Atarangi
Member
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorians
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Post by Atarangi on Jul 18, 2015 16:31:34 GMT -8
The Verpine shot whipped past Atar and impacted the faceplate of the Death Watch close in front of him. A few small bits of shrapnel clicked against Atar's armour, but most of the explosive force was directed elsewhere, snapping back the head of the Death Watch Atar faced. It was the perfect opening, and Atar hit the man full force. His left hands went high, the lower one blocking a punch, while the upper one jabbed thick, heavy claws into the side of the Watch's neck. Atar's right hands both shot out offensively, one into the Watch's throat, and the other into his ribs, both stiff fingered jabs that drove claws through the toughened jumpsuit, and into flesh. Atar felt the faint tingle of the EMP pulse, and everything went as dark as it could be as what little lighting there was in the smoky, windowless cantina went dead.
The lights died, and Vector moved. She had waited patiently for just this opening, Part of a string of combat techniques she had practiced time and time again. She grabbed the hefty tube from the table in front of her and sprinted across the bar towards where the other members of the Death Watch were loitering about. It was obvious that most of them had lost any electronics, and in the near perfect darkness, they would be blind. With a faint metallic noise, a 40 centimetre beskar blade slid out of one end of the tube-like hilt that Vector had clutched in her hands. It was obvious that one of the nearer Death Watch was able to see at least to a limited degree when he stepped forward and slashed at her head with a heavy blade. Vector parried the blow, twisting her body so that she was alongside her attacker, facing him, and their crossed blades were extended past her left shoulder. Another faint noise accompanied the extension of the second blade, which punched through the side of the mans left knee. Stepping back and jerking her blade clear, Vector silenced his scream with a short chop across the throat.
With the lights dead, Atar grew even more dangerous. His HUD had flickered briefly - no electronics were truly immune to an EMP - but vision returned almost immediately. Beyond the electronic enhancement of his eyesight, Atar was naturally able to see infrared, and there was plenty to see by. His opponent staggering, Atar thrust two of his hands up under the Watch's helmet, claws tearing past the jumpsuit and into flesh once more. The second set of blows proved to be too much, and the man collapsed slowly towards the ground. Satisfied, Atar turned his attention towards the other foes, just in time to see Vector flawlessly execute another Watch member. From his angle, Atar couldn't properly use his pistols without hitting Vector, as his armaments lacked the precision of the Verpine weaponry his companion favoured. Instead, he drew all four of his beskar sabres, and began crossing the room purposefully.
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Shiro Altris
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Posts: 5 
Affiliation: Mandalorian
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Post by Shiro Altris on Jul 18, 2015 19:43:09 GMT -8
As Atar attacked the original target that had entered the door way Shiro knew he was done for. The explosion had opened him up to attack and melee range was not how you fought an Annoo-Dat Prime. Marking him as dead in his mind Shiro turns his attention to the other Death Watch across the room. The EMP had caused a skip in his HUD but even without it he was fine in combat. He could tell a few of the Death Watch did have upgraded tech because a few of the turned his way only a moment after the blast. As the EMP had went off though Shiro had grabbed a second type of grenade. The group of Death Watch members started opening fire. They all had energy weapons which for the most part would be no threat at all to Shiro in his beskar but he didn't want to risk one of the getting lucky so he threw a grenade in the middle of the. He knew Vector was in there but this grenade was no a lethal one and he knew that vector would know his tactics by now for what was to come. The grenade emitted a gas out of it, this gas was used to dissipate convention energy weapons. This made their weapons pack almost no punch. However it would do nothing to Shiro's Verpines. Drawing his second Verpine pistol he started firing with the one in his right hand as he drew with his left. The shots were aimed at the faces and necks of the Death Watch around the room. Firing with an accuracy that only came from life long battle and honed skills. The shots were meant more to distract the enemy and to buy time for Atar and Vector to close in.
