Nar Shaddaa Crusade (Open)

[Blank]

Nar Shaddaa, Slums

Fighting crime on Nar Shaddaa was like trying to extinguish a wildfire with your own spit. Doing it alone without any form of backup was a recipe for suicide and only someone with heavily issues would be both brave and idiotic enough to even try it. That was why Alev had decided to leave Coruscant for a while, to fight a problem that made the Coruscant Underworld into a small inconvenience in comparison. It wasn't like anyone at home would miss him, or even remember who he was.

In a dark, empty ally the young man reached for the heavy bag that he carried with him. Unseen from any eyes he opened his back and began to put on his dark armor. Before descending the helmet down on his head, he reached inside of the bag another time and pulled out a photo, as he did every time before taking up the role of Blank and fighting everyone who wronged the innocent. With teary eyes the man lifted the photo to his lips, whispering a near silent "I love you" before placing it in small deposit inside of his helmet. Then the metal object moved over his face. Alev was gone, and Blank was there to bring justice to this rotten world.
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On Coruscant you sometimes had to search for a crime if you wanted to deliver punishment. Here on the other hand crime ruled every street and every corner. Nar Shaddaa was broken from his core up to the peak of the highest tower. Scum and thugs waited everywhere, jumping, hurting and sometimes even killing everyone unlucky enough to cross their path. But today would be a bad day for that kind of people.

It took him mere minutes to pick a fight. Only a few blocks away from the place where he had suited up he was able to witness the first of many injustices that happend around him. A giant of a zabrak entered a small liquor shop and aimed a blaster at the owner. The alien growled words, more like an animal than an actual sentient person.

"Give money."

The brutish creature hammered down his claw like hand on the counter, while the owner nervously began to collect the money for the robber. That was Blank's cue. Quickly he pushed into the shop, his right reaching for a nearby bottle of booze. Before the Zabrak found the time to interprete the sound of footsteps behind him and what they meant for his attempt to make a few quick bucks the glass shattered on the horns of his head.

Yet other than Blank had anticipated, the brute didn't dropped to the ground. Instead he stumbled around for a short moment, before turning around and delivering a blow against his attackers chest. The momentum of the hit was enough to send Blank backwards, first stumbling then falling. Then a shoot could be heard, as the owner pulled the trigger on the shotgun he had kept hidden below the counter. The projectiles had been fired into the air, but now the weapon was aimed at the two fighters.

"Get the hell outta here. Both of you."

Without another word the Zabrak stormed out, only letting out a frustrated, animalistic grunt. Blank tired to follow, but he was still in a daze from the hit he had taken. The armored figure stumbled out onto the streets.

 

[James Xerox]

Nar Shaddaa, Slums

James, or Jim to his friends, walked down an alleyway, shivering slightly from the cold breeze that didn't seem to go away from the cursed moon. The esteemed lawyer had just finished paying a visit to a client who had spent a lot of credits to see him, credits that he didn't think anyone who lived a slum could produce. She must've been saving for a long time just for Xerox to visit and basically tell the poor lady there was nothing that could be done for her. Her abusive 'landlord' wouldn't face justice, not in these parts anyways. The law could give two chits about what happened to you here or what seedy operations went on, as long as you were either quiet about it or had the credits to shut some mouths. Or the power. This landlord, a vile Quarren slum boss, happened to be under the protection of some very influential people upon the Smuggler's Moon. While it broke his heart to leave the woman in tears in her 'house' that was barely a glorified shack, hugging her daughter close, there was nothing the lawyer could do. It was out of his hands and out of his influence.

The alley was damp. Shadows were creeping out of every nook and cranny. James was aware of the notorious crime rate in Nar Shaddaa, especially in the slums, but cutting through this alley saved him at least a good hour of going around the slums and through a safer area on foot. Besides, he had his trusty hold-out blaster on him and knew how to use it. Well, nothing fancy. But his brief service in the Coruscanti Defense Force as a military lawyer did teach him how to at least hit what he wanted to shoot at.

Man, I wish I had gone for more training. Those Special Forces guys looked pretty cool...and I could've made it if I had applied myself.

One of the shadows twitched and slithered. James paused, his dress shoes landing on a puddle, which caused a big splash. His attire radiated wealth, at least more wealth than most people here would ever dream of, and it made him stand out.

In truth, upon the Smuggler's Moon, it made James Oliphant Xerox a target.

