Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Taken 2 (Triko's Fungeon) [Arthos] [Complete]


@[member="Arthos Vynea"]


Triko crouched, like a stealthy, elegant, tiger, but... less elegant. And stealthy.

That and he was a Jawa, not a tiger.

Maybe more like a... crouching Jawa.

Damn, that sounded like a good martial arts flick.

He needed to get on making that happen. Maybe he could hold up a film studio. He'd done it before, getting that action film about giant transforming superheroes on a sinking ship with blue aliens made with an army of fifteen thousand CG artists. Shame he'd spent all the money on adverts instead of making the film any good.

Nonetheless, Triko waited, staring across the midnight cityscape of Coruscant, one particular building a hundred meters or so apart from his own piquing his interest. He'd heard about a senator residing in the penthouse therein, and such a politician would surely make for a delectable ransom. First, however, he needed to get across.
Arthos was completely oblivious to the meddlesome @[member="Triko"] eying him up like a fattened calf. His want for secrecy was so strong he lacked the normal security detail granted to a senator. Instead he kept a pair of fellow Iridonian Zabraks he knew he could trust to stay silent no matter what they saw or heard. That left them however extremely under equipped in manpower, and monitoring equipment. It was of little consequence though, he was living amongst the penthouses of Coruscant, surely their own local security could handle most problems. Of course all of this never considered the possibility of a very sneaky, and possibly insane Jawa.

As the senator had risen early that morning he was headed to take a hot shower, and call it a day. His pair of Zabraks were doing their final checks to make sure they'd locked the windows and then they'd be hitting the hey as well. In the end Arthos knew he would eventually need to purchase some droids for better protection of him, and his secrets but for now they would do. Turning on the hot water the senator thought his day was done. He was obviously not a fortune teller for it promised to be a long night.

@[member="Arthos Vynea"]

Triko thought long and hard- how would he get across this mighty gorge...?

The answer, as with most problems (Like opening jars or fixing that sticky key on the keyboard. Usually T. Damned T.) was consulting the film Triko'd directed all those years ago.

A zip line.

Taking his poncho in both hands, he slung it over a telecomms cable, stepping up on the rim of the rooftop with bold fearlessness borne not out of courage, but probably stupidity. Shuffling his shuffle, he prepped himself for what would probably be a rough landing.


He shot forwards, then downwards, then downwards quite fast, cascading towards the (unbeknownst to him) locked windows of the senator's room with both heavy-duty booted feet facing forwards, hands engaged with his poncho and a loaded pistol between his teeth that he could fire with his tongue (and lose a few of those teeth) should the need arise. Grinning wildly, and screaming with equal joy, he shot for the window at high speed.

This could hurt.

Arthos heard a bang against the bedroom window, but given that he was indulging in the hot water of the shower choose to shrug it off. His guards were setting up for their shifts on night surveillance in the opposite side of the penthouse apartment, and as such simply didn't hear it. The jawa was simply falling through lucky crevices everywhere, and if he made his way to the roof he'd find his way to an open window on the room letting moonlight into the senator's bedroom. He liked fresh air while he slept and the sensors around it automatically would close the window and lock it if it rained or it sensed too much movement. Of course a jawa sized intruder was never considered and might get through if he was careful.

Completey oblivious the senator stepped out of the shower and into his office to go over his itinerary for the next day. On it, and one day late was to procure some security droids to give him the adequate security precautions he required, and keep his secrets safe.
@Arthos Vynea


A large, Jawa-shaped pancake slid down the penthouse window before falling on to the exterior balcony, where said pancake lay for several minutes, a bright red stain left on the wall... and the Jawa, his pistol having taken out several teeth- but not through firing. No, the pistol hadn't fired. It'd just torn through four of his front teeth and left a lot of blood, well, everywhere.

Returning to his feet, Triko gripped the slippery, scarlet red firearm in his hand, aiming it for the window of the penthouse and then proceeding to headbutt through the glass. The reason he was able to accomplish this was very simple...

Lazy writing.

After he'd eviscerated his cloak, skull, and major organs on the glass leapt through the gaping hole, gunshot still ringing and police surely alerted, he drew a shotgun from his back, realized he was in a bathroom and slipped up on the wet floor.

This was going well.
Arthos heard the sound in the next room and sighed. Perhaps another bird had fallen through the roof window, and he simply wasn't dealing with another one of those. With a small smile he stretched out and closed his eyes, this is what he paid the twins for. The two Zabrak brothers were however a bit worried as they came running into the Senator's bedroom searching for what they thought would also be another bird. Both were armed only with slugthrower pistols, and their pjs quite comfortable ones.

