The Man Who Sold The World

[Setter Ryburn]

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Nar Shaddaa, Outer Rim​

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Outside of Silver Jedi Space​

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Classified Intelligence Gathering Mission​

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​

Setter never had a particular disdain for Jedi, but he never really liked them either. Magical space wizards and the ability to move things with their minds, coupled with a tendency to start multiple wars over a disagreement about the religious uses of their space magic- let Setter to be somewhat wary of Jedi.

Plus, they didn't really like him.

A chain-smoking goon with a tendency for violence, he wasn't exactly liked by warrior monks. Not that they really understood peace- what with them all waging or helping in wars all over the galaxy. Plus, they really wouldn't approve of what him and the team were up to. Intelligence made the world go round, or at least, their worlds. Safety, security, cooperation. All meant jack squat if you couldn't do the dirty work. People wanted to live in a peaceful planet, that's fine. But peace in the galaxy wasn't build on promises, hopes, and dreams.

It was build on credits and bodies of the people who dared to interrupt that peace. Setter understood that, better than anyone else. If the Republic had followed a certain doctrine of a certain Jedi, and nuked the Sith planets into submission, savagely burning and salting the worlds as opposed to an occupation or a lack of action- well.

Maybe there wouldn't be a knockoff Imperial Empire running around every ten minutes and someone trying to be the next Sidious or Vader.

But that was here nor there, wasn't it?

All they needed to know currently was who was operating on Nar Shaddaa, and they had just the man to do it. He was an accountant of sorts, as Setter understood, the guy who washed the money so the credits wouldn't appear to be that dirty to companies looking to invest. Currently, Nar Shaddaa was as lawless as usual, and the planetary government could give two craps about dirty money. But anyone looking to spend big money outside of the planet- usually raised some eyebrows, especially with the Silver Jedi's goody-two-shoes attitude practically next door.

Setter took point. He was wearing a jacket, concealing the RS16 and the plate carrier both. He wasn't sure what Valkren was carrying, but he imagined something similar. Hopefully he took an RS16- the caseless, suppressed weapon was the best tool for the job, in Setter's opinion. The Jedi might not have liked a slugthrower specifically designed to conceal a murder, but Setter loved it. Mainly because he also designed it. They both turned a corner, with Setter in the lead. Setter knew where he was going.

He might've been to Nar Shaddaa a few times, in the inbetween days. Mercenary work, boxing, leisure- especially since some of the girls that him and Valkren passed remembered him and called him by one of his old aliases, Kilov. He smirked as they walked passed the working girls, turning his wolfish grin to Valkren.

They stopped short of the apartment building, and Setter lit a cigarette and stopped to talk to Valkren. Partly because he wanted to smoke, also because nobody would think twice about a guy talking while smoked. People would notice if they were just talking. Smoking was a passive, easy way to either blend in, or get a good amount of surveillance. Setter checked to see if they were followed, then confidently strode into the dumpy apartment building, leaving his cigarette on the street.

Their contact was on the second floor, which was a short-jog up the stairs. Setter sent a message to the other team, checking in that they were at the rendezvous. The other team was the extraction team, and backup. They were roughly three blocks away, on standby. They probably were more well-armed than Valkren and Setter were, or at least, Setter hoped they were. Setter turned to say something to Valkren, but hardly had time to say anything, before he heard a tell-tale clicking.

A thermal detonator, from inside the room of their contact. Without much concussive force, and the fact that the wall between them absorbed the thermal impact- Setter and Valkren were merely showered with ash, and a light amount of drywall. But everything inside the room was battered, deep-fried, and served. The culprit was hanging by the window, a shadowy figure hanging by a harness, who decided that now was the best time to leave- and dropped down. Setter blinked a few times, trying to gain his senses back after the loud noise, and the shock of losing their contact.

He turned to Valkren, throwing off his jacket and prepping his rifle.

"We're compromised-" Setter barely had time to react before the door below them burst in, and two goons came in- although, they looked a cut above the normal rank and file Hutt goon. They had armor, and they cleared the doorway pretty well. Too bad they weren't looking up the stairs. Leveling his rifle over Valkren's shoulder, Setter shot them both in the head, dropping them like bad habits.