Bringing his left hand to bear he started fire with it as well this clip was regular steel rounds, the Verpine was a rail gun type weapon and would launch them with almost no sound at an extremely lethal speed. His first shot caught his target dead in the throat going clean through. This caused blood to start flowing out quite dramatically as well as cause the other Death Watch members to scrabble for cover quickly. Shiro manages to kill one more with a clean head shot through the visor of another before the majority are behind cover. With a last shot he clips one more member in the shoulder that was a little slower getting to cover. Shiro himself ducks behind a table before the gas wears off and reloads both his weapons with regular clips putting the left one back in its holster and drawing one of his larger 12' knives ready for close quarters combat with a pistol in left hand knife in right.
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Atarangi
Member
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorians
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Post by Atarangi on Jul 18, 2015 20:34:47 GMT -8
As the Death Watch scrambled for cover, Atar approached from the side, and saw some sort of coordination occurring. Those Watch that carried heavier blaster rifle type weapons continued to fire at the location Shiro had chosen to go to ground. Their shots were thus far ineffective, but that wouldn't last long. The remaining members drew an assortment of blades, stun batons, and other melee weapons, moving from cover to cover in order to close with either himself or Vector. Atar sped up his pace, entering the main group of Death Watch at a jog. They came at him from all sides, and his roaring laughter echoed in the building as his blades flashed and spun. Faced with the number of foes surrounding him, many beings would have quickly fallen, but Atar used every trick to his advantage. As large as he was, there were few beings present who could match his reach, and none who could match his speed or strength. Truly ambidextrous, Atar was able to make use of all four of the finely wrought beskar blades he carried, blocking and slashing with each one individually. It had taken him years of practice to be able to master his dance of death, but now, all those years paid off. Blocking with both his blades, and the vambraces of his armour, Atar was able to launch counter-attacks, most of which glanced off of the equally tough armour of his opponents. A Stun baton connected with his side, but it wasn't tuned high enough for a being of his size, and a contemptuous sideways kick broke the leg of the offending Death Watch, and sent him slamming into the ground.
Under assault, but thankfully less so than her admittedly more skilled father, Vector flipped backwards to avoid the crushing embrace of a particularly persistent Death Watch. She darted her blade sideways, sliding it along the exposed elbow joints of a rifle toting Death Watch. Ignoring his scream as he dropped the rifle, Vector swung her blade high, parry the overhead slash of the first Death Watch. She used the longer hilt of her blade to provide the leverage she needed to turn the attack aside, and turned the momentum around, letting the attack push the blade on the other end upwards. A light touch was all that was needed to guide it under the ribs of the rifle carrying Death Watch. The blade caught for a moment, costing her, as the bes'kad of the first Death Watch rang off of her plates, sending her staggering. She recovered in time to parry the next attack, and counterattacked, beskar clashing against beskar as the blades of the two fighters clashed.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Jul 19, 2015 4:12:52 GMT -8
Bedrovelse Hevn had been seated quietly in the cantina, black cloaked, hood slung over his head. He was crunching numbers on a data pad, moving finances for the Hutt he needed to make a deal with. Weapons of the size and variety he required were rare to come by, and easier to find on the galactic black market.
All was fine and well until the bloody Mandalorians started having at each other like a family reunion. The Death Watch, judging by their armor, were clashing with a band of three sitting together. He was impressed by the speed at which the engagement took place. Blaster shots were tearing the cantina to pieces in a matter of seconds. Bodies clashing and tangled in an instant, while the numerous Death Watch began to take position.
He stood, putting his back to the nearest wall as the customers fled to give the beskar clad warriors their space to fight. Bedrovelse was not the sort to back down from a fight. He was stalled though, by the blast of the EMP.
He began to choke, lungs seizing as his breathing apparatus quit. The mask over his mouth was a self recycling air system that he required to survive on planets as hot and unforgiving as Tatooine.
As pain filled his rib cage, and the oxygen fled his brain he had to think quickly. His lungs writhed in their cavity, screaming for help. The tearing burn of suffocation gripped him almost too suddenly, if not for his training. He focused on the agony, forcing a breath of air that may as well have been sand down.
He coughed painfully, spitting on the ground. The noise in the cantina, and focus of the battle had thus far left him alone. Until now. Hevn seizes the pain, drawing the dark side of the force to his aura. One hand grabs the krayt dragon head lightsaber hilt at his belt, and the other rises to the cover of the Death Watch.
