Log:BHG: Den of Blades

The Guild squares off against psychopaths

OOC Date: March 2, 2021
Location: Coronet City, Corellia
Participants: Bounty Hunters' Guild, Boba Fett, Sebek, Chani Tahn as NPC, Narsai Ordo. Eriu Jynx, Hadrix Kora, Hahtavi, Kirioth Kora, Ishnahk, Karr'roga, Jarret Sur, Sumi Kora

The warehouse the group find themselves in is a large one. Large is an understatement. Massive. It delves deep into the planet's crust with a maze of conveyor belts and refineries that burn HOT with molten ore, supplying the thousands of moving components with raw materials to shape and outfit gear with military grade armor and weaponry. Is it loud in here? Rekk yeah it's rekking loud in here. It's the kind of loud you have trouble hearing yourself talk, loud. To combat this, members of the team who do not have helmets have been given ear protection with comms inside them. So they can at least communicate.

<<"Our goal is to reach the overseer suite, and the only way to get there is to get across this massive complex and find the lift to reach it.">> There is no easy way through this maze of shifting machinery. Not even flying with rocketpacks will yield any sort of tactical advantage. This is a down and dirty, rough and tumble, old fashioned gas station ass kicking.

<<"Well, let's get moving. There's no telling what's in here that wants to kill us. I'm looking forward to seeing what!">> Sumi steps onto one of the conveyor belts and draws a dagger from her belt. She immediately has to step out of the path of a machine's mechanical arm to avoid being flattened. It tears her cape slightly, making her growl.

Laurani Darncan looks like a boot. It's the fresh armor. The fresh gun. Everything's polished. Everything looks new. Even her undercut is freshly shaved. She's got blue hair! Vibrant, blue hair! She cradles the rifle more like its a trophy to be careful with rather than a weapon that will bring death upon her enemies. "CAN YOU GUYS HEAR ANYTHING?" She's yelling. Probably louder than necessary. Glancing amongst the gathered team advancing through the warehouse, Laurani Darncan really doesn't look like she belongs. And Laurani? This may be her first mission. She's gung-ho. Way more gung-ho than she should be. "COME ON, LET'S FIND THESE REKKERS!" She doesn't even know to cue up on the microbead she's been given to speak with anyone, much less know whether or not they can hear here. "RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Charging forward, Laurani Darncan begins sprinting forward down the conveyor, not going nearly as fast as she thinks she is because it's going entirely the opposite way she is.

And then she's not even running at all. Whipping out of nowhere like some obstacle course barrier, a machine arm conducting its business smashes into Laurani's brand new armor and sends her flying right back the direction she came, into and through the wall of a crate she'd briefly thought about vaulting over--because how cool is vaulting--and shattering it into wood splinters. It's a good thing she's got armor on. She's stilll definitely down for a moment, though, flailing. "GEROFF ME!" Flailing at some enemy she thinks has suddenly gotten hold of her.

Dangerous, deadly, cramped and hot...and they couldn't fly anywhere. Lamenting the loss of maneuverability did cross Narsai's mind, but they had a job to do. The shorter Mandalorian in her red painted Beskar ducks low, avoiding the swing of one particular mechanical arm and drawing her Beskad from behind her, bringing the sword to a comfortable but ready position. <<"Dangerous hostiles and a path that could crush us to death at any moment? At least the evening is never going to be boring!">>

Sensible paths be damned, Narsai is on the conveyer belt!

Boba is sporting his large blaster shotgun in both of his gloved hands. He's moving along with the others and is sweeping his visored vision around the machinery. "Watch your heads here." He tells the others near him, not that they really need to hear it. With a lashing sweep a mechanical arm swipes toward him and Boba just steps back and to the side to let it move past his armored chest. He lowers his rifle otu of the way of the arm as well then turns with a small grunt of a exhale to keep trudging onward along with the others.

The void armor allows Eriu those protections that also cover her features. The crackle of the comm unit with teh familiar voice imparting the needed information draws a nod from the slender form, the dark black armor trimmed in emerald and dulled silver getting lost at points in the dingy interior.

<<"Interesting, very well. Nimble footed and all that.">>

She rocks back onto her back foot and launches herself forward, going slightly off balance with the jerking of the belt beneath her. Once finally in some form of momentrum, Eriu adjusts and she draws the rapier from her back, strapped there to allow her better movement than it would otherwise at the hip.

She turns her head to check on the large Barabel with her. <"Come on Karr'roga, last one there is a rotten trandoshan.">> Encouragement at its best. She turns just in time to duck, rolling forward and rising to a knee and foot just as Boba yells his warning. <<"Thanks!">>

"BEHOLD!"

This was how you knew Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, Wielder of Tei Tenga, He Who Hunts was present. One didn't need comms to hear that bellow over the chaos.

"Of fire and fury I come before you to bring you to the gates of doom!" The Falleen was the yellow of excitement, adorned in an ornate battle cassock (don't ask) with the armour plates of CNG Weave strapped over the top. It gave him a sort of hip-cloak vibe which would of course be his undoing in this twisty maze of man mashing machines. His topknot fwipped as the slightly-strange sword on his back burst out of its breakaway sheath, ignoring the short mace-like baton in a leg holster. "Come forth, insects!" his velvety accented voice oozed, charging forward into the dancing machine arms with no real regard for his own safety. "Show me what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind!"

