between two adjacent patrons.

The crowd hadn't thinned. In fact, after the fights, the patrons who were seized with the combatants started to make their way back to their tables, and their drinks. Those who won made their boasts and bought rounds for the losers, while said losers gladly began to drink away their sorrows.

Boisterous at best, violent at worst. Alkor sifted through them, in no hurry, allowing for their raucous actions to steal the limelight.

The exit was too far, pragmatically, to steal away in short order. If he wanted to maintain his subtlety, he couldn't attempt to break away. Instead, he followed the flow of the drunkards, and he used the opportunity to try to get a look at whoever was pursuing him.

A Bounty Hunter wasn't allowed to just fire with reckless abandon into a crowd, after all.

Deryn Kaaldos

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

Tip, tap, tip. Footsteps littered the ground. When his heart and breath, vital parts of a person's being, disappeared from his senses, all that was left was the affect he had on the world. If he could hear a heartbeat deep within their chest cavity from over a hundred meters away, he could hear the slight rub of fabrics, he could hear the gentle nudges through the crowd, the sound of echo of his footsteps, and all the noises that were made by a man with no heartbeat from beyond a few cantina walls that did little to muffle any noise.

He remained in his little alleyway, knowing of the Force-User's tactics. He didn't know what how Alkor Centaris knew he was tracking him by his heartbeat and breath, but he certainly didn't account for what else he could hear. He made sure the rest of his equipment was ready, waiting for Alkor to stop hiding in the crowds, hoping to run his patience dry. He had more than enough patience. Deryn waited in the dark for three hundred years before he finally had a taste of life. Every year seemed like a minute to him anyways. He listened in as he continued to sift through, the letting the noises of the friction, footsteps, gentle pushes, general movement screech in his ear.

He mulled over his head what threat this man could pose if he stopped cowering in the shadows of the cantina like the Corellian Rat he is. He knew he was once a Dark Jedi. He might have a Lightsaber and that could cut through his armor quite well. That is, if he could hit him. In spite of the heavy power-armor, Deryn could react and act faster than even most Jedi or Sith Masters. To the Gen'Dai, even those that have mastered the arts of the force moved in slow-motion. If he had any other weapons, he didn't make it obvious to him. If he had a blaster on him, was confident that his Power-Shell could take it unless he was packing something real heavy.

In the mean time, as the Corellian bounded about in the room. He threw one of his Implosion Grenades, both were Entrapment versions, at each of the entrances, just out of sight from within. They'd activate when he signals them to. Implosion Grenades were mostly non-lethal, and the entrapment kind especially so. If other patrons got caught in it, no one would get hurt. Probably.

Spoiler: equipment

• Cybernetic Power-Shell
• Cybernetic Power-Skeleton
• TDW H.A.R.M.
• TDW L-7
• TTOT-019 Scatterblaster
• Implosion Grenades x3
• Sonic Detonators x5
• Thermal Detonators x5
• Stun Grenades x5
• Anti-Force Cuffs x2
• Paralysis Darts x10

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor had all but dissolved from apparent mediums of tracking. He hadn't functionally disappeared the way someone with active camouflage might- he was still breathing, his heartbeat remained level and even, and he moved as if nothing were out of the ordinary. There was no difference between him and anyone else in the room.

The large room, filled with all sorts of people, feeling all sorts of things, making all kinds of noise. For Alkor, someone who had hunted others for a living, he understood the mentality that went into searching for others. There was a slim possibility he wasn't even the target here: but paranoia sets in when you know there are people who want you found.

That was why he went to the effort of fading into obscurity, and why he kept to the crowd rather than moving straight for the door. Someone was doubtless watching the entrances. He had to wait to make his move, and he hated that.

Alkor was never a reactive combatant before. This new lifestyle, this desire to start over, it fundamentally changed who he was. He knew he had the power to barrel right through, and yet, he refused. Whatever the Hunter was doing, he was being quiet about it. Alkor couldn't make any sudden movements, and the other man wasn't about to, either.

