Neon Through Rain

[Linna Beorht]

​

21:27 local: A lone radical detonates a makeshift repulsorlift scrambler in the Upper City of Taris. Close to a hundred airspeeders lose power; six people die, and forty are admitted to various hospitals with everything from broken bones to whiplash to panic attacks. Perhaps a dozen speeders and their uppercrust passengers wind up in the Lower City due to altitude issues.

22:14: Tarisian security troopers arrest the perpetrator and start him on the long road to a long sentence.

23:59: It's a rain-soaked midnight in the Lower City. The crisis has passed, and anyway it never impacted this part of town...apart from scattered socialites, elite mercenaries, courtesans and politicos, just a few Upper City folks having a rough night.

***​

​

By the time Linna stumbled on her taxi again, locals had stripped off everything but the chrome. The integrated chauffeur droid ahemmed for a tip every five seconds as sparks fountained from its torso. Someone had wedged its head through the windshield. Linna bit back a curse and kept moving. She'd seen a grimy hotel sign maybe two blocks from here, back when she'd landed a couple of hours ago. She wrapped her soaking shawl a little tighter, thanked the Force she'd worn flats today instead of heels, and drowned-ratted her way toward the hotel.

 

[Not Ordo]

The upper bunch had been having a rough night, or at least that was what the scream sheets said. Gib didn't really read much but people talked and he heard things fairly well. He wasn't much for taking advantage of people but he didn't take a lot of corporate jobs anymore and credits were credits.

He walked along the street in his simple jacket, a blaster under one arm in a concealed holster and a sawed off shotgun in a makeshift holster on his thigh. He didn't use them much, and that was still more than he liked, but you didn't get work in the lowers and mids by carrying flowers.

His plan was a long shot but it made sense to him. He was walking to find some rich upper class person who was stuck in a very not upper class place and offer them an escort up and away. He headed for the closest crash area as fast as he could which wasn't very but it was what it was.


[member="Linna Beorht"]

 

[Darth Nius]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XOzs1FehYOA​

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​

Caecillus always enjoyed chaos. He just loved the feeling of knowing that literally anything could happen at any moment. What he really respected was whatever dude set off the repulsorlift. He was just walking down the street, looking for his target (a wealthy businessman) when he spotted him. Before he could even summon his saber, an airspeeder crushed him. This was the type of stuff he lived for. He loved random moments of gore and violence. It was just so interesting to watch a man get crushed by a gigantic hunk of steel.

Regardless, Nius needed to take cover. He force jumped onto a balcony and entered somebody's apartment. There was a lady in the corner who pulled a blaster. She wasn't worth a swipe. She shot and Nius reflected the bolt to her chest. She fell to the ground, dead on impact. "What a dumb fething idea. A dude jumps a story into your apartment. You probably shouldn't attack someone that can to that when you only wield a blaster." He then explored the apartment and discovered no more people. He was so busy covering his tracks that he didn't notice the situation outside. He walked to the partially collapsed balcony. "Holy feth." He said while chuckling. There, in the street, was the wreckage of at least 200 airspeeders.

[member="Linna Beorht"]
[member="Gib"]

 

[Linna Beorht]

[member="Darth Nius"] [member="Gib"]

A blaster shot, not close and not far, rang through the rain. Linna drew a sharp, shallow breath and looked around with new eyes. The hotel was nowhere in sight - had she gone the wrong way? - and something felt off in the Force. She could only see a handful of people out and about: a transient Toydarian, a few denizens of a street choked by derelict speeder, a man on a balcony, and another coming near. He was big, too, and wearing at least one big functional weapon. He didn't feel on edge, though, or malevolent or anything along those lines. Cool, pragmatic, even-tempered: not a gangster then. He might even be able to help.

"Excuse me," she called, pulling her shawl a little tighter around her. "I'm looking for the tramway. Do you know which way I should go?"