Coronet. Put a crown on a pack of smugglers, thieves and lowlifes you get the who passel with a smug sense of superiority. Why the hell does he keep coming back to this pit? Following Sumi the yelling lady and Narsai onto the conveyor the big man cross draws his pistol as well. Dipsy doodling to one side when one of the various bits of machinery attempt to make this the end of a successful first date.

Not today, unfeeling pneumatic arm! There has yet to have been dinner served. <<"Why can't criminals just occupy a buffet?">> Hungry as well, Hadrix's comms fade to muttering to himself as he makes his way.

On this trip, Hahtavi hopped a ride over on Sumi's ship. Save on fuel since they were both going to the same destination anyway. The newer Bounty Hunter's Guild member has arrived kitted out in better armor than his last outting with the Guild, and a new rifle. The Mandalorian is wearing his helmet, rechecked all his gear and his coms, then studied the many new faces during the briefing.

Now it's time to move out, Hahtavi draws a slow deep breath and watches Sumi skim on through past the first obstical on what will almost certainly be a very, very memorable venture. If he lives through it. They are liable to take a lot of damage in here.

What the kriff?! Some chick charges past him in shiny new armor, gets hit by some of the machinery and flung like so much chaff into crates. Yeah, no. Hahtavi eyes her but she seems to be all right and he moves on past. Being a lot more careful, wary. Galaar in his gloved hands. Conveyer belts ... nobody can see his grimace going in. He hears Boba's advisement, <" Hatavi copies, over. ">

Roth's doing her usual of drop in and personal consequences be damned. Which is probably why on the descent the alabaster Mandalorian suddenly gets hit by a very large mechanical arm and is batted into the wall. "Going to be one of those days..." she trails off as she hits the floor and then rolls to pop back up. Because she didn't have time to lay on the floor and wallow in her despair right now. She makes sure that her dagger and sword are still in hand, because that's what she needs to work!

Ishnahk makes his way into the factory along with the others; eyes searching for signs of trouble. So far, it's just a lot of machinery and noise. Growling, he moves a bit deeper inside. Maybe he's looking too intently for trouble. Maybe he's distracted. Either way, he manages to completely miss an automated arm as it swoops down to do whatever it's been programmed to do. Surely that wasn't to knock the Trandoshan flat on his leathery ass, but that is indeed what happens. He growls again, louder and with a few extra curses in his language as he climbs back to his feet.

Fe. Fi. Fo. Fumble. Behind Eriu Jynx is a chromium-clad killer, the opposite face of the Bounty Hunter Guild. Clad in the very best Heavy Power Armor, a Barabel's thick tail sways and shines. Foot-claws tap, and scrape, and it's clear the Barabel is burdened in the armor. By it. It takes away his grace, but adds even more protections against violence -- and a swinging mechanical arm tests this for all to see. Crashing into Karr'roga and sending him skittering across the crossing, a nest of violent hisses and a deep crocodillian rumbling muted by all the noise. In response, and confirmation to Eriu Jynx that singular optic visor burns hellish red and the Ramishi crystal sword sings from its sheathe, glowing cyan in all the terrible light. "Thissss Onnnne will eat the rrrrotten Trandoshan!" Sss-sss-sss. Soon after, Eriu Jynx has a massive shadow.

Behind the rest, Sur is represented by its alor, and Jarret walks draped in the sandy scales of his serpent's cloak; bootheels ringing on the deck, little is seen but the red plates of the warrior's legs and the gilded crimson of his helmet. Entering the factory, fronted by warriors of his own people, auretii volunteers, the great beast-of-war (praise be his name) that is Karr'roga, Jarret sweeps his gaze across the deadly path, the crushers and assembly arms that promise doom without the utmost care. Nods to himself.

With a sweep of his arm, Jarret draws back his cloak, revealing the partial curve of a tank affixed to the jetpack that usually clings to his back - and along with it, the black rifle-like weapon tethered to it by an armored feed line. He flicks a control by the grip as he takes hold of it, palm contact starting up close-ranged s-comp connection to the weapon and his armored systems. A spark at the end of its emitter conjures a short burst of flame, turned to the deck. << Incinerator active, >> Jarret announces to any of those on synchronized communicators. << I shall drive them into your steel. >>

The conveyor belt is wide and moving quickly. There are not a lot of room for mistakes, because each mechanical arm that obstructs their path has a purpose that is typically zapping something, smashing something, or pouring something really rekking hot. Furthermore, they're not alone on the belt. Aware of the fight that has consumed Coronet city are the gangsters responsible for earning the Guild's ire.

They charge down the belt toward the group like psychopaths. Each one has a painted face, wild eyes, oddly shaped armor and jagged metallic weapons that passed for swords on the street. Even though they screamed as they approached, to answer Sebek's challenge even though they didn't hear it, it was clear that they meant business.