He didn't look around to get a good idea of what the man looked like. If he made eye contact, the Hunter would jump at the opportunity to spring some kind of trap, or make an approach. Instead, Alkor took to the stairs to the upper level, which offered a vantage point over the rest of cantina as well as a handful of patrons less interested in mingling with the other clientele.

It was hardly expansive, an overlook for viewing the fights and a dimly lit drinking area. They didn't take much of a liking to his presence, either, but they didn't speak up. The Mirialian dancing girls continued to grind and eventually, the growling visage of a moody Devaronian returned to its previous ambivalence toward everything but his consort. Meanwhile, Alkor took a seat near the back wall.

The Hunter would have to come up the stairs to get any type of vantage on him, now.

Meanwhile, one of the Bouncers happened to notice the man toss sort of device near either entryway. "Hey there," the gruff looking Torgorian growled as he folded his arms. "Can I help you with something?"

Deryn Kaaldos

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

His interaction would be short. A flash of a hunter's guild badge and, more importantly, Sith-Imperial Credits. "Non-lethal. Don't worry." He added to his bribe. The Torgorian would feel the weight of the credits in his hand, flashing Deryn a smile. "Then I should better go check if they are, no?" Deryn would salute him as he turned his back. He was running a bit dry on those Sith-Imperial credits he had on hand. Like any responsible citizen, doesn't put all his eggs in one batch. Course, when it comes to buying weapons, those rules went out the door.

Meanwhile, "Excuse me~" one of the drunken patrons said as they squeezed past Alkor on the narrow stairway. In that interaction, there was only one heartbeat he could hear. He knew where he was now. Hiding up-top only meant he could escape through the windows. Hearing the gentle tap and screech of the chair he would pull out and sit on, he would know his location.

At first instinct, he wanted to use a thermal detonator to end this quick but he had to restrain himself. A thermal detonator would cause far too much damage, far too much disturbance. However, he saw more uses for his new Implosion Grenades. Another Entrapment model, he would throw towards the upper-level of the building, the grenade latching onto the side of wall, the same wall where Alkor was behind, and it activated. The more sparsely populated upper-level would be free from the danger the Implosion Grenade would cause, only Alkor would suddenly be pulled violently towards the wall behind him.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Cybernetic Power-Shell
• Cybernetic Power-Skeleton
• TDW H.A.R.M.
• TDW L-7
• TTOT-019 Scatterblaster
• Implosion Grenades x2
• Sonic Detonators x5
• Thermal Detonators x5
• Stun Grenades x5
• Anti-Force Cuffs x2
• Paralysis Darts x10

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The sensation came quickly as he sat down. Intent bled into the Force- not lethal, perhaps, but danger came in many forms. When the small object came lobbing through the air, Alkor's eyes were on it.

All around him, the world slowed to a standstill. Where others reacted slowly, with terror twisting their features, all while the grunting Corellian tossed back his chair and it smacked into the wall behind him.

For those not under the effects of Force enhanced speed, this seemed to happen out of nowhere, and no indication was given as to how it started. The sound of the chair splintering against the wall split the attention of the patrons, and those who weren't already hitting the deck from the grenade out were drawn to the sudden impact.

It was during that confusion that Alkor dove off the second floor, because now it was apparent who the aggressor was. The grenade trailed in a parabola, and he had followed that back to the strange looking fellow who was now watching the second floor expectantly.

The blast went off just as he dove, and behind him, the Mirialan and her Devaronian patron let out twin cries of distress as they were drawn toward the gravitic anomaly. They weren't close enough to be torn from their seats, but they weren't happy to be disturbed, either.

Between her running downstairs and him pulling his blaster, the chaos had only just started. "Schutta! Who the hell threw that?" he asked. His mood was ruined, and now he wanted someone to answer with blood.

Meanwhile Alkor, still in the air had drawn his Hand Cannon. By the time he hit the ground level, many of the patrons had scattered, either rushing toward one of the exits or looking for a place to hide.

