Log:Gearhead Grindup I
Yxuara and Lira'una take on Zypha's contract against a Gearhead gangboss, Tamara Chrys, with the help of clan Kora's Hadrix and Sumi. The Kjaar stimgang is known for its brutal and destructive treatment of their supposed racket, the contract itself put together subrosa by the community itself to deal with their leader by surprise. Tamara is not to be taken alive: payout only available on execution.
Gearhead Grindup I
OOC Date: October 3rd, 2023
Location: Nar Shaddaa: Gearhead District
Participants: Lira'una, Yxuara, Sumi Kora, Hadrix Kora, Zypha (GM)
The harshness of this part of Gearhead is only matched by its misery. Trash litters the sides of the street, and the shadows here seem somehow deeper than other parts of Nar Shadaa. One could almost swear the neon lights that shudder and twitch were somehow dimmer, the mercs more malnourished, the spicefiends somehow more desperate.
"Rancor Ultraviolence" Flashes against a particularly dim street: the focus of this story. A hole-in-the-wall bar that serves as the Kjaari's homebase-- The gang ran by Tamara Chrys' cult of personality. Men and women bearing the gang's colors and sigils twitch and watch the streets with paranoid eyes, weak forms elevated into some degree of strength by nothing but stim overuse alone.
Foot traffic has long since died down here. Recent Kjaari-related muggings, murders, and sentient trafficking have seen to that.
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 20:13:57 ]
The job was simple, or so the contract claimed. 'Tamara Chrys', Kjaari gangleader, is wanted dead. A known face-changer and identity thief. The execution squad sent down to the bowels of Gearhead were given *some* information: a palm-sized projection of her current identity, a Zabrak woman that appears to be double her actual biological age.
Outside 'Rancor Ultraviolence', the harsh aural shreds of what could only be described as industrial noise masquerading as music pierced the milieu of the slum's street. Within, it bore the aesthetics of a foundry, with harsh white-yellow-red neon lights, furniture shaped from starship scrap, and the kind of liquor that could murder a baby rancor.
The Kjaar as a gang were identified by the color orange, and by the sigil of a Krayt Dragon Skull, bisected and exploding at one end. This was their home-turf, though their numbers were lacking.
With the help of the Koras, Yxuara is able to pinpoint an exact time that Tamara would *definitely* be present. She could be dragged out of her shadows by the presence of a new face, particularly one that spends enough time at the glowing-topped bar. He had it on good authority that *tonight*, there would be no excuse for her not to show. All that was left was to find out if she was wearing the same face, or had switched: The bartender is decidedly not busy, and some of the stimgangers even look... Too out of it, to consider questioning to be a red-flag.
From outside, Lira'una, Sumi, and Hadrix, see the last accounted-for Kjaari enter the bar. There were some civilians within, some trying to pledge themselves into the gang, others unaware of the risks, but now was the time that they could enter, without fear of causing the target to flee before even entering the building.
[ Yxuara (yus) | 20:23:40 ]
Yxuara is of course sharing this information with the rest of the group, as having a well informed task force increases the chances of our success. And not while walking the street, either! The Squib remains outside the bar at this time as the gang members filter in, he uses the time to inspect the outside of the structure, looking for possible exit points/entry locations, easy places to leap out of or convenient routes off from the roof of the structure--you never can tell if Tamara would choose an escape from these direction.
This new armor is amazing and while it makes him feel bolder, he's still keen on keeping his fur in one piece at the moment, so he's not going to be wading too far into the alleyways.
[ Sumi Kora (Sumi) | 20:24:47 ]
Sumi made a casual yet fearless approach of the front once notification that the last of the accounted-for acquisitions were on location. As she closes the distance, her demeanor is clearly female by the slight swagger, and her bootfalls might have been heard over the noise; a methodical jingle-jangle of spurs and spent casings rattling on her person. A cape hangs down her back, over her shoulders, concealing the small arsenal of death-dealing weapons available to her. Her ensemble is made complete by a matching helmet, made of the same armor plating as the rest of her armor, but with a mirror-like reflective T-visor that conveyed the image of whoever she looked upon.