To make matters worse, because it could /always/ be worse, the lights cut out, then on, and began to flash in a sequence that induced tachypsychia, where objects appeared to affect your perception of time, moving slower or faster.

<<"We have contacts! I... I can't see to count them!">> Between the moving machines, shifting bodies, and all the noise, it could easily become a scenario of sensory overload. Sumi charged ahead with her dagger at the ready!

Hard wiggling one way and hard wiggling the next, Laurani Darncan works herself out of the busted up planks she's realized are not in fact enemies and stands to her feet. There's a bit of sway to her posture, necessitating a half-step to catch her from pitching forward. It's a good thing her weapon is glued to her thanks to the sling around her torso. She's quick to gather up the weapon by handle and barrel, articulated knuckles of her armor folding and exposing the gloved digits beneath. She's barely got enough time to get her sorts about her before wild men with painted faces and mismatched armor are charging at them looking as if they mean to perform bodily harm. She draws her weapon up to her shoulder to tuck the stock in against it. Her arms tuck in towards her sides. She exhales entirely too long and also holds her breath entirely too long while trying to line up the shot. It's a good, base platform to take a shot from, standing position considered. But between the continued dizziness and the moving platform, all she succeeds in doing is leaving some carbon scored mark on a distant wall.

<<"I'm sure we can find a meal -after- we've dealt with the dangerous psychopaths,">> Narsai answers the muttering Kora giant, a nod given at Jarret's own words as she moves forwards to engage the psychopaths that rush to meet them. <<"Better to work up an appetite!">>

Then she was moving, a blur in the hellish strobing lights of the factory and its moving machines, ducking low and slicing with the motion before swiping the weapon across and sending one gutted man sprawling. The rising slash that follows as the Ordo Alor moves onto her next target bites deep, but the beskar blade isn't quite enough to end the second man outright.

Boba advances down the belt, his heavy footfalls carrying him further along as he tries to find some cover from any further unwanted attempts to smack him in to the new year. He peers over some of the upcoming debris and spies the psychos advancing on them.

<"We've got company, they look welcoming."> He dryl conveys over the comms before he steps out from behind his makeshift cover, levels his shotgun and releases a blast of red hot death that zips past some of the oncoming enemies!

Eriu realizes all too soon she is ahead of the pack or near to the front of it. It means the oncoming crazy creatures before her make her hesitate even as she feels the presence of the hulking shadow behind her. The rapier is lifted as she pushes up from her knee and to both feet. She presses into the belt beneath with her left foot and pivots, sweeping the blade in from the left side and then turns it, bringing it up and beneath the chin of her first opponent. Behind the helmet of the void armor her eyes narrow and she pulls back to turn and thrust into the mid section of the atrociously dressed.

She lets the figure drop to the conveyor belt still breathing but bleeding out profusely. Might make it a little slick for those following behind her.

She lowers the sword, flicking it to the side and showers the prone form in red droplets. <<"Rotten Trandoshan...">> Is said towards Karr'roga with a great deal of amusement in the accented tone. <<"Well then nothing to do but greet them, no?">> This in reply to Boba.

"Yes! YES! Glorious BATTLE!" The absolutely blood-crazed Falleen launched into the fray with the greenish, slightly-dripping combat sword. Dodging a machine, swaying under an arm, Sebek found himself face to face with the cheapest knockoff-brand melee warrior he had ever encountered. "They send to me a child! Small wretch of a weak brotherhood!" And with that, the warrior of darkness swung the sword of darkness straight down upon the head of his inferior foe.

Or, he would have, had a construction arm not gotten in the way.

"Fetid!" Turning, pivoting, finding the lack of space for his Desert Wind /particularly/ uncomfortable, he swung again and got the sword stuck in a nearby wall. There was a twitch in the alien's eye, and the third swing took a lovely gash out of the conveyor belt.

This, of course, would not do.

"No," grunted Sebek. "No." His skin was shifting, noticeable even in the orange glow of repeated crimes against health and safety regulations. "No, no, NO!" Orange. Burnt orange. Red. The tainted combat sword clattered on to the ground next to the belt that he duelled on.

Behold the Eyes of the Darkness! Behold their golden glow of treachery and red outline of rage!

Behold the crimson blade of TEI TENGA!

<<"Trandoshan">> for a moment the big man has to turn towards Ishnahk as the saurian picks himself back up, <<"The repeater on my back, take it.">> a toy for the reptilian alien and an opportunity for the hunter to play with a new toy. The blade in hand hums to life, its buzzing whine hidden beneath the din of the factory works.

And then it's like that one time he got dragged into the Pulse. But at least this time he can do something about the lunatics flailing about him in this location. It's frowned upon at that blasted nightclub. Pistol swinging up and firing off a trio of quick shots while his blade is held at ready.

<<"Kriff">> two shots spark against various metal while one finds new home in the madman that remained after Narsai's assault. Dropping the man to the ground as he traces where enemies were, where their movements telegraph them to be next. The raving of the Faleen momentarily claiming his attention before back to work,

<<"I want kebab...">>

Dodging strange machinery that can crush, burn, or fry them, Hahtavi proves light on his feet as he moves down the convery belt. At least, so far. This Mandalorian stays quiet, senses alert as he moves through the obsticals. The yelling he can barely hear through all the noise and his helmet and the lights starting to go on and off? That's annoying as drek!