The Corellian exile trained his firearm on the Bounty Hunter and, with the speedy flick of a dial, took a shot at center mass. The output level maximized for a single shot, it came at normal speed...

...but where it came from may have taken the Hunter by surprise. Alkor had taken that moment of confusion and moved himself to a more level playing ground. He toppled a table next to him after the shot was fired and spoke.

"Listen fella, I know you're just trying to pay the bills, but there's a million other folks in this galaxy you could hunt. You should pick one of them."

Deryn Kaaldos

 

[Deryn Kaaldos]

​

His instantaneous reflexes of his knew that he was going to avoid it by the time he saw it. The world funneled down into black and white as the grenade went off, then deactivated as quickly as it came. Though, had still caused the chairs, tables, and patrons to inch towards the grenade, it felt like little more than a slight earthquake, though this likely didn't calm anyone's nerves.

Now, it was just him and his quarry. He could feel the falter and surprise Alkor had by the grenade, the heartbeat that passed through, the unholstering of his blaster, and his landing on the ground. As Alkor pulled out his weapon, he did too with his TDW L-7. Deryn would deftly turn his body, the blast would narrowly miss him, the light glinting off his armored chest, displaying further his inhuman speed. Simultaneously, he fired his own rounds towards Alkor in quick succession. Two shots barreled through the air, each with just as much power as Alkor's Alma Fuerte, both towards his own center of mass, even if he took cover behind the table. These slugs would punch through that table like paper

The gun kicked like a mule but against his strength, it had little to no kickback at all. He had designed his current loadout to fight against a saber wielder. Knowing he now carries a unique gun was a surprise but he wouldn't let it take him off balance. He just needed to use his shots wisely. Given that it is a blaster, he had more shots available to him in comparison to the TDW. Granted, he had more guns.

"Millions of others I can hunt and I pick you. Guess your luck from running all these years finally run dry, huh, bud?" He took cover behind the electrical pole made of duracrete and durasteel beside the building. This was cover that wouldn't be as easily compromised as his table. He wouldn't use a table, nor anything that wasn't attached to a wall or building. He was dealing with a force-user, after all. Taking cover behind those would just be a call for him to use his telekinetic bantha poodoo to turn it against him.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Cybernetic Power-Shell
• Cybernetic Power-Skeleton
• TDW H.A.R.M.
• TDW L-7
• TTOT-019 Scatterblaster
• Implosion Grenades x2
• Sonic Detonators x5
• Thermal Detonators x5
• Stun Grenades x5
• Anti-Force Cuffs x2
• Paralysis Darts x10

​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The thing about firing at an opponent was that things tended to vary dependent upon circumstance.

Alkor toppled the table before he spoke to give himself extra options, but not specifically hold out. So it stood that when the blast from his Hand Cannon went wide of the target, he wasn't surprised and he didn't lose his composure.

No, this wasn't all that scary. Hunter had good instincts, certainly, but he was just another Hunter. The blast from Alma Fuerte impacted the frame of the main entrance, tearing a chunk out and leaving a charred, smoking dent in the middle. In his peripheral vision, Alkor noticed something, like smoke whisping somewhere just outside his field of vision.

He slipped behind the table, and the first round from the Hunter's weapon smacked against the table and splintered it. It offered no real protection, but, it wasted the first round intended for Alkor.

Alkor, who was already taking refuge behind the bar. The second shot collided with the wall at the opposite side of the room. Once a shot was in the air, unless you were a Forcie, it was only going one way.

"I like my odds," he replied casually as he raised his weapon again. This time, he looked directly toward the strange phenomenon, and Alkor could see it.

The substructure of the wall, compressed and brutalized by the impact, and the exposed weakness that came with it. He didn't need to fire a powerful shot. He just had to hit it.

So, he pulled the trigger, fired, and dropped behind the bar.

When it struck, the frame of the door creaked, and the wall began to groan.