Trull Ordo
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Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
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Post by Trull Ordo on Jan 1, 2014 21:59:26 GMT -8
Ori'vod Is Watching (Over) You- Principal Authors: Trull Ordo & Velia Tiresia
- Who can post on this thread: Trull Ordo, Velia Tiresia, & any others approved
- I want to receive critical responses: Yes
- I will be using standard Universe rules here (e.g., canon-only, fleet limits, etc.): Ehhhhh...
Location: Nar Shaddaa Timeframe: Irrelevant "It's all there." "I know." "I know better than to cheat you." "I know." "What happened to the last guy who tried it? Found his pieces in a pile, yeah?" Ornik ignored the last question and turned for the door, hefting the metal cashbox in his left hand. Sweating a downpour over his clothes, his former employer - a Rodian merchant who had needed a favor regarding some competition - moved as if to follow him. Ornik heard the movement, and wheeled to aim his blaster at the bug. Instantly, the merchant's three bodyguards aimed their carbines, though they looked none too sure of the odds. The Rodian held up his hands, terror evident. Ornik had dealt with him before, and somehow the Mandalorian still made him as nervous as he had the first day they'd met. Ornik found that to be almost enjoyable. "Please! No trouble! Just... you sure you don't want a job?" Ornik rolled his eyes and put the gun away. "You keep taking my jobs, you take my money - why not work for me?" Because then I'd be taking your orders, too, thought Ornik, and that's more trouble than it's worth. "You know how to contact me," he said as he left. The door closed behind him, and he stepped out into the hallway. The Rodian had some brains, it was true. Rather than a bar or in his shop, Teedee had centered his black market dealings out of a unassuming apartment in a complex distant from anything connected to him. If he made it a few years, he might actually become a player in this part of town. He'd have to grow some balls first, though. The Mandalorian sniffed, turned, and left the building, walking with the dull precision of stoic habit. Take a job, do the job, get paid, go have a drink, then sleep and find a new job. Meals in the gaps between, where he could find them. Within half an hour, he was seated on a stool at the bar. His helmet sat carefully on the bar next to him, staring at the bartender. Next to it, with the lid cracked open, was the cashbox, and on the other side of that was one of Ornik's knives, driven point-first into the bar as a statement: touch the money at your own risk. In front of him stood a bottle of tihaar and a shot glass, which he had just drained and was filling for the third time, just like every job. He would finish this drink, pay his tab, and leave, just like every other job. In the two seconds it took for him to drain the glass, something caught his eye. The door behind the bar swung open. By sheer luck, a second door was open behind it, and beyond that, a third door. The coincidence of the three doors wasn't what caught his eye, however. He saw a small, compact figure in the very back room of the bar, staring down a Quara behind a desk and flanked by several burly and menacing figures. Ornik noticed one other detail right before the doors all slammed shut, however: the small figure was wearing Mando armor. One armored hand pulverized the glass against the bar as Ornik stood and donned his helmet, retrieving his knife and the cashbox. Leaving a few credits on the bar, he pushed past the protesting bartender and through the back door. Whoever the Mando was, they were in danger, and that made the situation simple. As he normally did when in the city, Ornik had left his beskad and his rifle in the locker of his apartment. He swung the cashbox against the lock of the second door, bashing the lock and kicking it open. His right hand hovered at the grip of his DeathHammer. The third door was a locked blastdoor, guarded by a muscular Togorian. The cat aimed a carbine and barked a warning to retreat. Without breaking stride, Ornik drew his DeathHammer and kicked the cat's weapon aside, pressing the muzzle of his weapon against the cat's own muzzle. "The door," he rumbled tonelessly. Not that Ornik needed the Togorian; he'd already noticed the keycard hanging on his lanyard. That meant that when the cat snarled and tried to attack, Ornik didn't hesitate. The blaster thundered and the Togorian dropped dead at the Mandalorian's feet. He then stepped to one side of the door and waited. Sure enough, it hissed open, and a Trandoshan stepped out. Ornik didn't like the lizards anyway. The cashbox swung in a vicious uppercut, crunching into the creature's jaw and knocking him back into the room. Ornik rounded the corner and came into the room, shooting the Trandoshan dead with two blasts to the chest. Sure enough, the biggest of the Weequay was holding the other Mandalorian's arms in a tight lock. Ornik realized that it was a female, maybe a teenager, judging by the size and the shape of the armor. Somehow that made him more resolved to kill these criminals. Not because they were criminals, of course: Ornik was a killer for hire, he was as much a criminal as the rest, but this was an issue of vode. For a moment, everything was still in the room. Ornik counted the Quara behind the desk, clutching a blaster pistol, three Weequay armed with blasters and