For now, he chose the outnumbered group. Working with them would ensure fewer enemies to deal with should they turn aggressive against him, provided he survived the fight.
As much pain as Hevn was in, it may as well have been a hurricane that rolled out from the palm of his hand. The tables and accumulating debris the Death Watch were hiding behind were thrown into the wall opposite the one he leaned on, Hevn standing at the flank of the fight. With nothing to protect them they rose weapons raised and blazing. Most were trained on the one who had thrown the EMP, others on the giant four armed beat making a mockery of their skill, but now the closer few looked at him. Hevn's raised hand twisted at the wrist, turning the neck of a Death Watch so violently it snapped, and he collapsed. Enraged the second started blasting. The mouth of the dragon snapped open, and from within screamed to life a pearl white lightsaber blade. Hevn pulls the lightsaber toward his body, focused on his own safety first. The bolts fly into his blade, ricocheting toward the ceiling and then back at the Death Watch firing at him. There was a pause in the fire as he strafed the reflected shot, giving Bedrovlese an opening. He rolled toward the bucket head, and sprung from the ground, extending his legs and blade to leave a burning streak across the chest and face of his beskar clad foe. Used to slicing men in half, the frustrated Bedrovlese drove the lightsaber down into the visor killing this enemy.
He fell to a knee. Choked in another harsh painful breath, and threw his saber at knee level toward the men firing. It whirled in a white circular streak across the cantina cutting a few at the back of the knees, and dropping them in loud groans. He had heard even hardened warriors scream at the strike of his blade, impressively enough, not the Death Watch. The saber came back to his hand and the spectacle of a force user in the battle was turning heads. The nature of whose enemy was whose was breaking the coordination of the Death Watch and dividing their attention.
His pale sapphire eyes trained on them. He drank in their suffering, drank in his own, and let the dark side thrive in him again. He focused on the heap of men on the floor holding their legs, and reaching for smaller weapons. He could sense their wounds, and with his mind he ripped them open wider. Now they were screaming and preoccupied with their pain.
Hevn felt his face tremble as the mask on his face restarted and fresh breath entered his lungs again. His lightsaber was useless against beskar. Hevn disengages his saber, the white light hissing in retreat. The cyborg rose to his full height, which was substantially shorter than that of his opposing force. Given the shape of one of the smaller Mandalorians, it was a female, and she was on her back foot being pressed by a Death Watch favoring his blade. With his cybernetic legs and arms, he was gifted with a substantial amount of strength for a humanoid. In a lunge he reached to his left hip, gripping the hilt of his sith sword Phantasmagoria. In a flash of steel and splash of blood Hevn beheads the Death Watch with a perfect slash to the neck, dropping the body with a thump and sending the head flying away to the left. He stared at the helmet of the Mandalorian briefly. His hood had fallen back now. A thin and youthful face looked at her. Eyes like ice that looked inside you, rather than at you, piercing. His shoulders were broad under his cloak, and steel grey hair swept over his face and down to the top of his neck. The sword was in his extended arm, blood dripping from the last third of it's edge where it had stuck without mercy. His teeth were clenched in effort, revealing a dark lower jaw, and prosthetic teeth, metallic in color.
He steps backward, crossing the katana over his chest preparing to defend.
"Not interested."
Hevn's cybernetics laced the dark jedi's voice with a mechanical tone, spoken quick and coolly. It was an arrogant choice of words, but spoken with urgency and a clear message. "Not the enemy here."
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Shiro Altris
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Posts: 5
Affiliation: Mandalorian
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Shiro Altris on Jul 22, 2015 14:52:30 GMT -8
Now pinned behind the table Shiro could hear the cracking of wood as bolt after bolt chipped into it. Thankfully it was holding for now but for how much longer he was unsure. Shiro had been occupied by the fight that until he dived for cover he did not notice the man in the corner of the bar who from body language was in a lot of pain. Shir cringed, not one to shy away from destruction nor violence he still didn't like involving others in his fights, he was still distressed when he say the man was mostly cyborg. He knew the EMP blast had probably messed with his circuits and were causing a lot of pain if not a possibility of death.
