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Faction Raid on Nar Shaddaa [AoC]

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Time: Weekend Night



The Black Suns. While despised by some in the civilized regions of space they never knew how truly grateful they should be. True, the organization dealt in goods and services deemed unsavory by most, but at the same time, they kept their competition in check. They, like the great Hutt Criminal Empire of old, brought a certain eloquence to the galaxy’s underworld a certain ‘respectability’ knowing precisely when to show their hand and how to apply pressure where to get precisely what they wanted.

When news of the Black Suns emerged, which seemed to indicate that they had begun to lose control of their Criminal Empire, it did not take long before Chaos erupted. Gang violence soared overnight with small organizations on Nar Shaddaa seeking to gobble up the scraps which the Syndicate could no long cling to. The commotion caused a rush on foodstuffs leading to shortages on basic necessities in most stores as the citizens wanted nothing more to lock themselves in their homes… Truly, a dark day for the people of Nar Shaddaa, but one man’s disaster is another’s opportunity…

Dyre paced in the lobby of his hotel in which he and his men were staying. He had hoped to stay on Nar Shaddaa for some time, but unfortunately, this was not going to be the case, he hadn’t been thawed a month and already he would have to relocate. He had no desire to get his men embroiled in a territory war on this damnable world and he had the sick suspicion that were they to stay, at least some of the locals would look to he and his men for protection and this was a role he could not take on at present. Not when concerns about the financial security of he and his men were still so very real.

When he had heard the news, he had coughed up 15,000 credits to get an old repulsor truck to haul their belongings to the spaceport. He had already dispatched the first load with most of their more valuable property and more than half of his men had already arrived at the spaceport to ensure the safety of their ships.

Though he moved to minimize the risks, Dyre was not unfamiliar with the potential to profit in such situations. Gangs would be spread thin. The lesser gangs would have suffered casualties and their enforcers would be spread thing between protecting their territory and trying to lay claim to that of their competitors. Those that had the guts and the knowhow could make a fortune during times like these and a fortune was precisely what he and his men needed.

“Last load is secure Captain” he heard the familiar voice of Lieutenant Tanner say. “Do you want us to send the truck back for you?”

“I do” Dyre said

He turned and looked to the men who had volunteered to stay. Twelve men, armed and armored sat in the hotels entrance and two more would drive and guard the truck. He looked them over with pride. “They don’t make men like us anymore" he said, exuding confidence. "Gangbangers aren’t a match for proper soldiers.” After a short wait they heard a ‘honk’ from the truck and they quickly filed out and took seats in the bed. “Corporal, take us to Euphoria”…

“The bar on level 44 sir?” The driver asked.

“That is the one.” Dyre responded. Dyre opened a box in the bed of the truck which was filled with stun collars. “We are gonna bleed some alien bastards dry.” The men each took several of the collars as the truck began to descend to the lower levels.
 

Hacks

Shadowrunner
Writer
[ T H E M E ]



"Who's the hot shots?" she mused.​

Hacks had been enjoying a bowl of Kowakian ramen when she noticed the commotion. This wasn't regular hustle and bustle of Nar Shaddaa, this was something else. Something that the trained eye of an underworld criminal would notice. No doubt KV-N1 had their collective hive mind monitoring all coming and goings in the Refugee Sector and surrounds what with the internal decline and collapse of the Black Sun Syndicate, reflective of what happened to the Hutt Cartel and Red Raven Syndicate. They became old news.

Live fast, die young, and so did the cartels. They never lasted long. Crime lords came and went on the Smuggler's Moon faster than a junkie can burn through his spice. Sure, some of these crime lords became legend, the elusive Black Sun Vigo Domino, the cruel Hutt Cartel Kajidic Sempra the Hutt, renown pirate Flannigan McNash and suave master manipulator Lysle of the Hydian Way. The rest of the crime lords were entirely forgotten or turned up dead in someones dumpster - either way it went there was always some new suit ready to replace them.

Hacks shoveled a mouth-full of her noodles and stood from her perch atop the roof of an apartment complex, her eyes on the truck below. "What do you fella's want," she murmured, studying the soldiers. She began to move, breaking into a light jog and then crouched suddenly as she reached the rooftops edge. Her denim jacket opened up and a set of mechanical arms protruded from under her own set of fleshy limbs. Cybernetics. Metal fingers gripped the duracrete edge with such force that cracks appeared, then pushed off from the building, propelling Hacks through the air towards a nearby rooftop. She landed and stumbled, gained her balance and ran past a billboard, balancing her bowl of ramen in a free hand.

