This Is A Stick Up, See? [ATTN: Val'Hala]

[Hannibal Oryen]

VAL'HALA, OLYMPIA SYSTEM
OLYMPUS, BANK OF OLYMPUS

@[member="Serock Hoath"] | @[member="Juthan'Athar"] | @[member="Thrash"] | @[member="Nova Thanewulf"]

The Arrow-23 Transport Landspeeder was not a very well known design, even less so on Val'Hala. There were few if any who recognized it for what it was- a military landspeeder that presently had its weapons retracted. Even if people did notice the peculiar model and what disastrous intent the owners likely held, they would have no way of stopping it. Val'Hala did not have a police force. Instead, it had a very large caste of "warriors" that basically doled out whatever justice they felt like. If the mood happened to strike them right. Street justice ran by an army of vigilantes. It was absolutely disgusting.

But Hannibal wasn't driving this big, heavily armed and armored landspeeder up to this particular branch of the Bank of Olympus to incite some glorious revolution on Val'Hala to rid the planet of its primitive caste system and inefficient oligarchy. He was here because this bank was a pretty popular destination for Val'Hala's moronic upper castes. They hid a lot of jewels, trinkets, and other valuable artifacts in this bank's safe deposit boxes. Not to mention how much would be there in cold, hard Credit chips. This would be a good haul that would lead to good things. But like with all good heists, he needed some dirty work to be done beforehand.

Hannibal parallel parked in front of the bank with the adroit skill of someone who frequently parallel parked. Another hint to Hannibal's totally mysterious past. He turned around in his seat. Riding shotgun with him was the Croke, Thrash. In the passenger seats behind him sat Juthan, Serock, and Nova. Reliable folks. Otherwise, he would not have brought them.

"Ight," Hannibal said to them, before turning to look at Thrash. The Croke was presently disguised as the head of security supervision for this firm. Hannibal did homework beforehand. The current head of security was tied up in his house. His wife would find him when she returned from visiting family on the otherwise of the planet in thirteen hours.

Again, homework.

"Croakie, you know what ta do. Get in there, get to ya office, shut down the alarm and the cameras." Hannibal reached into his pocket, retrieving a crumpled piece of flimsiplast with a password and some bloodstains. "That's the password. Don't lend to much thought to it, dig? Radio us on th' commlink when at's done. 'en we can get this show on th' road."

 

[Malok]

Riding shotgun in the military-grade landspeeder was an aging man dressed in a suit. His name was Robert, otherwise known as Bob to his co-workers, and it was his duty to act as the head of security for the Bank of Olympus. Despite the fact that he was obviously "up there" in age, as evidenced by the prominent wrinkles, the bald spot on the dome of his head, and his receding hair line, he was built like a warrior. In fact, Robert was a member of Val'Hala's warrior caste and had served many years as a servant of justice and the like. Oh wait...this wasn't Bob in the slightest...this was simply a Croke who had done his homework and had adopted a rather convincing disguise.

His name was Thrash and he was at the employ of a group of "undesirables" who had targeted the Bank for its riches. It was his job to, through the unique ability to project illusions that were tangible and foolproof, shut down the alarms and cameras which were scattered about the Bank. Of course, that required a password...which was promptly provided by the brains of the operation on a piece of flimsiplast. There was no overthinking it, some people had to be roughed up in order to cooperate. As such, "Bob" rendered a polite nod of understanding to his comrade, stowed the information in his pocket, and steped out of the speeder.

Now, the suspicion was lost, for the head of security had left an armored speeder. Who would be the wiser? It was his job to be tough and whatnot, right? Of course he'd come to work in something tough...

Upon ascending the marble steps to the establishment, he was greeted by a pair of "warriors". They greeted him with nods of respect and even opened the doors for him. Chumps. Calm and collected, the Croke made his way to his office, following the layout plan which was provided to him days earlier. This consisted of walking behind the frontmost row of counters, which were serving a number of patrons, and heading to the absolute rear. Once there, he closed the door behind him, descended into the seat, and pulled out the bloodstained piece of flimsiplast. "Easy enough." growled the supervisor in the Croke's native voice.

His fingertips danced across the terminal affixed into the desktop, and in a flash the alarm system was deactivated and the cameras sent offline. Then, the Croke pulled out his comm and made a holocall directly to the brains of the operation, covering his tracks expertly. "Hello? Honey, this is Bob. Just wanted to make sure you knew, I turned the oven off on the way out. Uh huh...Yes dear. Okay, buh bye." he said.