The thought that the man might die from it though passed quickly as the man than moved to attack, at first Shiro thought it was coming for him. Having fought many sith and jedi alike he was ready for the attack when he watched the muscles of the arm start to raise. However judging from his head position and posture he figured that the man was not after him but the Death Watch members.
Confused by this act Shiro paused wondering why the man chose them as the target when he was sure the man knew he threw the grenade. Maybe he knew who they were and hated them almost as much as the Mandalorians did, or perhaps it was something else entirely. Having sat stunned for a moment made Shiro to distracted and a bolt went through the table hitting Shiro's shoulder plate. The bolt packed a punch and knocked Shiro off balance for a moment. As he fell back he rolled his hands back and pushed off the ground turning the roll into a back flip into the air. Landing on his feet he focused his mind back on the action. The sith/jedi was now wadding a path of destruction through the Death Watch forces lightsaber in hand and sometimes thrown.
Deciding it was time he rejoined the fight Shiro charged the line himself quickly emptying his clip. Shiro was an expert gunslinger once a championin fact when he was younger but even still running caused shots that needed to be completely accurate to be slightly off. Out of his 50 shots fired in rapid succession only four targets fell to lethal rounds to the visor or neck. Quickly holstering the gun Shiro drew a second beskar dagger and jumped into the fray.
Using a combination of unarmed techniques and the daggers he quickly killed two more Mandalorians. To anyone with experience watching his martial art of the Echani would be quickly noticed as it was one of renown and fear among some species. One Death Watch member stood in front of him and spoke harshly from his buy'ce.
"Your no Mando you aruetii scum. Go back to your own planet chakaar."
Shiro was sued to being shunned by some of the Mandalorians. A lot of mando's were tolerant of your lineage and some times the mando belief that past was the past didn't always apply to some. Cin vhetin they called it but for force sensitives like jedi or certain races this was hard to do. Still Shiro had come to terms with it long ago and was no longer offended by such trivial things. Instead of replying he simply stepped forward quickly punching up under the mando's chin with an open palm with his right hand snapping the mans head up quickly. Then with a quick jab of the left hand broke his wind pipe. As the man grasped for air in pain Shiro let him sit in pain for a moment before sticking the knife under his arms armor in the armpit to finish him. He then faced the rest of the Death Watch and taunted them with his hand gesturing towards himself by curling his fingers in.
"Whose next hutunn?"
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Atarangi
Member
Posts: 6
Affiliation: Mandalorians
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Post by Atarangi on Jul 28, 2015 21:48:14 GMT -8
After a tense heartbeat, the sudden newcomer to the fight stepped back from Vector. With a soft sigh that would be inaudible past her helmet, Vector retracted one of the blades of her sword, and saluted briefly with the other. This man had, after all, stopped her attacker. With the sword still raised in front of her, Vector got a flash of...something, and acted. This wasn't the first time she had gotten such flashes of insight, and she had learned early on to trust them. With a faint squeak, Vector's boots slid outwards, and she dropped into a near perfect split. The Death Watch who had lunged at her from behind stumbled as his blade past harmlessly over her head. Then came the feeling Vector dreaded, the feeling so often associated with her short moments of clarity. A bubbling, searing pain rose in her mind, and she screamed. Twisting forward awkwardly from her lowered position, she clutched at her helmet as everything went dark.
Unbeknownst to Vector, the pain had a secondary effect. Before he could react to his suddenly shorter target, her assailant found himself bodily lifted into the air by nothing, and flung almost casually across the cantina.
