Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Throwdown on Taris

Standing behind the bar of the cantina Aten polished a glass, all around him people milled about the cantina thriving with life. Aten was one of those Jedi that fully believed in still making a living despite going on missions and fighting for the betterment of the galaxy. What point was there to doing such things if you couldn’t at least learn independence or responsibility? Thus, this go nowhere, do nothing job in the lower parts of Taris. It was no secret where Aten worked as only weeks ago a Sith had come looking for the Jedi before he was ousted by the padawan.

Placing one glass down on the bar Aten filled it to the brim with Corellian Ale sliding it down the bar without even looking to the one who had ordered it, a tendril of willpower carrying it and halting it before the customer. He was quite the accomplished bartender to have been so young, barely old enough to serve but the job kept the credits pouring in enough for the Jedi to eat, keep his vessel running and support his reserved lifestyle. Strolling up to the bar a twi’lek of the leviathan breed, incredibly rare creatures. She was drabbed in not but two thin pieces of fabric that left very little to the imagination. His first week Aten hadn’t been able to face her when speaking, now the Morellian could look her directly in the eyes without flinching. “Table three needs a supernova.” Leaning on the bar her face mere inches from Aten’s she smiled playfully at the boy. “Aw, you look troubled, is it still about that bounty?”

“Yep.” A one-word answer, back turning to the
twi’lek Aten went to work the bottles in his hand spinning as the Jedi poured the first few ounces of liquor he brought around the bottle of punch topping the drink off. “I was wrongly accused, none of its true.” Spinning on a dime placing the drink in front of the twi’lek his eyes revealed nothing.

“Listen, there is no one out of it enough to attack a public cantina.” The
twi’lek reassured him before heading off with the drink.

“I hope you’re right.” The words were said just beneath a whisper, near inaudible to even those at the bar as the Bith band changed to a faster-paced song the
zeltron and twi’lek dancers on their poles moving to the increased rhythm.

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
Notoriety. It bled from certain individuals after their legendary exploits swept across the Galaxy. Proving to be a blessing for one seeking future employment, and warning off attackers with nothing but their presence alone. Yet, it doubled as a curse. Said figure just isn't able to roam the streets without garnering some attention, especially when that man wore a rather recognisable set of Mandalorian Armour. In certain circles, Fett was more than capable of roaming undetected, but not on Taris. The same, unfortunately, went for Julian Valentine and his Hammerhead'd Helmet (to what extent nobody but he could explain, really).

The two of which had arrived, not as adversaries, but as allies. It wasn't a partnership, but something brief. Koda needed to know the capabilities of the man who competed against him in this dangerous game of cat and mouse, and what better way than to work alongside and see them first hand. He could only assume that same went for Julian. You couldn't trust anyone, a fundamental truth.

Fett was meticulous, especially for a man who had no formal education- surprisingly intelligent too. His research ran deep, and in the end uncovered that Aten Ramses was working out of a Cantina on Taris, and further investigation revealed which one and when. Julian certainly helped, though. Yet, a Jedi working as a barman wasn't particularly common, now was it? The answer was 'no, if you were wondering.

After the utilisation of his jetpack, Fett found himself situated upon a rooftop. He was out of sight, and out of mind. Shrouded in the darkness of the night sky. Yet, a hint of the moonlight reflected upon a part of his armour. Moving into an enclosed space, a crowded one that appeared to be foreign territory was never the brightest of ideas. As a result? The Mandalorian was to wait on the outside, and perhaps Valentine was to enter. Without that helmet, he appeared rather 'normal'.

Have to wait and see just how normal he could be.

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
"For the strength of the pack is the wolf,
and the strength of the wolf is the pack."

Julian Valentine entered the cantina. He was covered in a thick brown coat that was buttoned up to his collar and the length of the coat ran to his knees where his mechanical legs protruded out. His helmet wasn't in sight and without his helmet he could be anybody. The only thing that made Julian iconic was the Hammerhead Helm he wore. His beard was scruffy and flecked with grey, his hair was unkempt and did as it pleased. He looked like an ordinary spacer looking for hard liquor.

His eyes darted to the barkeep, then to a booth in the far right corner of the cantina. The bounty hunter strode over to the booth and sat down. There was a group drinking there already. Among them was Svel Droma, his contact. When Julian sat down, Svel reached under the table and activated the tranquility screen that gave them a semblance of privacy. While people could still see through the yellow energy field, they could not hear their conversation. It allowed a semblance of privacy in a cantina.