Nothing to be done about it but press on. Crazy whackjobs come right at him! Hahtavi fires off two quick rounds of blaster fire, mindful of allies downrange as best he may! The first shot misses and hits the wall but the second burns some meat!

Any second now blades will be swinging for him! Thankfully, Hadrix Kora is right ahead of him.

Roth doesn't take long to get into the mindset of stabbing people. Like she's on autopilot really. The vibrodagger lashes out quickly, striking twice against her target. But the swing with the vibroblade misses. It doesn't make her frown, it's just really close in here. The woman gives a growl and then squares off against the next targets that may come in. And wait is that a lightsaber?! She's seen a lot of those the last few weeks.

Ishnahk barely has time to get to his feet before the lights go crazy and the bad guys start pouring out. With a roar, he raises his rifle and joins the others in combat. He stands his ground and lines up a shot at one of the psychos as they come running in. A red bolt erupts from his rifle and takes the Trandoshan's enemy right in the chest, dropping him. "Hah! Die!" he growls victoriously. When Hadrix calls to him, Ish turns to the armored man with a nod. He snags the rifle from Hadrix's back while slinging his own weapon over his shoulder. "Thanksss." he says, rubbing his claws over the weapon and looking for his next target. "I'll sssend many enemies to the Scorekeeper with thissss!"

The moment that horde of bodies starts coming, they're being targeted. Enemy Tracking Systems in the Power Armor lock on to each individual, and when those get close to Eriu Jynx?

It's on her right she'll see it, that large hand-width Ramishi Crystal Blade brighten with cyan light, suddenly stab into the howling psychopath's eye. He's dead on the hit, but before the body knows that the brain is gone, Karr'roga uses one hand and vivisects the human anatomy - spilling insides outside with mechanical precision, and unfeeling remorse. Like an Iron Giant, the Barabel stands behind the Hapan and floods the battlefield with 5,000-Lumens of brilliant spotlight from the helm of that power armor.

Numbers and letters kick up in that singular ocular visor as an area nearby lights up crimson, and that large chromium tail gives a violent thwack against the ground, and the crystal blade drips with blood. There's a soft, odd, kind of 'gulping' given from behind the woman. "Ssssay the worrrrdssss, and Thisss Onnne will obey." For now, Karr'roga simply moves behind her -- offering to bisect anything silly enough to get near.

Jarret has brought a flamethrower to a swordfight, like a proper engineer - if not one who wants to have an overabundance of fun. << Incinerator on, >> he bellows over the line, stepping in to brace; pulling a cord affixed to his gauntlet, the hem of the cloak goes up and tight against the pack as if drawn by a curtain-pulley, giving him ample room to squeeze the trigger on his weapon. A gush of bright yellow-white flame issues from the weapon, a stream that rakes across the belt in the direction of two impending crazy men; but alas, they are quicker, and they dive and twist out of the way of the flames.

<< Ne shab'rud'niO, chaavla, >> Jarret mutters under his breath, but the fact is, he's missed. He'll have to make sure he doesn't next time.

The battle is chaos. But now, with Karr'roga's spot light, the matter of the quick flashing lights matter little. With a clear sight picture, anyone with the perception and time to count will come up with 28 psychopaths in the immediate vicinity. As each make their attempts at dodging, it looks like a wave of people avoiding danger. What with the swarm of crazies, their jagged pieces of metal for melee weapons, it looks like an odd party with a bunch of swinging, gleaming pieces of steel.

Even Sumi is not spared from the onslaught. She casts a dead foe from the conveyor and is immediately accosted by three others. A hard hit strikes her leg but the armor plating present there stops the blade from finding any purchase despite robbing her of her balance. She tumbles to one side in a whirl of tattered cape and rises back up with weapon in hand ready to dance.

There are twenty-eight (28) foemen left, two (2) of which are wounded.

Fire, blasters, blades clashing and the angry glow of plasma from a lightsaber? The fight on the belt was a sight to behold!

Narsai cuts down her injured target, advancing forwards into the tide of psychopaths, but the next target parries and blocks, adding the impact of metal on metal to the carcophany of noise.

Amidst the fight Narsai twists, lifting one foot to avoid being tripped by another swinging hazard of the mechanical arms.

That wild miss of a shot is a much more dire situation than it was a few seconds ago. Zealous, painted figures wielding wicked looking weapons swarm them, and Laurani Darncan tries to jerk her barrel into position on center mass of one of them. It doesn't do her much good when the swinging cleave of another cuts right through the jumpsuit on her arm and rips the fabric open. The laceration that's yawned open on her arm is a wicked gash of exposed muscle fiber and pink tissue. Severed veins and capillaries erupt with blood, which is carried in the whipped arc of the sword's swing to paint across the conveyor belt and a nearby piece of being-construted equipment. The screech that follows is not over the comms, thankfully for those fighting.

