Razmir smiled as the ambush unfolded with exquisite timing. The immediate effects were devastating.
Screams of pain intermingled with those of terror in the opening salvo. Blackened and broken bodies hit the floor, smoking where blaster fire riddled their bodies with hot-burning plasma. Those unlucky few to eat high-flying shrapnel lurched about for aid, only to stumble uselessly about, disoriented in the wake of the the still-popping flash bangs. Poison soon flooded their lungs as they called out for help, terror-stricken and desperate from the brutal shock-and-awe of the ambush, they could do little else than clutch at their throats as they coughed bloody phlegm into the duracrete.
The Black Sun's enforcers didn't relent in their onslaught. They smelled blood, and it only served to hone their instincts to kill. All of them were well versed in the art.
Blaster fire continued to rain down, even as more threats to the Jedi revealed themselves, courtesy of the ingenuity of Black Sun's best.
Several dozen warehouse 5th-degree units,
ASP-series labor droids,
Binary loadlifters,
MSE-6 series droids and
GNK series droids all came to life. Shambling from shadows, their restraining bolts long overridden. They moved erratically, some still trying to stack crates or greet the intruders as was there protocol. The jedi strike team would all hear the same message from the droids that followed them or passed them by.
"Alert. Alert. Nonessential personnel detected. Please vacate the area. This unit is not authorized for life preservation protocols. Reminder: You are currently obstructing a high-priority logistics operation. Failure to comply will result in demerits, report filings, and possible dismemberment. Local law enforcement has been notified! Have a marginal day!"
The machines rolled out from every nook and cranny of the warehouse. They converged on the Jedi, adding even more threats amid the overwhelming tide of death. Razmir had no doubt that V1 would earn his paycheck and more this day. He had to admit he was impressed somewhat impressed, too.
An ethereal bell chimed through the warehouse, centered where the silver-blue blade burned like star light at the head of the ambush.
Razmir sneered at the sound. The silver-white glow was easy to pick out through the toxic green clouds of the dioxis. Despite the devastating opening salvo the Jedi were still alive. Those who'd advanced deepest into the warehouse were stuck in the most difficult of positions. It would have served them well to throw down their arms and surrender to their fates, and yet they continued to struggle. That had always struck Razmir as curious about the Jedi. That tenacity and hope, even in the face of certain death.
He supposed their display wouldn't much matter, soon enough. This warehouse would be a graveyard and a monument to their prideful conceit.
"You nerf herdin' sonnuva!" His blaster whipped into line with where the shot came from, releasing a disruptor shot back towards their location out of instinct.
Ah, Damien was already on the task. Splendid.
Razmir had not seen much in the spacer at first, but that was before he'd learned of his connection to galactic history. Damien, the son of Auteme Denko-Durren, was close friends with Kyric, the son of Ryv Karis. People with sway and influence in the grand scheme of things, and people who Razmir had plans for.
Razmir watched Damien as he dodged a High Republic soldier's assault. The kid was tough and had luck on his side. Razmir had the utmost confidence he would deal with that nuisance.
Though he better do it quick. The grapevine had leaked that Kyric may be on the mission to this warehouse tonight, and Razmir didn't intend to keep these blood-brothers apart for too long. He simply had to wait for the right timing and--
Rik poured the Force into it. The durasteel panel groaned, screeched sharply, and shattered, blasting inward, rocking the end of a shelving unit on one side, threatening to topple it, and slicing into some crates on the other, displacing them by a foot or two, and spilling their contents. He then stepped out of the way of the opening, letting green gas and stray blaster bolts meet the wall of rain, and looked at Rosh. Then pulled a cold, wet hilt into his hand.
"I will go check that one out, buddy." Addressing Razmir Tezhyn as if he was her dear childhood friend. Then she moved to pat him on the head if he didn't move away fast enough. "Just sit tight, don't let your pretty face get hurt, yeah?"
Mercy's hand caught him while he was still focused on the spacer kid. He cast a sharp glance toward her. She may be strong, but she was still a bottom feeder at another Vigo's table. She dared treat him like
this? During his own operation? He followed her with cold eyes.
"Ka'arel? I have a special mission for you," Razmir said to one of the thugs waiting on the sidelines.
"Do you see that woman?" He pointed to Mercy. "Make yourself useful and give her a hand with those Jedi, hm?"
"Of course, sir, Tezhyn, sir," Ka'arel stammered, struggling to pull free the blaster pistol in his belt.