Julian nestled up to Svel and saw in her lap, under the table, a package that was crudely covered. Beneath it was his helmet. The rest of his arsenal was under the coat he was wearing. "You're all looking for work I hear?" Julian says to the small crowd at the booth. Varying aliens of different backgrounds and ages, all of them shared one thing in common. Criminal records. It pained him greatly to replace Willow, but he couldn't have Svel with him for much longer. She had her own tasks to pursue for Lysle of the Hydian Way and the Red Raven Syndicate.

Valentine would interview the people present and go over the details Svel provided all the while keeping an eye on Aten over at the bar. Patience was a virtue. Koda was in place and Julian would wait for a moment of opportunity. Whether that was when the bar closed at the end of the night or something else unexpected. The music from the Bith band playing was a distant thumping as the sound vibrations attempted to penetrate the shield. Meanwhile, Julian got to work.
 
Standing behind the bar Aten watched each customer as they entered and left, most faces he’d come to know. Many were criminals, some bounty hunters, others smugglers, in a way this was a safe haven for them. The law of Taris never dealt with the lower portions of the city, partly out of safety and sheer laziness. Perhaps the only thing that kept a majority of them from attempting to claim the bounty on Aten’s head was that the Jedi was far from an easy target. He may have been but a padawan but he’d witnessed and been apart of enough battles with Sith that outclassed him and came out on top most of the time, still managing to walk away alive in the worst cases. This had left Aten with both a sense of pride and cockiness, tempered by the teachings of his Master.

Time always seemed to move quickly as the Jedi let himself become absorbed in his work, though his eyes were always on the cantina and those within. His senses honed as he lowered himself into the currents of the force. After the recent incursion of a Sith knight coming after him after
hours, Aten had to be prepared. If another showed up during these hours they wouldn’t hesitate to slay the civilians. Looking to his chrono Aten looked up, “We’re closed!” The youth shouted.

A chorus of groans and mumbles rose to meet Aten’s declaration, it was now approaching nearly three in the morning and yet they wished to linger about enjoying the dancers and drink. “What if we don’t want to leave?” A voice shouted out from amidst the crowd, a familiar drunkard that was nearly there every night.

“You remember what happened last time you tried to stay Shadir, you better go home before you end up pissing yourself again.” Aten teased a slight smirk on the Jedi’s lips as the overweight human flushed cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. The groans turned to laughs as some people clapped the man on the back pushing him out of the bar them all filing out.


With a sigh Aten leaned forward on the bar his gauntleted hand reaching down to pull out a glass of Arkanian sweet milk, top shelf stuff. It lacked the burn of stronger alcohols and carried a sweet tinge that the young Jedi enjoyed. Setting a glass before him Aten filled it up. He’d have to get to work cleaning soon but this was his time. After an entire shift of serving drinks to others the Morellian thought he at least deserved one of his own.

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
The Bounty Hunter waited, and waited, and waited. Time passed slow when you did nothing but wait for it to go, to drift into the endless void and never be repeated again. As fickle as it as, a concrete moment in time was never forgotten. It lingered within all, allowing them to call back on the joys and the sorrows of the lives they led. Fett led a life that contained both, but who didn't? Some more than others, yes, but nobody cared for the pain you endured in this business. Only the pain you can cause, of which Koda could cause more than enough any Hutt or Sith wanted to pay him for. Had a habit for earning more than was originally offered, especially when Carnifex was throwing his Empire's credits at him.

That T-Visor of Fett's stared down in the direction of the doorway, watching as the drunkards stumbled out and journeyed home, only to return a day later and repeat the process all over again. Koda had known enough alcoholics in his life to assume their daily events. Typically worked manual labouring jobs, capable of shrugging off the deadliest of hangovers, spend everyday they can at the Cantina. Made them easier to track down when they wronged the wrong man, of course.

His helmet activated a scanning pulse, an orange hue filled his area as the edge of every surface became digitised in the aforementioned colour. Julian was inside, as were his goons, same with Aten. No matter what, you didn't engage a Jed in an enclosed space if you could help it. Unless you wanted to get yourself killed, however...

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
In the safety of the tranquility field they schemed. Quiet hands passed toxic detonators beneath the table. The backs of the booth provided security from eyes, and the field providing the security from ears they needed. Julian didn't need to look under the table, his hand ran under it and he felt the charges. Dioxis. He had come here to interview the folks at the table but interviewing criminals was not the same as interviewing for a desk top. Get the job done right and you get the job.

Julian Valentine looked at a woman across from him. Her fiery red hair fell around her shoulders, pink lips smirked and a single icy blue eye watched him - her other was replaced by a cybernetic implant. She went by the name of Paige, but Julian had a feeling that wasn't her name. Nor did he believe her when she said she was human, and neither did Svel. Too many cybernetics to be human. Humans were a sturdy species but the medical science involved with cybernetics was complicated, too many cybernetics and your body would reject them, sometimes the rejections could be so severe it could cause death.