Atarangi heard the scream that ripped itself from Vector's throat, and made note of the oddly airborne individual. Not many Death Watch still remained near the Anoo-Dat, most having been brought low, and several having fled, most of themto engage the other fighters. A lashing tail drove the long spiked tip into the joints of one of the last Death Watch still standing near him, and the rest that had dared face the larger Mandalorian fled as he roared and charged. One of them was slower getting out of the way, and Atarangi bodily snatched him up. Muscles bunched in his arms and shoulders as Atar twisted and pulled. The joints along one of the unlucky individuals arms popped, separating shoulder, elbow, and wrist in a single violent motion. Atar shoved the man aside, rushing instead towards Vector. As he had kept a watch on her during the battle, he was aware that the man close to her wasn't the one who had caused her this distress. In fact, Atar had seen such things before. Ever since she was little, Vector had been prone to sudden visions, usually detailing events that were just about to happen. Acting on them had saved his daughter before, but the sights always came with a price. As he barreled forwards, Atar sheathed his blades, partially to show a less hostile intent to the man near Vector, but also so that he could more quickly assist the girl. Atar disregarded any remaining Death Watch, intent on only reach his target.
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Post by Bedrovelse Hevn on Jul 28, 2015 23:53:23 GMT -8
Bedrovelse nods to the female's salute, and backs away slowly. Her split second dodge was impressive, as was her touch of the force. Hevn feels her aura surge, lifting her assailants body and smashing it. He understood then, that she was likely an outcast if she was sensitive. A large armored figure with arms and blades was approaching fast, and clearing everything in front of him. Her screams drew him like a moth to flame and he ignored all else.
He keeps the pair to his right, and surveys the room. He catches the flash of a rising blaster from the shadows and extends his arm, twisting at the wrist. The crack of a snapped neck followed the collapsing body. Finding his next target, he grips the grenade at the Death Watches leg holster, activating it and blowing him to pieces with a shout and bang. He leaps over a table, sweeping his leg to trip one and stabbing another through the visor with his sword. Hevn grabs the fallen man with his prosthetic hands and slams his helmet against the floor until he's as sure as can be, the eggs are scrambled.
The sound of a jump pack caught him by surprise. Hevn turned as fast as he could to find the Death Watch already swinging, a beskar gauntlet slamming into his face and throwing him into the wall. The impact was immense, shaking the cantina and cracking the wall as Bedrovelse slid to the floor. The Death Watch raises his arm to fire a rocket.
Hevn pulls the force around him like a blanket. Armoring his body with the rage of being bested. His pride roars with darkness and burns his flesh like embers.
The explosion washed over Hevn like a mist. He covers his face to shield his eyes from smoke and debris. The force of the blast shakes him like a tug in a deep sleep, and the fire was no warmer than a woman coiled up with him in bed. The sound was dampened by his powers, and he knew to release it as soon as the crackling sound stopped.
Hevn blitzed out of the smoke with blade raised to slice the hand off of aiming Death Watch. With the second step he ran the blade through the man's stomach and lifted him over his head. Hevn's free arm digs into the sword wound, gripping his spine, and with all his might breaks the living man in half. He slices with his sword, and squeezes the bone to crack it. The blood lands in a sloppy pool as Bedrovelse throws a torso to one side, and the pelvis to the other.
A mechanical growl of intense hated emanates from behind his lips as he searches for the next target.
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Post by MaxineMorganian on Sept 9, 2015 13:15:47 GMT -8
*In the darkest corner of the Cantina Maxine Morganian was sitting down, looking around cautiously looking for imperials, she kept checking to make sure her light sabers were hidden*
"I can't get caught or I will never save my family from the Imperial scum, I will kill them all if I have to, even though I relish the thought"
*Maxine quickly sinks into the shadows as a Imperial walks into the bar, she uses the force to unhook one of her lightsabers from her belt, she waits for what is to come.*
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Bloodrage Pirates
Member
Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!
Posts: 758
Affiliation: Piracy
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Bloodrage Pirates on Sept 9, 2015 14:10:21 GMT -8
Siver, one of the Bloodrage gang leaders in the city, sat across from the bar with three of his thugs. It would have been strange in anywhere apart from Tatooine for an Echani, a Wookiee, a human and a Rodian to be seated together. However here they were looking over distastefully at the Imperial who had just walked in. Siver decided that this man seemed to be alone and chose to make his move. The Echani walked over and tapped the Imperial on the shoulder.
"OI! Mate? We don't appreciate the likes of you 'round these parts! Especiall not stinking up our cantina. How about you take a long walk outta 'ere? You feel me?"