Laurani has little time to think about how it feels, because failing to learn from the first time and the panic of being swarmed by enemies means she's not looking for the robotic arm that swings out of nowwhere and smashes into her again. The wind is knocked out of her chest, leaving it feel like someone tried to suck the air straight out of her lungs and like she can't draw it in again. Sprawled back on the conveyor, Laurani's arms and legs work to try and get her out of being trapped on the curved back of her armor. Wheezing horribly, she yanks up the blater rifle and lets off another shot. This one, perhaps because all of her will is focused into it, barks out and catches one of the attacking enemies in the kind of way that makes it pitch forward onto the conveyor, done.

The strobing lights all around them are certainly not making this any easier for any of them. The BHG Guildmaster advances further amongst the chaos though and when the rushing psychos push closer toward those on his team he steps forward and activates his knee rockets. However the mandess of the situation makes targeting an issue, clearly, as the rockets that erupt from his leg all scream around wildly and somehow manage to be evaded by the 28 enemies attacking them!

Boba... grunts. He raises his shotgun and starts to march onward ready to leavel it again at any of the psychos who come at him or anyone near him as they keep pushing.

<"Don't let them intimidate you!"> Fett's voice says over the comms.

The bright light from behind her which is brought on from Karr'roga in his power armor back lights the slender figure in the form fitted armor. She rolls a shoulder back and is lifting her sword when the attack comes from her side, the lithe Hapan not quite swift enough. The sword that looks ill kept slams into her side and breaches the armor, causing red to spill out and down the lovely exterior.

<<"Drat! You egg sniffer!">> She is midst grunting in pain when she nearly gets clocked by an arm.

She barely twists and turns out of the way, lifting on her toes as she comes back around and swings the sword at the figures middle. Claiming her hit the second is brought down from overhead with mighty vengeance to cleave into his shoulder and neck before she pulls the slender blade free and whirls about to slice deeply into the arm of the next unlucky foe. <<"Karr'roga! Squish them like the bugs they are!">> The posh like intonation offered towards the barabel, helmet regaridng Laurani and others, having missed the devastating hits on some of her current comrades though the glow of the saber gives her pause.

That weapon that had /laired/ on Sebek's hip was no baton nor bludgeon. The red beam had burst from the opposite end of the flanged, menacing pommel. Almost-double the length of a normal lightsaber hilt, Tei Tenga was a simple weapon of simple design and one singular purpose. Carnage.

The Falleen's jaw unhinged and what emerged was a deafening noise best described as 'unholy'. The scream boomed around the narrow confines of the deathtrap, audible over the chaotic din and carried on by sheer anger. Perhaps the one knife destined for the Knight of Ren's face was deflected by sheer concussive sonic force, or maybe just luck. "I shall devour you whole!" he promised to every single living thing in the room as he mentally seized the Force by its metaphorical neck and wrung from it dark sorcery beyond mortal ken.

The time for battle was over. The time for slaughter had begun.

Tei Tenga howled furiously as He Who Hunts swung it around like a tossball bat. The concepts of 'finesse', 'elegance', 'refinement', and 'calm down you have allies in the near vicinity' had gone out the metaphorical window about the same time his sanity did. A lightsaber was not a bludgeon, but when confronted with non-practitioners and those that didn't hold a candle to the glorious Jeedai, it didn't need to be any more complex. The answer to 'Will It Blend: Gangsters Edition' was a resounding yes as the one guy who tried to shank the truly irredeemable was utterly and promptly torn in twain. Messy business. "BEHOLD!" was the hiss-scream from the mad berserker.

"HE WHO DIES!"

Into the teeth of madness, too many to evade so he does what he was raised to do and uses his armor. Sparks shoot off as the big man's helmeted head comes down to literally smash the blade aimed for his neck, numbing fingers and turning the weapon aside. Helmet visor focusing on the painted face even as Hadrix continues to step forward, cramming hypersonic vibrating durasteel into the gut of his aggressor while blows hammer down on shoulders and across his chest with another shower of sparks.

<<"Roth. Report!">> dipping to the side and pulling his blade through the first when Hahtavi's shot sings past his hip, spanging off his cuisse, and for a moment his instinct is to whirl and swing for the latest aggressor - until he recognizes them. A moment and that heavy feeling like he might just do it anyway before his blade snaps out and severs the head of a charging marauder, skull falling back and body running forward to tumble onto its chest.

<<"Kebab and ribs, Narsai - how about that?">> HADRIX. IS. HUNGRY.

And the Falleen keeps talking about eating.

Krif! It /is/ just like the Pulse but with more blood! Thankfully someone's turned on a beam and it helps. Throw in a light sabre and it's even a better show!

Hahtavi is quick to dodge but not enough as the blades seek his flesh! One clangs hard against his armor but strikes his leg ere it is past, slicing the fiberweave open between plates. Blood at once starts to weal up but it's not a bad wound.

Another mechanical device is suddenly in the way, forcing the Mandalorian to duck! Hahtavi barely evades it, pressing forward to seek another of the foe! His Galaar fires twice more in succession - red bolts lighting up his portion of the conveyer belt. Another of the crazies goes down!

And some of them are talking about /food/.