This woman was a walking cybernetic machine, a cyborg if he had ever seen one. It only made sense when Svel did a background sweep and found her real credentials. Iskalloni. That made sense. Though she didn't have the characteristic blue skin it could have been augmented to reflect a more human skin tone. What was she hiding? Julian wondered. Did she have a past that was going to catch up one day? Perhaps put him in danger.

Aten shouted at this point and Julian nodded. "Let's go," Julian said and looked towards the group and they all remained silent. He thumbed the tranquility screen under the table and then the charges. There was no give-away ticking you'd see in the Holofilms, it was silent. Julian stood up and the others followed him out the door, Svel passing him the wrapped package that had his helmet within. They pushed through the front door and spilled out into the quiet empty streets. The other drunkards of the cantina stumbled their way homes, some found home in the gutter, too drunk to walk.

"Three," Julian counted down over the commlink to Koda. "Two," Julian turned back to the cantina and watched, the other aliens splitting up and retreating back into the Taris underworld. All except for Svel Droma and Paige. They were standing nearby, watching. "One," Julian finished. Nothing happened. At least, not outside. A potent toxic gas known as Dioxis would suddenly be released from the near-silent charges and in a manner of minutes it would fill the cantina.
[ - [member="Aten Ramses"] - ]
 
Standing behind the bar Aten watched all the figures file out, nothing tipping the Jedi off to what was happening as he tried to enjoy his drink. At least nothing tipped him off till he saw what appeared to be smoke flow from beneath tables all around the bar. Namely far away from the Jedi, most people may take the time to examine the smoke but not Aten. This wasn’t his first rodeo with someone hunting him, he’d been hunted through the forests of Dxun by a Sith knight, another had shown up here at his place of work. Aten’s head was wanted on a platter but there was only one exit, it being at the very front of the cantina.

The gas began to fill the room, thankfully no dispensers had been placed near the bar, if they had Aten would’ve possibly spotted whoever had done such things and been vigilant enough to spot others before the customers had departed. Calmly, almost too calmly Aten reached down beneath the bar retrieving four metal flasks. The contents of which were unknown to everyone except himself. A recent addition to his armory after the battle of Dubrillion where he’d ‘disarmed’ an acolyte. Pocketing the goods Aten looked to the entrance, the gas slowly blocking off his exit. At least the only exit that was expected.

With a tendril of will Aten looked down to his gauntlets mentally switching their settings from low to high. Whoever had done this had set up a trap, one Aten didn’t plan on falling for. Turning his right fist pulling back Aten swung out in a straight jab with it. On impact the wall detonated outwards in a massive explosion,
duracrete and other bits of debris filled the back alley behind the bar as Aten stepped through the newly formed hole flexing his fist. The gauntlets having done their job, the sonic damage and vibrations easily destroying the wall. It was only to be expected when on their highest setting it was made to shred armor and shatter the hardest of sithspawn carapaces.

Stepping out into the streets of Taris, Aten looked up. The other building was far too close to the cantina where an attack from above would be ill-advised at best due to the issue of aiming down. There were two paths he could take. The left or right, whichever one he chose Aten was sure the hunters would be moving to pincer him. So he'd simply wait opening himself to the force drawing it in. The currents filling the jedi for the bout to come. Wonder if the cantina ever got insurance?

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
This Bounty Hunter's eyes flickered beneath his battered and bruised Mandalorian Helmet. The HUD was all so colourful, all so full- distracting to an individual who wasn't familiar with this particular type of tech. For a culture so stuck in rather primitive ways, or so they seemed, their technology was truly a marvel. A shame that most of it was designed for raw killing power, though. Fett happened to be in Exile, however. It didn't seem as if he was heading back to Mandalore for anything new these days. Fortunately, you didn't truly have to considering all the people that wanted someone else dead in this harsh and unforgiving Galaxy.

His Helmet emitted yet another Scanning Pulse. Enveloping the area ahead, and around him in a three-hundred-and-sixty degrees radius with an orange hue that outlined objects beyond walls, and even sentient beings. And there only appeared to be one figure inside. Fett remained low to the ground, a knee planted firmly on the rooftop of the building adjacent to the Cantina as the Rangefinder persisted to be present over the T-Visor. "Hmrph." He grunted in disappointment as Aten began to fiddle, then letting out a loud crack that forced a sizeable hole in the rear of the Cantina.

"Cut off the alleys." Fett spoke over their encrypted comm-channel. It may have sounded as if it was an order, but it was the Mandalorian who had the eyes on the target.

