Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Man O'War

Zahorimar
Kulthis System
0530 local

His borrowed Action IV transport rested on the duracrete as he methodically donned his armor in the dim light of the main cabin. The cold beskar plates, stained a rusty red and black from a forgotten war in the far reaches of the galactic edge still fit as well as when they were first forged. These plates had given him life, purpose, identity, and hope for the better part of 30 cycles, they were a part of him as much as his skin and bones.

His gauntlets on his hands he donned his helmet last and began strapping his weapons in place before finally slinging his concussion rifle over his shoulder muzzle down. He had never been one to ignore orders before, but he came back to the galaxy to find his family, but what he found was only death. His people had devolved into bickering narcissists with delusions of grandeur. They had lost their way...he would not lose his.

He climbed down the boarding ladder and met the port authority representative at the bottom. A large bribe later and he was allowed to leave the port as a merchant delivering building materials and tools for the local industrial quarter. His ship's cargo hold was full, but it wasn't goods, it was unrefined baridium on a timer and set to trigger early if someone came to unload the ship. That was the distraction.

He wanted to hurt the sith as much as he wanted to hurt his wayward cousins. And he would, or he'd die as he lived, at war.
 
He continued out of the starport and into the city. Even this early in the morning there were people hustling to carry out their busy lives. They would be in chaos soon. They'd call it terrorism an act of cowardice and any number of other propagandists idioms used to paint those in power as right and good in the eyes of their citizens. But Ordo knew there was no rules of engagement that the Sith would follow against him. They would scorch the surface of worlds if that suited them, they would have no mercy, so neither would he show it.

He rounded a corner and checked the chronometer on his HUD. He had Ten minutes left to make it out of the projected blast zone and either find transport or begin his next objective. Patrolling peace keepers were already giving him looks. It was only a matter of time before he was stopped and questioned. And at that point he would have to improvise.

[member="Darth Athora"]
[member="Darth Carnifex"]
 
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQec64G2iXo[/youtube]​

The cigarra illuminated his face in a smoldering orange light, helping to accent the scars and hair that's grown in the last week. He hadn’t been on Kulthis long - only coming to the planet to track Ordo; another Mandalorian, and one of far greater repute than Soloman himself. He did it with a tinge of discontent - he never felt good collecting the price on the head of a Mandalorian, but a paycheck is a paycheck.

And he knew the Hutt Cartel’s on Nar Shaddaa wouldn’t forgive his debt on account of his conscious.

He saw the man walk through the crowds, and made sure to stay just far enough back to not be seen. His free hand twitched next to the handle of his Vora, but he knew better than to simply open fire in an open crowd; the backlash would likely see his own head with a bounty - and he wasn’t exactly keen on having hunters after him. Lest he get tracked by Julian Valentine or Koda Fett - neither people he cared to see right now.

There was a moment Soloman considered exactly why Ordo was on the planet - delivering a ship of cargo, for what purpose? It wasn’t likely the man had become a smuggler, it didn’t fit his opus operandi; nor was it a particularly well considered career for Mandalorians. Not that it mattered - his job wasn’t to concern himself with what Ordo was doing on the planet, only to get him back off it in chains.

Being of reasonably the same size, though Soloman did fall short by a few pounds, he forced himself through the crowd hoping Ordo wouldn’t notice the scarred Mandalorian following him - and as the cigarra would let lose a touch of smoke once more - assuming Ordo didn’t notice him -he'd press two fingers into his back as he walked, never losing pace.

His voice was quiet -

Ordo, my name is Soloman Priest. You’ve got a price on your head, and I’ve come to collect. Don’t make any sudden movements - let's take a walk from the crowds.”, he said lightly, glancing about for any interested parties he’d have to discourage.


[member="Ordo"]
 
[ THEME ]

Nq0fFh5.jpg

Julian Valentine, the Hammerhead, walked the streets of Zahorimar. He was approaching Quadrant C in the spaceport district, helmet scanning the crowds as he marched purposefully towards one of the pads where a vessel had docked only moments ago. His target was Ordo, a Mandalorian.

"Aki, eyes on," Valentine ordered over his comm. The Twi'lek smuggler responded with a brief green light that flashed across the hunters HUD. The smuggler herself was not located too far from Valentines destination, having landed their own ship in a nearby hanger. They were cleared for duties of licensed bounty hunting, target unspecified.

