Private Rainslicker

[Zee Caromed]

Taris, Talinn District | 01:55
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The Caromed Clan had maintained a presence on Taris for centuries. They did not govern the planet - even at their height, the small clan hadn't been able to claim that kind of power or authority. Taris itself was almost ungovernable by nature. Millenia ago, the planet had been a half-polluted wasteland with the ruins of endless cities broken up by patches of wasteland. Now on the other side of several invasions, galaxy-shattering conflicts, and hell itself rising? Taris had ascended to a fully polluted ecumenopolis populated with misery and wealth disparity. Taris was the gutter where those poor souls came who had yet to fall into the bottomless depths of Nar Shadda and Coruscant. It was also, conveniently, a place where a Mandalorian could always come to disappear.

The Talinn District was one of the more miserable places on Taris. Wracked by egregious wealth disparity, glittering towers of neon cast the street-level populations in an all-hours haze of polluted smog and rain. The powerful moved about in sheltered speeders, clad in protective gear whenever they had to stand beneath Taris' sky. Some of them even imported air, rather than breathe in even the filtered muck the planet produced. Deep in the Talinn district, Clan Caromed made their home. The small clan maintained holdings at every level of society, laundering witnesses, friends, and corpses from Mandalorian allies into the hungering labrynth of Taris' streets.

The Clan's main and most clear 'fortress', however, was a series of clinics and hospitals scattered through the Talinn district. Though they could not afford to dispense charity at a grand scale, these facilities ensured a constant supply of gratittude for affordable services as well as giving young Mandalorians seeking to join the Life-Bearers a place to hone their craft. Additionally, the hospitals and clinics were one of the primary ways that Caromed served the Mandalorian Empire - simply flashing your clan sigil would often be enough to speak with a doctor without questions asked.

Zee had just finished up a shift at one of these hospitals. Not as long as he might usually - he was just passing through, visiting home on his way to somewhere else. Spending a week or two at home didn't feel right without working at least a little bit, even if only one of his mothers actually cared about that sort of thing. Unfortunately, Zee lived in fear of her judgement.

After changing out of his scrubs, the svelte young man pulled a hood up and stepped out of the hospital and into the pouring rain of the Talinn district. His medical vambrace reported high toxicity - the heavily polluted rain would likely be sufficient to cause at least a rash with a few minutes of skin contact. Zee muted the alarm and continued walking. On the road, he might wear something light and freeing. But on Taris? Full body cover, waterproof. That was the starting point. Anything was better than nothing; garbage bags were preferable to getting soaked. Getting soaked in the middle of the night while walking alone was probably a death sentence.

He wore his snap-baton openly on his waist, his clan cymbol across his back. Such displays would normally make Zee uncomfortable, but in the Talinn district? Being an easy mark was the leading cause of death, easily.


Beevin Kyr'am
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[Beevin Kyr'am]

If Beviin had learnt anything as she grew older, then it would have been the lesson that, no matter how good one's intention, no matter how good their idea, flaw came in all forms, greed and envy often being the leading factor. Same as with her current mission, which saw her situated in an old, depressingly run-down apartment some twenty or thirty levels above the ground. Given, seeing how Beviin wasn't planning to enjoy her stay either ways, visuals or the local appliances hadn't be a thing she considered to be important either ways. No. The reason for picking up an unremarkable apartment, one of thousands in the same building, had been much more practical, seeing how it provided an excellent vantage point for her mission.

Her mission itself wasn't anything to brag about. Being an assassin first and foremost, bragging about how she earned her money wasn't in her blood to begin with. Certain jobs, however, the kind that called for nothing but carnage and mindless destruction, were even less worthy of a talk, even if they usually paid better. Same as today. Beviin wasn't here to take out anyone specifically. She was here to take life in just about every sentient form that came across her. To send a message to whomever her employer, or rather the one sitting behind her fixer, saw fit, and Beviik would be just the right tool for this.

Naturally, the ways to accomplish said feats were as plentiful as were the funds she had been provided to make sure the message got across and even while she certainly could have gotten away with merely bombing places at odd hours, such actions usually inspired an extreme reaction, especially the more it seemed like an actual targeted attack. Random people being gunned down on the street, however? Not so much. Even less so when said people weren't in any valuable group of people to begin with. And without proper, specialised help coming, Beviin would be safe to do her bidding as she often did, that being from a safe distance and in a way that diminished her enemies before they even caught a glimpse of her. Still, she wasn't foolish enough to leave things to chance and as such, she had prepared cautiously, having planned her routes to escape, placed traps and decoys, and having modified the apartment to suit her needs. One of the first steps to modify the apartment had been to smash the windows and tear the curtains. Enough so any passing slug neither would be able to raise suspicion nor cause too great a motion as the metal sliced through the fabric, too little to let anyone see through, especially from a distance. Lastly, a 2-in-1 jammer/communicator completed her setup.

Not that she thought she would need her decoys or traps at all as she laid on top of a table, surveilling the area just about a kilometer away, taking note of targets, which who remarkable. Anyone posing a threat to her or being able to strike back in some form. Armored carriers or vehicles as occasionally passed the area. People in areas they had no chance of escaping from. The young Mandalorian, brandishing their clan's logo, certainly wasn't amongst them as it had taken a very low priority in her mind. Someone she would dispose of last, if at all.

by the time yet another semi/armored vehicle entered area, Beviin took her shot, and as the slug left her rifle with a, overall quiet, "plop", her mind was already on another target, knowing fully too well that she would hit the vehicle's driver, leaving its inhabitants stranded as she sent slug after slug through the barrel, each impact turning a healthy, functioning being into a a crude asortement of biological spare parts.