It was true she had only recently aligned with the Black Sun Syndicate but noticing their influence wane over Nar Shaddaa she quickly abandoned ship. There were a thousand other gangs that would have her dead if she remained affiliated for much longer and Hacks was in the business of longevity. She had no personal interest in learning what these soldiers had in mind but there were half a dozen small-time gangsters who she knew she could rely on for credits for useful information. Maybe these soldiers would provide her her next paycheck. She was going to shadow them.
 
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As the truck descended to the lower levels one of the men turned to Dyre. “Captain, my apologies, I don't mean to speak out of line but, is there some reason why you are wanting to go to war with the mob?”

Dyre placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Going to war is a bit excessive" He thought for a moment until an appropriate analogy came to him. "Tell me, have heard stories of a business closing and employees taking various equipment because nobody will miss it?”

The trooper nodded “Obvious, but I don't see how this relates?”

“Don't think of the Black Sun as a 'Government'. It isn't. Think of them as operation managers of thousands of small businesses which they just keep in check. They controlled these groups and used them to further their own agenda. They were nothing more than tools of the Black Sun. In a month or two things will have changed here dramatically small groups will eat one another, gang leaders will go missing and nobody will care. That is the way things go with criminal organizations”

“So these guys are basically the Black Sun's office supplies?” The young man asks.

“Office supplies that can shoot back, albeit poorly, but the point still stands. We need to get off this rock before shit goes downhill and we might as well take some nice staplers with us. No point in wasting a perfectly good opportunity to make some money for ourselves. Can't live in a hotel for the rest of our lives.”

As the truck arrives by Euphoria they find that the place is open though the street is completely abandoned. No bouncer stands outside and no line of customers waiting to go in. Though the music coming from inside indicates that they are engaging in business as normal. The marines, along with their captain, climb from the truck and prepare their weapons. “Set your rifles to stun Dyre orders, and opening the door motions for his men to enter.

Blue flashes can be seen and startled yells heard from inside as the marines rush in with Dyre guarding the entrance. In less than two minutes one of the troopers returns to Dyre. “They are down captain, getting them collared, any other orders?”

“Take anything of value that that isn't nailed down, I will call Tanner and have him send the transport.” The trooper offers a quick salute and returns inside.

“Lieutenant Tanner” Dyre says into his com... “This is Captain Redwave, I need you to dispatch the transport to my location.” Upon hearing a “Yes sir” he returns to keeping watch. As he kept watch, his men began to drag out their plunder. Canisters of spice, cases of expensive wine and liquor the stun-collared staff, a cash register, a few cheap weapons and a small safe and even some boxes of dehydrated food. 'Tonight' Dyre thought 'was going to be extremely profitable'.
 

Hacks

Shadowrunner
Writer
Hacks had been shadowing the truck as it descended into the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa. Down here the sun was a rare sight and the sky rained acid. Thick acrid smog filled your lungs with every breath as WeatherNet struggled to operate in the suffocating concrete jungle that was the lower levels. Every street and alley was near pitch black. Street lights dimly lit paths and the occasional trash can was lit aflame for warmth by some homeless cretin of this morbid underworld.

Just about everyone down here was either looking for a fix or a fight. It was survival of the fittest but those that dwelled down here were not usually fit, unless it was one of the gangs who ruled as supreme leaders over this decrepit hellscape. Gang muscle was easily able to strong-arm the impoverished junkie residents and small-time smugglers. Albeit this time Hacks wasn't witnessing the gangs forcing their will on the residents, but the soldiers enforcing it over a gang.

She stood in the pitch black shadows of the startowers and ziggurats above. Four hands, two flesh, two mechanical, in her pockets. Her glasses sat smoothly over her eyes as she scanned the events unfolding nearby. Neural signals sent messages to her glasses and they zoomed in, recording what she was watching. As she did so the feed was instantly being uploaded and saved onto a cloud on the CryptNet, offering the video to whichever gang wanted to buy the information. It was unlikely any would bite.

Perhaps a gang associated with the one being steamrolled would be interested in purchasing the footage so that they could track down the soldiers. Either way their purposes and business was of no interest to her, she just wanted a quick cred. As the soldiers began to load up their loot and the collared thugs, Hacks tugged at her collar, cut the feed and slid her large glasses back up onto the crown of her head. She eyed the soldiers one last time and turned her back to them and hovered her hands over a lit trashcan.
 