He gesticulated wildly as he spoke and everyone in the cantina could see his blaster holstered on his right thigh. His cronies backed up his words with cheers after he had finished, everyone knew what that meant and some were trying to ease themselves towards the exit. Rightly so thought Siver!
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Post by MaxineMorganian on Sept 9, 2015 14:27:12 GMT -8
Maxine looks at the Echani as she gets up and drops her cloak from her body and pulls her lightsabers to hasten the process of people leaving. She then walked over to the Echani and his thugs putting away her lightsabers.
"I know you didn't do that to help me but I appreciate you stepping in and was wondering if you would possibly have a ship and crew for hire or a price to get me somewhere?"
Maxine waited for the Echani to answer her. She was still on guard knowing that Echani's were not the most kindhearted race in the universe but had hopes.
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Bloodrage Pirates
Member
Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!
Posts: 758
Affiliation: Piracy
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Bloodrage Pirates on Sept 9, 2015 15:35:35 GMT -8
Siver laughed as the Imperial scum scampered from the cantina with his metaphorical tail between his legs. He liked bullying the spineless types, always very satisfying. In his moment of laughter his eyes were drawn to a young girl moving in his direction. he briefly stopped laughing to look her up and down. His had to try very hard not to let his eyes linger on the lightsaber and just take it in his stride. He smiled at the girl as she spoke.
"Oh my dear, for the right price I can take you anywhere! Have a seat with my friends and I and we can discuss it over a drink. Barkeep!"
Siver rudely waved at the member of staff behind the cantina bar who hurried around to their table with some more cups of ale. The Echani offered his own seat to Maxine and took another one to sit next to her.
"Now then my dear, have a drink and tell me all about it!"
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Post by MaxineMorganian on Sept 9, 2015 15:55:41 GMT -8
Maxine smiled softly at the Echani blushing very slightly. She sat down in the seat the Echani had motioned her towards.
"Well you see, I am one of the last warrior of the Morganians my family was taken from me when I was thirteen. When I became 18 I bought a ship and got it to here which is where the imperial scouting ship found me. So I fled to the surface and knew of this place so came here in hopes of escaping, but he followed me here and I would have been caught by him had you not stepped in. I thank you for that and you kindness."
Maxine looked around after she said this and then took out a card and used the machine grabbing fifty thousand credits walking back to the Echani and hand him twenty five thousand credits.
'I will give you twenty five thousand now and the rest when I am safely back here from our visit from Kashyyyk."
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Bloodrage Pirates
Member
Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me!
Posts: 758
Affiliation: Piracy
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Bloodrage Pirates on Sept 10, 2015 8:36:12 GMT -8
Siver's eyes almost popped out of his skull when he saw that much money. Then she just gave him half of it, before he'd even done anything! The Echani had planned to get the girl drunk and then rob her. Lightsabers fetch a pretty price on the blac market.
"Kid!? if you want to get to Kashyyyk that badly, we'll get you there. Come on lads, lets go get ourselves a ship!"
The rest of the gang had also seen the credits and were all in for the trip. For that much money the girl could have bought her own ship but maybe she couldn't pilot it. They all got up and followed Siver outside, taking their drinks with them, much to the annoyance of the barkeep!
"We'll have to get a speeder to Mos Entha but we have a ship in a spaceport there and we can get you off-world."
The Pirate spoke as the group turned left when leaving the cantina, heading in the direction of a few parked speeders at the end of the road.