Seeing no bird they began to search the room for the source of the sound. Finding nothing the knocked on the bathroom door, "Senator, are you still in there?"
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]

Eyes widening as he heard the words, Triko scrambled to his feet.


"Senator no here. Leave."

Feeling as if this ruse mightn't be too effective, he took care to draw his scattergun and to hobble over to the door, pressing his cloaked back to the wall and quickly spied to see if he had any ammo in the gun.

No, he didn't.

But, he did have the rear end of the scattergun.

That'd probably hurt.
The twins stopped for a moment and looked at each other in confusion. Taking separate sides of the door they pressed a panel to open it and waited a moment before peeking over the door edge. With pistols slowly aimed they slowly walked into the bathroom eyes searching for the intruder. Meanwhile Arthos was already near to snoring oblivious to everything in the next room. The slow pace of the twins moving through the bathroom at first completely missed the brightly clothed Jawa thinking he was a towel. This couldn't last, but it left the Jawa with a small chance for his mission.
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]

In a split second, the Jawa-shaped towel drew both blaster pistols from his hip-mounted holsters, leaping off the towel rack and firing a total of twelve shots courtesy of his Lightning Fast Trigger Finger™. (Batteries sold seperately.)

Then wielding his Kung-Fu Grip™ abilities, he lashed out with a high powered jab to their everythings, bothlegs off the ground.

"Battery buy seperate." He hissed.
As the jawa jabbed into empty air both the twins were on the ground, down for the proverbial count. Arthos now happily asleep his holovid showing some movie was loud enough to keep the noises in the next room out. Lights out and covered by a nice thick blanket he blended quite well into the couch. Little did he know in the next room his security had proved itself completely useless. Despite all the insane acts of the Jawa it seemed he might even get away with it, might. All that stood between the Jawa, and his prize was a single locked door. Such a small thing, sadly the single locked door was nearly a blastdoor in truth so it was a bit of a problem.
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]

A blastdoor?


Blastdoors were nothing.

Well, really, they were something, because he couldn't get through them. What he could do, however, was exit the building again and shimmy along the sides, and so that is what he did. A normal, or, dare I say it, sane creature would of course think against this.

Triko wasn't sane.

From all across the district, a small brown blot could be just about noticed making his way around the penthouse, hanging from the drains. Just about making it to the front of the building, he swang from the drainpipe and collided with the windows of the room wherein a certain senator seemed to be watching a film of some sort.

The glass felt awfully solid.
Arthos stirred slightly at the bang against his window, but shrugged it off. This was his safe room, and it would take military grade explosives to get in according to what the republic security specialists told him. Of course Triko wasn't your ordinary intruder, an no security system was really Triko proof was it? Pulling up his blanket around him Arthos' eyes fluttered for a moment as he looked on the holovid.

It had changed to an infomercial during the late hours, and no one loved an infomercial. In fact truth be told the entire galaxy hated infomercials, and tomorrow he was going to bring to the Senate a law banning infomercials. Rolling over so he didn't have to watch the material all night Arthos feel back to sleep.
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]

Hands clawing at the air, Triko fell for a second or two, grasping the drainpipe of the floor below the penthouse in his desperation. Bit by bit, over the course of several minutes, he clambered up to grab the frame of one of the large windows lining the penthouse, wobbling there, supported by one hand clutching the cold duraplast, other hand drawing an explosive from his poncho, detonite to be precise, which he then spread onto the window itself, shuffling away and taking out the detonator on the other side of the building-face.



The window, and all windows surrounding it, exploded in dramatic fashion. Triko was thrown back with the shards, at first plummeting then stopping very suddenly:

His foot was caught in the drainpipe.

Shaking about with the wind knocking him to and fro, he hauled himself up, poncho flapping in front of his face. Collapsing onto the floor of the apartment, he let out a loud gasp, hoping the senator wouldn't wake up.

He was probably going to.
While Arthos may have slept trough the rest of the noise, he wasn't dead. He did however fall on the floor and knock over his holo emitter in surprise. Jumping up sleep gone from him as the shock simply shut down his mind for a moment. Pulling out a blaster pistol he kept under his couch, because really who doesn't keep a blaster pistol under their couch, he whipped it out and sought the source of said... boom.

On his floor he found the crazed Jawa, and he was rather rough from one heck of a night. "So, give me a good reason I shouldn't shoot first, and ask questions later?"
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]


The small creature slowly rose to his feet, sneakily sliding one hand into the poncho, the ragged fabric now flapping about in the wind.

"Rawr!" He roared, drawing a pistol and slamming on the trigger numerous times, taking on a dramatic and dashing stance. What he received for this valiant effort and even more valiant pose, was lots of click sounds.