Gloved hands casually hook upon her belt as she intends to make her entrance. Those who knew Sumi, or worked with her before this, knew the Mandalorian did not sneak or hide anywhere. For some, this was a blessing, and others a curse. <<"Approaching the entrance now.">> Sumi alerts, every intention of just walking on by. She, like the gang members, had a Krayt Dragon emblazoned upon her armor, though her branded image was swiped with dry blood.
[ Hadrix Kora (Had) | 20:29:00 ]
<<"Copy.">>
Standing ready, well crouching, ready, across the way and watching the entrance, Hadrix's bes'kad was in one hand and a hefty wookiee pistol gripped in the other. Awaiting the go-ahead while keeping to overwatch in the meantime.
Helmeted head moving slowly to survey the street, the side of the building, keeping his gaze peeled for additional threats not readily identified from the outside.
<<"When ready, signal. I'll come.">> head lowering, breathing growing a little harsher as the fires of the old anger are stoked and he begins to simmer.
[ Lira'una (Lira) | 20:35:18 ]
In stark contrast to the heavily armed figures in her little group, Lira is... not. She's wearing a light, black robe that's enough to keep the elements off of her and perhaps absorb some impact from a punch, but it wouldn't be doing much more than that. It hangs down to her shins, otherwise swallowing her lithe, five-nothing frame, and the hood pulled up over youthful, lavender features. Inside the robe, her lekku slither a bit, unseen to the outside world. At least she had an earpiece in so she could keep up with comms, even when they weren't spoken aloud.
Lira, observing the entrance of the last Kjaari, swallows hard. While the rough and gritty atmosphere of 'Rancor Ultraviolence' isn't unfamiliar to someone who grew up on Nar Shaddaa, the notion of hunting someone down with an intent to kill leaves a cold feeling in her stomach.
But she joined this little hunting party to learn more about Hadrix -- his methods, his intentions, his way of living. Anyone that knew Lira would openly guffaw at the idea of her becoming a Mandalorian, but her curiosity was only matched by certain feline species. And, since Hadrix had offered to teach her...
It's with him that she's crouching -- monitoring comms, but otherwise being quiet in the shadows with him. Occasionally, her blue eyes shift, her hooded face lifting a little to look up at his visor, before looking back to the entrance and simply... waiting.
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 20:42:42 ]
The Rancor Ultraviolence is a deathtrap. As Yxuara brings his eyes across the bar and weathers the sonic storm of harsh music, there's barely enough room for the bar itself, let alone any hint of an employee area. The ventilation systems are... Slow. Both by the stench of spice-laced sweat and the stale air, a single peek at the system itself reveals a patchwork web of barely held-together tubes.
Yxuara could easily fit into it, if he found an open port. The average human could, as well.
A strange commotion stirs. One of the Kjaari, twitchy and wide-eyed, kicks a patron out of the establishment with the galaxy's sloppiest punch. The cold air makes the ganger twitch, and that's all the time it takes before his belly's shanked with a vibro-knife, by the haggard Twi'lek he just assaulted out of the bar. With a panicked look in his eyes, he stumbles further back, before the Twi'lek dashes off to parts unknown.
A few of his compatriots crowd the entrance, twitchy, almost-puppeted forms bursting into laughter as one of their own bleeds from an open wound. The stabbed-ganger staggering to a stand, insensate to the pain, broken teeth curling into a smile.
It's this trail of blood that welcomes Sumi within the club itself. Her intimidating, iconic armor not yet settling into the addled masses. Two even spread their broken smiles at her, mistaking the mark on her for their own.
[ Yxuara (yus) | 20:52:35 ]
Yxura's hand pops up and gives the helmet on his head a good klunk, sealing it against his ears to deafen the noise as he slips into the bar in with the last of the gang members. "<<Good everyone could make it!>>" his piping voice says over the com, <<"I would go inside earlier...but in here by myself surrounded by them? I never liked being a hostage.">> he settles with a grumble.