"Uh, Valentine, someones already got your boy," Aki said with sheepish nerves. Immediately Valentines HUD was altered as a visual transmission was transferred to his helmet, a small box in the corner of his field of view displayed security camera footage that had been illegally accessed by Aki's slicing. The feed was live and with help from recognition programs, they had identified Ordo but due to the angle they could not accurately identify the third party who was standing behind the Mandalorian.

"Warm the engines, changing course to intercept," Valentine said to Aki as he turned on his heels and began to head away from the spaceport and towards the two figures in the crowd, further away. "Be on standby for a hot pickup." The bounty hunter rested his left hand against the holstered pistol at his hip, a razor net sidearm, while his right hand draped over a holstered MT-14 heavy blaster pistol on his right hip.
 
The timer on the explosive ship ticked down farther and farther as he advanced away from the starport. Judging by the level of technology of the city and the continuous patrols he knew it was only a matter of time before he ran across trouble. He needed to secure his exit plan and fast.

He made his way along concussion rifle still hanging from his shoulder, the Mandalorian ripper on his thigh, and beskad on his back plates. It wasn't the arsenal most Mandalorians carried, but he had learned a long time ago the Mandalorian was the weapon, everything else were just tools of the trade.

He felt the push against his back and the calm cool voice through his helmet.

'Bingo.' He thought to himself immediately as he slowed his pace a step and kept his hands off his weapons.

"Hutts, Republic or Black Sun?" He asked in a deep voice like a distant landslide. "Must be Black Sun, everyone else with a bounty doesn't exist anymore."

He talked as a distraction. A way to get the man to engage and give away enough information to help him gauge how far he should let this go.

"Which way?" He asked after a moment. People would be reacting soon despite the kid's discretion.

[member="Soloman Priest"] [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
Priest grimaced at the guesses - and the man got it wrong nonetheless. Black suns? Who worked for the Black Suns anymore? He made a half hearted scoff before using his makeshift pistol made of fingers, and jabbing them into Ordo’s back once more to push him onward -

Forward, chakaar.”, he said with a gruffness that didn’t betray his candid annoyance over the mistaken identity.

He glanced to his hand, a small screen showing the general location of his gunship, ‘Lady Luck’ as it would seem; and pressed Ordo in that direction. He glanced at the concussion rifle, the ripper, and the beskad on his back plates - an odd thing for a mandalorian to carry, he thought, but it was an odd thing for a mandalorian to move so secretly through a foreign city as well. Not his business regardless.

Do us a favour, and wait to fight back until the people are gone.”, he said with a quiet roughness as yet another person looked to what he was doing. They only looked away when he gave them a threatening look, forcing them to back down before saying anything.

[member="Ordo"]
 
The timer ticked down on his HUD as he began walking through the already crowded streets. He would have thought that there would be less foot traffic in a city like this, but then he'd been gone a long long time.

He moved calmly despite the urge that was boiling up in his core to act. Thirty years of war made calm response to an armed combatant more difficult than you may think. He wanted to spin and fight it out, people be damned. But, he had an objective, and now he had a ride off world. He had to keep his cool.

He moved passed people and more people. Some bumping and jostling him absently as if he weren't a large armored weapon. Some looked up from their data devices and went wide eyed, curses dying in their gape mouthed throats as the 'T' of his helmet looked back at them. At least there was some sense of self-preservation left in this galaxy. They'd need that.


[member="Soloman Priest"]
 
Unlike Ordo, Soloman no longer wore the iconic T-Visor his culture demanded of him. To him, and many others of the organized clans, he was no longer Mandalorian - not in culture, not in body, and not in spirit; only a man with an exceptional quick draw and a draining alcohol problem. There was a certain spite that Soloman had for the beskar’gam Ordo wore - but he knew it wasn’t simply because he disliked Mandalorians, it was a stain of jealousy, for a time he lost to the cruel enigmatic nature of fate. He lost his right to be a Mandalorian off a lie - and that mirrored itself in the painted exterior of Ordo’s armor.

Soloman spit at the memories - watching as a man got a bit too close, as though he were going to commit himself to a fight he couldn’t handle. The ‘Huckleberry’ Holster on his right side sprung to life as it shot Soloman’s gun into his hand and aimed at the man faster than one could blink - and before the man even knew what was happening, he had the barrel of a Vora pointing him down. The Mandalorian didn’t fire, only motioned with it away from them and reholstered it - a message strong enough to crack the stranger’s convictions.

The crowds had lightened up after a small distance, and as the opening came into view Soloman pressed something on his vambrace - a local beacon for his ship to find them. Its automated droid brain would make short work of the trip, but in the meantime Priest had to make sure Ordo wasn’t going to run. He tapped him on the back again, and handed him a set of cuffs -

Put them on, Mandalorian.”, he said in a quiet contempt.