Aster Jen'allé

Bio-engineered Bad Bitch
Writer
Hacks Hacks Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave

It wasn’t sightseeing or any other ill-advised vacation that brought Aster to the back-alley hellhole of Nar Shadaa but instead orders from the Agents of Chaos. The directive was simple: spread a little chaos here, incite some anarchy there, any resources pilfered were a plus, and maybe try to recruit some disenfranchised mobsters while she was at it. When the orders came through Aster had shown staunch resistance at first, she hadn’t really joined the Agents for the cause, but after some sweet talking by Lady Scherezade: Aster finally capitulated. After all, there were few others from the AoC with more deep an understanding of the intricacies of street gangs than the woman who once sat at the head of one, and those who could lay claim would struggle to match her in brute strength.

She walked down the suffocating streets of the lower levels before stopping at a corner and leaning back against the wall. Her hand slithered into one of the pockets on her relatively minimalist lightweight body armor to grab a small subtly glittery-blue pouch, tearing off the seal, before opening the zip top and pulling out a small round nut. Normally she reserved her limited supply of binlang nuts, the highly addictive fruit of her homeworld, for the cutting chill of her endoskeleton’s cooling cycle, but this time she just needed one to relax. The small black nut in her hand quickly disappeared into her mouth where its psychoactive compounds were released by a firm bite. Waves of gentle warmth washed over every nook and cranny of her body and she closed her eyes, temporarily ignoring the nearby commotion as something entirely normal on the streets, before opening them again to keep a watchful eye on the proceeding violence portrayed by Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave and his men. She was now ready to begin her mission, but she wouldn’t budge an inch from the spot she had occupied. After all, in the world of street gangs, patience and a strong arm were her greatest allies.
 
The rain made no difference to Dyre and his men. The breathing units in their helm filtered the air they breathed and their armor kept them comfortable in the midst of their disgusting environment. Inside, the only notable effect was the occasional pattering of droplets.

Dyre had a sick suspicion he was being watched and he began to peer through the darkness around him though nothing stood out. 'probably some urchin' he thought to himself.

His attention shifted suddenly as he heard the transport approach. He saw the vessel slowly lowering itself. The hatches on either side opening to allow cargo to be loaded. Half a dozen men exited the craft and began loading.

With enough eyes looking outward due to the loading process he looked down to the prisoners. It didn't take much guessing to determine which was the manager of the establishment.

The manager was obviously the only Gran in the pile. He was, afterall, the only being in the pile who was wearing anything close to resembling professional and looking neither like a whore nor an addict. He reached into the gran's pockets and removed a small black book a credit chit and keys for an air speeder. He tossed the credit chit casually into the transport and began to scan over the small book.

He poured through the book, a veritable who's who of his local purveyors of illicit goods. He eventually settled upon a target.

Maricuria's Self Storage, that would be their next target. He monitored as the remaining goods were loaded, told the pilots to get back and drop off the cargo asap and motioned for his men to get in the truck once more. He handed the driver the small book and pointed to the next address.

As he was about to once more board the feeling that he was being watched returned. He looked again noticing nothing but still the suspicion remained. He tossed the keys he had found on the ground near the only speeder he saw that matched the make written on the key. "Have fun" he said, loud enough where those in earshot could hear. He then turned and boarded the truck, taking a seat with his men.


"Sir..." one of the troopers asked, confused by the display he had just seen. "Any reason why you just did that?"

Dyre replied only "Charity" as the truck pulled off and began ascending to the 61st level.

Tag: Hacks Hacks Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé
 

Vale Vynar

Dark Jedi
Character
The Black Sun were a plague on the galaxy. No one would dispute that, Jedi or Dark Jedi. So when Vale had received the dispatch to eliminate one of the higher ups of the organization the Kiffar didn't bat a frost colored eyebrow at it. It wouldn't be the most difficult job he'd ever undertaken and with the Black Sun in disarray on Nar Shadaa it would be even easier.


He was looking for a Devaronian named Laohr Ruhrk, a former big shot in the Black Sun. If he was left unchecked he would most likely be the one to form the next big cartel to take control over the illicit activities on the planet. Usually a Devaronian wasn't too hard to find, but on Nar Shadaa there were plenty of places to hide.


Vale was crouched on a nearby rooftop, ignoring the greasy rain as it matted his white hair to his pale, angular face as he watched the soldiers loading up their vehicle from the hotel. This was no business of his but it was good to keep an eye on things going on in his area of operation.


Movement on the rooftops opposite him drew his attention in that direction and he saw a woman leaping from building to building with a set of cybernetic arm additions and what appeared to be...ramen clutched in her hands. “Well, you don't see that every day.” The assassin said to himself as he watched the woman make her way across the rooftops.