The shadow peeled away from the wall, revealing itself to be a sinister looking Devaronian, grinning wickedly while wielding a rather nasty-looking knife. One of his horns were broken, and a long scar ran down the alien's face, giving him a lopsided look. He started walking towards the human, knife in full view, his voice a low growl, vocal cords damaged by death stick usage.

"Credits. Hand them over. Now."

Xerox sighed internally.

Of course this would happen to me. Just like mom said. 'James Oliphant Xerox, you're so bright, yet so damn hardheaded.' That'll either make you a good lawyer or get you killed.

Well, mom, I don't think you meant that literally.

"Back off." James unholstered his blaster and aimed it dead center mass at the now-suprised looking thug. It stopped him in his tracks, but the Devaronian was in his way.

"Turn around and go the other way. This doesn't have to end with any of us getting hurt."

Blast! An steam vent that didn't make it's presence known until now went off, hitting Xerox directly on the head. It didn't hurt, but it did disorient him, and the alien saw this. He lunged forward with his blade. Xerox saw this and squeezed off a shot.

Blam! The bolt of energy skimmed the Devaronian's torso, making impact instead with the alley, creating a nice bit of carbon scoring on the cold durasteel. The knife went down, cutting Xerox's torso. Blood was drawn, but it was just a flesh wound. James silently thanked the fact that he had the oversight to install several protective overlays into his signature business suit. They wouldn't stop a direct hit, but it was useful for blades and bolts that wouldn't necessarily been lethal, but would've hurt like hell. If he hadn't had that installed, the alien's blade most likely would've gutted him, spilling his entrails to the damp ground.

They were now wrestling for the blaster. James swung his free hand at the thug's face, hitting him square on the jaw, but the fiend wouldn't let go. Several blows were exchanged, and over time, the weapon was thrown to the side, along with the knife, which fell down a sewer grate. The two were now exchanging blows and wrestling on the cold floor. While Xerox had military training, he wasn't a fighter. His job in the Defense Force consisted of filling out paperwork and representing soldiers that were being tried under a military court, not taking down people. That gave the hardened thug the advantage, and he was now on top of him, straddling his torso, fists raining down on James' face. He tried as best as he could to block, but his vision was rapidly growing dark as the continuous blows hit him.

Oh, kark...not like this. Come on!!! Fight, damn it! It's his life or yours!

With a mighty roar, the lawyer hit the Devaronian square in the throat, then tried to shake himself free under the alien. While the attack had stunned the thug, it wasn't enough. The Devaronian slammed back on top of him, choking him with both of his hands now. Xerox struggled, scratching, slapping, and pulling the alien's face, but it was to no avail. He had him, and he knew it.

No...n...no.

The thug pressed more of his weight down on Xerox's windpipe, and his vision again started turning black. He was seeing the world around him through a pinhole now.

S...somebody...help...

[member="Blank"]

 

[Blank]

Blank had barley come out of his state of confusion when he heard the all to common words and sounds not to far off in the distance. Credits. It was all these people cared for, no matter who they had to hurt to get them. He was so sick of this, sick of an unforgiving, unjust and blindly violent galaxy to live in. His first attempt to be a hero today had been a failure, but he didn't planned up to give up on this crusade just like this. The galaxy had to be cleansed, to much light had already been distinguished by the darkness of crime and corruption. Even if it was just him against anyone else on this moon, he would walk this path to its end, fight until either the galaxy was save or he became just another dead body thrown in a trash compactor.

The black figure arrived just in time to see as the large alien rained down punch after punch on the smaller man on the ground. It was clear by the attire of the man why he had become a target. Even beggars got robbed in the slums from time to time, so passing through in a business suit sounded pretty suicidal to him. Well as suicidal as a one man crusade against crime on Nar Shaddaa. Not to far away he could see both the knife and the blaster on the ground, while the alien was caught up chocking the stranger. He had to make a split second decision. Time was of the essence here, but a weapon would give him a better chance at surviving this encounter. No. An innocent live was worth far more than his own.

"I had a pretty bad day, and now you will have one as well."

Through the scrambler in his helmet his voice lost all of its natural sound, reduced to a distorted and low pitched sound that was blasted out of a set of small speakers before Blank's armored knee was pushed against the attackers head to push him away from his victim. But he didn't stopped there. The first strike and confused and disorientated the alien, forcing him to reduce the pressure at the man's throat, but not enough to knock him out.