All empty.

Snarling quietly, he made slow and subtle steps around and towards the senator, both eyes trained on the barrel of the gun. For a second or two he stopped, no longer in line with the windows. Then, true to his heritage, he once more assumed the ancient battle cry and leapt at the senator, clawed hands oustretched and legs about a meter off the ground as he soared for the Iridonian.

Arthos wasn't a kind man, and in truth he'd normally have just pulled the trigger several times, and gone back to bed. He was also kind of liked the little guy's spunk. He was either very crazy, or there was more to this Jawa then met the eye. So while the Jawa walked around him in an odd manner Arthos merely considered the options. He was obviously completely fearless, or again completely insane either way he was like a little Jawa bomb.

"Tell me, my little jawa friend, who are you working for and how much are they paying you. I'm sure I can up it." Of course he may have been wrong with this assumption as Triko dove at him like a wild animal. He didn't want to hurt the little jawa, but he did want him to understand this could go ugly. Or maybe he just needed a good fight? Pivoting he brought down the pistol towards the Jawa's shoulder. He needed to calm the crazy thing for it to be of any use.
@[member="Arthos Vynea"]


Triko span backwards, the pistol having knocked him off course and over the sofa. That'd hurt a little. He elected he needed to bring out a gun that was actually loaded, so he took cover behind the sofa and soothed his shoulder with one hand, drawing his scattergun from his back and weighing it for a brief moment to check it was loaded.
Felt like it.
With both hands now gripping the weapon, he took a deep breath to steady his aim, popped up from behind the sofa and brought the sights of the gun to level with his eye in a split second, lining the little metal spike up with the senator's body and firing a succession of shots, the tiny pellets flying in all directions. There was no chance of dodging that.

You just had to duck, cover and hope for the best.
No one liked being shot at, and even more one liked being shot at by a Jawa with a scatter gun. So given the situation the night was rapidly going downhill for Arthos. Lunging forward he tried to reach the couch and push it on top of the Jawa before he could pull the trigger. This had multiple effects, the first being the incredibly amazing amount of pain one gets taking a chest full of shrapnel. While none of it cut into him deeply it left his skin in a bloody mess.

The second was even as the couch flipped it turns out shrapnel goes through couches, and a second round shot into his knees leaving his body a complete bloody mess of pain. The third was the completely unknown condition of the Jawa behind said couch as it flew at him. Th very last was the absolute seething rage that ran through Arthos as he pulled the force to him for the first time, and walked to the wall. Hitting open a secret compartment he retrieved two tonfa style lightsabers and ignited them.

Turning around he searched out the little bomb that had exploded all over his sanctuary. The pain mixed in greater with the rage as he spoke to Triko. "I was trying to play nice, Jawa, but you're testing my patience"

@[member="Arthos Vynea"]


The senator didn't seem to happy, and to make matters worse he also seemed to be brandishing a lightstick.

Lightsticks were bad news- they cut through jawas (and all other species for that matter) without difficulty.

Still, the level of threat they posed was entirely lenient on their wielder, and this senator didn't seem to pose much threat. He'd allowed a jawa to infiltrate his penthouse using explosives and take out his guards.

Taking all this into account, Triko also noted that lightsabers only deflected blaster bolts. Not shrapnel. Based upon this, he made the decision to reload his scattergun.
The guns snapped in half at the barrel to allow for more shells to be inserted.
The shells fell into the dark metal tubes.
The barrels reconnected with the rest of the gun, swinging up on their hinges to meet the sights and handle.
Popping back up to sight the senator, he began spraying yet more scattergun shells, this time in a more concentrated fashion towards the Iridonian.
While Triko reloaded Arthos took two plans into consideration. One he could hit the panic button seal off the entire room, and eventually within say a few minutes everything from commandos to Jedi would come crashing the party. The second option was to hit his secondary panic button that would seal off the room, and wouldn't open again without his personal security codes. As he'd already taken this to a level he'd like to avoid Jedi complications with he choose the second.

Pressing his finger against a small crevice on a table Arthos watched with silence as the entire room suddenly lit up with an electric buzz. Military grade blast doors slammed shut on all exits from the room, and shields lit up to cover them. The last little addition was the hiss of gas that filled the room in a fog. Of course this also simply left Arthos locked in a room with a crazy Jawa, but that was the next step of the plan.

"The game is over, Jawa, only I can open these doors, and only I ca.." Stopping there Arthos realized the crazy Jawa was in fact still shooting! With a sudden leap Arthos crashed against the wall, but whether or not the little menace would be able to track him was unknown to the now bewildered Senator.

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