 

[Darth Nius]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPNFVj-pISU​

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​

Standing on the balcony, Caecillus enjoyed the view. He always did love the sight of twisted metal. It just felt so... him. He always felt bent, in a way. He was always different from others. Maybe that's why he snapped. He was always teased at the academy. Being parent less was always hard, but not being able to learn other force skills but combat techniques and being bullied for it? That probably contributed quite a bit. Man I really wish I knew my dad. And my moms, if I could track her down and ki.....

"Excuse me?" A colorful near human woman asked. "I'm looking for the tramway. Do you know which way I should go?"

"Tramway? No idea." He responded. "I can help you look though. Why are you headed to a tramway anyways? Don't you see all of the chaos going on at the moment? Maybe you need an escort." Caecillus jumped down from the balcony. He approached the woman. "I'll accompany you, if you will allow it." He said coolly.

[member="Linna Beorht"]
[member="Gib"]

 

[Not Ordo]

He watched carefully from a doorway a quarter block up. He had been hoping to offer the obviously better off lady an escort. It was obvious she was better off because she smelled like good soap and with his nose he could tell he couldn't afford soap like that even on a good day.

The man who jumped down as Gib was about to comment he knew where the tram was did not smell like soap. In fact he smelled faintly of blaster gas and cooked meat. Gib had smelled that before when he first met a Mandalorian. Shot people smelled like that, it was a fact.

He didn't know what had happened for the guy to smell like that but he didn't look shot and he didn't look like he had a blaster. It was weird. Gib, didn't like the looks of it, so he stepped out.

"Hey, uh, they got a tram this way," he hooked a thumb up the street, "Just a couple blocks down and ya hook a right. I can show you both. You sure ain't from around here."

He looked around and noticed the street was way too quiet when the chance for robberies was so good.


[member="Linna Beorht"] [member="Darth Nius"]

 

[Milo Ren]

"It's quiet."

Milo paused for a second, cocking his head sideways slightly. There was, for lack of a better description, a difference in the air. He wasn't sure what it was. He was just walking down the dirty, garbage-ridden walkways of the Lower City section of Taris with his adoptive daughter, the 16 year old Freya. She gave a concerned look to her guardian. It seemed she had felt the difference as well.

"There's no sound," she stated.

"Speeders. There's none running."

The two were both oblivious to the terrorist attack that had just occurred miles above them. However, the two could smell trouble, and they both knew something was wrong. Milo grabbed Freya's hand and began to walk briskly towards the nearest turbolift.

"Let's go."

The two walked for a while. Lifts weren't exactly in commodity here, as few would want to go down in the city. Or up. Glances and glares followed both Milo and Freya, matched with hardened stares that told the locals that they were not easy targets of opportunity. Milo was dressed in a worn leather jacket, with a few modifications made to enhance the protective properties of it, and his lightsaber sat hidden inside one of his many pockets, safely concealed. On a holster sat a double-barreled flechette launcher, ready to launch hot death at anyone who presented a problem. Freya openly wore her two knives as well, and she knew how to use them.

It was a long walk, but neither of them said much to each other, besides short statements. There was no tension between the two, it was simply how they communicated. Within an hour or so, the turbolift was a few blocks away. It seemed a few others were likewise making their way to it.

[member="Gib"] [member="Darth Nius"] [member="Linna Beorht"]

 

[Linna Beorht]

[member="Darth Nius"] [member="Gib"] [member="Milo Ren"]

You didn't grow up as a Zeltron woman alone in the galaxy, first on Metellos and then on Coruscant, without instincts for men. Zeltron empathy only confirmed those instincts. The second speaker, the big armed man, still struck her as unusually genuine.

The man from the balcony struck her as a serious and immediate threat.

"Thanks," she said to both of them, doing her best to seem like she meant it. "I'll take you up on that. It's getting cold out." Her wet shawl provided less than no assistance. A nice warm hovertruck, though, only three blocks away...

She looped her elbow through Gib's and sidled close. "This way, you said?"

