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The Day I Died

Onyx sat there in awe. In the back alley of a small bar on Coruscant, he stared at the concrete ground. In the lower levels, storms always hit them harder then the rest of the planet. Strangely enough. Onyx took it as a coincidence... It rained the day he was killed at that very spot. Betrayed by Kiyala Demont and Darren Shaw. Now he stood there, starring. Why? He didn't exactly know. He couldn't remember the exact day he died. However he knew it had been a few years since then and he figured he would go back.

He was killed for betraying the Empire and the dark side, something he never regretted. And now he was there, not long after the Empire fell, to remember what he died for- the betterment of the galaxy. The storm was hitting hard and he didn't like the feel of the rain on his burned skin. Turning heel he entered the small bar.

It was empty, much like the night he died. Setting himself at the usual spot in the back corner of the bar, where he could see everything including the entrances, he sighed. On the table sat a full bottle of Kuaty whiskey. Grabbing the bottle he took a small sip. Again he sighed, "Great job Darren," he whispered to himself. For the first time in a long time, maybe even since the day he died, he referred to himself as his true name. "You did your job..." Taking the whiskey he took a large gulp, almost half the bottle went down. "Now drink away your life."

@[member="Strider Garon"]
The Hound of Keldabe
Strider looked out the tinted glass of their land speeder that was parked across the street from the empty bar. His eye glued to his target, a rogue force user that they had been hunting for a few weeks now and spent a good chunk of credits on information just to be here at this moment in time. Garon loved the hunt, it made him feel so alive playing the game of cat and mouse almost more then battle itself.

Strider placed his helmet on and used the on board binoculars to zoom in on Onyx, confirming that the target was actually their prey. With a blink of an eye he took a picture and saved it to his memory storage with in his helmet’s computer.

“Target confirmed!” Strider informed his partner, @[member="Arrbi Betna"], a fellow vod who specialized in neutralizing force users. “We go in now, collateral damage would be to a minimal”

Between the two of them, they probably had enough ordinance and arsenal to pin down a small army for a day or two. It was a mando thing for no mandalorian ever wanted to die for lack of shooting. Strider moved from the passenger seat to the cargo hold of the van sized speeder, gripping a rocket launcher that made the inner child of garon squeal with glee.

“Go in hard?” Strider asked Arrbi, could almost be classified as begging for Garon had a perversion for explosions.
@[member="The Burned Man"]
"Not yet," Betna said as he made his way from a side alley on the opposite side of the bar. "Explosions are great and all, but the local enforcers will be all over us right after. Take up a position where you can cover both the front and side door. I'll come in the back."

Matching action to word, he quietly sliced the back lock. The door slid open and the Mandalorian slipped inside. He knew Force users could spot fluctuations and emotions in the Force, and fought to keep his emotions level. No anger, no excitement, no adrenaline. Just calm, cool, and cold efficiency. That was the only way to ambush a Jedi or Sith.

"This way, he'll have only three ways out. Through me or out the side or front door. If he runs for it, you can pop him with the missile. Otherwise, we can get a kill confirmation off his face and head through holos."

With that, Betna calmly walked into the bar. He passed the bathroom on the way to the main seating area. For all intents and purposes, it just looked like a Mandalorian left his table to use the toilet. He was a bit heavily armed for that role what with his shotgun and sidearm and all the other things he carried, but most Mandalorians were overarmed anyways.

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="The Burned Man"]
Onyx could see the Mandalorian move from his table. It made him uneasy. Being an ex-bounty hunter, and a good one at that, Onyx could easily tell one when he saw them. So he knew this man was after him. He didn't really care though, he only wanted to know why.

So he played along. Casually he got up and made his way to the bar counter. Looking over her locked eyes with the man and motioned for him to join him. "How many of you are here?" He asked in a normal, non hesitant tone. He loved playing games and this would be do different.