Flames began to spit from the twin-exhausts that happened to be attached to the Jetpack he wore. Their energy thrust the Bounty Hunter into the air, propelling him across the street and onto the rooftop. As he did so, his left hand removed itself from the Carbine and took aim directly above the doorway. A missile was fired, crumbling the material of the building that fell in the entrance, blocking it off.

It was late, it was dark, it was quiet. Aten was likely to hear the roar of the Jetpack, however brief. His booted feet collided with the rooftop, and he reared himself backwards as to stop himself from stumbling forwards. With Carbine in hand, Koda in fact aimed downwards- positioning himself in such a way that he wasn't very visible due to the rooftop's ledge concealing most of his form.

A flurry of stunbolts were thrust in the direction of the Jedi, their intention to strike true. He wasted no time on words, for they weren't useful against an individual backed into a corner. As any beast does, they're prone to lash out violently.

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
Julian checked his chronometer and then unwrapped the package Svel had given him. The hammerhead helm glistened under the light. A fresh coat of paint and recent fixes made it look brand new. Koda Fett had burnt a metal fin to the point of molten slag during their encounter, and the battle on Carida left it pocketed with blaster scorches.

He stared down at the helmet and remembered Willow for a moment, and Yee. He hated himself for doing it but he had to hand the kid over to someone who would look after him. He would remain in danger for as long as he stuck with Valentine and he wasn't willing to let the kid get that close to death again. In a way, Yee was the son Julian never had, nor would he ever. Bounty Hunting left little time for love or family. He missed them.

Julian placed the helmet over his head and became Valentine. The Hammerhead. He checked his holsters and had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about this hunt. Last time he had hunted a Jedi without a ysalamiri he had lost his legs. Now replaced by mechanical cybernetics. His last nutrient pack had been squashed in a fight, the reptile splattered against his back. Nasty business.

He had ordered another nutrient pack on the Hydian Way, a black market set up by [member="Jen"] over the Cryptnet, the Red Ravens anonymous Holonet browser. The pack had yet to arrive but the hunt would begin nonetheless. He reached to his belt and looked down at the vast array of weapons and gadgets. The mechanical legs helped support the weight of them as the belt was attached to the top of his legs where they joined his hips.

He removed the thermal macrobinoculars and held them to his helmets visual feed, his looked downrange and saw the heat signature of Aten as he fumbled around in the cantina. "What are you doing," Valentine whispered to himself, curious. Then Aten went to the rear wall and Valentine heard the explosion. He turned his head to Svel and Paige and gave them a two-finger order, pointing to the alley.

Valentine broke into a jog and moved to flank, "Koda, keep your eyes on him," he said over their Cryptnet-encrypted comm-channel. By the time he rounded the corner, Koda was hailing down stun rounds atop of Aten, Paige and Svel had just cut off a potential retreat. "Open up," Julian said over the commlink. Svel and Paige both fired blaster pistols set to stun.

Valentine curled his fists, a crushgaunt in his left hand and a shockmitt set to near-lethal amounts of electrical current on his right hand. He had never been a martial artist and his stormtrooper training had taught him the basics of melee. No, it was the Dragon Palace Casino that taught him to fight dirty. The Red Ravens that taught him shockboxing.
 
The life of a Jedi was never easy, Aten hadn’t expected it to be. He expected retribution for aiding the Rebels during their raid on the Dubrillion Kolto factory. This was more than the Morellian had ever bargained for or imagined in his wildest of dreams. The sound of a jetpack cut through the air, sending a shiver retreating down the Jedi’s spine, one of warning. How often was it that one used a jetpack on Taris at this time of the night? Aten knew the answer to that as he’d been working in the cantina enough to know it. NEVER. The heavy footfalls from the roof above alerting him to presences. Then there were more coming from either side of the alley. This wasn’t just one or two hunters. They’d brought an entire squad to take down the jedi. In a way, Aten was flattered they thought so much of him, on the other this was a horrifying experience.

His mental instincts kicking in as that shiver turned into a full-on tingle across his cranium Aten moved
pressing his back to the side of the building the bounty hunter above spraying down bolt after bolt. The only silver lining was that by pressing his back to the wall of the building the hunter stood on he’d be unable to hit the Jedi. This cut off an entire side Aten could use though. There wasn’t much in the alley for cover either. A dumpster near the cantina but that wasn’t enough. It was to Aten’s left pressed against the wall. That energy he’d been building up as the hunters approached, it was nearing the time to release it.