 

[Darth Nius]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRGrNDV2mKc​

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​

Caecillus was surprised at the appearance of the weird looking alien accompanying him and the lady, who he didn't yet know the name of. Caecillus wasn't feeling particularly bloodthirsty at the moment. Actually, he was feeling something new. Something e had never experienced before. He was feeling compassionate, for both of the new characters that he had just met. He felt compelled to actually protect them from muggers and criminals. He felt.... reason. Regardless, he could tell that both of the people he was now walking with could tell that he wasn't the purest life form in the universe. "So, what are your names? If you don't mind me asking."​

​

He knew they most likely wouldn't trust a stranger, just like he wouldn't trust them. After all, all he knew about them was that one of them was a force user, and the other wasn't. You can't trust a person with only that much information, especially on this planet. "Oh, and you also never answered my question. Why are you looking for a tramway anyways?"​

​

Caecillus took a look behind the three of them and saw a two figures. The place they were walking wasn't particularly light at the moment, so he asked both of his companions, "Should I check out the two behind us?".​

​

[member="Linna Beorht"]
[member="Gib"]
[member="Milo Ren"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

The tram shuddered and stopped, and through a haze of liquor & death-sticks, Declan looked up with bleary eyes and slacked face. Shambling up, he tottered off the tram, shoulder on his wool peacoat, which had seen better days. Still he carried a leather doctors bag over one shoulder, emblazoned with the caduceus to brand his profession. It might be silly to some to try and scream he had money. But for one, he was dead broke and very happy about that with the high he had. All he had were a few stims and anti's in his coat pocket. And a half-charged bryar pistol as well.

Falling into, or leaning against, a station pillar, he lit another 'stick and inhaled deeply, feeling the cursed headache behind his eyes dull at last. This Force thing was getting out of hand, and the habit to keep it dull was making his work sloppy and his body and wallet look rough. Something had to give, and in his current state, beyond a vague inkling in the next few hours it would be his bladder... He couldn't think of what. But he sat smoking a quick smoke, fully intending on getting onto the tram once it got ready to go again. He wasn't sure how he had wound up on Taris, but the assignment paid well, and his surgical kit was fully stocked again. Including narcs and anesthetics.

Funny how he'd sneak a lethal weapon onto the tram, but refused to break the smoking rule on it. Or how he'd buy illegal death sticks, but refused to take his own narcs.

[member="Darth Nius"] | [member="Linna Beorht"] | [member="Milo Ren"] | [member="Gib"]

 

[Wesslie Khel]

They were refueling around Taris. It wasn't much of a break, but it was a break. Out of habit, their dropship idled at the starport, and their gear was stowed aboard. When things hit the fan, Wess was one of the first to get back to the dropship. He wasn't there to arm up - he was just there to get his hands on the only newsfeed her trusted.

That newsfeed was beamed to the pilots from the Acheron in orbit, and as he clasped a hand at the back of the pilot's seat, he leaned forward to study the carnage that was a few hundred speeders plummeting into the lower city. With a low whistle, he stood upright, arms folding over his chest as he shook his head, tongue clucking slowly.

"Can't go anywhere without terrorists riling up the population."

The pilot, a rather bellicose woman, gave what amounted to a snarl. "Yeah, they'd better find him and shoot him."

"Always a ray of sunshine."

Booted feet pounded up the ramp behind him, and he turned, giving them the sharp cut of his fingers over his neck to signal 'no go.' That earned more than a few disapproving looks - they'd gotten used to the adrenal high of combat - but it just meant more time for drinking. Or, rather, it would, before their commander appeared.

"Alright, Hunters. We got a mission for you." There was a sudden silence that passed for a nonvocal sigh in this team. "Suit up, you've a person to find. You're Code Red. Sending the personnel file now."

That raised a few brows. Code Red was deadly force. The radical was at large, though, and the Lower City was no-man's-land. It was surprising, but not wholly unexpected. An image of [member="Linna Beorht"] flashed onto the screen, and this time, there was a collective sigh.