He turned his head to Blank, but before he could react further a heavily armored hand pushed forward right into the aliens face. This time the impact was enough to push him off his victim completely, the attacker falling to the ground behind him, lightly stunned but not beaten. Heavy boots stamped over towards the figure on the ground, looking down at the thug.

"Time to die, scum."

The boot fell down on the man's skull once. Then a second time. Then a third. At the fourth time a disgusting cracking sound could be heard, as the aliens skull finally surrendered to weight and momentum of a human foot in metal armor.

[member="James Xerox"]

 

[James Xerox]

The pressure on James' windpipe was gone. The lawyer gasped for air, and his vision and hearing came back in a flood, overloading his senses. He turned to his side and retched, staining the floor with his lunch. A few seconds had passed, and he used that time to recover, coughing and hacking on his hands and knees. What sounded like a melon being crushed by a hammer was heard. The man slowly, ever so slowly, made his way up to his knees, then shakily stood up, grabbing the alley wall for support.

I'm...I'm alive. I'm alive!

Xerox turned around slowly, still using the wall for support. A dark figure, clad in armor, had his boot surrounded by the paste of what used to be the Devaronian's skull.

By the Force...

The sight of the alien's brain matter, caked to the floor and his savior's boot, almost made Xerox want to vomit again, if he had anything left in his stomach for that. Trying to ignore the mess on the ground, James coughed a few more times. His throat was definitely bruised, bad, and there was some blood on his white dress shirt now. Not to mention the various welts and cuts that the human now had on his face. But all in all, it could've been a lot worse.

He turned to the armored figure, his savior, and extended a shaky hand.

"You...you saved my life. Thank you..."

The realization that this cold alleyway could've been the lawyer's resting place was starting to sink in. He tried to ignore that thought and proceeded, taking a pause in his speech to cough.

"I'm...James. James Xerox. You might've hea...heard of me. I just got back from trying to help...someone. Jeez, I can't thank you enough."

[member="Blank"]

 

[Blank]

Blank refused the offered hand, but not out of disrespect. Thanks and praise weren't the reasons why he dressed up in a set of armor and ventured in the depths of cities to beat up criminals. The only things that mattered were the lives that he could save and the scum he could erase from the face of the galaxy.

"There is no need to thank me. I only did what was necessary."

The armored man looked down at the corpse in front of him, and at the blood and brain that had left strains on his boots. With a disgusted grunt, barley audible through the scrambler he reached for the cloths of the dead alien and used them to clean his armor. Then he turned back to the lawyer who still held his balance with the support of the wall behind him.

"I will finish what you started. Where?"

That fact that [member="James Xerox"] had tried to help someone on this deeply depraved world filled Blank with a warm feeling, a small glimpse of light in the darkness that devoured his heart and soul. It was good to know that he wasn't the only one in this fight, even if their methods were different.

 

[James Xerox]

"It's...at the slums. A Quarran slum lord, goes by Sussk. He abuses people and there's nothing that can be done about it."

The lawyer carefully stepped over the corpse of his attacker and picked up his hold-out blaster. Good. Still serviceable.

"If you're gonna go, be careful. That squid has connections. He tends to make people disappear, if you catch my drift."

James scratched the back of his head, frustrated.

"Look, uh, mysterious figure, I really want to help. But look at me. I can't even beat a street thug. This guy, he's gonna have hardened muscle over there. But...I wanna see this bastard taken down. Hard. So if I can help in any way, tell me. I'll do it."

[member="Blank"]

 

[Mara Illyrett]

Mara rushed across the streets of Nar Shadaa. The slum she was in wasn't safe.if she didn't get to her hide out soon, who knew what would happen. The sound of a gunshot spooked her into a sprint. As she began to run out of breath, two or three blocks away from her hideout, she glanced down an alley. A pair of figures, one dressed in black and the other as though they were wealthy, stood, presumably talking, and a corpse lay between them. Being out of breath, with her legs aching, Mara slumped to the wall, behind the corner into the alley. She decided to take stock of her loot from the day. She opened her bag, rummaging through it's contents. Credits, her blaster, a bottle of water, and.. no food. Mara swore as she realized another day with canned food, as she didn't have time to make a store run. Hopefully she had something decent tasting. But for now, she rested, tired from her sprint and day of pickpocketing.