As soon as their conversation was done he knew what would happen and he couldn't wait for the action to start.

@[member="Arrbi Betna"] @[member="Strider Garon"]
"Just me," Betna said as he took a seat at the bar, opening his mic to his partner as he did so to let him in on the conversation. He wasn't technically lying. The bandaged man didn't specifically ask 'how many are there inside' or 'how many are there in total'. He wouldn't catch any dishonesty in the answer, just pure, grim smugness. "Were you expecting more?"

Betna let his hand creep slowly towards his .44 revolver. The weapon had served him well for years and would continue to do so, he felt. Slugs were harder to deflect with a lightsaber and very hard to dodge effectively. The pistol had six shots before reloading and would easily punch very large holes in the man next to him. Betna let his body slowly tense up like a spring as he waited to see what would happen next.

@[member="The Burned Man"] @[member="Strider Garon"]
The Hound of Keldabe
Strider didn’t need to hear the conversation, it was very obvious that Arrbi was made just by what he could see. Garon remotely slid the back side window slightly open as he took up the kneeling position with his verpine sniper rifle. The weapon was a thing of beauty, built for stealth as the weapon fired a projectile that would be launched very much like a rail gun with magnets and with out a sound.

Strider also did not chump out on the rifle’s scope, it was an auto adjustor with a built in range finder that would automatically set the sights. He placed the crosshairs on the target, the sights zeroing in and adjusting for wind and range. The bar’s windows would not even phase the projectile the only thing that would get in the way was Strider’s own comrade who was wise not to sit directly in his line of fire.

If this was any normal target Strider would of given a warning over the coms that he was going to fire, but such a warning with a force user would give away such an action. He would have to trust that Arrbi lived up to his hype and new how to handle himself.

The old warrior took three calming breaths, slowing his heart rate down and increasing accuracy. Crosshairs on the force user’s head and at the end of the third breath Strider non hesitantly squeezed the trigger, there was no thunderous bang or a zap from a bolt…..just a quick wiff of air being disturbed and the crack of the bar’s front window………
@[member="Arrbi Betna"] @[member="The Burned Man"]
Onyx could sense the man's body tensing up. Not a moment after he could hear the crack of the window farthest from them give a small crack. Everything slowed down suddenly. He knew that it wouldn't be easy fighting but he knew it was worth trying. His mind returned to reality.

He was hit. Nothing but high pitched ringing filled his head. Though it wasn't where he thought it would be. He had moved back slightly and stood, causing the shot to his his neck. Regardless, blood flowed out and he was injured. He stumbled back, trying to regain his footing. Thankfully he did, in time before any other attack could commence. Activating one of his lightsabers he raised it up, ready to block any attacks. He tried to speak but couldn't.

Then one thing came to mind; get out. He knew he wouldn't last long with his injury. He simply started walking backwards, towards the back door. He was ready to fight if need be, but he only wanted to escape now.

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Arrbi Betna"]
Betna reacted the second he heard the window shatter. He jumped back out of reach and sent the bar stool flying. He realized he had a second or two now that the other man was injured and moved his hand away from the revolver on his thigh. Instead, he reached up and yanked the shotgun from the back scabbard mounted to his armor's backplate.

The Mandalorian leveled the weapon and racked the first slug into the chamber. He quickly brought the weapon up and to his shoulder, taking quick aim at the man's center mass. He let his HUD's targeter lock on for a second, linking up with the coin shot loaded into his weapon.

While the specialized ammunition was designed as a novelty or for hunting, it was equally effective in combat situations. Betna only brought a handful or two. Each shot had to count.

After another second, the HUD blinked green. Betna realized that the 'saber jockey had his jettii'kad activated and raised, but hoped the micro-repulsor guided, spinning discs in the shell would find their mark anyways. He lined up the shot centermass and pulled the trigger, sending six, spinning, miniature discs flying towards his target at hypervelocity speeds.