"Very compromised." The door opened again, and thanks to Setter's shooting, they knew where the two were. Setter and Valkren had no choice but to keep going up the massive apartment building, due to the onslaught of fire that came where they were. The blaster fired missed by hairs, rather than feet. Setter sprinted up the stairs, with Valkren in tow. Turning a corner, he dropped to a knee, panting a little.

"I didn't get a chance to count-" Two gentle thwacks from the rifle as a thug peaked around the stairs. Setter gave him two new holes in his face for his trouble. "Or get a good look. Humanoids, blasters. Good shots. We either got set up- or he got got." Setter tapped his rifle, thinking. The street was probably swarming with them by now. And hopefully- just hopefully- the other team was on their way, and not caught up in their own firefight. He breathed deeply, waiting patiently.

He never bothered to consider whether or not Valkren was okay with him hap-hazardly executing three people in the spawn of less than two minutes.





OOC:

Razor team and the Rangers are in trouble!

1. Valkren and Setter went ahead to meet the contact- only to be met by an assassin... they'll need to figure out how to escape the apartment complex alive.

2. The Extraction team will have to fight their way to Setter and Valkren- and get past [member="Lancer Damar"]'s nefarious plans to keep Nar Shaddaa's activities out of the limelight.



[member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Roona Osmari"] @Tyrell Caphe l [member="Amon Vizsla"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

Nar Shaddaa.


Five Minutes Prior to Setter And Valkren Arriving


Lancer Damar had become the de-facto go to for people needing to be killed, taken care of, moved, or just plain ole intimidated on the planet. He made it his business to know what was going on, and more importantly- who was doing it. Which is what made this particular man, so downright devious.

He had never thought that the people he worked for- would spy on him. Would monitor him. It only made sense, really. Just because someone has a few degrees and is a wizard with financial law, and moving credits here and there...doesn't make them a particularly smart person. Lancer hooked up on the side of the building, scaling down. As always, the contingency plan was a hard-charging ground team to come in and clean up. That was, after all, the backup. In reality, the five of them would stand outside while Lancer did his job and they'd be on their way when he was done.

It was easy enough to quietly cut part of the window out with a plasma torch- the only thing that the man heard before he died was the clicking of the thermal detonator. Lancer wasn't one to enjoy making people suffer, it wasn't his MO- he was a professional. People hired him to kill people, not make them suffer. People suffered enough in life, why make them suffer at death? A odd morality for a trained killer. Lancer moved away from the window, watching the hot-white and orange flash envelope the room. He peeked in to observe the damage- and through the fractured, broken door, he saw two men. Two witnesses. The older one was looking right at him.

Bad day to be you, buddy.

He scaled down, pulling up his wrist-mounted datapad and sent the signal to the kill team. Rubber sheets, drywall replacement, and a body dumping was next on the list. Just business, really. What he didn't expect was the reaction of his usual go-to guys getting shot in the face. Return fire was never beneficial, and whoever these two were, were bad for business.

So, much to his chagrin- and his account's- he sent out a big, fat bounty- and all it took was a few keystrokes to have the order to have two men killed.

20,000 credits for each of the two men in the apartment building. 40,000 if alive. But they were witnesses. Now, every hired gun that he knew (and he knew plenty) were going to go after these two schmucks, which- had a twofold effect for Lancer. He'd gain a reputation for being a good business partner, and hopefully these two would take out some of the lesser guns for hire.

For now, Lancer had a http://starwarsrp.net/topic/113648-lancers-suit/?hl=%2Blancer+%2Bdamar]suit[/url] to put on, because he knew things were about to get messy. He didn't like messy, but messy was Plan C. Every idiot with a gun, professional or otherwise, who wanted a nice fat stack of credits in which to blow on girls, drugs, and maybe a ticket off-planet, was about to swarm on the apartment complex. All Lancer had to do, was sit back- and watch. And if they failed to do so soon- he'd do it himself.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Nar Shadaa..Feth, he hated this place. It wasn't as much the crime-ridden planet itself as it was the commander's own history there. His old team of commandos had spent an extended period of time on planet directly after the fall of the Galactic Republic. The time spent there consisted of a few memories- no, nightmares that he would have done well forgetting.