vibroblades, a fourth that was still restraining the girl, and his HUD noticed an automated blaster hidden in a small alcove above the door, right above and behind him. Clever, he admitted grudgingly. "Ornik," the Quara gasped, and Ornik realized they had done business together before now. "What in the hells are you doing here?!" "Let her go now," Ornik said without a hint of emotion. "One chance." "Come on, Vilka," the Quara said with a nervous smile, "we're old partners." At the same time, the Weequay holding the girl began to drag her towards another door. "That's why you had a chance," Ornik said in that same tone. What came next was as easy as breathing for the Mandalorian. He shot the biggest Weequay twice in the head, freeing the girl, then spun around and, kneeling, shot the turret. As it sparked and blaster shots from the Quara and one of the Weequay flew past him, Ornik tracked his DeathHammer down and put two shots into the nearest Weequay. The other two, armed with vibroswords, were charging. Ornik was still holding the cashbox in his left hand. He swung it up and into the first one's fingers, knocking the weapon from his grasp and leaving him shrieking, cradling his crushed digits. Ornik leaned his head to one side and dodged the other strike, swinging his pistol back and firing twice more, point-blank, into the last Weequay's back. As it collapsed, Ornik felt the hot impact of three shots hit his armorweave and shoulder plates. The Quara had shot him in the side, and Ornik knew automatically he'd need to attend to the burns as soon as he could. The shoulder plate had negated one shot, but the armorweave over his ribs could only soak up so much of the heat from the other two. Staggering and wheeling, Ornik threw the cashbox from his left hand. it clouted the Quara across his face, and he howled in pain - just before Ornik put three shots on his chest, then holstered his weapon. Wincing from the pain, Ornik gingerly stepped to the corpse and retrieved his payout, then glanced at the desk. A safe was tucked into the right-hand side. Ornik glanced at the girl, sitting on the floor. "Are you stable?" |
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Post by Velia Tiresian on Jan 2, 2014 11:43:00 GMT -8
"Stable enough." The voice through the helmet was shaky, but quickly regained its measured calmness. "Thank you."
Without pausing to look at Ornik, she picked herself up and walked to the table where the safe lay. Sliding one hand smoothly across the table, and then downwards to find the safe underneath, she pulled it towards herself and deftly entered a series of numbers. It opened, and she drew out a sizable stack of credits, placing them on the table.
“Please accept these for your pains – they should be enough to repair any damage to you and to your armor.”
She moved swiftly to the corner of the room, where a long staff had been tossed carelessly on the ground. Picking it up, she hurried towards the door.
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Trull Ordo
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Posts: 94
Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
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Post by Trull Ordo on Jan 5, 2014 21:55:36 GMT -8
"You're an idiot." Ornik made no move to follow the girl, but simply set his cashbox on the desk and cracked open the lid, wincing slightly at the pressure exerted on his injured side. He scooped in the stacks that she had left for him, slamming the box shut and locking it again. He said nothing more, ignoring the girl as he drew his Death Hammer again and checked it. About half a charge left; probably enough to deal with whatever else might be coming. Ornik wouldn't count on more than half a dozen more thugs in the immediate vicinity, and he'd faced steeper odds, but he had learned early in his career that even one opponent was always a threat to be taken seriously. He still had the scars from that Trandoshan's knife. His side throbbed with fire. Maybe I should get one of those energy shields.
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Post by Velia Tiresian on Jan 5, 2014 22:41:50 GMT -8
The girl stopped, one hand on the door. It wasn't in response to Ornik's insult - she had paused a few seconds too late for that, and her posture indicated alarm rather than offense.
"They're outside...I can hear them." She turned around to face him. "What do you want to do?"
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Trull Ordo
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Posts: 94
Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Trull Ordo on Jan 5, 2014 23:03:49 GMT -8
Ornik sniffed inside his helmet, looking at Velia blankly for a moment. He stood slowly and pressed a hand to his side, hissing his breath and feeling the rush of adrenaline from the pain. What do I want to do? What kind of question is that? Still holding his Death Hammer, Ornik retrieved the cashbox and stepped to the door. He towered over the girl, looking down at her, implacable behind his helm. He glanced at the door and simply said, "Kill them all and go patch up these burns."
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Post by Velia Tiresian on Jan 6, 2014 21:08:05 GMT -8
"Sounds like a plan." She flipped the staff once, twice, three times in her hands, causing its ends to crackle with energy. "I'll take the first few." She backed herself against the wall by the door, her staff silent again.