Out of all of Romi Jade’s apprentices Aten didn’t consider himself the most elegant or skilled saber duelist. That right was reserved for Jace. Nor was he the most knowledgeable on numerous force abilities, that was Quvox. Aten… If there was one thing he had over the others it was knowledge of the telekinetic aspects of the force. Fists pulling back Aten pushed them forward as two figures rounded the corner on his right just in time to be met by the twin projected strikes. A style of telekinesis that had fallen out of style long ago, one that Aten blended with his martial arts. The invisible fists lashed out to impact the two individuals chins or where they should be, on impact they’d explode releasing more telekinetic force to throw them to the ground hopefully the blows to the chins incapacitating them. Human or not the chin was called “the button” for a reason. The force of a blow there could make the brain hit the inside of the skull knocking one unconscious. Cybernetic or not they still had a brain. Turning to the left Aten saw another figure, the silhouette alone menacing. “I don’t want to do this… Please don’t make me. You can all turn and leave.” The Jedi called aloud hopefully enough for everyone to hear over the screeching of the stun bolts shot by the one above. The same words Aten had said to not only the Sith that had placed the bounty on him but the one that had come chasing the bounty.

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
That was always the thing to remember. If someone, no matter who, was wronged by any means and that individual had a sliver of criminal intent you were sure to find a Bounty Hunter knocking on your door soon enough. Most, however, could only pray it wasn't a man such as Fett. Unrelenting in his cruel disregard, for it was the job that mattered most. The Sith favoured the man for a reason, after all. His morality dwindled with each zero added onto the payment he was to be promised. It was sure to disadvantage Aten that the Mandalorian loathed Jedi for one reason or another. Nobody was privy to the details of the Clone's life.

Blue, seemingly ionic, rounds discharged from the Bounty Hunter's Blaster Carbine. Each flash that illuminated the dark alleyway reflected upon his pitch black T-Visor. A closer inspection was sure to reveal the fleeting image of Aten as he fled from the fire, shifting into a position that was sure to prove unfavourable for Fett. Although, fret not. There was always a counter-measure. Always another trick up the metaphorical sleeve, of that you can be certain.

The Bounty Hunter relinquished his left hand's grip upon the Carbine, rushing it to the back of his hip- reaching into one of the many pouches that surrounded his waistline. A Sonic Detonator revealed within his palm, thrusting a thumb down upon the primer before simply dropping it over the edge. When detonating, it emitted an ear piercing screech that was capable of incapacitating both Organics and Droids. On rarer occasions, when encountering Bith, they were known to cause their heads to explode, and force a Sullustan's ears to bleed...

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
The Jedi had evaded a hellstorm of stun bolts in the small alleyway. Julian way as the Jedi lashed out, striking air but the Force impact on the two was notable. Svel's head cocked up, her feet went limp and she staggered back and fell flat on her backside. She was dazed. Paige had taken the blow, her chin moving only the slightest but flesh had torn away from her chin at the impact. Underneath was more cybernetics and metal. Iskalloni weren't like humans. They could cover every inch of their body in metal and implants and their body would accept it, allowing them incredible durability if needed through their enhancements.

The Jedi called out, telling them they didn't need to do this. Julian snorted and laughed, "Oh by the Force! Did you hear that? We don't need to do this!" Julian waved a hand, "Let's pack up and go home, I'm keen on a nap." While he had been making an obvious jest of Aten, his eyes were darting throughout the HUD and visuals of his helmet. Giving commands to the Huckleberry holsters at his hip. The left holster had a razer net, the right a shatter gun. The left holster had targeted Aten during Julians sarcastic and mocking comments, the gun rearing itself. "Alright fellas, time to go home," As Julian hiked a thumb over his shoulder, finishing his tirade and mockery of Aten, the razer net fired.

It shot a tube towards Aten and only a meter ahead of him it exploded outwards into a large net, hopefully to engulf him if successful. The net was made of a wire mesh that was sharpened to a razer-point. It was a particularly cruel method of capture that caused extreme lacerations to those caught in its embrace. Meanwhile Paige had turned to Svel and with super-human strength through technologically-enhanced muscle, she grabbed the womans collar and shirt front and slid her down the pavement and out of harms way.
 
Aten hadn’t even attempted to dodged stunbolts, the two being able to fire before his strikes hit them was shocking, thankfully all the bolts did was burn through his upper layer of clothing revealing the layer of Asheran armorweave that lay beneath, something the Jedi had come to be quite fun of on Dubrillion. A Jedi typically only wore robes or base clothing but in all truth with everyone kitted out to be potentially lethal it was required to take precautions. Spinning on his heels Aten faced the Hammerhead helmet, it seemed quite… Awkward. Perhaps it was there to intimidate the prey of the hunter? Maybe this man wanted it to be the last thing they saw.