<<Roth's fine. Everything's great.>> Roth tells Hadrix, because that is what a crazy person that has holes in her tells others. The white armored Mandalorian was too focused on who was about to stab her again and didn't see the mechanical arm swinging her way, which causes her to get thrown again. She rolls, but it isn't an immediate thing when she gathers herself from the floor. "Get up and stop mucking around, Roth." she mutters to herself as she doesn't go for an attack, but gets herself up properly to continue the fight.

Just as he's lining up his next shot, another blasted mechanical arm comes swinging 'round and once again Ishnahk finds himself knocked backwards. Luckily, it happens just as one of these psychos comes running up swinging a sword at him. "Raaa!" snarls the rust-colored Trandoshan as he falls. However, he manages to hang onto his rifle. Ishnahk is nearly as surprised as his attacker, though the Trandoshan recovers first. He brings the rifle up from his place on the ground and fires a blast at the enemy that had just attacked him. He bares his teeth in bloodthirsty glee as his enemy goes down. With a few moments now to recover, Ish climbs back to his feet and rejoins the battle.

The rush of flames from his rifle works around him in a dragon's plume, Jarret stepping back as he is stabbed and slashed but lightly at his arm and torso by marauding crazy people. << Die screaming, >> he hisses at the incoming madmen, lashing the gush of flame across their way - he misses as his opponent leaps back, driven by herd instinct to avoid anything that burns, but the other is caught up in the plume entire. Screaming, awreath in bright flames, the junk-armed psycho is now his own ready-made pyre, conveniently provided by the Mandalorian warlord-engineer.

The battle has fewer enemies than when it began, but our team has not come out from this unscathed. Many were struck by the automated arms, others by the psychopaths wielding blades, but they are now reaching the end of the belt where the pathway to the lift is, well lit at that too! STEPPING OFF THE CONVEYOR BELT is now an option, one which Sumi does not take when she throws herself into the path of Roth's foes to shield the Mandalorian from a certain death. Unfortunately, Sumi's armor is not designed well enough to sustain or absorb the cuts, and she's not only cut and stabbed, but kicked off the conveyor to land back first on the pathway with an audible THUNK.

The battle segues to more firm ground, with thirteen (13) foes remaining.

Trying to get up amidst the wildly swaying mechanical arms and all the slicing weapons seems like a horrible idea to Laurani. Rather than try to battle to standing, Laurani draws the barrel around to target another one of the painted. In another stroke of luck, despite the blood spilling onto the conveyor and continuing to coat the sleeve of her jumpsuit until it's sticky and hot, this squeeze of the trigger catches another one of the crazed. Not enough to put him down, but good enough for Laurani. She rolls, pitching to the left and wrapping her arms around her blaster in a hug that protects it from the constant twisting and rolling side over side. Another sharp outcry is rendered out of her throat when all her weight is briefly on her injured arm, but the most important thing is getting off the moving platform, even if she plummets to the ground off the edge and lands in a heap.

Boba pushes forward with everyone else. They should have the advantage here, as they're a better armed and armored force. These guys they're up against are a ragtag band of spice addicts... dirty Corellian spiceheads...

He's not a fan.

The end of the belt is in sight through the madness and Fett reaches down to his belt to pull a round glop grenade out of a pouhce. He depresses the button on it as a group of psychos jump on to the belt to try to cut them all off...

He tosses the grenade, letting it roll down the belt where it bursts and covers the psychos in the gooping solution that covers and insta-glues them to the belt.

<"Lets go!"> Fett shouts as he charges off of the belt now.

Eriu's injured foe is gunned down and it takes a moment for the armored Hapan to stare at the unmoving figure. <"Well then."> She steps over and watches as more than a few of their adversaries are thrown off the side and into...well she is not going to waste time thinking about that. Her sword lifted upwards, the blade pointed in the direction of her next intended target she stalks forward and slams the pommel into the woman's face, blinding her for the moment as the blade finds a home deep in her chest. The blade gets caught for a moment as the woman turns, attempting to pull the blade free and sweep it in the direction of another incoming and misses, catching air and spreading her recent opponent's blood.

She turns her head to glancea side at the others, watching as more and more are cut down and they remain, riding the conveyor belt to their intended target.

Behold the Mad Falleen, his skin the deep red of fury! Behold the red-ringed golden eyes of one steeped in dark magicks and sorcery! And behold Tei Tenga baying for blood and souls! His face gritted, his eyes wide, He Who Hunts took one step off the belt, planted his foot, pivoted, weaved low, and swung his horrible weapon almost a full 270-degrees.

The problem when bringing a knife to a knife-fight was that occasionally one maniac loses his temper and cheats. Nothing that any of them were carrying could stop the sudden whiparound of burning concentrated plasma. The blood-red blade burned a gigantic flat arc in the darkness, such was the speed of the swing, and bisected three of the gangers. Two copped it very very painfully, and one less pa- okay let's not lie about it, it was just as bad. Just less embarrassing.

And still Sebek's rage burned. "Your kin! Your ancestors! You children! Your infirm! All to be rent asunder! All to be consumed!" Had he even eaten today?