She was clearly trailing the soldiers and that intrigued him enough to follow her. Maybe there could be some information he could earn from this situation. Vale effortlessly kept pace with the truck full of soldiers and the woman moving across the rooftops using the Force to cushion his landings and to propel him across large gaps until the soldiers went down into the lower levels.


This part of the planet was even more unsavory than the main levels if one could believe it. Vale wrapped himself in the Force to keep the more acidic rain from his body and to keep from inhaling the fumes. Even someone as skilled in stealth as he would stick out like a sore thumb in this environment.


Most people knew better than to look at him though, but then there were the spice users and thugs who saw someone in fancy armor that was worth more than everything they owned. They were each dealt with small hand gestures and making suggestions through the Force that they forget they ever saw him and go about their business. He pulled his dark hood up over his head and slipped into a dark alcove, fixing his golden eyes on the woman trailing the soldiers.


What happened next was interesting as the soldiers breached a nightclub and hauled everyone out in stun collars and began loading boxes into a separate transport. Vale reached out with the Force and picked up some snippets of conversation among a few of the soldiers. They were taking advantage of the in-fighting between all the gangs and looking to make a big score. The woman he had followed was watching them intently, focusing on the transport more than anything. His eyes darted between her and the soldiers twice before he put together that she was recording the scene.


“Very clever,” He said. A whole lot of someone's profits had just been loaded up and taken away and whoever owned those items was going to want them back. If anyone took the bait to buy the recording she'd probably make a nice pay day.


If credits were what she wanted then maybe he had found someone to help him narrow down where Laohr Ruhrk was holed up.


He waited until the soldiers departed and then made his way to the trashcan she was huddling over as if she was just another denizen. “Recording video evidence of a heist to resell to the owner of the freshly stolen goods seems like a hazardous racket to run.” He said as he gestured with his hand and some nearby debris floated up off the ground and into the trash can to increase the size of the flames. “You seem like someone who can get information, if you want real money I have a job for you.”



Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave , Hacks Hacks , Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé
 
The sound of the rain began to patter more heavily against Dyre's helmet. Though the greasy substance was disgusting he found the sound relaxing and it calmed his nerves. Even when fighting untrained enemies, combat was still risky business and he appreciated the presence of the rainfall.

As they parked, Dyre looked around and inspected the area. It was dimly lit, but through the darkness he could make out the sights of a few locals wandering around. They appeared to lack any purpose which lead Dyre to believe them to be vagrants or wage workers who had been threatened to show up for work in spite of the unsettled social order on the planet. Though these filthy wretches' problems were their own to solve, he did sympathize with them. A part of him hoped that this shake up would make their lives better in the long run though he knew it wouldn't. Fighting between gangs would become the order of the day, the deaths of citizens during such conflicts would be commonplace. Sympathy for their lot in life was not enough to warrant his intervention however.

Dyre motioned his men forward until all were standing near the entrance to a dilapidated of building with an equally dilapidated sign which had at one time read 'Maricuria's Self Storage'. Though now the sign was only partially lit and it was badly stained with filth and faded with the passage of time.

The door was locked and appeared to be reasonably secure. This might have been a problem to a sneak thief but if their was one thing military life had taught him, it was that explosives solved most problems.

"Melt it" Dyre ordered to one of his men who set about placing a pair of small charges to the lefthand side of the door. The men took a step back and the trooper placing the charges ignited each charge with the push of a button.

The charges began to glow a bright red and soon the metal around them began to melt. Several onlookers stopped fod a moment to see what was happening but seemed mostly indifferent, content to not get involved and live another day.

Soon the lefthand door fell apart in a pool of molten metal, revealing the interior of the building.

The interior showed clear signs of water damage and dozens of puddles could be seen on the floor of a long hall down from the entrance. It appeared as if it had been abandoned years ago.

"Keep your eyes open marines. We are dealing with thugs who think a ten credit blaster turns them into a tough guy but if they shoot you it will still hurt."

With that, six of his men moved in to inspect the facility as Dyre and the others watched the exterior.

Tag: Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé Hacks Hacks
 

Hacks

Shadowrunner
Writer
Hacks had been warming her hands for sometime, the transport having left the area. At some point she had dropped her glasses back down, syncing to the CryptNet and rapidly scanning for buyers. Her neural connection transmitting messages to the glasses that brought up information on the lenses. She had contacted Svel Droma, the former Red Raven information broker and discovered the identity of the gang that had just been shafted and she began to track members and allies, offering the recording to the highest bidder. No one was particularly hungry for the footage but eventually someone caved and bought it.