Pulling out his trusty prybar, Yxuara is going in through the ducts--follow the air back towards the chemical-stink, and if he's even luckier a discrete route in to what really goes on while the gang is distracted at the party. "<<Ductwork is spacious..>>" he reports. "<<And sticky.>>"
Sumi's rolls are to potentially spot Tamara and intimidate her way into the crowd.
[PASS ( +32)] Sumi Kora's Intimidate @ (100) diff.
[PASS ( +96)] Sumi Kora's Spot @ (150) diff.
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 21:02:05 ]
Unfortunately, the bounty is unofficial. The gangers that live in this part of Gearhead are barely worth the blaster cells to kill them. However, as Sumi's eyes scan at the faces, her quick inventory leaves her with a dilemma: There's no Zabrak here, let alone a middle aged female Zabrak. Tamara's taken on a new identity, but she's *here*.
Somewhere in the whorl of low-lives that peer out from the low-light. Their numbers gravitate at a central point: the bar. There's four sat in a tight cluster, where the roughhousing clearly avoids. Two bothan men, a female twi'lek, and what looks to be a chiss in ill-fitting clothing-- Hard to get a good look at a glance.
[ Sumi Kora (Sumi) | 21:05:34 ]
Sumi steps by the gang members with an intimidating confidence that says, without saying: 'Rekk around and find out.' Blood or not, the warrior is unfazed by both the display of violence, and the overwhelming presence of enemy acquisitions. Moving inside, she begins scanning the crowd, her hardware coming into play at this moment. Sumi's helmet was outfitted with a state of the art Bounty Hunters' Guild scanner, an interface that allowed facial recognition and scanning.
The interface connects to a wireless signal that's picked up by two, alert feline ears atop the Mandalorian's helmet. Unfortunately, the scans come back with only minor bounties, and none that align with the acquisition they're out to get. Her observation identifies a large cluster of people at the bar. She closes the distance, arriving near the Chiss with ill-fitting clothing.
<"Buy me a drink."> She says, voice slightly dull when announced over her helmet's vocoder.
[ Hadrix Kora (Had) | 21:10:05 ]
<"When it starts, it won't be pretty. It won't be 'honorable'. I fight to win. If you're in a fair fight, your tactics suck."> Hadrix rumbles, his vocalizer distorting his permanent growl. Rasping and seeming to coil where he hunkers. The visor of his helm centering on the entrance of the bar. <"This isn't a world for your type. But I'll show you how to fight and how to live...">
Even if he isn't quite instructing her in the ways of the Manda. There's methodology for fighting she can gain here that she can't elsewhere.
The big man keeps waiting, all the while. Patient, seething. Ready to be released from the proverbial chain he is straining against like an akk-dog trying to get loose. Anticipation mixing with building fury and an elation as his body begins working on psychological triggers. Adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin... all flooding into his bloodstream.
[ Lira'una (Lira) | 21:17:15 ]
Lira can sense the potent cocktail of emotions and chemicals surging through Hadrix. It's a world away from the calm, meditative mindset she's been trained to adopt in stressful situations. Yet, it's also fascinating in its own way -- this raw, unbridled, primal reaction to impending danger.
"I understand," she murmurs, her soft voice natural, unmarred by vocalizers or modulators, her eyes still scanning the entrance. "Every warrior has their own method, and I appreciate you sharing yours with me."
A short, silent pause hangs between them. Then, with a light sigh, she adds, "For better or worse, I guess there will always be lines my type won't cross.. a hope for peace that we can never really give up on. But I don't want to be ignorant to the rest of the galaxy."
She feels the tension in the air, the imminent sense of something about to erupt. And in this calm before the storm, she steels herself for whatever is about to unfold. Lira might not possess Hadrix's raw physicality, but she has her training, her connection to the Force, and her conviction.
"If you're right, and this isn't a world for my type," she says softly, almost to herself, "then maybe it's a world that needs my type."