@[member="The Burned Man"] @[member="Strider Garon"]
Onyx quickly reacted by raising his blade up before him. He blocked two with his lightsaber, two more flying by, however two landed in his shoulder. Stumbling back he cursed under his breath. He realized that running was an option with the weapons they had, and the fact that he was far to injured to get very far. Instead he breathed in, letting in all that he could with the force.

He lunged forward, activating his second lightsaber while he did so. As he landed he leaned towards the attacker, aiming to destroy the shotgun in his hands. He would then swing towards his legs, hoping to make him immobile.

@[member="Arrbi Betna"] @[member="Strider Garon"]
Betna saw the lunge and realized that he was now on the defensive. He also realized that his attacker needed to get relatively close to attack, at least with something like this. The Mandalorian's training kicked in and he reacted without thinking.

Training. Training and conditioning and training. That was how he'd been brought up. A weapon was a weapon, that much was true. But the one wielding the weapon was just as much one as the tool he used. A combination of muscle memory and intense training overrode instinct and turned it into precise reaction.

Instinct said to dodge. Instinct told someone to get out of the way. Instinct stated that the whirling, buzzing, colored blades meant death. Get out of the way. Dodge. Run. Move... But training didn't.

Betna's training overrode instinct and the Mandalorian did the one thing no one expected someone confronted with master wielding lightsabers.

Arrbi Betna dropped the shotgun from his shoulder, brought the weapon up over his opposite side, stepped into the attack and within the reach of the whirling, buzzing death that the Force user wielded with lethal intent... and drove the stock of the shotgun towards the man's face with an impact that would shatter bone and tear flesh.

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Darth Onyx"]
Onyx stumbled back. Lifting his eyes up he could see blood beginning to drip from his forehead. He let out a small growl. He let all his anger go and slashed deadly, quick strikes aimed primarily at the arms and legs.

(OOC: Sorry for short post, in the middle of work while doing this. LUL)

@[member="Arrbi Betna"]
Emotions. The Jedi suppressed them. The Sith rode them. Neither side truly knew how they worked. At least, not in the sense of how to properly use them. Suppressing them would limit your abilities to an extent. Make you focus more on control than efficiency or effectiveness. Riding them made you less predictable, true, but more vulnerable. Rage made you miss things. Make mistakes. Leave gaps in your defenses. So few really understood how to use raw emotion.

The Mandalorians usually didn't have that problem.

Emotions were weapons, too. You took them. All of them. Love, hate, rage, lust, pain. You took them all and compressed them down to a solid hunk of raw feelings. When they sat at the bottom of your heart and weighed you down like a lump of cold, hard iron you picked them up. You took that lump of hardened raw emotion and sharpened it. You ground it against the stone that was the soul and honed that emotion to a razor sharp edge. Then, and only then, was it truly controlled. To use hate and rage without weakness. To focus love and lust and joy and pain into the blade that was you heart and soul and body. When that blade of raw feelings was sharpened and ready, only then could you use it on your enemies.

A weapon made of controlled and focused emotion could cut more deeply than the most powerful of lightsabers and could rent holes in the very fabric of the reality that was sentient emotion.

And it was precisely what Betna did. All his fear and anger and determination flowed through him. He harnessed it, compressed it, and honed it into a weapon that only he could use. Only he could wield with deadly efficiency. He stood his ground and trusted his armor. He trusted the beskar to hold. He trusted the armorweave to remain unyielding and, as he did so, he pumped round after round after round of coin shot into the Force user before him.

He was Mandalorian. His very blood ran with the glory and prowess of his ancestors. He would do his damndest to emerge victorious and, if he lost, the victor would never forget this day from the scars and wounds they bore...

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Darth Onyx"]
It was no surprise that, with his injuries making him slower, Onyx was hit several times. His own Mandalorian armor proved to be his greatest alley, stopping several kill shots, but still resulting in the injury of his arms and one of his legs. He stumbled back and was clearly angry.