 

[Linna Beorht]

Sending [member="Darth Nius"] to check on [member="Milo Ren"] legitimized Nius but put some distance between him and Linna. "I think that's a good idea," Linna said quickly, sidling a little closer to @Gib.

In other circumstances, she'd have been more assertive, dominant even. Her political and socioeconomic status allowed her exactly zero advantages down here in the Lower City, not compared to muscles and guns. Or maybe that was the soaked shawl talking. Assertive composure was tricky for a drowned rat.

Two blocks to the tram. Just two.

[member="Declan Ross"][member="Wesslie Khel"]

 

[Darth Nius]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3Os2Z6OF60​

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​

​

Caecillus knew exactly why he wasn't getting answers, but still wanted them. But for once, he felt moral, so he wasn't going to force the answers out of either of them, although he's sure he easily could. The man was large, but he wasn't force sensitive or overly powerful from what he could see. The woman was force sensitive, but he could tell that she wasn't a physical fighter. At least not by his standards. Both of them would be easy to overtake, especially because he had his lightsaber on him and they may only have a few measly hidden blaster at their disposal. Regardless, they did confirm that he should converge with the two behind him. He turned around and approached the couple.​

​

Walking towards them, he noticed that neither of them looked menacing, so he didn't even draw his lightsaber. He was that they were a wealthy looking man and woman that was just walking, most likely to the tramway. "What might a fine gent and lady like yourselves be doing on such a dangerous street?"​

​

[member="Linna Beorht"]
[member="Gib"]
[member="Milo Ren"]
[member="Declan Ross"]

 

[Milo Ren]

One of the men broke away from the group and began walking quickly towards Milo and Freya. His gut told him something was off about the man. The way he carried himself, the scent of darkness. His hand squeezed Freya's, as a slight warning to her.

"Look sharp."

The armored man asked them what they were doing on the street. Milo gave a hard glare, then spoke, voice gruff and threatening.

"Kark off."

The two continued walking, passing the man. Freya had let go of Milo's hand, and she kept hers close to the handles of her knives. His rested openly on the handle of his flechette launcher.

[member="Darth Nius"] [member="Gib"] [member="Declan Ross"] [member="Linna Beorht"]

 

[Wesslie Khel]

They dusted off quick, and strapped into their harnesses, they barely felt the jolt of the wind as the dropship swung itself wide, out around the cordon established by the local law enforcement. They'd instituted a no fly zone in the immediate area plus some - at least that's what he was registering from the annoyance of their pilot - and so they had to swing wide and set down some ways away. When the ramp lowered, they went down, their rifles in hand.

Each was an olive drab carbine, loaded with caseless ammunition. It was perfect for those long runs between resupply, and the carbine was as reliable as they came to boot. He'd once purposefully left a rifle submerged in mud for an hour and pulled it out. All he'd done was clear the barrel and the thing had more or less worked - more or less cause he'd fired it once then decided to strip and clean it. "Alright, target is likely headed for a tram."

"A Tram?" Someone asked from behind - probably Winters.

"Yeah, a Tram. You reach the Lower City either through ship, speeder, or elevator. The tram will get her to the nearest elevator platform, through which she can get back upstairs. Problem is, they'll have the elevators locked down."

"Of course they would. Heaven forbid the peasants escape."

That drew a derisive snort from somewhere in the back, and Khel shook his head. He nestled the stock of his carbine in the crook of his shoulder and pointed the barrel upward, consulting a GPS that showed them the route to the bank of elevators nearest the crash site. "Alright. Half a klick to the north. Let's get moving." The six bug hunters passed through crowds that slid into the shadows. These were mercenaries, and they were clearly on a mission.

Not even Lower City scum wanted to mess with mercenaries on a mission. That might just work in their favor.