Sumi off the belt, Roth being rushed. Everything seems to be going according to plan. Absolutely perfect. PER-FECT. Blade turning aside blade, Hadrix continues his forward march, <<"Sumi'Alor - you alright?">> Roth is apparently still fine, she's up and at them - stabbing away even as the 8mm in his hand belches fire and a figure is twisted, the second round spiraling past the shoulder that was there a moment ago.

<<"Miss Jynx, I see you've deigned to join us in the muck and mud. Good to see you. Is Fatstach still alive as well?">> casual banter it seems, even as the warrior he had injured is given another shot through the neck. <<"Or have you finally done away with him and made Shadowport into something competent?">> still talking as the body sags and Hadrix sends it rolling from the belt with a heavy boot to the chest.

<<"Noodles. Noodles, kebab and ribs... Yeah.">>

The man has spent -too- much time around lightsabers, the swinging fire-stick noted, but it's not a need to retreat from yet.

Finally, there is the end of the conveyer belt and the lift up ahead. Boba clears the way to make a hole and Sumi thumps off of the conveyer and onto the floor, injured. Hahtavi is too busy blasting another suicide druggy, burning a hole through their chest before he too can move foreward and leap down off of the beltway.

At once Hahtavi offers a gloved hand to Sumi to help her up off of the floor, if she'll take it. <<" Come on. It's not break time yet, Alor. ">>

Oh no, Sumi's here. Roth manages to hobble to her feet as she sees her Alor get stabbed and she curses under her breath in the helm. Not what she wanted this evening. She rights things quickly by going in with the vibrodagger and vibrosword to STAB THE TWEAKER TO DEATH VIOLENTLY!

Ahem. The white armor is smeared with blood now and there is heavy breathing as her shoulders rise and fall. She's quiet though, just like she usually is in battles. She looks around to see if Sumi is alright and reaches out a hand to her just in case she needs steadying or help up.

Ishnahk takes another enemy out of the battle and continues on with the others. As soon as the opportunity presents itself, the Trandoshan leaps off of the belt to a safer position. Once he's got his feet under him in a new position, he raises his rifle once again and fires off a shot. His target dodges and Ish growls a few more Trandoshan curses as he prepares for whatever these psychos have in store next.

Karr'roga is still alive. Still moving. But when Eriu Jynx is hit there's a long moment where it likely looks like to anyone nearby, that the Barabel is about to lose his temper -- one large, chromium-plated clawed foot thrusting down on one of the corpses to slide those killing-claws into the chest. To make sure. "Sss-sss-sss. They trrrry to bleeeeed the fight from you." There comes that gulping sound, checking on Eriu Jynx, but when she had made the command? So will a mechanized tremor overtake Karr'roga's form. The Death-Crystal Sword stabs into the air near one of the psychopaths, the wrist twists so the blade's edge is upwords and it rips upwards. No more delicacy. No more grace. There's a killing-machine's motions on each side of Eriu Jynx, to keep her flanks covered while that spotlight floods the field before them.

Stabbed at slashed at multiple points, Jarret dares a death of a thousand tiny cuts - yet thr blood is barely seen against his maroon undersuit, save where it is lit up by the flames. One last gush does Jarret loose upon the dwindling horde, silent in his combat, until the flame unit sputters and dies and he slides it home in its mount on his back. << Flamer out, >> he announces over comms, backing off so that he is not caught unarmed.

Sumi is toppled by a gang member psychopath who lands on top of her to try to stab her repeatedly. The action proved only to be their death, as it was she who stabbed them and cast the body to her side to find two Mandalorians waiting for her, hands held out for her to grab. (Hahtavi and Roth) <<"Thanks,">> She says prior to accepting both and hobbling a bit from the bite of a dagger across her leg.

They're not out of this fight yet though. Four (4) foes remain, and the lift doors have parted to show the king of this psychopath party. A fifteen foot tall creature that has many arms, like a squid! Oogly eyes look to the BHG foes who have interrupted their operations, and it scoots forward with a blade in each tentacle/hand. A disembodied roar that was the stuff of nightmares screamed as it joined the fight, followed by what remain of the psychopath number!

Hauling herself up off of her back, Laurani rises to her full height. The powerful throbbing in her arm is amplified from the rolling and the impact against the ground, but keeping it tucked closer to her body still allows her to lift her blaster rifle and squeeze a shot off at the remaining foes. The ones that are painted and in armor, at least. It takes a moment longer for the presence of the giant creature to really register in her head, just because she doesn't expect some fifteen-foot-tall thing to suddenly arrive via a lift. Trigger squeezed, Laurani stares in disbelief at the rippling armes and the creature itself. She thought the zealots were crazy. This is enough to make her jaw drop open.

Boba's eyes are back on his team when the attack from the psycho comes to strike him in the damn ass. The sting is real. Boba spins around and doesn't skip a beat. He draws the silvery westar pistol from his holster at his side and aims it down sights at the Psychos face.

PEW! One dead.

PEW! Over the shoulder of another rushing him.

PEW! Third time's a charm, hitting that one in the face as well.