The mocking tone caused the Morellian’s cheeks to flush slightly and two things happened all at once. His attention having been on the Bounty Hunter on the ground Aten’s attention had been too drawn from the threat on the roof. That head tingling sensation retreated down his spine Aten scolding himself for his foolishness. Eyes glancing up he saw the silvery orb falling in his direction. Chit. That was all Aten had time to think his right arm raising in hopes of forming a curved barrier to catch the explosive. The manifestation of his will began to form then it exploded. Not in a ball of flame and shrapnel but one of sonic resonance. The air shook, hummed as the high-frequency explosion rocked Aten’s world.


Eyes watering Aten’s balance was thrown off ears ringing, the curved barrier had reflected some of the sound but even then that was negligible. Wobbly on his feet Aten couldn’t focus on the threat of the net coming at him. The razor net coalescing around the jedi seeking to imprison and shred his flesh. Thankfully the asheran weave was able to deal with not only lightsabers and blaster technology but also bladed weapons keeping the net from cutting his flesh. The right arm that had been extended drew in protecting the Jedi’s face his left hand needing to only press out slightly to knock against the net activating the gauntlets. While the knock wasn’t carrying that much force the vibrations of the gauntlet did their job tearing through the metal of the net with little resistance. Aten had never switched the settings back to low and was thankful he hadn’t in this instance. If he had he probably would’ve been trapped.

His balance regained Aten couldn’t hear a single thing, his most important sense against these foes robbed. All the Morellian could hear was the distant ringing. Unwilling to go out without putting up a fight Aten’s right foot stepped toward the bounty hunter and came down in a stomp. A pointless gesture to many, posturing some would think. But how wrong they were from beneath Valentine the manifestation of Aten’s will formed transferring that stomp upwards directly at the man’s family jewels. On impact the strike releasing the energy upwards in hopes of distracting and putting the hunter out of commission for a bit. Snatching and propelling things with the force took more focus than Aten was willing or capable of giving in this instant turning on his heels Aten sprinted down the alley towards where the other two had come from. Ensuring he remained close to the wall he’d used to keep him safe from the assailant on the roofs stun bolts eyes flicking up to catch sight of that foe.


[member="Koda Fett"], [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
Luck.

Many wielded such mystical power with seemingly limitless potential. Aten may consider himself lucky as that armourweave shielded his flesh from ammunition that was fired at him, and then the razor net that ensnared his legs for all but a short time. Perhaps it was a previous experience that forced the idea to purchase such clothing into his mind, or maybe he simply came across it. A particular set of events that led to the Padawan finding himself protected from the Bounty Hunters. It was all too similar to the force as far as Fett was concerned and that man could never trust anything, least of all something he may never truly understand.

As the young Morellian began to depart from the area, darting off towards Svel and Paige with the intention of surely removing them from the fight, Fett activated his jetpack and it was certainly heard. He shifted to his left, finding Aten directly across from him as stun rounds and a whipcord were launched in his direction whilst the Bounty Hunter merely strafed along the alleyway.

​Manoeuvrability was certainly a benefit.

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
Julian's helmet scrambled as a sudden burst of audio erupted. He was temporarily deaf but for the commlinks white noise. Then audio returned when and Julian held back any pride or celebration for taking down the Jedi in the net. He knew something wasn't right when Aten tore his way out.

Then Aten was back up on his feet. Julian watched his movement with a keen eye, noting the stomp. Microseconds passed as his mind calculated. He knew what had happened to Svel and Paige at such movements.

Julian reacted but perhaps too late. He took a step aside but mid-step the energy impacted under his left foot. It sent him flying off balance as he was suddenly hurled sideways like a wagon wheel and slammed down on the pavement. The fin of his helmet scrapping the asphalt with a horrible nails-on-chalkboard noise.

Temporarily disorientated and confused, Julian gathered his wits and jumped to his feet with a shove of his hands against the ground. Aten was running down the alley towards Paige and Svel. Paige was just turning around, raising a sonic hold-out blaster, when Aten closed in. She pulled the trigger.

Julian cursed under his breath and sprinted down the alley to follow, Koda's stun rounds flying overhead towards Aten. Julian used a burst of his jetpack and launched himself towards Aten. The Jaeger-sponsored bounty hunter unsheathed a C11 combat knife as his jetpacks burst allowed him to close the distance with speed. He attempted to slam the blade into Atens right shoulder with the increased strength of his left hands crushgaunts, his right hand reached from his other shoulder from behind, attempting to simultaneously shock him with the shockmitt.



{Done on Phone}
 
The jig was up, they now knew about the Asheran armorweave and so Aten no longer took precautions against the stun bolts as they rained down at him, the weave was more than capable of withstanding it as it could even stand up to a heavy turbolaser fire, didn’t mean the rest of Aten’s body could though. Eyes looking up Aten finally caught a glimpse of the assailant that had deafened him. Green armor, the T-shaped visor, the entire build screamed Mandalorian. Of course it’s a fething Mandalorian! More stunbolts were rained in his direction but along with it, a thin cord whistled through the air. Before the Morellian was also one of the other hunters they’d brought with them. Closing in Aten looked upon the women, creature? He didn’t know how to truly describe the individual before him her weapon raising. The other hunter had inadvertently given Aten a way out of the attack.