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 21:27:14 ]
The flash of thrusters. Speeder-squeals peel through the air itself. Robe-clad figures land just across the street from the Rancor Ultraviolence. Lira'una and Hadrix are witness to something strange: humanoids, gathered in a group of six, dash across the street to the bar itself. They spread out in pairs. In each pair, one bears a shoddy pistol and stands guard...
While the other begins assembling something against opposing walls. The familiar red-flash of an unarmed explosive. Their swoopbikes painted in a strange violet sigil.
As Yxuara manages his way through the vents, the blades do little to stop him. They're able to be stopped just by touching them or nudging them to the side, not enough strength behind them to make Squib-paste. It's been retrofitted-- Sleeping bags and handheld lights. Broken datapads. Though there's evidence of life up there... He doesn't see anyone pointing a blaster at him yet. And once he crosses over a specific vent cover...
"Do I *look* like--" The Chiss, revealed to be a woman by pitch of voice, looks over to Sumi as though to silence a patron that's asked this question before. But she's stopped dead in her tracks. Red eyes going wide from beneath her wraps.
"Zakk, get our mando-friend here... Whatever you call that scop-drek you *generously* call liquor." The Chiss says through gritted teeth-- Grinding from stress at the sight of a Mandalorian-- One of Sumi's presence, "You come to pledge?"
It almost gets a laugh out of the Bothan duo. They almost look to be twins. But they're silenced by themselves the moment they look at Sumi. The Twi'lek turns a new shade of pale mint green, not even speaking, eyes glancing behind the bar, and up at something...
Yxuara can catch a glance of the Twi'lek looking *right* up at the vent cover he's passing, seeming to not notice him. Not yet.
[ Yxuara (yus) | 21:44:25 ]
Yxuara has come across a tidy little nest up here in the bar--not so much a safehouse as a flop house as he takes a few moments to collect the broken electronics gear before advancing further on, prybar casually tucked back into the wrap on his shoulder. With the sounds and noises coming below, he almost cringes as the echoes coming up from the vents.
Yxuara's bright blue eyes remain wide and brazen as he stares down through the vent at the party going on below. He sees the Twi'lek. He's certain by the new shade of color he's been seen. A Squib. In the vents. Yxuara casually picks up one of the discarded bulbs from nearby--some cheap liquor that resembles more polish than anything--and takes a drink. As vermin he is invisible, she might be looking right at him but doesn't really 'see' him.
Sumi's intimidation roll is an attempt at using a challenge to Tamara's power to draw her out.
[PASS ( +33)] Sumi Kora's Intimidate @ (100) diff.
[ Sumi Kora (Sumi) | 21:55:14 ]
Sumi broadcasts the conversation over comms, <<"Pledge? No. -- I have come to accept pledges of fealty. This 'club' bears /my/ sigil, and occupies /my/ territory. Crossing the Mando'ade is a death sentence. Bearing /my/ sigil is a death sentence. Pledging to me absolves those of such calumnies -- I offer it but once. Then?">>
Sumi trails off a moment, glancing over the bar, its patrons, and surrounding life. <<"Then.. the bell tolls, and I collect my due.">>
[ Hadrix Kora (Had) | 21:57:40 ]
<<"Someone else is about to make a door. Gang war I expect.">> speaking directly over comms now, watching the swoopers setting up at the wall, there's a grin in the feral sounding voice and when Hadrix speaks again it's on his externals in a much more subdued volume, <"You need to watch for opportunities as well.">> nodding towards the other swoop gangers.
<"Any enemy is a tool.">
Listening to Sumi's broadcast and he rises to start across the street, his krayt scale cape calling over his left arm and hob nailed boots scraping over the duracrete, practically inviting challenge as he goes.
[ Lira'una (Lira) | 22:20:53 ]
Lira watches the unfolding scene, her fingers subtly brushing the grip of her blaster hidden beneath her robes. The energy of the street changes dramatically with the newcomers and their explosive setup. Hadrix's words ring in her ears, challenging her to see beyond her teachings, to adapt to the environment they find themselves in.