Deactivating his lightsaber he put all his emotion into his next attack: his force lightning. The deadliest, and hardest, force ability to master, Onyx was adept in it and would use all he could against his opponent.

@[member="Arrbi Betna"]
The shotgun clicked empty and Betna dropped it. Before it hit the floor, he had his .44 revolver halfway out of the holster when he realized the lightsaber had been turned off. Before he could react, the lightning hit.

Pain. Excruciating, nauseating, blinding pain. It lit up all his nerve endings at once as if some horrible, sadistic creature was ripping him apart molecule by molecule. Somehow, through it all, he realized that someone was screaming and that there was a horrid burning smell coming from somewhere.

Betna realized that both the screaming and the burning smell were from him. For a brief, stark moment, panic seized him. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He could only sit and feel the pain coursing through his body knowing that at any second, he'd find a lightsaber rammed up to the hilt in his body.

The thought of such a worthless death angered him, despite the blinding pain and agony ripping at his consciousness. He slowly realized that the pain was increasing, slowly and steadily. It took him a second or two to realize that it wasn't from the lightning. Or rather, it wasn't that the man before him was using more power. It was from his arms. Without realizing it, his arms had slowly begun to rise. His hands were slowly coming up causing his muscles to roar in protest along with lightning coursing through his limbs and body. With his hands, came the revolver.

Realizing he could use this through all the pain, he forced his limbs to obey. To listen to his commands. To raise faster. To bring the revolver level with the target. Slowly they inched up. Slowly aligning with the target. Just a few seconds more. Just endure a few more seconds.

Just a few more seconds...

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Darth Onyx"]
Onyx didn't let down. He continued to launch the lightning at him. He looked, realizing the mans hand was raising, attempting to shoot him in the chest. He shook his head no, "I will not die again..." For a brief moment he dropped the lightning. Only to bring both hands back and launched them forward, sending a powerful force push towards the man.

He only hoped it would be enough for him to slip out, otherwise he wouldn't stand much more a chance.

@[member="Arrbi Betna"] @[member="Strider Garon"]
He needed just a few more seconds, but unfortunately, he only got one. By the time Betna was able to realize that the pain had stopped and that he could move again, he found himself airborne.

He rocketed back with no time to brace himself which, ironically, probably saved himself a few broken bones or serious injury to anything but his pride. The various tables, chairs, and booths behind him 'broke' his inertia and momentum, but left him half sitting, half laying in a pile of broken furniture and splintered wood. The concussive force of the blast left him with his ears ringing and a sore back, but thankfully there was no grinding of ribs, spikes of pain when he moved, or the dull ache of serious injury like he'd felt back on Manaan after playing chicken with a skyscraper. All things considered, life was now good. At least, in the sense that his nerve endings weren't being toasted cheerily on a fire, though he still thought he smelled burned hair or something in his helmet.

Realizing that there were more important tasks at hand, he sat up and spotted his target. He leveled the revolver at the man and, happy to notice his arm was bending the correct way, opened fire with the .44 revolver.

@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Darth Onyx"]
Onyx, with the man on the ground, saw his chance to quickly limp through the back door. Before he could leave completely he felt a sting on the back of his shoulder and realized he was hit. He cursed but kept moving. Now in the alley would have a better chance with his force powers if the man followed. All he needed to do was get out to the open streets, not far from them, and he would easily be able to, through the force, blend in and escape.

He moved as fast as he could though his injuries were slowing him down. It didn't help that he was getting flashbacks, since he was in the very alley died in years ago. But he pressed on and had both hands ready to launch more force powers if, or when, the man followed.

@[member="Arrbi Betna"]

Darth Torment

(OOC: I'll take on the sniper)

The planet of coruscant was a thriving metropolis of crime and justice, for the planet it meant everything to the jedi and nothing to the sith.. for the populace it was a safe haven for both crime and refugee status, but for Isis it was a faded memory that haunted her past and made her future even more terrible, she was once a padawan among the famed jedi order and was at one time the sister of many youthful jedi among them all, one of her sisters being aledis ijet whom she tried to play at her mind.