Eyeing the cord and with a slight flick of his fingers, Aten sent the cord to the woman with her sonic pistol where it would wrap around binding her instead thus hopefully giving Aten time to continue fleeing. Though there was no such luck or wasn’t in the will of the force as Aten’s hearing slowly began to return and the roaring of a second jetpack assaulted his ears. He made the mistake of turning to face the hunter, Valentine approached at a ridiculous speed the knife aimed at Aten’s right shoulder. The weave was supposed to be immune to bladed weaponry but never had such a thought been put into when there was that much momentum behind a target.

The hunter slammed into Aten the knife penetrating the weave a white-hot surge of pain surging through Aten’s body. The Morellian roared his left fist raising and aiming in a straight punch at the hunter’s chest where the gauntlet would activate still on its high setting a large sonic shockwave would be released point blank at the hunter the vibrations of the gauntlet meant to tear at even the thickest of Sithspawn carapaces and armor. Aten could only hope that the hunter lived if the strike landed. He’d never wanted to take a life, nor did he ever intend on maiming those he fought. So far it seemed Aten was being forced to do so or simply give in and let his life be stolen by others seeking their treasures.

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
Jedi were despised for good reason.

The Mandalorian traversed the air above the rest with ease, accompanied by the flames of his jetpack that fired with an intense roar and bright flame. There was no mistaking that someone was making quite the fuss, especially when accompanied by the firing of several weapons of varying ammunition type, even the whir of robotic legs in action. Aten could run, but he couldn't run forever. They always ran, but they never get very far. As the saying went, 'You can run, but you'll only die tired.'

Fett's wrist-mounted and fired whipcord soared through the air, manipulated by the Jedi once it departed the former's worn, red gauntlet. It ensnared a member of their team, if one could even call it that. They were with Julian, not Koda. That permanent scowl beneath his helmet grew firmer, almost cementing across the face beneath the Helmet. The one that near nobody ever saw. Maybe Fett wasn't entirely comfortable with being 'just a clone', or even compared to being nothing more than a carbon-copy of his template who excelled in the same profession. Whatever it was, the rationale was one devised by the reclusive individual who concealed himself in Mandalorian Armour. He never even knew if anyone was familiar with Fett Clones in the current Galaxy. Suppose it is better to be safe than it is to be sorry.

​Not willing to take a life? May just be where the Jedi as a whole failed. It was a necessary evil, if not anything else.

The Padawan had successfully been struck by Valentine's particularly nasty knife, and even with the possibility that it could do the trick, Fett moved in further. He lowered himself towards the ground via his Jetpack, the spare-hand and gauntlet adorned forearm aimed in the direction of Aten, launching yet another whipcord - Koda always made sure to keep it divided in the instance it may be wasted all in one go - in the direction of Aten's legs, attempting to ensnare the figure once more, and prevent him from landing a potentially lethal blow upon Julian.

His booted feet hit the ground.

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 
The knife went through weave and flesh, then it erupted. The C-11 was no normal blade. Instantaneously the computer chip of the knife reacted, calculating at a rate beyond human comprehension or ability. Quicker than one could blink the knife had disabled all safety measures as the computer chip recognized the stab. A massive, directionalized repulsor-generated sonic strike would lay waste for a full half meter in front of the knife with the destructive force of a speeder bike crash. This instant release of energy is able to rip and squeal, raze and sunder the very essence of an opponent and leave what would have been a bleeding knife stab into something more akin to a crater in their shoulder.

But in the same time, Aten had reacted to Julian. The bounty hunter was not covered in armour and the blast hit him full force. He was thrown through the air backwards. The jetpack sputtered and lost power. His helmets visuals shut down and all went dark as Julian slammed against the ground several meters away. He coughed and blood came out and splattered the screen of his helmet as the visuals kicked back online. He took a breath in but it came in a garbled wheeze and he felt something warm his clothes. He stood, but not for the strength of his body, but the mechanical durability and might of his legs. He looked down and saw his chest was partially caved, he tried to breathe again but could barely do so, once more coming in as a wheeze. His lung was punctured. His ribs cracked and bone had shattered. Blood was soaking his tunic. He was dying.
 