Naturally, seeing how Zee hadn't been assessed as a threat earlier, they were left alone for the largest part, aside from the occasional blood splatter flying in their direction and every option remained open to them. But then again, would a medic leave people in need alone? Was it even wise to try to get away when there was enough cover nearby? Or did they have an ace up their sleeve that Beviin had, or hadn't foreseen?

 

[Zee Caromed]

Random acts of murder on Taris were sadly pretty common. Caromed were not the policemen of the planet, nor would they have tried to be if they had the resources and power to do so. They managed a small information network and a series of clinics and hospitals. When a gunman opened fire on an armored truck, Zee's first instinct wasn't to apprehend the assailant or intercept the bullets - it was to dive for cover and protect his head.

The caliber of rifle being used, rate of fire, and the way it punched through the armored truck suggested that there wasn't going to be much to save inside the vehicle - even if he could make it there without getting shot. He opened up his datapad to let his family know he might be in the middle of a mass shooter event, but the signal was jammed. Really didn't bode well.

The smart thing to do was to hole up somewhere safe until police or gang forces descended on whoever was shooting and resolved the problem, or to wait for them to finish killing whoever they were there to kill. Unfortunately, that appeared to be 'everyone downrange'.

As a test, Zee flipped a compact out of his pocket and used it to peek around his cover, trying to see how far away the problem was that he was dealing with.

 

[Beevin Kyr'am]

Lightning and thunder. Each time Beviin squeezed the trigger, she felt as if she were some form of primordial force. Unseen by those who got to be unfortunate enough to be affected by her doing. Too far away to form any sort of attachment to what she was causing. After all, from a certain perspective, the red mist that formed whenever one of the darts hit its target was nothing more than a natural occurrence. Something to take note of, but not think too much into. Down there, it meant that another life had been extinguished, ended the moment the superheated metal turned flesh into ash, shattered bones, forced its way through armor and even weaker shields. And it was what she would continue to do. Inhale, aim, exhale, fire. Easy as that.

Naturally, Beviin was used to it. It was the reason she snapped so hard out of her trance when a faint reflection caught her eyes. Usually suspicious reflections meant a very dangerous thing. Weapon sights. And depending on the type, it could have been either a sentry-turret, some droid or a competitor of sorts. Another sniper. Needless to say, she didn't wait a second to assess the threat and as she turned the barrel sharply, she pressed the trigger the moment she was on point. Strangely, her miralukan senses didn't pick up a life behind the reflection. Not that she particularly cared about the fact at the moment. That last shot had hurt her physically, as the air had been squeezed out of her lungs. This time she hadn't had the opportunity to exhale before firing.

Not that she needed to do lots of shooting for the foreseeable future. Anyone fortunate to be left alive long enough to get into cover, cover which was worth a damn at least, wasn't keen on coming out and for now, an eerie quietness had settled over the site of the murder as well as Beviins hiding hole, only interrupted by the occasional hum of the jammer, picking up yet another intercepted distress call. So much so, that it gave her an idea as she gave out.

"Talin sector defense on the com. Please state the type of your emergency. Take note, any false reports will be prosecuted and billed accordingly.", she finally gave out, using her jammer to broadcast in the general direction of her killing zone, allowing anyone who accepted the call to listen, even if only one was the recipient, which seemed to come in form of a young rodian, calling out in broken basic: "Jactna! They are killing everyone!" And with that, Beviin had a way in.
"Sir, please remain calm. What exactly is happening there?"
"Listen, le nochka tuo halackne ladda buchat, someone is killing everyone on the street."
"So you wish to report a murder? Where is it happening? Are weapons of any sort involved?"
"Are we-... do think they are being tickled to death? How would I know? Can't see who shoots!"
"Sir, please stay focused. Are you in immediate danger? Where are you located right now?"

What followed was a wider amalgamation of diverse rodian curses, mixed in with information that Beviin already knew, and a promise from her side to send someone, keeping the stranger waiting on the line for a good few minutes before eventualling calling out: "I am getting reports that TSD managed to apprehend a shooter with sight onto your location. Medical help and officers have been dispatched. By all accounts, you should be safe now. Please take care of fellow citizens as best as possible, but do not leave the site until our officers gather your testimony.", hoping that the Rodian would take the bait, and even better, pull some other unfortunate into their demise, either by wanting to help, or not being too keen to be taken in for questioning.

To the trained ear, however, someone who knew how it was supposed to sound, someone who knew how the police in these parts of Taris worked, the flaws in Beviins acting were obvious. After all, she was a stranger and worked with what she knew of other worlds' police forces. Obviously she wouldn't be able to fool someone living there.

 

[Zee Caromed]

Yep. That was a spree killer alright. One from off-planet, or at least a part of Taris where cops bothered to call panicked people 'sir'.

They'd blown away everybody in the streets. They'd blown up a truck. They'd blasted his compact out of his hand the moment he'd tried to see what was going on. Chances were, the moment his head came out of cover they'd turn it into chunky salsa as well. Which, like... really didn't incentivize him to move from behind the concrete block he was hiding behind.

There wasn't anything Zee could do in this situation. He was wearing a poncho and nurse scrubs. His biggest weapon was a collapsible baton and the portable defibrillator in his bag. The latter was especially useless, considering the high-powered rifle seemed to not leave anyone with enough structure to be resuscitated. His civilian-grade datapad was just as useless under a jamming field as anyone else's.

All he could do was keep his head down and wait for the storm to stop, and wish every misery and torment possible upon the monster on the other side of the scope.