A notification from her cred account flashed,
1,250 credits had just been deposited. She sent the video to the client and wiped her memory bank of the footage. She flipped her glasses back up and began to turn when she was startled by the unknown man,“Recording video evidence of a heist to resell to the owner of the freshly stolen goods seems like a hazardous racket to run.” Hacks frowned, how in the hell did he know that? she furiously thought. A flash of messages from her neural connection to her glasses quickly probed if her security measures had been breached. No, nothing. Her head tilted, confused, leaving him in silence as she was mentally occupied elsewhere.

Her eyes darted down as she watched his hands move, she was just about ready to pull her hold-out blaster from her waist when she noticed he didn't draw on her, then nearby trash began to raise from the ground and float into the drum, fueling the flames. She had heard of sorcerer-monks that traveled the stars but she had never met one. Her distrust sharpened. “You seem like someone who can get information, if you want real money I have a job for you.

"Don't work for people I don't know," she said, plucking a bright yellow death stick from her pocket, rather than the usual liquid form it was the crystallized form, she placed it in a pipe and lit up. She blew the smoke in the face of Vale, "Fuck off kid," and began to walk away, drawing from her death stick as her vision began to intensify, the once grey world becoming far more vibrant. Neon lights now dancing. With her two hands of flesh in their pockets, her left mechanical arm holding the pipe she raised the right mechanical hand, showing her middle finger to Vale.

Vale Vynar Vale Vynar | Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé | Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave
 

Aster Jen'allé

Bio-engineered Bad Bitch
Writer
Aster watched the situation unfold: at first it seemed like a simple case of military interests trying to beat the local riffraff into submission, but as it progressed more and more sentient cargo was placed onto a transport. Slavers? In the instant between the formation of a thought and its climax a search was performed in databases available to her neural network. References to one, “First Order,” now supposedly defunct, appeared in reference to the armor the soldiers were wearing. The armor did appear slightly different, “perhaps this is a special forces unit?” Aster went over the ramifications of this: if a supposedly defunct interplanetary empire had special forces acquiring resources and kicking asses on Nar Shadaa in the wake of the Black Sun’s collapse… The AoC would be interested, but Aster needed to investigate things more closely if she was going to report anything back.

The apparent leader of the group tossed a set of keys to the ground before they exited the scene, but chasing the transport wasn’t really an option. Even if she took the keys to the speeder and it wasn’t booby trapped, the troopers knew what it looked like and would be watching for it and she couldn’t fight that many people alone. Aster looked around for anyone that might know something, she was treated to a slight commotion across the way from her. Two junkies having a disagreement by a lit trashcan and one of them walking away and heading in Aster’s general direction. It was odd, though, she could only see the silhouette of the one walking toward her, but something felt oddly familiar. She might find her answer to what that was soon enough.

Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave Hacks Hacks
 
"Sir" A voice came over his com channel, startling him somewhat. "We've found something". Thus far their sweep of the facility had turned up nothing of value. He had hoped this would be a change of fortune.

"Anything valuable?" Dyre replies, his voice one of cautious optimism.

"I think it would be best if you see it for yourself sir" the voice replies. "Kinda hard to describe".

Dyre tells his men outside to keep watch and enters the building. Making his way down the long hallway he is met by a marine who begins to lead him through the far door on the right.

Dyre immediately noticed something wrong as he passed from the first door. His nostrils were assaulted with the scent of decay. Under normal circumstances his air scrubbers tended to heavily dampen such scents only failing to do so when an odors concentration was too dense. The scent of rotten meat, mold and waste was strong in his helmet which meant, externally the scent would be nigh on unbearable.

"The door we are about to go though had been sealed on this side sir" The soldier says as he stops in front of a door on the left. "Best prepare yourself sir, this isnt a pretty picture"

Given that he scent had only continued to get worse, Dyre immediately expected the room to be be filled with sewage, though this would have been a prettier sight than that which awaited him.

Blood and viscera painted the floor and splattered the walls of the warehouse he had just entered. In the rear there was a docking area for small cargo ships where a light cargo ship sat with two troopers inspecting it.

On the right hand side of the room was a mangled cage and by it, the remains of some large furry creature which he believed to be a wampa. Seeing him look that way, the marine which had guided him said. "Wampa of some kind, likely killed whatever gang members he could before succumbing to its injuries."

Dyre nodded and looked to the left where he saw three large cages. the size of shipping containers though the sides were barred. Inside them he could see numerous eyes peering out at him. He walked to the cage to inspect the wares.