The explosion that followed the knife embedding itself in his arm exploding outwards with a similar sonic energy to his own gauntlet Aten stared in shock, horror and disgust as the favor was returned instantly to the hunter. The flesh, sinew, and bone were shredded through by the impact Aten’s shoulder exploding outwards his right arm tore free. A surge of pain rippling across the Morellian’s form before he knew what had happened. His body shook and he fell to the ground. Was this what Adrian felt? No longer was it a white-hot pain, it was an inferno. As his lost appendage hit the ground it was almost as if it signaled for Aten to do the same.

Falling to his knees the Morellian screamed his left arm raising but suddenly he felt something binding around his legs, tightening, restricting his movement. Falling forward Aten hit the ground the fibrecord having entangled his legs. Gritting his teeth Aten looked over to the hunter that rose from the ground as though there was no issue but Aten could see there was. The pain wracked his body, Aten could feel it coalescing around him, driving him further his vision turning red, anger trying to rise to the surface. It told him to release what energy he had left in a magnificent explosion taking the hunters with him. Aten’s training said something different, he’d done enough damage on this day, there had been too much violence and he’d possibly done irreversible damage to someone else.

“ENOUGH IS ENOUGH” Left fist slamming onto the ground there was a sharp crack, another surge of pain starting at Aten’s hand and retreating up his arm. Having fractured his hand eyes locking on the T-visor Aten channeled the force into a massive fist that came from not above the Mandalorian but formed just before his chest to impact and explode. Aten needed that hunter gone if he were to help the other. The pain threatening to overtake the
jedi he reached for the metal flasks he’d retrieved before leaving the bar. With a thought, Aten flipped the lid off the first and chugged it down. These weren’t flasks filled with liquor, no there was something viler within. Concentrated ichor, the ichor of the nightsisters. Here a jedi was drinking it, he hadn’t bought the potions, instead, he'd relieved Adrian of them. Guzzling down the potion Aten felt the wound closing, flesh and sinew beginning to form where his arm had once been, the pain subsiding. While it wouldn’t grow a new arm it would staunch the blood flow and ensure the Jedi didn’t die or faint. The force returned to Aten in a surge filling him and revitalizing him. The second flask Aten tossed across to the feet of the hunter.

“Drink it! Hurry!” There is no more time for this, no more fighting. Looking in the direction of Fett, Aten’s eyes carried fear, not fear for his own life but for that of Valentine. With an incline of his head Aten snapped the cord his will enforcing his the force. Rising and pushing his back to the wall. “No more fighting, he needs help. That potion won’t heal him completely, he needs actual medical treatment!” Aten had enough, this had gone too far, one on the verge of dying and he’d lost his own arm. This was too high a price to pay, there may be some Jedi out there whom could commit such an act without could feeling guilt or remorse, not Aten. It was worse than the wound. Yes, Aten could justify it with the hunters trying to kill or capture him, but that wasn’t the way of the Jedi. “No more…”

[member="Julian Valentine"], [member="Koda Fett"]
 
TARIS
CANTINA
And so, Julian Valentine was dying. Blood filling up in his lungs, soon to drown in an ironic twist of fate as the waters of life caused his death. The Mandalorian, whilst caught off guard from such events, was not concerned. In the eyes of Fett, indifference was key. You could not trust, you could not care, for they were only ever distractions that impeded efficiency. Perhaps this stripped Fett of his humanity, turning him into nothing more than a robotic machine designed to do nothing but kill, or it was his humanity that thrust such a line of thought into his mind. Either way, it hardly mattered. Koda Fett was more than willing to let Julian Valentine die in an alleyway behind a Cantina in the lower-levels of Taris; struggling to breath. Whether he drowned or simply ran out of air was uncertain.

That only ever lessened the amount of competent competition.

That telekinetic fist careened through the air, invisible to the eyes of the Mandalorian who didn't quite have enough time to avoid such a thing. It detonated upon his armoured chest, the beskar shielding his internal figure as the ceramic plates beneath dampened the kinetic energy. As a result of such protective gear, Fett merely grinded across the pavement. However, his form was tensed in it's entirety, and even then there was the struggle against the mystical power. A grunt escaped the Bounty Hunter as it struck him, feeling a pressure upon his chest region that soon began to fade.

​It was with a quirked brow that Koda watched the Padawan spring into regretful action. A potion that healed his own potentially lethal wound to a certain extent before attempting to thrust some ailment upon Valentine.

"No more." Fett's harsh, muffled, and synthesised voice cut through the silence that seemed to suddenly exist. His right arm, the one that wielded the Blaster Carbine, snapped upwards in a rapid motion. It's setting remained on stun, and the trigger found itself being pulled at what appeared to be point-blank range in the direction of Aten's skull. The intention, of course, was to take this Jedi alive. If such actions persisted, lethality was sure to be preferable.

Death is nothing but the next chapter.

[member="Aten Ramses"] - [member="Julian Valentine"]
 

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