But Lira's strength has always been her connection to the Force. Her instincts scream at her to jump into action, but she resists the impulse. Instead, she breathes deeply and lets the Force flow through her, reaching out to sense the intentions of the newcomers -- preparing as best she can to anticipate their reactions.
As Hadrix strides forth, the ever-present embodiment of confrontational energy, Lira tries a different tactic. She moves in a parallel path, choosing not to engage directly, but positioning herself where she can intervene swiftly if the situation escalates. If Hadrix was headed towards one of the duos, she was headed towards another, her eyes darting from the gang members to the explosives, calculating distances and strategies.
"They're tools alright," the young Twi'lek murmurs, still striding towards her little group.
"Hey!" she calls. One lavender hand lifts to pull her hood back, to reveal her face and the lekku that seem to naturally slither out onto her back. For better or worse, this little Twi'lek would probably never be rolling Intimidate to get her way. "You guys aren't part of the Kjaari gang, are you? You look /way/ too well equipped to be part of that trash..."
Yxuara rolls Knowledge: Streetwise for passive knowledge.
[PASS ( +46)] Yxuara's Knowledge: Streetwise @ (80) diff.
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 22:34:02 ]
The moment Hadrix begins to cross the street, one of the hunched figures lurch to look over at the crossing man. Bearing nothing but a blaster, the Ithorian approaches, barking out warnings in his native tongue as he approaches. Eyes dilated. The other two raise their attention from their bomb- wielding wards. Eyes hardening at the sight of Hadrix. They're well beneath his grade, but they aim their blasters at him once their cohort alerts that there might be trouble.
Thankfully, no-one inside the club heard any of this, the music's too loud. The other three-- The saboteurs-- Manage to arm the charges. But it takes time to calibrate it to the detonators.
Lira'una is given a confused look, distracting one of the guarding gangers. Their threat assessment seems trained on Hadrix. Another warning is barked out by the Ithorian, who slightly aims his blaster Lira'una's way: clearly stating to Hadrix and company his committment to this.
"... Easy, Gonba." One of the guards gestures to the Ithorian, "You didn't hear it from me, but you two oughtta get outta here before... Things get ugly. We're reposessing the joint. No need for you to get invovled." He flashes a dazzling, used-sandspeeder salesman smile... To extremely limited effect.
"Aye, boss." The chiss raises both brows and laughs to Sumi, but she hesitates from sticking to her allegiances. The Bothan near Sumi and her gets up, and begins making his way, practically with his tail between his legs, towards the door. The Twi'lek grips the edge of the bar.
"I haven't *seen* Tamara around... But you should *definitely* talk to her." The Chiss' lips curl into a smile that's more like as lit cut into a rubber sheet, "We could do with some... Strong, leadership."
Digging around a bit, a datapad flits to life near Yxuara. In hasty typing, bordering on illiterate, something's... Laid out. It's a ledger. Credits being transferred. The name of a clinic, an offworld freighter, and... Payments to the 'Yazudai'. An unfamiliar name. Six payments in total to different entities.
It takes a bit of time. A glance to a nearby bag in the vents. It's a bug-out kit. The payment log he's found is contracting a service. It's then, that the term 'Yazudai' clicks: a gang associated with a striking, serrated sigil, in violet.
>Acceptable losses: property and life< is written at the very bottom of the datapad, reflected in Yxuara's eyes.
[ Yxuara (yus) | 22:51:59 ]
Yxuara's hackles rise after the chatter on the commlink, the Squib dropping the bulb of stale alcohol and going on high alert. <<What? She's not here?>> his voice pipes over the com-link, exasperated more at the idea of all his haggling and dealing for information failing to make any headway in the investigation.
"<<maybe--someone check the bathrooms?>>" Yxuara is intrigued as the datapad flashing to life next to him, spilling its guts with some juicy information. The corner of his lips lift in a smile as he reports, <<"I got something worth looking at, up here! Someone left their stash.">> Being savvy, Yxuara will copy the datapad info onto his own device before it vanishes.