He couldn't get a solid count most movement he could see came from the second and third containers as the first appeared to have faced the wrath of the Wampa or so a disemboweled rodian seemed to indicate. The creature had tried to reach in and grab them no doubt, anyone who couldn't get far enough back would have been caught.

Turning Dyre called to the men who had been inspecting the cargo ship. "That thing still gonna fly?" when given an affirmative response he raised his arm to activate his com.

"Lieutenant Tanner, this is Captain Redwave, do you hear me?" Dyre said. Upon hearing an affirmative reply he continued "Get the transport to my coordinates. I need a medic, a pilot, an engineer and a few marines for a cleaning detail. Tell that medic to bring plenty of antibiotics." Dyre ordered. Again an affirmative response was given.

Dyre walked back towards the hallway. He had seen death, smelled it, but this had been truly horrific. "No point in too much thinking" he said to the Marine which had showed him in. "Somebody wanted these bastards dead, probably weakened the cage so the wampa could get out and sealed the exit behind them." There has to be some clue, some hint to determine where this gang had been headquartered and his men would find it.


Ooc: I am having issues tagging people for some reason currently. I apologize for any perceived breach of etiquette.
 
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Vale Vynar

Dark Jedi
Character
Vale narrowed his eyes on the dataslicer as she walked away. He reached out with his hand and yanked the pipe with the death stick from her grasp with the Force, a little more violently than needed just to make a point. He examined the pipe for a few seconds before discarding it into the burning trash can.

It was such a filthy habit anyway. Why people wasted away their brains on that filth was beyond him, but if it got him what he needed he wasn't against exploiting it.

“You should take care who you speak to kid and how you speak to them.” He said fixing his cold, golden eyes on her. “Especially ones who can give you the means to chase highs like you've never experienced.”

As an Silencer of the Agents of Chaos, credits weren't hard to come by. “Ten thousand credits for an hours work. Imagine the purity of the death sticks you could buy with that?” He said as he strode towards the multi-limbed woman.



Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave , Hacks Hacks , Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé ,
 

Hacks

Shadowrunner
Writer
The hallucinogens must have been kicking in hard despite the diluted crystal because Hacks swore she was looking at a spectre from her childhood. Aster was standing just a few meters ahead of her. Someone she had not seen in roughly twelve years, back when she ran with an old gang. Her brow furrowed and she smiled, but that quickly vanished when her pipe left her lips. Spit jumped out from her lips as the pipe had been violently yanked from her by the Force user.

She spun around and watched the pipe land in the hands of Vale, who tossed it into the trash can. "Oh no," she fumed, mockingly, "You destroyed my two-credit pipe." Her mechanical set of arms folded across her chest powerfully as her other arms rested on her hips. All four hands wore gloves covered in studs and spikes. Hacks flicked her head up and whipped her head back down, the glasses falling over her eyes. Neural messages instantly began to ping to her CryptNet network. Messages flashed internally across her glasses.

Ten-thousand from a total stranger? Sure-fire way of ending up on the end of a securi-cop sting operation. "Fine, not a kid. I'll correct myself," Hacks said to Vale. "I. Don't. Work. For. People. I. Don't. Know. Old man." A distressed status flagged her account on the CryptNet, notifying allies of her position. "Now I'm telling you, don't farkin' mess with me because I'm sick of know-it-alls thinking they can push everyone around."

She stood her ground as Vale walked closer. Her glasses illuminated with messages and she hit the recording feature, streaming the feed live to the bounty hunter Julian Valentine and information broker Svel Droma. Her location was dropped to them, among others. As she stood there her world became distorted with colours, blurring endlessly. Hacks was not the best gunslinger or brawler but she knew how to stand up for herself and protect herself - even when high off her bloody mind on hallucinogens. The strength of the wolf was the pack.

Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave
 

Aster Jen'allé

Bio-engineered Bad Bitch
Writer
As the figure approached closer, Aster felt more pangs of recognition; however, genetic modifications and other procedures during her forced tenure in the BSF super soldier program had done some damage to the shape of her memories, and the effects of binlang certainly didn’t help. She watched as a lit pipe was somehow pulled from the woman’s lips, causing the woman to spin around in frustration. The other assumed junky moved toward the girl, spouting something that Aster could hardly hear, before the girl folded four arms and made what Aster was able to determine as a snarky remark. “four arms…” Aster thought to herself before the wheels in her head started spinning,

“Is that…” The words came out under her breath as her body started moving forward urgently. “Hacks?”