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Post by MaxineMorganian on Sept 10, 2015 8:43:04 GMT -8
Maxine had known the likeliness of the Echani being this nice so she added the extra money and followed the Echani
I'm not a kid and I suggest if you want to keep your hands that you not try to steal anything from me"
Maxine followed the pirate and hoped that she would actually get to Kashyyyk in one piece
"So were you born into piracy or did you just decide to become one?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2016 23:48:02 GMT -8
Shoulders hunched, her hands stuffed casually into the side pockets of a baggy olive hued jacket that looks as though it has seen better days, Kaiya enters the lobby of Chalmun's with what she believes to be the perfect combination of weariness and wariness one would expect of a knowledgeable visitor to Mos Eisley. A few heads turn as, after unwinding the scarf worn over her head and mouth before brushing the sand from her shoulders, Kaiya approaches the cantina's central U-shaped bar and orders an ale, but the gazes soon shift away; the young woman's appearance and demeanor inciting little curiosity so well has she deliberately chosen everything from her carelessly tousled ponytail to her well-worn attire and even her comportment, all of which when combined suggest that she is most likely a spacer of some kind - a smuggler maybe, or perhaps a simple courier. Having selected clothing that appears as though it has seen frequent use, and was chosen for comfort and utility more than anything, Kaiya imagines that she looks like she is doing little more than scraping by, and is not likely to be worth the trouble of robbing, though the DL-44 heavy blaster holstered on her thigh may also dissuade any that might go so far as to entertain the notion.
Taking a seat with her back to the wall at the rear of the cantina that affords her the chance to see any patrons coming in the front or rear entrances, Kaiya adopts a comfortable slouched posture that betrays no hint of her mental and physical preparedness to act should the need arise, her feigned weariness and self-absorption at odds with how very keenly aware of the movements of all within the cantina she truly is. Her superiors at the enclave on Endor were unable to tell her what her contact here will look like, though Kaiya expects they gave the contact - who will allegedly be able to point Kaiya in the direction of the slavers she has been tasked with hunting down - at least a rudimentary description of her that would enable them to pick her out of a crowd even when not attired as one would expect a Jedi Knight to be attired. Patience being a virtue any hunter would be wise to cultivate, Kaiya sips her ale unhurriedly and settles in to wait for however long it takes for her contact to arrive and find her.
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Nartaga
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Sometimes you must pick the gun up to put the gun down.
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Affiliation: R'Crurak Clan
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Post by Nartaga on Feb 5, 2016 10:50:19 GMT -8
A young Twi'lek came in through the back employee entrance of Chalmun's, sweating a bit from both the temperature and his own sudden nervousness. He clocked into his shift and made his way to the kitchen. The Twi'lek nodded to the chef and staff as he grabbed a short bistro-style apron and tied it around his waste. He pocketed an order pad and wiped his nose on his sleeve before heading into the storage room filled with Chalmun's food and drink supplies. He took out the small vial from his pocket and made sure to close the door behind him.
A few minutes passed before the Twi'lek man opened the door, his hands trembling a bit from the adrenaline rush he was getting from what he had just done. He tossed the vial into the garbage and washed his hands before heading out into the Cantina to begin taking orders...
The Twi'lek man walked over to a booth carrying a platter of bantha steak and chips. He smiled nervously at the patron and nodded his head in respect as he walked away. It did not take long for the person to begin chowing down on the meal, eating like it was his first and last meal. The man let out a satisfied burp and patted his stomach. He frowned as something stirred in his gut, and he rubbed his belly to try and sooth it.
Within the hour most of the patrons who had ordered food and non-alcoholic drink were running to the refresher, and several had not made it. There was a trail of vomit and other bodily excretions leading to the restroom. Some were doubled over the garbage cans, their bodies lurching uncontrollably with each gag. The air was soon mixed with the scent of vomit and explosive diarrhea. The staff at Chalmun's were in a panic, refunding credits, cleaning up the mess, and getting yelled at by patrons of the Cantina.
The young Twi'lek server had made his way back to the employee entrance and quietly exited the cantina. He began to run from the back alley of the entrance only to run straight into the large human thug that had also been at the meeting with Louie. The Rodian walked up from behind him with his arms crossed.
I-it's done. They'll be cleanin' up tha mess fer weeks."