[ Sumi Kora (Sumi) | 22:55:38 ]
<<"As proof of your fealty, bring Tamara to me.">> Sumi says, head tilting slightly at the incoming transmissions. Sumi trusts her intuition despite the claim Tamara is not there. Sumi's visor turns toward the Chiss, meeting their gaze with the mirrored visor; they're awarded with their own reflection.
[ Hadrix Kora (Had) | 22:57:07 ]
As he nears the ones turning to face and confront, the Massive Mandalorian's right hand turns so that the blade forged of pure beskar turns to reflect what light there is to be caught in the street. The silvery metal glimmering and Hadrix's vocalizer engages allowing him to emit a rumbling sound. A growl. A liquid sound raising from the depths of his chest.
He doesn't speak. But the message is clear: get out while you can.
All the warning he deigns to give before the Boar Wolf of Ealor comes to a stop. Enough space for him to take them all in, calculating, studying the explosives placed. Studying how they stand, are armed, how they carry themselves.
Still no words from him though. No words, no fear. Fear is for the enemy. Fear and bullets.
Lira'una states her intent to Affect Mind the saboteurs.
[PASS ( +15)] Lira'una's Affect Mind @ (100) diff.
The saboteurs are unwilling to change course. They've been paid handsomely and they need the creds.
[FAIL ( -56)] Rival Gang Saboteurs (25389)'s 52 @ (115) diff.
[ Lira'una (Lira) | 23:03:46 ]
Lira doesn't let the subtle threat deter her. Instead, she takes a step closer, making sure to keep her hands visible and non-threatening. She locks her eyes with the ganger who'd spoken, her expression soft yet intense.
She takes a slow, deep breath, reaching out with the Force, her voice calm and melodic. "Those explosives are going to kill you and all your friends. You /need/ to stop them from being armed. Hurry. Don't let any of them go off."
The Force weaves around her words, attempting to plant seeds of urgency in the guard's mind -- to twist his perception of the situation so that he's on the side of /saving/ lives rather than taking them. It may not be the warrior's way, full of violence, force, and bloodshed, but it was the Jedi way... an attempt to circumvent both a fight with the gang and their own destructive tendencies in one fell swoop.
Tamara, revealed to be the Twi'lek at the bar, having stole her new body's identity, prematurely sets off the charges and attempts to use the chaos to escape into the vents.
[PASS ( +33)] Tamara Chrys (6129)'s 89 @ (100) diff.
[ Zypha (Zyp) | 23:13:06 ]
"... It's not worth it." The Yazudai ganger, completely unaware of his forcibly changed mind, concedes. He looks over to his posse, the Ithorian confused as he lets out a whistle, "Not worth it! Pack your drek-- We're done."
The saboteurs ease. Looking up from their hunched over labors, confused, but agreeable. Lira'una and Hadrix can clearly see their hands moving away from any visible detonator. "*Finally*." The chiss lets out a groan of relief, "Someone who can get *drek* done. She's right--" Her finger raises.
Click.
A rumble. A blast. Light, pouring from inside. Rubble shot out from a newly blossomed trio of explosions. It tears the saboteurs closest to the bombs into pieces. The front structure almost crumbling in on itself. The crowd within erupts in chaos, screams and yelling, piercing the now distorted music.
Blasters raise in either direction, drugged out, frenzied, quick to single out Sumi in the fog. The body of the chiss nearest to her pinned to the ground by structural shrapnel.
And that Twi'lek... Where did she go?
Yxuara hears it all go to drek. Feels it. It's the end of times in that Vent. But it holds. The vent cover pops out, and a body scrambles up the ledge of it, coughing up debris, lekku scraping against the top of the vent shaft itself. She hoists herself, and reaches out for something she's expecting--
Only for her bleary eyes to meet with Yxuara. Makeshift detonator in her hand.