Yet here he was, walking through another alleyway, passing by what many could consider the scum of the universe. He hated to say it, but it felt way too familiar.

Valkren kept close on Setters heels, being sure that he didn't leave too much room between himself and the other pipe-hitter, but still giving enough space as to not look suspiciously close to one another. Even then though, who would be suspicious? The 'night life' on Nar Shadaa was in abundance and almost ongoing 24/7, who would recognize another two rugged faces amongst a sea of criminals?

That is, unless someone was expecting them.

The commander adjusted his bomber jacket as they walked, the usual significant sign of an Antarian Ranger was darkly colored opposed to it's usual rustic look, and lacked any signs of Silver Jedi or Ranger markings. Underneath, a chest plate that almost looked as if it had been ripped straight from the Radama Raider's custom katarn armor. His tactical webbing had been tossed and attached overtop, providing a multitude of pouches for utility items, plus a chest holster for his holdout option. From the chest webbing, a sling attached to the stock of an RS16 that was pulled around and concealed inside of his bomber jacket. He figured he'd see what all the talk about the weapon was about from Ryburn. It wasn't long before the pair stopped and his counterpart flicked alive a cigarette. Valkren quickly adjusted the cap that sat on his head, pulling the bill down slightly as he took a glance down either sides of the street.

Could use one of those about now.

He had left his cigarettes back aboard The Concord , mainly due to the fact that the rather strict captain of the frigate didn't tolerate smoking onboard. He had put up with quite a lot, letting the rangers come onboard his scout ship and practically take the reigns for new missions and operations. So as far as Valkren saw it, he was alright giving up the smokes.

At least for now.

They continued on into the building, once they reached the door of their contact's location, Setter began to turn towards Valkren in an effort to say something. At the same time Valkren reached up and idly turned his cap backwards, a more familiar position for hats with brims for the combatant, even if he wasn't expecting any combat.

Another familiarity literally clicked into place. The wall in front of them was gone suddenly, the hallway coated in dark ash that was still settling while the two gained their bearings. His ears were ringing as the soldier pushed himself back off of the opposite wall that the concussive wave had pushed him into. Before he could do anything, Setter had reacted, firing directly over his shoulder at two new arrivals. This gave the commander time to ditch his own jacket and whip the rifle out from its position, unlatching the sling quickly for more maneuverability and priming the weapon.

"Go!" He'd shout as he continued to follow Setter's steps upwards, before stopping at a solid position. While Setter looked back down the staircase, Valkren kept his weapon trained upward.

No helmets, no heads-up-displays, all human instinct for this one.

Setter suddenly dropped another hostile, atleast he figured he had, he was too focused on the top of the staircase to pay attention to his teammates killcount.

This was a serious case of deja-vu for Calderon. He had been in this exact situation before with his old team from the GR. He lost people that day.

"I'm gunna' go with set up!" He'd take his eyes away from the top of the stair case, moving to where Setter was and tapping his shoulder with his free hand, he motioned for the soldier to lead the way up the stairs.

"Move. I'll cover!" He'd reposition his hand to stabilize the rifle, pointing it down the staircase where the third body lay.

He wanted to contact the extraction team, but at this time it was too hot to take his focus away from the firefight. Besides..They had to hear the explosion, right?

[member="Tyrell Caphey"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Amon Vizsla"] | [member="Roona Osmari"]

 

[Zef Halo]

After the rather simpler mission on Sev Tok, Amon was surprised when he received the call-up for an operation of a much higher caliber. The draft from slaying beasts on Sev Tok to black ops could surely be taken as an acknowledgement of his skills and a greater trust in the Vizsla from Rangers' higher command.

Or maybe they simply hoped they'd get rid off him in a mission of such odds. His father, [member="Ronan Vizsla"], the Alor of clan VIzsla, had often told him stories of the intricate webs of intrigue existing in aruetii military.