It was a cold day on coruscant as her private shuttle she stole from the order all those years ago sped toward its destination, the ramp lowering about 300 meters above the city and the figure of a women standing on the edge clutching at her battle armor, she now wore the colors of the sith order of the horde, along with her general rank tag and her horde emblem on her belt buckle.. she was ready for action and this action seemed to revolve around a bounty she heard was placed on her old friend Darren Onyx that now went by @[member="Darth Onyx"].

For the past few days she had been tracking the hunters that were after Onyx and had found out recently they had come to coruscant, their soul purpose was to kill him for the bounty money that was placed on his head and this only irritated her more. As the ship came over its destination she smirked and performed a halo jump without the aid of a parachute and began her decent to the district this all was taking part in.

As her decent was calculated and risky she waited for her checkpoint to come and activated her force throw to break her fall and slammed her fist into the ground as she landed hard causing a ripple to be seen under the ground while staring down one of the hunters that held a sniper rifle @[member="Strider Garon"] and smirked at him as she wore her signature gas mask and held her position high. her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a combat belt made for the soul purpose of holding combat items, it held 6 cryoban, 24 smoke pellets, and 6 flash bang grenades.

she also wore her siganture weapons proudly on her hips and back, her dual crossgaurd saber batons hung over her butt and her signature saberstaff was attached to her back via a harness with her dual westar 35's equipped to her legs. she was equipped to rain damage to the hunters involved with the bounty of @[member="Darth Onyx"] and was ready to take on the opposition, truth is Isis also was a bounty hunter so she knew how to spot them and this time instead of going after a mark she would protect one at all costs.

Rising as her eyes glowed and icy hue as he cryo abilities were activated she smirked and sent a powerful force throw at the hunter and rocked his world with a lasting wave of force energies to rule his air that would be garnered for his actions, she was not playing and this became personal.
@[member="Strider Garon"]
The Hound of Keldabe
Outside the bar: @[member="Isis Fontana"]

“Haar’chak!” The older mandalorian swore as the speeder transport he was ‘concealed’ in was smashed with a wave of force that thrusted the vehicle over on its side tumbling the soldier with in about. The speeder came to halt smashing into a durasteel wall.

It took Strider Garon a moment to catch his bearings and right himself within the awkwardly parked speeder. He was caught by surprise from the new comer to the part, it seemed that though the two Mandalorians were the hunters they may have been the prey as well. “FRAKING DARJETII!” Strider roared within the confines of his own helmet…. Well with only @[member="Arrbi Betna"] being able to hear.

Gripping his EE-3 carbine with his right hand drawing from his quick draw holster, Strider aimed the weapon at the half opened window above him. Fired off a few bolts and then igniting his jet pack, rocketed himself out of the flipped speeder, his helmet threat locator quickly picked up on the new sith as he soared above the wreckage.

Instantly Strider raised his left hand and fired off a canister (anti personnel round) from his wrist launcher, aimed at Isis in attempts to shower her with tiny flachettes at high velocities.

Weapon/armour List:
Westar-35 (Holstered right hip)
Virpine Pistol (Holstered Left Armpit)
DE-10 (holstered right armpit)
EE-3 carbine (slung to chest with quick draw sling)
Flachette (Left)Wrist Launcher( 3 Anti personnel & 1 anti armour canisters)
Wrist Flamer (right)
Jetpack/rocket launcher
1 concussion grenade
3 frag grenades
1 thermal detonator
2 micro dart launchers (poison darts, one launcher in each knee pad)
Pair of crushgaunts
Beskar Armour
Bionic prosthetic arm (from left elbow and below)

@[member="Darth Onyx"]