The one-eyed human smiled toothily and looked to the Rodian, who nodded his head. A look of horror came upon the Twi'lek's face. From the back alley two blaster shots rung out. No one really payed it any mind, this was Tatooine, after all.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2016 16:41:32 GMT -8
Shoulders hunched, her hands stuffed casually into the side pockets of a baggy olive hued jacket that looks as though it has seen better days, Kaiya enters the lobby of Chalmun's with what she believes to be the perfect combination of weariness and wariness one would expect of a knowledgeable visitor to Mos Eisley. A few heads turn as, after unwinding the scarf worn over her head and mouth before brushing the sand from her shoulders, Kaiya approaches the cantina's central U-shaped bar and orders an ale, but the gazes soon shift away; the young woman's appearance and demeanor inciting little curiosity so well has she deliberately chosen everything from her carelessly tousled ponytail to her well-worn attire and even her comportment, all of which when combined suggest that she is most likely a spacer of some kind - a smuggler maybe, or perhaps a simple courier. Having selected clothing that appears as though it has seen frequent use, and was chosen for comfort and utility more than anything, Kaiya imagines that she looks like she is doing little more than scraping by, and is not likely to be worth the trouble of robbing, though the DL-44 heavy blaster holstered on her thigh may also dissuade any that might go so far as to entertain the notion.
Taking a seat with her back to the wall at the rear of the cantina that affords her the chance to see any patrons coming in the front or rear entrances, Kaiya adopts a comfortable slouched posture that betrays no hint of her mental and physical preparedness to act should the need arise, her feigned weariness and self-absorption at odds with how very keenly aware of the movements of all within the cantina she truly is. Her superiors at the enclave on Endor were unable to tell her what her contact here will look like, though Kaiya expects they gave the contact - who will allegedly be able to point Kaiya in the direction of the slavers she has been tasked with hunting down - at least a rudimentary description of her that would enable them to pick her out of a crowd even when not attired as one would expect a Jedi Knight to be attired. Patience being a virtue any hunter would be wise to cultivate, Kaiya sips her ale unhurriedly and settles in to wait for however long it takes for her contact to arrive and find her. |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2016 6:23:18 GMT -8
Jawas are a common enough site in the cities and establishments of Tatooine that, were she not able to sense the small, hooded being's unique presence in the currents of the Force, Kaiya may have waved Plur away as he neared her table to avoid the potential distraction of rebuffing whatever sales offer he may have been peddling; fortunately for both, the abilities the Force bestows upon them enable them to recognize within one another their connections to the Force, making it easier to recognize that neither is precisely what they appear to be so that they can find one another amidst the crowd of strangers in the bustling, dimly lit cantina. Returning the nod the Jawa offers her with one of her own, Kaiya watches silently as he settles himself.
Recognizing the phrase, counter-phrase the Jawa opens with from her mission briefing, Kaiya answers with the words she had given to memorize, " . . . and can feel the Light even when the dawn is Dark."
Tapping the side of her largely untouched mug of ale, Kaiya asks, "Drink? She doesn't imagine any of the patrons within the cantina are likely to pay much mind to the odd pair in the shadowy back corner of the establishment, but Kaiya has been trained to assume nothing, and so explains, Might look better if you either have something to drink, or we can just act as though we're haggling over some trinket you're selling while we discuss our real business."
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Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2016 20:47:00 GMT -8
Plur nodded in recognition of the reply the woman had given, when he felt a sudden disturbance in the force, causing him to catch his response to her suggestion before he said anything. His gaze shifted around the room as the first of the patrons rushed towards the restrooms, with a number of people soon following in quick succession. Apparently Chelmun's was experiencing a bout of food poisoning, which would not be conducive to the discussions that he and Kaiya were about to participate in, especially given the classified nature of the material. He returned his attention to the young Jedi Knight and motioned towards the door
Perhaps we might be best to take our business to somewhere a little more... quiet? I don't imagine we'll get much privacy here with that going on...
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Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2016 21:29:33 GMT -8
Rubbing her eyes with a weary sigh, Kaiya nods, reluctantly agreeing, "You may be right," and then stands up to make her way to the front entrance of the cantina. Winding her scarf back around her nose and mouth, Kaiya pauses as she steps up into the entry lobby, looking over her shoulder at the interior of the cantina that has seen so much galactic history, now sadly reduced to the site of what seems to be a juvenile prank of some kind. Shaking her head, Kaiya steps outside into the dusty, arid, dry street outside the cantina. After a brief consideration of their options, Kaiya and Plur set out for Louie's Tavern.
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