In either case, they'd find Amon was a survivor. Whatever the outcome of this mission, the young Mandalorian didn't plan on dying. Not just yet, at least.

Whether higher command trusted him or not mattered much less than whether his comrades in arms right here and right now did. Considering the devastating raids his father led against the SJO, namely Ossus, Amon accepted the challenge it could be for the Antarian Rangers to mount any sort of trust in him. Not with his background and not with his bloodline.

"You all heard that?" one of the soldiers pointed at the direction of where the familiar sound of a thermal detonator going off came from.

"What's the chance our men got fried?" another asked.

"It's Nar Shaddaa. Gang wars are the day-to-day basis." a third commented shrugging it off. "We move outta here and we might compromise their cover."

"We don't move outta here and we risk getting our men toast if that therm det hasn't killed 'em yet."

"Or, as I said, we risk compromising their cover and karking up their mission."

While the discussion heated up, Amon noticed important info streaming down his HUD holofeed.

"It's for us." The Mandalorian cryptically said.

"Huh? What?"

"Could you Mandalorians be any less laconic?"

"Check your holofeeds. Someone's posting good money on two heads in the designated building." Amon explained.

"Kark me."

"Kark me, too. Lock and load, boys and move out!"

"Vizsla, take point with that archaic blade of yours."

"Try keeping your cross hairs off my back."

"Wouldn't want to but we've got to, Mandalorian. Double time!"

The black-clad Katarn armored Rangers stormed out of their hiding spot and out into the crowded streets of Nar Shaddaa. One block away from them were the two men whose cover was apparently compromised. A battlefield was one thing but urban warfare was something completely different, especially on Shaddaa.

Common thugs and civilians moved out of the Rangers' way in panic. Their intimidation of the black armored men made Amon feel very alive. With the beskad in hand, he led forward the black ops unit towards the amassing crowd of what one could describe as 'besiegers' of the building their men were compromised in.

Some of the Rangers, including Amon, might've expected that to be nothing more than a rabble of thugs looking to make a quick buck. Surely, some of them might've been, but others demonstrated an experience befitting trained soldiers. They had noticed the incoming Rangers and rapidly unloaded their ammo as they dashed to cover.

Losing the element of surprise forced Amon to take cover before he could even reach some of the mercenaries. A few accurate bolts from the Rangers behind him had taken out some of the lowlifes but the situation was becoming more and more problematic by the minute.

"That's A LOT of karkers right there." one of the Rangers commented through the comms as fire rained on their positions.

"And they ain't your common fether with a gun, either." another replied.

"Aye. We need to solve this ASAP."

Behind cover Amon listened to the chatter of the Rangers as he contemplated his own course of action next. They couldn't remain here for long. Outnumbered and out in the open. If, perhaps, the other two men could make their move next while most of the guns seemed to be pointed at the Black Ops team, that might help them out.



[member="Setter Ryburn"] [member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Tyrell Caphey"] [member="Roona Osmari"] [member="Lancer Damar"]

 

[Setter Ryburn]

​

Thanks to the efforts [member="Valkren Calderon"], Setter had an opening at least to move further upwards. Calderon was probably right- a set up was more than likely. But this was Nar Shaddaa. Anything was possible. Someone plugging a leak. Or maybe- maybe, and the more likely of all the outcomes, was that Setter and Valkren were simply at the right place at the wrong time.

Setter sprinted up the stairs, training his weapon on each and every doorway as he passed. Any door openings would be seen, which made him feel only slightly better about his chances of survival. That, and they were actual doors- not the usual sliding contraptions that inhabitants of urban areas usually seemed to go after nowadays.

Setter made his way up another floor, before turning to cover his comrade. The bottom floor was now practically flooded with hostiles, each more scared than the last to go up the stairs- but the number of them alone made Setter sweat more than usual in a situation like this. You could predict what a professional might do to a degree. Amateurs and gangbangers?

Unpredictable and volatile.