Her mind conjured forth the name, but the fragmented memories couldn’t piece together what exactly that name meant to her. Still, she felt an almost maternally protective instinct bubbling up from somewhere inside of her. She was now in a place where she could hear what was being said,

"Now I'm telling you, don't farkin' mess with me because I'm sick of know-it-alls thinking they can push everyone around."

All signs pointed to a potential fight; Aster’s endoskeleton and muscles bristled in preparation. As soon as she was in reasonable shouting distance of the sickly pale man, she called out to him,

“Echuta, junky. Go find your high somewhere else,” she motioned with her head, “or I’ll rip your arms from their sockets and beat you to death with them.”

Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Hacks Hacks Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave
 
A ripped soggy postcard, mite eaten paperwork from last century and what was believed to have been, at one time, a box or children's books though were now more mold than paper. They had found nothing to tell them where they could find who was in charge.

He sat with a pair of NCOs in the cargo hold of the transport that they had found. They were listing off places where they had looked trying to figure out if anything remained, though they got nowhere. Perhaps there was no knowing and they would have to simply try their luck at some other hole in the wall establishment to get a lead. While ransacking places like these was easy money, he and his men needed something more substantial.

Their conversation was interrupted as one of the cages, its repulsorlift repaired and those inside having been washed somewhat and given a heavy dose of antibiotics, was pushed on board. For a moment he considered asking one of the slaves, but they likely weren't even fit to tell a story correctly yet, given what they had been through.

Just as he was about to pull out the small book he had found in Euphoria to take another stab at getting some intel, he saw something, a place which nobody had checked. The bloated wampa corpse still lay where they had found it...

Taking a knife for cutting line from the cargo hold, he made for the wampa and set about his grisly task. extracting the stomach and intestines and rummaging through their contents. The creatures digestive track contained the general articals one might expect in previously looted pawn shop. Cheap jewelry, a pocket pistol and even the remnants of a chewed radio. Luck was on their side though for just when it seemed all hope was lost, they found, inside the tatters of a half digested pair of pants a wallet.

The ID in the wallet indicated that it belonged to a Zeltron names Raymondo. Business cards in the wallet further confirmed this. Raymondo had been the general manager at the Helix Nightclub.

Dyre was familiar with the establishment by reputation, having seen ads for it but had never been there. It was supposed to be a gem in the otherwise disgusting lower levels with numerous DJs and bands across eight venues inside. "Helix Nightclub" Dyre said, tossing the card to one of his NCOs. "If their general manager was here, then we know that place is run by the same group. Probably going to be guarded but we can handle it." they nodded as Dyre exited the craft. "We got another lead boys! Let's get this mess sorted and get moving! I want us to be rich by sunrise!"

Though he knew this wouldnt solve all of their problems, this would put them in a place where they could operate comfortably for some time. If nothing else they could find some shithole of a spacer's station to get a half decent steak at. That, at least, would be an improvement from dehydrated and canned foodstuffs they had been living on.

He joined his men in completing their tasks so that they could be upon their way as soon as possible.

Tag: Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé Hacks Hacks
 

Vale Vynar

Dark Jedi
Character
Vale let his head drop a fraction of a millimeter as a second voice joined in with the deathstick junkie in front of him. Her threats were rather amusing though.

“Careful with your words.” He said to the newcomer. “I'm no pathetic junkie. I am a Silencer of the Agents of Chaos and I'd shatter you into a thousand pieces before you ever managed to lay a finger on me.”

The Dark Jedi turned assassin had spent years developing his use of the shatterpoint technique to direct it on living beings. Surging the Force into all the small fault lines of the cells of the being in extreme amounts and turning them into a messy puddle. It was an effective means of dealing with the targets he was assigned.

There was no fear of him coming off of either of the two people he found himself arguing with and he certainly wasn't afraid of them so this situation was becoming rapidly more interesting.

“I offered the junkie here a job and she turned it down, maybe you'd like the credits instead? All I need is information.” He said turning towards the new comer and clasping his arms behind his dark cloak.



Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé Hacks Hacks
 
Svel’s picture appeared for only a moment as Soloman ate the noodles, a few hanging from his lip as he the information broker spoke -​
Found her.”​
And in a moment, her coordinates were beamed to his ship in orbit - and he couldn’t ignore what was sent. He need this hacker for the hunt for Valencia, one of the largest reliable bounties in recent years - and after hiring Koda Fett and Marcus Itera, he couldn’t skimp out now on a slicer. Just as fast as the information was sent his way, Svel disappeared - and left Soloman alone.​
He spit what noodles were left, and quickly called out -​
Get the ship on the move! We’ve got to save a slicer.”, he said as he moved to his private quarters. As much as he hated to do it - the feed was obvious, she was in serious trouble, and he needed his armor.​
---​
Gear: ArmorInferos │ (2) 'Big Iron'VibroswordVibroknife
The GS-77 slowly came down in the area near Vale, Hacks, and the others - with its guns pointed towards the people with the greatest threats. A landing track opened as it floated, and from its depth walked a Mandalorian in full armor - strapped to the teeth with guns and gumption. His jetpack lit up as he lowered himself to the ground, the metal clink of his beskar hitting the platform sounding off his arrival.​
Just as quickly, he moved the Inferos Disruptor rifle from its sling and pointed it at the nearest person, who just so happened to be the rather spooky villain Vale -​
His voice came quiet, dangerous through the vocabulator;​
The girl comes with me, or you’ll all see what a disruptor can do.”​
 
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Hacks

Shadowrunner
Writer
Hacks swayed a little on her feet, becoming increasingly disorientated as the death stick took further hold over her. In a flash who she thought to be Aster was beside her, yelling at Vale. havks' vision blurred further but her bark was just as vicious as before. "Can you just shut up," Hacks said to Vale, using a mechanical hand to mimic his mouth and mock him "I am a silencer of the Agents of Chaos. Geez.. I've seen worst-rated holoflicks with better scripts."

Some space-monk-smuck and his voodoo magic didn't scare her, no more than a ouiji board did. Sure he lifted a pipe from her lips but she'd seen better parlour tricks in her time. When Vale offered Aster the same deal Hacks slapped a heavy-handed mechanical hand on her back, "She's with me, kick it-oh shit you're real," Hacks sputtered, surprised that her hand didn't just sweep through the hallucination but made contact, she felt her. She was real.

Hacks began to laugh maniacally, the euphoria she was experiencing didn't help her fit of laughter at her own surprise. As this went on a small icon appeared on her glasses and a voice murmured into her earpiece. "Hacks, it's Svel. Valentine isn't available but a friend of his is, Mando, keep an eye out." Her eyes blinked forcefully as if to try and sober herself up. Her neural implant sent a signal back to Svel, quietly alerting her that she read her loud and clear. Just as Svel signed off Hacks heard the incoming ship, descending deep into the bowels of the underworld, and just as Svel had prophecised he had come.
 

Vale Vynar

Dark Jedi
Character
Okay now things were just getting out of hand. Vale let out a breath as he summoned his lightsaber into his palm and activated it, casting the area in it's violent red glow. “Lower your weapon Mandalorian.”

This was an entirely new situation for the assassin. He was not accustomed to being drawn into things like this. It was clear the slicer was falling under the spell of the deathstick she'd partially consumed. He had been threatened to have his arms ripped off by another woman and now he had a highly illegal disruptor rifle pointed at him and all because he had asked for some information.

Needless to say he was ready for this day to be over.

“As far as I'm concerned you can take the junkie, she's of no use to me anymore in her state.” He nodded in the direction of Aster. “Between the hairless-wookie over there and the slicer, I'm better off finding my Devaronian alone.”



Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave Aster Jen'allé Aster Jen'allé Hacks Hacks Soloman Priest Soloman Priest
 

Aster Jen'allé

Bio-engineered Bad Bitch
Writer
This was an odd turn of events; white knights were crawling out of the woodwork like so many termites. Aster would like to have been happy that Hacks was safe, but any chance she had of playing this off like a simple brawl was completely lost. To make matters worse she had absolutely no clue how to get to the stormtroopers by this point. Just as Aster really got lost in thought, the tall pale one ignited his red lightsaber, the first time she had seen one. Aster took a moment to compose herself as Vale sat on his end of what appeared to be a standoff. The binlang nut in her mouth, now just a dry husk, only served to annoy her as the cooling cycle of her endoskeleton greeted her with a sharp chill. To add insult to injury the man at the wrong end of a numbers disadvantage threw a derogatory at her: Aster was good at dishing insults, but she didn't take well to them,

"Just piss off already,"

She spat the binlang husk onto the ground aggressively and continued.

"Oh, and if you see Scherezade before I do, tell her to let me know before she sends me to the same planet as a glowstick wielding space monkey."

Aster punctuated her sentence by using her heavy soled boots to launch a metal barrel at the Kiffar assassin with enough force to knock a Wookie half way back to Kashyyyk.

Vale Vynar Vale Vynar Hacks Hacks Dyre Redwave Dyre Redwave Soloman Priest Soloman Priest
 
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