Message sent. The light was green.

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"] - @[member="Juthan'Athar"] - @[member="Nova Thanewulf"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Serock Hoath"] | @[member="Juthan'Athar"] | @[member="Thrash"] | @[member="Nova Thanewulf"]

"Bingo. Greenlight, folks."

Hannibal exited the speeder, slamming the door behind him. Slung across his back was his CC-13 blaster rifle, in addition to a number of black bags that would be used to carry loot. In his hands, he held BlasTech Industries' Retaliator. A shotgun that would inspire the fear of God in just about anyone facing it down. Hannibal, who frequently employed the device on his line of work, was just as scared of the thing as anyone else. He had intricate knowledge of what the thing did to people after all. Hannibal crossed around the front of the speeder, checking the sights on the Retaliator as he went. Once his accomplices were out of the speeder, a mental command from Hannibal had the doors lock. No one was stealing his getaway vehicle that easily.

The doors to the bank slid open. The warrior stationed at the door only had a moment to widen his eyes in shock as Hannibal entered. The cyborg depressed the trigger, firing from his hip into the unsuspecting neanderthaloid. The flechette literally tore the man's insides out, while the concussive force sent him flying backwards into a crowd of civilians. At this range, there was little chance of stray shots finding their way anywhere else. They'd be fine, aside from the dead six-foot-four brute that just landed on them. Immediately, the screaming and the chaos started, customers and employees instinctively getting low to the ground.

"Everybody get on the fethin' ground!" Hannibal roared. Another warrior approached him, un-holstering a pistol. Hannibal spun, firing another shot. Just as his comrade, death was almost instantaneous, and his limp corpse was sent sprawling a few feet away.

"Ser, Blues, sweep the rest of the first floor. N.T, get those tellers out from behind the counter. I'll keep an' eye out."

 

[Aithne Charr]

Juthan strode forward from the door and ignited his saber before bring it down on the glass that separated tellers from the main bank. Without worrying about their safety he sent a wave of force energy at the weakened glass which shattered into a hundred pieces right into the faces of those behind the counter. Hoping in her grabbed those that were crumpled in pain on the ground and started to heave them out using the force to enhance his strength and to throw them over the counter. "My apologies, our business is important and your in the way." His masked hid his grin, but oh he was having much more fun than he should be having and loving every moment of it. @[member="Hannibal Oryen"] @[member="Thrash"]

 

[King Kazma]

@[member="Juthan'Athar"] @[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Nova jumped the counter through Juthan's nice big shattered opening. Her twin blasters aimed down at two tellers not brought down by the Chiss' rain of glass. "Get out there with the rest of them or you'll be worse for wear if you don't". Those two complied rather quickly, more scared of getting shot then of the whole situation. "Right H we got them secured. Get going on that vault". Nova spun her blasters around and holstered them. She needed to get ready, in case anyone was smart and swift enough to get a message out for help. She brought along some heavy firepower, in the form of an assault blaster rifle strapped across her back. Big guns for big situations right?

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Serock calmly walked besides his fellow robbers and regarded the spectacle that unfolded in front of him. It was almost too easy, just the way he hated it. Leaving his companions to their allocated jobs he started sweeping the first room for any stragglers in the hall ways. Almost immediately he noticed a big and mean warrior walking up to him. He was almost a head larger than him and had a nasty jagged knife in his hand.

But the proud Conqueror only laughed at this. It seemed as if there would be some real action still. Grabbing hold of his own two daggers, he started slowly circling the warrior. Eye in eye, they scanned each other for any signs of weaknesses and found none. It was rare for the old Conqueror to meet someone this dangerous, almost a pity to force him to leave this world. But a job was a job and this one would have to end with a kill.

Like a lightning bolt, Serock moved towards the Warrior, feigned a stab towards his face and then lunged to the guts. He could feel his blade sink into the man's flesh and almost felt satisfied, almost. Slowly, almost lovingly, the Conqueror laid the Warrior on the ground and closed his eyes with an intimate gesture. Sighing softly he resumed his vigil and found no one else to kill.

It seemed like this would be it, as such Serock headed back to his comrades.

@[member="Nova Thanewulf"] @[member="Juthan'Athar"] @Hannibal Oryen @[member="Thrash"]

 

[Matreya]

Zaiden sat reclined in his chair, eyes shaded against the sun via dark tinted glasses. He was lost, immersed in the oceanic powers that were the essense of the Force. Every living being around himself was open to the man, none felt the Supreme Lord of Valhalla and did not allow him entrance. And it was through this that he first felt suspicious, he touched the minds of some whom did not instantly open at his touch.