Setter turned to cover Valkren, as the onslaught continued. They'd have to find a way to get out of the apartment building later. For now, their only option was finding refuge higher and higher, as if they were running from a flood. And, all things considered with the amount of goons coming- that was an apt feeling.

[member="Amon Vizsla"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

Lancer grew disappointed with the outcome- and the amount of shots being exchanged not only in the building, but on the street. Too many eyes on it. And too low of a price, truth be told.

He had to up the ante if he wanted this problem solved without getting his own hands dirty- and getting wrapped up under the hateful gaze of whoever these black-clad marauders belonged to. Lancer pursed his lips. He had a lot of shooters that he knew, networking and all that.

But what if-

He put up a practical beacon?

There bounty boards that he used, and he was right now, sticking to the shooters he knew, or the people he worked with, knew. But these guys were outclassing them. They were going to get to the other two inside, and they'd be gone, and they could start piecing together what Lancer and his compatriots were up to. And that meant a lot more problems, especially if they were who Lancer thought they were.

So he brought up his wrist-mounted computer and sighed.

Every datapad that was connected to the bounty boards on the planet would get a new blip- and for most of the bounties, it'd jump straight to the top of the list.

40,000 CREDITS FOR EACH SUBJECT AT MARKED LOCATION​

40,000 ON COMPLETION​

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DEAD OR ALIVE​

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15000 FOR ANY WITH TWO SUBJECTS​

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​

And with that, Lancer slid back into the darkness, content on not getting involved- yet. Hopefully, the influx of killers, shooters at an unprecedented level would take care of his problem.

​

 

[Valkren Calderon]

After taking [member="Setter Ryburn"]'s original position, another trio of armed combatants came upwards rather gingerly. These men had their weapons ready as well, trained. The commander greeted the first two with a quick succession of five rounds. With the group bunching up in the staircase, he wasn't concerned about accuracy at first. The first three rounds found their mark, two to the chest of the first black-armored assailant, one lucky shot through the head of the one behind that.

The next two shots went wide, landing on opposite sides of the third attacker's body. Valkren cursed himself in silence as the third combatant shouldered his way past the limp body of the second that fell back down the stairs, lifting a blaster up towards the ranger in response. Valkren was able to plug him quickly with two more slugs before he could get a bolt off at him.

Move

He picked his body up, keeping his RS16 trained down the staircase for a moment, before lowering the rifle and moving up towards Setter. He'd move by his ally at a quickened pace, checking the stairs ahead of them momentarily before turning back towards the direction they both came from.

"We can keep killing all day but there's only two of us and a million guns for hire on Nar Shadaa!" Valkren would say this, before pumping a single round towards the staircase. The round pierced the drywall on the far end, surely sending whatever curious goon at the other end back down.

Valkren would take a step back, removing his left stabilizing hand from the rifle and moving to the communicator on his neck. "Extraction team, Raider One: we are currently engaged in heavy contact. Unknown number of hostiles. How copy?"

After his transmission, he'd immediately move back to keeping his weapon steady. He knew he could rely on Setter, he had been through enough chit to know when someone was at home in combat. However, the odds were stacked against them..They'd need the extra guns.

[member="Tyrell Caphey"] | [member="Amon Vizsla"]

 

[Zef Halo]

No one of the extraction team had possibly believed they'd be facing a whole army if things went south for the operatives in the building. A dozen goons, yeah. A few bounty hunters, maybe. A merc squad, perhaps. But all of these three stacked together and multiplied by ten? Not in any of the numerous contingency plans.

"Their numbers keep growing by the minute, Cap'n!"

"We're being flanked! Vizsla!"

The Mandalorian swiftly turned around as he saw a few men moving in a formation with the attempt to flank the Black Ops squad. No matter how capable the rangers were, the numbers factor's influence was growing stronger and stronger. They'd be overwhelmed very soon, if they didn't act.

Amon dashed from cover and felt the brunt of a few blaster bolts before his beskad found itself slashing through the skull of one of the flankers. In a swift follow-up movement, his hilt found the head of other hostile target nearby before Amon twirled the blade and hacked through his breastplate. He quickly ducked behind the nearest cover he had found and catching his breath from the adrenaline rush.