[member="Linna Beorht"]

 

[Linna Beorht]

@Gib@Darth Nius[member="Declan Ross"][member="Milo Ren"][member="Wesslie Khel"]

A hovertruck sloshed past. Its repulsors kicked up spray from the gutters. Linna released Gib's arm and cursed, stripping off her shawl. The blasted thing was just keeping her cold. Now that the rain fell straight on her shoulders and arms, it felt more manageable somehow, less oppressive. She couldn't have said why.

Doing her best to stay aware of her surroundings, she struck off in the general direction of the tram station. Two more blocks should do it. Ideally.

 

[Wesslie Khel]

They made good progress, as no one wanted to stop the group of mercenaries. Despite their haggard appearance, and generally scuffed looking gear, it was clear they were on a mission. It was amazing what a gun and a sense of purpose could get you through. In this case, the crowds parted like an ancient sea, and they followed the handheld GPS within the grasp of their point-man. Down here, the lights were dim, and the base of the skyscrapers dark and foreboding.

"Lamps." The order was passed along the line, and the shoulder mounted lights snapped into being. Beams of yellowed light criss-crossed the smoke and flame like erratic lighthouses. "Almost there!"

Wess nodded, catching up to the pointman. His hand came up to press to the outside of his headset, and he contacted the dropship where their Lieutenant was monitoring the situation. "Sir, we're closing in on the tram station." The group ditched out of the way of a speeding hovertruck, a few curses thrown in it's wake, and the patrol tightened up again.

"I hate truck drivers." He mutters.

[member="Linna Beorht"]

 

[Linna Beorht]

[member="Wesslie Khel"]

The open-air station held an emaciated Hutt and a family of piously clad Bith. The Hutt made Linna a crude offer and hooted in surprise when she took offense. Hutts always unnerved her: she couldn't read their subtler emotions, at least not well. Their minds didn't line up well with her empathic senses. She sat by the door, ready to adjourn if necessary, while the Hutt relieved itself in the channel where the tram would roll.

A new sensation brushed the back of her mind: focused thoughts, in a group. Cold, clean, professional, getting close. The door didn't seem like a good way to go anymore, not if this gang or whatever they were decided to step in. Maybe the tram channel would do if things really did get dicey.

 

[Wesslie Khel]

"Station in sight." Winters looked back to the group, giving a nod.

They came to a stop outside, looking through the crowds that still gave them a bit of a berth. "I don't like this." He says flatly.

"Why?"

"I don't know who's in there."

"Yeah, well, considering anyone in these crowds could stab or shoot us at any time, I don't see the problem."

His lips pursed, and then he acquiesced with a nod of his head. "Alright, Winters. Put the GPS away and take point." She nodded, taking her rifle up, but keeping it a low ready rather than actually pointing it at anyone. The group lined up, readying their rifles, and then at the back of Winters, they entered the tram station.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Though he was undoubtedly massively intoxicated on his 'sticks and other narcs, nothing could quite dull senses honed in Republic Special Forces, or the boost his latent Force Sensitivity gave them. Danger tickled his nose, and he grudgingly opened eyes, waking from a stupor and fumbling with an auto-jector. It hissed as he put it to his thigh, and a self-made antidote to the 'sticks course through his veins. The rapidity of it still made his nose bleed slightly, and he wiped the trickle away. muttering a bit as he stood. To all the world, he was just a junky with a schedule, and that honestly wasn't that abnormal in the medical profession.

Eye found [member="Linna Beorht"], and he watched closely as his senses came back to him slightly ahead of coherency. He didn't approach yet, but fell into step behind. This young woman was in danger, and he felt as his parents did. He'd take a back seat, but it was his self-possessed duty to protect those like her from the scum he routinely patched up. Checking the safety on his scattergun was disguised smoothly as drawing a cigarette out and lighting it with a match struck against the rough duracrete of the pillar he was leaning against just prior. Puffs of smoke followed as he tried to sort thoughts and impulses out from his empathic senses suddenly now screaming at him.

[member="Wesslie Khel"]

Breathing deep, he wiggled his eyebrows as his high died.