They could hear a door swing open somewhere in the distance. Then a second door, nearer to them. The girl nodded with the sounds, as if they corresponded to beats in a music only she could hear. Both hands raised the staff above her head like a sword, one hand several inches in front of the other, until it hung almost parallel with the ground below. One foot swept a slow circle on the ground until it was behind the other one, bent slightly in a ready stance.
The door barely had time to swing open before the staff was cracking down upon the unprotected skull of the Weequay who had the misfortune of entering first. There was a fizzing noise, and the alien dropped to the floor, smoke rising from his singed head.
The door was now propped open by the doorstop that was the Weequay's unconscious body. The girl ran lightly over it to the other side of the door, and then, with a good kick, moved the body out of the way. The door swung closed, with only Ornik and the unconscious Weequay inside. He'd be able to take care of it, she was sure.
Once outside the room, she scanned the hallway for escape routes, but each of the other four doors adjacent to the hall led only to other meeting rooms. The others would wonder where their friend had gone - if she didn't leave quickly, she'd be dead. Only thing left to do was go through the door she knew would lead her through one more hallway, and then the bar itself.
No one was in the next hallway yet, so she quickly ran in. Again, the adjacent doors led only to meeting rooms. If she could lose herself among the other patrons of the bar...
A noise. Shouts. "Where'd he go?" She knew that voice, calm, cold, yet carrying over the hubbub of the bar. His voice made her stomach twist.
"He went in a minute or two ago." A different voice, rougher, protesting.
"Well, he hasn't come out, has he?"
A pause. Then he spoke again.
"You know what her kind are capable of, so what do you think may have happened?"
Again, no response frm the second voice. The first raised itself in volume and barely-concealed wrath. "So go in and get her! All of you!"
They were headed her way. She knew that if she hid to the side until they passed, she might have a chance of making it out without him seeing her. She flattened herself in an alcove, and watched as one, two, three, four hulking figures of various races stomped past her. Once they were past her, she stepped out, preparing to go through the doorway from which they had just entered.
One hand on the door, she paused, remembering the wounded man still in the back room, the unconscious Weequay his only companion. Father would not have approved of this.
She groaned inwardly, and ran after the receding back of the last figure, hoping that she and the stranger were up to the task.
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Trull Ordo
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Posts: 94
Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
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Post by Trull Ordo on Jan 6, 2014 23:07:18 GMT -8
Ornik had twisted a smile when she brained the Weequay, keeping to one side as he fell, poleaxed. She was scurrying away immediately, leaving Ornik standing by the door. She's got some spunk, I'll give her that. Ornik swung the cashbox twice, crushing the creature's throat and leaving it to gurgle its life away. Needs to learn to finish what she starts, though.
The black-clad Mandalorian slid through the door, still holding his Death Hammer in his right hand and the cashbox in the other. There was only really one way for the girl to have gone, and that was certain to be the most dangerous. No enemies were yet in sight, but he aimed his weapon anyway. He'd be ready for them, and they would almost certainly not be ready for him. Few ever were.
Ornik was almost to the second door when it burst open and he was confronted by a burly man carrying a blaster carbine. He hesitated at seeing Ornik: tall, thick, wearing black armor, and pointing a large blaster right at him. His hesitation cost him dearly, and he went down with two smoking black marks on his chest. The man behind him, however, had no such reservations, and he was the more dangerous: a Wookiee, carrying a bowcaster. The beast bulled past the fallen man and fired his weapon. Swearing, Ornik spun aside when he saw the weapon leveling, and took the green bolt on his right forearm. The bracer took most of the blast, but the impact knocked his blaster away. Ornik growled. His spin had put him behind some storage shelves momentarily, but remaining stationary right now, even behind cover, would get him killed. The Mandalorian drew the knife from his hip as he swung back out, leading with the weighty cashbox. The metal box crashed into the Wookiee's weapon, and Ornik barreled into him.
He had to move quickly, before the other men could get shots in, and Wookiees were powerful creatures. Ornik had seen 'small' Wookiees that could throw him across a room. Therefore, when he closed with the beast, he closed with knife flashing. His armored head cracked up and forward into the Wookiee's face with his charge. His left arm, swinging the cashbox again, hooked around its neck and drew it in close - right into Ornik's waiting knife. The Mandalorian thrust one, two, three, four, five, six times, savagely rushing the creature and stabbing for its gut each time. Howling in agony, the creature toppled and convulsed as it tried to stop the blood streaming from its stomach. Bearing it down the whole way, Ornik finished with two vicious slashes for its neck and wheeled. Another man was aiming his carbine. Some part of Ornik realized that he had heard the two missed shots fly past his head. Before the weapon could come to bear, he hurled the cashbox and caught the man in the hands. He swore and staggered back through the doorway, blocking it momentarily.