"Extraction team, Raider One: we are currently engaged in heavy contact. Unknown number of hostiles. How copy?"

"Raider One, this is Cobra Actual. Copy loud and clear. Platoon number of hostiles outside. We're barring their entry to the building as best as we can. Cannot hold 'em much longer. Repeat. Cannot hold 'em much longer."

"Cap'n, tell me you got a plan." One of the men said through the extraction team's channel.

"Yes, soldier." The captain replied as he lobbed a frag at the enemies from behind cover. "Dryson, Vizsla, grapple up the building from the side."

"Sir?"

"Raiders' only escape is through the rooftop and the skyline of this karkin' place. You two, go up there and secure the roof. We'll keep 'em busy. Double time!"

The two tasked with the mission curtly nodded and darted down one of the thin side alley of the building under the cover of the Rangers. Grappling hooks were fired upwards reaching the high railing of the roof. They released the mechanism which elevated them upwards onto the rooftop.

"Raider One, this is Cobra Actual. How copy?" should Raider One reply, the captain would introduce him to the plan. "Head to the rooftop. Skyline's your only way outta here. Two Rangers covering the roof. Repeat. Skyline's your only way out. Rangers securing roof perimeter. Over."

Meanwhile Dryson took a crouching position behind a ventilation shaft and kept his eyes both in the sky for hostiles and on the rooftops of the adjacent buildings. Vizsla, on the other hand, successfully tore the locked door of the roof down from which the noises of exchanged fire grew closer and closer. The beskad was sheathed, instead opting for the small SMG on his hip.

[member="Setter Ryburn"] [member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Lancer Damar"]

 

[Setter Ryburn]

"If only we brought more-" The door behind them opened. A hired gun, barely out of his pajamas, was eager to make the mark and he thought he was going to have a field day with just the two on his floor. He came out, blaster in hand. Setter swiveled, leveling the gun at his face. He didn't pull the trigger. He just shook his head. Telling him not to do it. He motioned with his free hand, to put the gun down.

He complied, and backed away slowly. Setter nodded at him, and then motioned for him to kick the blaster away. He did so again. Setter didn't want to hurt the guy truthfully. But he put two rounds in him, right in his chest anyway. He didn't want to take any chances. Besides, anyone who was willing to kill for money, right after waking up, deserved it in Setter's book.

"Only brought more ammo."


He tapped Valkren's shoulder, letting him know he was moving up another floor. They still had two to go, and a lot of bad guys. Setter heard the tell-tale whine of a speeder hovering. They were trying to cut them off from the roof. Now, they were going to have to fight in two different directions.

Shit.

That's when the radio chirped, and he realized that their little speeder mission would run right into the extraction team. Bad for them, bad for the extraction team- they would either run into each other, or wipe either or out. But, Setter didn't know how many they were planning to land on the roof. Nobody was allowed to land on the roof, what with the lanes being the way they were. They had to break out of the speeder lanes to get to where they were, and that was a big no-no. But with the amount of credits on the line, anything went.

Setter kept his weapon trained upwards, hearing shouting and running two floors up.

"Whatever our guy knew was big!"

He said knew, because, well. They weren't likely to find out anything now, or ever. But now they knew that something was going on in Silver Space. That much was clear. But whoever they were up against- not the thugs, no, they were cannon fodder. The real string-pullers, they were determined to make sure that this was as ugly as possible, and that they couldn't tell anything of what they found out, as little as it was.

No leaks.

Pros.

Pros and with something to lose.

Setter waited for Valkren to come up the stairs, coming to the conclusion that he probably was thinking the same thing. Or he might've been upset with him about double-tapping the possible threat. That probably wouldn't sit well with Jedi, but maybe the Rangers would look the other way. That was always the risk with joint ops, you always butted heads a few times. Razor's motto, usually gave away their prerogative, their mantra, their creed, whatever you wanted to call it.

Kill 'em all was a thing, and a thing they did well.

[member="Amon Vizsla"] l [member="Valkren Calderon"]