He didn’t have his guns drawn, but the draw he had done on the stranger only a moment before showed it didn’t matter - he was fast enough to make up for it.

[member="Ordo"] │ [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
"Get your ship over here." He replied, "and I'll put on the binders."

He stood waiting as he followed the progress of rhe timer as it ticked down to single digits. His mouth was a hard line behind his visor. Not even a hint of satisfaction as he paused and turned toward the bounty hunter.

"You might want to cover your ears, boy." He said a cold and hollow as if he was saying 'It looks rain.'.

There was brief pause before the cargo hold of baridium was suddenly exposed to the catalysts and accelerants he had in his cargo hold. The sound was so loud that the concussion of the sound alone was enough to kill at close range. Green flames rose into the air for thousands of meters. Debris from the myriad ships and equipment, as well as the the starport itself would be landing for miles.

Ordo used the chance to duck rock his concussion rifle parallel with the ground and fire at the bounty hunter's legs.

"[member="Jair Ordo"], extraction needed." He sub-vocalized into his helmet.

That was a blast you could seen from orbit. He'd be coming.


[member="Soloman Priest"]
 
He didn’t respond at first, the ship was on the way - even if Ordo didn’t know it. Priest almost ignored it as the man turned, watching the binders carefully as his hand ansily twitched - hoping he’d draw. Soloman enjoyed the occasional chance to prove his quick draw -

You might want to cover your ears, boy.”, An insult from a Mandalorian. He was used to it.

It looks like rain.

What?”, Priest asked with a furrowed brow.

Then it hit, a massive shock wave that shook the Mandalorian to his very core - threatened to lift him off his feet, and certainly burst his ear drums. He winced in pain as his eyes closed involuntarily, never even seeing Ordo pull the rifle from his shoulder. Soloman hadn’t even realized he was being aimed at until the blast hit him -

And it hit hard.

His leg snapped at the close range, but he didn’t cry out. It wasn’t the first time someone had gotten the drop on him, but it certainly was the flashiest; but Soloman needed his thoughts back on the situation. He’d heal, he always did - but that didn’t make this any better of a situation, and as Ordo began to call his own ship, Soloman showed him a small touch of the speed he’d developed over the years.

Despite the wounds, his complete inability to hear, and his now snapped leg; his draw was swift and true. Loaded with armor piercing verpine rounds, they’d slap into the beskar with enough energy to cause a small flash point where it touched - and it may not have carried the raw energy of the concussion rifle, but it would certainly hurt wherever it landed.

In this case, three shots - back to back, two to the chest and one to the head; all in the hopes of at least knocking the giant down, knocking him out, something. All he needed was for his ship to get there, and the guns could keep any target down - he just had to buy some time.

Bittakeh calyarnr.”, he grunted through clenched teeth.

[member="Ordo"]
 

Akash Guul

Guest
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRh-dzrI4Z4​

The damn ol' piece of junk, patched up and modified by Hem Rekali, blasted through the skyline. Parking tickets flying off its viewport and a horde of emergency and security vehicles and starships behind it. All headed to where the spaceport was. Or what remained of it. The smoke from the explosion could probably reach the atmosphere. That's what you get when numerous reactor cores exploded. At least, most would suffer a quick death. If that was some good news to the Sith.

If they cared at all.

"Get your shebs up, boss man!" Jair said through the comms and sharply pushed the yoke downwards sending the trash of a ship towards [member="Ordo"]'s (and [member="Soloman Priest"]). Through the viewport he managed to see the showdown between Ordo and another man in the midst of the armageddon. The younger Ordo tapped a few buttons but nothing happened.

"Karkin' hell, Rekali. Is it just shields and navcomps you guys can make?!" he muttered and punched the panel and something beneath the ship squeaked and screeched. A blaster canon appeared from beneath the ship's nose and it started firing like there was no tomorrow at Ordo's hunter as the ship descended next to its extraction target. "Yeehaw, fethin' good job, Hem."

The ramp opened up adjacent to the senior Ordo as the blaster canon kept pounding. It sounded like it was going to go out of breath soon.

"Up and away, al'verd' !"
 
"Engines warmed and calculating flight path," Aki said over the comm. Flying low in the city was dangerous, not just because they'd be breaking airspace laws for their vessel classification, far too large to be flying so low, but also the amount of traffic in the sky with airspeeders. Valentine observed the G9 Rigger-class freighter activate on his HUD, its once grey icon was now a bright green. An infrequent beep alerted him to its distance from him, at this range, quite far. Still at the starport.