Drawing back inside of himself, Zaiden rose from his position and leapt to his feet. Moving to exit his estate grounds via his LJ-909 Lightjet, Zaiden set course for the nearby bank. It would only be moments.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Serock Hoath"] | @[member="Juthan'Athar"] | @[member="Thrash"] | @[member="Nova Thanewulf"]

With the first floor well under control and being swept clean by the rest of this merry band of thieves, Hannibal peeled off to do some inspecting of the elevators over by the left of the teller booths. There were two of them, an interactive holo-panel for each. Normally these would only be used by inspectors to make sure the things were operating safely or that the correct security protocols were in place. Today, they would be used by Hannibal to seize control of the elevators. Interfacing with them through his PsiCom implant, Hannibal deftly sliced through the archaic security protocols of the Val'Halans.

"These guys really don't know to much 'bout anythin', do they?" Hannibal muttered. He locked one elevator down completely and took direct control of the second one. Thrash would need to use more creative means to get back to the first floor, but that shouldn't have been too much a problem for him. As long as the majority of the people on the second floor remained isolated, the plan could continue to go off without a hitch. The second elevator, the one Hannibal took direct control of, slid open. This would be their ticket down to the vault.

Hannibal did a brief check of his equipment. Gun number one, gun number two, gauntlets, jetpack, helmet... All good, all optimal. There would no doubt be some kind of firefight down there. Better to be prepared. Knowing the potential dangers to be found in such close quarters, Hannibal had an idea of who to call in joining him. He whistled loudly, hoping to attract the attention of his wingman.

"Hey, Ser! You're up, bucko!"

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Serock grunted in agreement and stepped into the lift with Hannibal.

A difficult task indeed, for there was a lot of thinking involved. One step at a time, while trying to not lose his balance. But that was why they had hired him, for Serock knew how to accomplish difficult tasks. Like walking up to a lift and standing it. In the end he managed to secure his balance, get into the lift and even nod towards the Hannibal. An achievement well worth celebrating, Serock thought. Maybe when he was done with his job, that he could find himself a nice little bar and get wasted.

But that was an issue for another time, for now there was another issue on his mind. It seemed that he had to go to the bathroom and there was not one in the vicinity. He sighed softly, such was the troubles of mercenaries.

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"] @[member="Nova Thanewulf"] @[member="Juthan'Athar"] @Thrash

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Serock Hoath"] | @[member="Juthan'Athar"] | @[member="Thrash"] | @[member="Nova Thanewulf"]

Hannibal suddenly felt the urge to punch Serock square in the kisser for unwarranted sass, but then realized that no sass had been visibly displayed and that there was really no call for such urge. In that same instant, the urge vanished and so did Hannibal's memory of it. There were much more important things to worry about for the moment. Hannibal smashed a button on the lift's control pad and, before long, Serock and he were on their way down to the lower level: the location of the safe deposit boxes.

The ride down was brief and the doors slowly slid open, revealing an empty hallway that split off in three directions. No doubt the guards or staff down here were holing themselves up or someplace else, trying to figure out what the ruckus was upstairs and why the elevators weren't working. Hannibal strode down the hallway, moving wordlessly for the middle path. Next stop, safe deposit box-land.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

@Hannibal Oryen | @Juthan'Athar | @Thrash | @Nova Thanewulf

The urge to urinate all over Hannibal was astounding, but he kept cool. Because.. well that would totally be unprofessional. And if Serock was anything, he was a professional. As such he resisted the sudden desire. After a while the desire faded into nothingness and removed itself completely from his memories.

When the lift had finally arrived at its destination, Serock wordlessly followed Hannibal.

 

[King Kazma]

@[member="Shado"] @[member="Juthan'Athar"]

Nova jumped back over the tellers desk. Things were going real smooth and they had the whole situation under their total control. No alarms, no one running away, no trouble. "Juthan I'm going to keep watch outside. Make sure these people don't try anything dumb". Having her out there would be like an early warning device. No one could sneak up on her with her suits sensors. Not anyone normal anyways. She was the greatest armored of them all too, so why not put a wall to stop any heroics in their tracks. Things though were still all calm. Nova took up position outside the door, guard like stance to not draw unwanted attention. No one would be allowed in; reason being would be some maintenance issue or something to any schmucks who came to do any regular banking pleasures.