With the instant's reprieve, Ornik scrambled to his feet - ignoring the lancing pain in his side - and staggered to the door. It was a door of an older design, mounted on swinging hinges and meant to open in either direction. A thunderous kick from his booted foot knocked it wide open and into the men behind, sending them sprawling further and giving Ornik more time. With a flick of his wrist, he wiped his knife on the armorweave at his thigh and sheathed it as he turned and picked up his DeathHammer. The weapon was still functioning, which was good: Ornik had put some work into it, and would have been severely annoyed to have to buy a new one or rebuild the old one. The Mandalorian spun on his heel, aiming for the enemies he expected to find.
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Post by Velia Tiresian on Jan 11, 2014 18:36:03 GMT -8
The girl had heard the commotion in the other hallway, and realized that the man must have had ideas of his own. So much for the rescue mission. The noise was uncomfortably loud, though, and already she could see the two remaining men hurry to get through the door to worsen the odds on the other side. And there were still others, in the bar, that she was more desperate to avoid.
Stealth was not one of her new friend’s stronger points, apparently. Thankfully, it was hers, and she was nearer to the bar.
There was only one man in her hallway now, a burly figure with one hairy hand already on the door. Using her staff like a pole, she took two steps towards him, dug one end into the ground, and vaulted, ducking to avoid the ceiling. At the apex of her leap, one hand was reaching into her left boot for a small dagger, and as soon as the short distance between them had been closed by gravity and momentum, she had pounced on him and slit his throat before he had a chance to cry out.
The door chose that unfortunate moment to swing open towards them, knocking them both backwards. The body, now tilted backwards, was slowly tipping over towards the ground. As the girl leapt off his back and away from the falling body, she realized that the man’s huge frame crashing into the ground would be audible from outside. Before he could fall any further, and thus make her task even harder than it had to be, she pushed off the ground with her staff and delivered a flying kick straight into the center of his back, sending him in the opposite direction, towards whoever had so inconsiderately come through the door.
She heard a very loud curse as the body fell onto the man in front of it, and hoped that the sound would blend into the general bar noise. The burly figure hadn’t fallen over completely – the man underneath was still standing, albeit a bit crouched, and struggling to shove the body off of himself. The girl moved in to make it two bodies struggling with nothing but gravity, but before she could the door swung open, and she flattened herself against the wall as the two were sent crashing to the ground.
It was a tremendous noise. She wanted to kill the Mandalorian for his carelessness, but part of her knew that he couldn’t have known when he came through the door. Another part of her had, in the meantime, pulled the matching dagger out of her right boot to slash the stunned man across the neck, to match the body lying beneath him.
“They’ll have heard that – we need to go before the whole party comes down on us,” she said, not caring to filter out the irritation in her voice.
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Trull Ordo
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Affiliation: The Mandalorian Empire
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Post by Trull Ordo on Feb 2, 2014 14:16:20 GMT -8
Ornik slowly lowered his weapon, looking at his new 'friend' with new eyes. Fierce, and decently dangerous. Working on the efficiency. Not bad. He turned and retrieved the cashbox from where it had fallen, now battered, dented, and scuffed. The towering Mandalorian straightened and holstered his blaster.
"If they do, after hearing that," he said flatly, "they're suicidal or stupid." Ornik drew his Ripper, the gleaming weapon hanging from his right hand like a gavel. "We shouldn't have much more trouble." He paused, looking down at the girl, before he stepped past her and towards the final door into the bar proper. They'll be waiting for me - us. He'd never been a man for much speaking, but right now the thought crossed his mind to tell everybody in that bar exactly why they ought to fuck off and how far they ought to do it before he came through that door.
Ornik had never been eloquent, though.
With a twitch of his eye, he switched his HUD to thermal display, and scanned the room. Sure enough, there were half a dozen men with waiting weapons, just itching to be the ones who could say that they had killed a pair of Mandalorians. Ornik found himself surprisingly incensed by that notion. You puny shits are beneath me. You don't have a chance, or a clue. You're going to die and run crying, like the rest. With robotic detachment, Ornik lifted his Ripper and sighted on the heat signatures through the thin metal door. His trigger finger squeezed three times, and three bodies crumpled and started cooling. He realized the roar from his pistol was probably deafening, but he'd blanked it out somehow.
"Now," came his processed voice, loud enough to be heard out in the bar, "you out there: either run or keep dying." He watched them scramble for the door, and stepped outside. "Grab the tihaar, girl. I'll need it."
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