Valentine was trailing behind the bounty hunter and Ordo, watching from a distance as the hunter drew on another who got too close, then resumed his walk after discouraging the unknown person. His right hand continued to lay draped over his holstered blaster while his left slipped to his belt and gripped it tight, ready and waiting for the right opportunity. The beeping in the background became more frequent, Aki's voice over the comm only confirmed to him that she was on her way. "ETA twenty seconds."

"Copy that," Valentine said absentmindedly, his focus on prey and predator before him. The next few seconds seemed to last half a lifetime as Ordo turned around. What was said could not be heard but he felt it. A flash of light from behind that passed beyond him, then a shock wave crashed into the back of him. Valentine was thrown from his feet as his mechanical legs gave out, knees scraping against the duracrete ground and arms extended to soften the impact.

The G9 had gone black on his HUD, a horrible hissing static filled his helmets comms and he tore the Hammerhead helm from his head, his eyes dancing from shoulder to shoulder to look at what had caused him to fall, then the sonic boom hit. The sound was nearly enough for him to cry out in pain. A large cloud rose in the distance and then he saw it, the G9 freighter broke out of the rising cloud and was losing altitude quickly, the extended wing completely torn asunder and causing the freighter to spin rapidly out of control. The hull was scorched, transparisteel shattered. He heard a voice come from inside his helmet, "Valentine! Valen-" and then the G9 vanished into the streets below. The ground shook.

Julian Valentine felt stunned for a moment, then the adrenaline came. His heart was racing, he could feel it in his chest. A thunderous drum. He took his Hammerhead helm from the ground and slid it back over his head and clipped it into place, his eyes looking back up at the only two on the street who hadn't fled immediately after the explosion. They had broken into a fight and from the corner of his field of view he saw an incoming ship, cannons opening a firing arc on Soloman. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

With an urgency greater than ever, the veteran bounty hunter grabbed at his belt and tore the belt-attached personal energy shield from his waist, thumbed it active and slid it across the ground towards Soloman. A bright yellow field of energy exploded to life and engulfed Soloman, blaster cannons rounds crashing into the dome and evaporating on its energy barrier. It faltered for a moment under the impacts, flickering for a second as it threatened to collapse under the firepower.

With the reflexes capable of only droids, androids and cyborgs, Valentine was back up on his feet, his powerful mechanical legs in stride as he cleared the distance between himself and Soloman, closing in on the bounty hunter and the shield, looking to join his side. His hands gripped at his holsters and slid out a blaster in his right hand and a grappling gun in the other. His eyes danced across the HUD in his helm as he deactivated the hissing comm from the now inactivate G9, then tagged his targets Ordo and the unknown vessel red, then tagged Soloman a neutral grey.
 
Ordo pushed up as fast as he was able. His head rang like rusty dinner bell. His HUD was glitching slightly and he had troubles with his audio, but he could move, that's all that mattered for the moment. He was almost back to his feet when the first shot hit his breastplate and sent him back onto his shebs. The impact knock the air from his lungs but he rolled over and began scrambling toward the lowered boarding ramp that had came down behind him. He could hear the voice of one of the only people he knew in the galaxy, and his plan C.

"FETH!" He shouted as another shot hit him.

He reached up and fired his whipcord from his gauntlet and caught the hydraulic strut to the boarding ramp and began reeling himself toward the ship as fast as it could go. With the concussion rifle still pointed back he fired blindly sending the four meter concussive blast in the general direction of the bounty hunter and his would be friend. They needed gone and they needed it now.


[member="Jair Ordo"] [member="Soloman Priest"] [member="Julian Valentine"]
 

Akash Guul

Guest
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnVaD71JeQo​

With a painful but determined groan the thrusters roared in full power and Jair's poor old trashcan took to flight gaining altitude far faster than expected of its appearance leaving behind in the dust, smoke and ash the Sith law enforcement and bounty hunters.

"Hold in tight back there, alor! We're literally going to burn outta this chit." the younger Ordo stated over the ship's PA and flipped a few switches. Lights flickered, some less reliable systems of the ship gave in but the trash can sliced through the atmosphere and away from the forming Sith vessels. Before they'd know it, Jair had pulled the hyperspace lever.

[exit.]

[member="Ordo"] [member="Julian Valentine"] [member="Soloman Priest"]​
 

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