"Don't bother with that, here," Razmir pulled a
vial⁽¹⁾ from his pocket and handed it to Ka'arel. "Toss this at them when you're close-by? Come back to me as soon as you do, and describe what happened. Mercy and I are counting on you."
Ka'arel wasn't particularly competent. In truth, the only reason he was still around was his boundless naivete which kept him from questioning the things he was being told to do. Chances were Ka'arel would never make it back. If he did, he wouldn't be long for the world anyways.
Ka'arel accepted the vial, then stormed off to join
Mercy
against
Rik Perris
and
Sera Rosh
.
More pressing matters required Razmir's attention. The Jedi strike team had been decimated, but some hold outs still existed. The one by the doors proved to be among the more interesting ones. Sal's rifle shot had made the entire warehouse light up, and Razmir was curious to see if anything had survived his opening salvo.
On account of Sal squeezin' the trigger of his rifle gently, gently, 'til it spat out a particle beam so bright and huge that it lit up the warehouse floor for a moment as it ripped across the distance. Meant for putting big holes in tanks, Sal found it was also great for putting big holes in people too.
And then it hit...right where Balun had just been standing. No more than a meter and a half from the Sal-Soren. The concussive blast threw Brandyn through the air, back colliding against the crate right behind where his squad was still attempting to regain their footing. His lightsaber clattered to the ground just beyond his reach...
...everything went black for just a moment. Until the noise broke through, a loud rip in the side of the warehouse thanks to Jedi compatriots gave him hope. But as his vision returned, he looked at the professionally stressed faces of the RIS agents, and those of Balun and Cerys.
We are going to die here.
She stepped forward, hands outstretched, and pushed. The Force bent the fire around them. "I've got this," she yelled at Balun, "but can you take care of them!"
Three servo-droids burst through the fire, razor-wire whips spinning overhead. They did not appear intent on slowing.
Xeykard didn't smile, but in that moment, he came close. A glint of terrible joy was in his eyes, and suddenly he was upon the Togruta, dread spoken through each step, and his lightclub swung up viciously to break her guard -- and then, his clawed cybernetic hand, shooting forward in the same brutal motion that had
put her master's heart in his hand.
It turned out, some of the Jedi had survived.
They had their hands full with Fett and his boyfriend, and it seemed Xeykard the Sith had similar intent to cut down these stragglers. Razmir moved across the walkways to get a better look at the fight. His people seemed to have it handled, but some personal attention never hurt.
<Careful, Fett. You're facing a Jedi Councillor. I will pay you a nice bonus if you bring me his head. Double the usual if you bring him in alive.>
Razmir didn't recognize the other Jedi caught between flames and shrapnel. A togruta and two humans. They seemed close to Sal-Soren, however. A trait that made them targets that could be of use to Razmir. If they weren't among the Jedi in body bags at the end of this affair, he would make a note to study up on them.
One could never be too well informed.
The kiffar kept moving. The force propelled him higher across the collapsing shelve, only inches ahead of his gambit. He raced upward onto the highest shelf and peered through the muck, searching for even a single ally. A distant thrum was the first thing he noticed. He thought it a faint echo of errant blaster bolts thudding uselessly against the walls across the warehouse, but its constant pitch carried over the battlefield, and within seconds, he recognized it to be the sound of rainfall.
Spotting Talin a ways away on the rafters above, Kyric yanked his rebreather from his lips and stowed it quickly.
"Retreat and regroup!" the Jedi Knight howled over the battlefield. "Listen fer the rain! Let it guide ye to freedom!"
Razmir continued wandering high above in the privacy of the walkway farthest from the ground. Unfortunately, one of the Jedi seemed to want to intrude on his territory. That silver-white blade, he'd seen it earlier, but could only now connect it to a name
--Kyric.
Razmir smiled.
The Jedi was fleeing the chaos to rally the survivors. Raz followed the young man's gaze, and found one of the other survivors struggling among the rafters.
Razmir waved over an Aqualish with a rotary cannon. Jedi were hard to kill...but their friends?
"Kill that one," he said, pointing toward
Talin Treicolt
. "Then kill the Jedi."
"A single, palm-sized vial contained enough dragon's breath to kill three hundred Wookiees, though
Razmir Tezhyn
|
Kyric
|
Drystan Creed
|
V1-L8
|
Cerys Dyn
|
Brandyn Sal-Soren
|
Balun Dashiell
|
Koda Fett