The sudden appearance of the big bad though has Boba taking a staggering step off to the side. He turns to look at his group and motions at Sebek. <"You. Lightsaber. Go get it! Give it Hell!"> Boba shouts at the blade wielding Sebek

Eriu glances towards Hadrix, the reflective visor of her void armor centering on the large mandalorian. <"Mmm as far as I last checked he was still alive but every day is a new day. One can never really tell. Though as for Shadowport, its been a thought."> She counters only to glance back at her partner in crime a she wades forward, more of the little minions falling as she means to engage the big bad and ugly.

The sword is brandished but either she catches air or one of the many swords that begin to spin out and in a deadly frenzy, causing her to back step in an attempt to remain engaged and out of harms way.

<"Nevermind!">

The Force screamed and Sebek's head whipped around further than a non-reptilian neck could possibly hope to achieve. The Falleen stared daggers at the oncoming beast. The rest of his body followed and Tei Tenga was raised to the ready. "Another corpse for the pile," he hissed, his breath strangely fogging in the heat. Must be an alien thing. Then, he was off.

The Knight of Ren had crossed the distance between himself and the Squid Boss Fellow at breakneck pace. The howling red blade of Tei Tenga removed the many right arms before turning around and severing a prime cut of squid rump for later cooking. "Finally, a meal worth devouring!" Ya boy hungry.

What in space THAT!? Hadrix is glad for the helmet. It has saved him from being hit in the face, allowed him to headbutt a blade and now it is keeping others from seeing the face of a man who is not quite sure what he is looking at. Not quite sure if it made him make a mess. A moment a shift in step to 'get an angle' while Sebek goes in blade swinging.

Personal area clear.

Whew.

Eyes following the monstrosity, that he can hear over the din of the factory, through the helmet and ear protection. "Space..." Hand moving of it's own accord, a round fired into the chest of the beast, coring in and striking vital organs to sap the strength from it. The initial sag all the Massive Mandalorian needs before his arm traverses to the last of the shrieking degenerates who takes the first shot to the leg, buckling them and allowing the second eight millimeter slug the chance to take a run through their body and explode meat and fluids out their back.

Hadrix keeps watching the creature, hoping he was right and it's falling.

Somehow, Hahtavi was hit in the back and in all the excitement, he didn't even realize he'd been wounded. Not until his boots hit the floor off of the conveyor. He's just helped Sumi up and turned when the HUGE SQUID THING comes out of the lift! The Mandalorian blinks in surprise - it's like a really bad drug trip!

Side stepping to clear Sumi's path, he brings up his Galaar to blast the unimaginable beast but ... he's too slow. The light sabre flashes left and right, Hadrix is firing, and in a matter of seconds there's chunks of fresh sushi wiggling all over the floor or fallen in globs.

Yeah. Note to self. Don't piss off anybody with a lightsabre if you aren't covered in beskar.

Roth looks up at the squid like being that comes out of nowhere and just shakes her head, "I'm not even mad. I'm impressed. Where did they get that thing?" she asks as blood runs down her side. Then she realizes that she's in a bad spot to be smack talking a thing with that many arms. But it's downed in record time. Wait, the psychopaths gave them more trouble?! It's just one of those weird fights. She finds a piece of machinery to lean against while she regains some air, making sure not to get any appendages stuck in it.

As soon as that big ugly squid thing appears, Ishnahk knows what his next target is. He brings his rifle up to line up a shot and then suddenly there's that red blade in the way and the next thing the Trandoshan knows, the boss falls to a blasterbolt coming from Hadrix's direction. "Nice work!" he calls as the remaining enemies are finished off. He keeps his rifle ready just in case, but his stance is more relaxed now that the things moving in the factory are the hunters and their allies. "Sssoo. We gonna eat thisss thing?"

Wounded in several places like Benkei on the bridge, Jarret is already reaching for the bone handle of his beskad when the great tentacled thing rises to meet them all upon the lift, one great madman's graven idol come to life - only to stop when the serpent-jetii with the blazing sword meets it with a howl, gutting it cleanly, as Hadrix shoots it in its cephalapodean face. << Dar'jetii, >> he mutters to himself, taking note of the serpent and his blade, and looking now to see where Narsai might be. He pulls a catch on his back unit with difficulty, letting the empty tank fall with a clatter, even as he moves to pull a fresh one off its mount on his hip and socket it into its receptacle.

Never hurts to be ready, after all. Just stabbed.

The Ramishi Crystal Sword spirals a few times, clearing the blood off of the blade and casting air about. It's then slid into the scabbard with a quiet click, and as the singular optic of red hones in on the menace of a threat -- that comes and goes. There is one alert still on the targeting system for the Power Armor, and that hones in on...Sebek.

There's a growl, a rumble, a cacophony of hisses coming from Karr'roga's exposed maw - the floodlight powers down, but Karr'roga's chromium-plated tail is swaying behind him, one hand moves to settle along Eriu Jynx's side. Then the other is offered, as if to heave her to his shoulder at mere request. "We should leeeaaave. Bring you to Naiaaa." The Barabel could care less for the presence of so much meat - it was grossly tainted now anyways.