Log:Knights of Ren: Ring of Kafrene

Ring of Fire

OOC Date: April 28 2020
Location: The Ring of Kafrene
Participants: Knights of Ren: Errod Zand, Iollan Canem, Domino Graystorm, Sebek, Syrus, Erisi Auslese, and Malik Ren as GM

The short story: The Knights chase down a saboteur and a missing droid, torn between havoc and being good.

The long story:

[Malik Ren]

Nothing enters or leaves Spearhead without clearance and observation. An unexplained shuttle launch is cause for concern - and open fire. This particular stolen Xi-class shuttle was assaulted by TIEs upon launch, but despite heavy damage, withstood the onslaught long enough to hit hyper. Before it vanished, remote scanning and data specialists on the RSD Merciless were able to determine two things: There was one life form on board, and its navcomp data revealed it was headed to the Ring of Kafrene.

Shortly after this, the operations teams reported that a droid is missing, a First Order issue BB unit, and more worryingly: An unauthorized copy of the data from the lab on Felucia was made, by an Ensign Sri Vodun, who definitely had no business doing that. Copied into a BB unit. Thus begins the chase to recover the saboteur and the missing droid from the Ring of Kafrene, before they end up in the wrong hands.

---

For those who want to get lost, the Ring of Kafrene is an ideal labyrinth in which to do it. This mining colony/trading outpost is made of a constantly-changing array of makeshift shelters and shanty towns, with streets and buildings that change structure and location often. Maps are no good here.

The nearly-destroyed Xi shuttle is easy to spot upon arrival. Within, there is no droid, no Ensign Sri Vodun, but there is a large series of blood splatters leading out. Scavengers are already at work here, and perhaps these be-goggled, cloth-wrapped people could be questioned before they bolt. There is one old human man with a long beard, and a young, thin Cathar female.

[Errod Zand]

The black garments he wears hide his identity behind a plate of plain durasteel, though some say his personality and the mustache beneath are so strong they can be sensed anyway. Wide, red-rimmed eyes, perpetually hungover and strung out, stare from the slits in his helmet as Errod heads towards the shuttle, the weapons strapped all over his body indicating that he means to be prepared for any funny business.

"You two," the raspy voice grates when he comes closer, not putting a hand on any of those various weapons just yet. "I would like a word. I don't want this pile of junk, you're welcome to it. But you could save me some time, and I'd be grateful for it. Grateful in more than just words, if you catch my meaning."

[Iollan Canem]

Iollan had been quiet on the ride over. He tended to fade out a bit, once he put the helmet on. Less rakish spacer, more imposing tower of dark-grey and red, shadowing behind a few of the more prominent members -- tonight was most clearly no exception. As they arrived on the scene, he maintained the easy slope of his walk, hand on the blaster still holstered by his side. Well, this certainly looked like a crime scene. Fine.

As Errod takes the lead, Lan makes his lazy stole into a bit of a flanking manoeuvrer, just to keep an eye on these two closest. While his voice doesn't add anything, the general sense of his body-language is that runners get shot. Survivors get shot again. You know how it goes.'

[Domino]

Domino follows the others, dark-visored helm swivelling a bit. She lets the others focus on the survivors and begins to circle the wreckage, looking for any indication of which direction the droid or any other walkaways may have gone, her pace slow and unhurried as her gaze combs the surroundings.

[Sebek]

A rapid deployment did not grant time towards changing one's outfit. Having been still wearing his weird CNG-plating-over-cassock getup and lounging around without The Pelt of Arrikkata over his shoulders, Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, He Who Hunts had basically picked up his sword, a few knives, and legged it. His earrings jingled, his rings jangled, his topknot fwipped, and his makeup didn't even crease. Perf.

One of the things the Falleen kept forgetting about is that he had this magical mystical power he could tap into at almost-will. Being nearly eighty years old, his ways were set, and a new tool could be often forgot about in favour of the old standby of sharp implement. But, after yesterday, tracking the Beast of Ko Hentota and being befuddled by an acolyte, of all things, maybe he'd learned something. He took a deep sniff and opened his mind, and rather than welcoming the knowledge brought about by the Force, he pulled from his surroundings that this was not a place to drop one's guard. "It is thought we should make haste," the velvety voice warned. "Behold Kafrene, the dregs. Threat lurks everywhere, quietly."

[Syrus]

Sticking to the back of the group as they walk is Syrus Volo, his armor concealing the devastating handsomeness behind it.

With the pair of looters firmly handled by Errod and his indecent proposal, Syrus glides past the duo on his way to get a closer look at the be-draggled ship.

Something catches the big man's eye, and he moves to crouch down, his hand plucking up a nearly-destroyed datapad. It's barely operational, but he does manage to pull up an entry, eyes scanning it behind his visor. Standing, he'll toss the thing to the side and turn to look at the scavengers Errod's addressing. "Arjun Ardanna. Who is that? Where can I find them?"

[Erisi]

Erisi does not enjoy getting lost. But if one employs a healthy sense of never being lost and being exactly where they need to be, you'll still be lost. Just stupid and lost. Erisi does not enjoy being stupid and lost. So, upon landing and exiting the ship she had looked around, hands tucked into the handy pockets of her fancy robes as she kicked off towards the shuttle, letting Errod do his thing with charming the locals.

Her focus is instead the ship itself, right hand lifting out from her pocket as she meanders around the shuttle in a slow swaying sort of way, red-brown gaze drifting along blood spatters and the like, Eri dropping down into a crouch on a particularly crumpled airlock door to reach out with the organic hand to touch fingertips upon blood and metal, left hand untucking so she can idly sort out her robes around her feet.

Beneath her hood eyes will close, chin lifting up slightly as she allows fingertips to gently thrum, feeling, sensing, viewing a story within her minds eye, "Something, or someone, attacked our Ensign upon her arrival here. I can't tell ..if it was ...inside the ship upon landing, or after she exited. She ..." A lengthy pause, head tilting back as she rocks forwards in her crouch, soft gasp drifting from lips as her eyes open, enjoyment or horror unreadable with her hood up, "She was surprised, and shocked by whatever came upon her ...and scared. If she's not dead yet she's on the brink of death unless someone has come to their aid." Who. The hell. Is she sharing this information with. Rising up slowly she'll peer over a part of the wreckage to look at Sebek, "We may meet the same fate as her if we're not careful." In agreement with the angry green man, both hands darting in against fabric of her robes along her hips as she moves to give space to the two eloquent men questioning the locals.

[Malik Ren]

Malik isn't here. He trusts you guys implicitly, you tag team of competent, worldly professionals that you are.

The scavengers /are/ here, shrinking back in fear from the group - they're a scary looking bunch, all bristling with weapons, faces hidden behind black masks! The human man shakes his head and tries to speak, but all that comes out is a hoarse, bleat, and he points with shaking hands toward his tongue - it's been cut.

This leaves the Cathar to answer the Knights, though she doesn't seem to be happy about it, clutching a power coupling and holding it close to her chest like a holy amulet of protection. "What do you want to know?" she asks Errod suspiciously in a soft voice, before looking to the others. "Your person in this shuttle.... you are right, she is dead, or will be soon. Arjun Ardanna owns this section of the Ring, for here, for now. He's a Rodian. He has followers. He hurt your person. If you try to take from him, he will hurt you too. You are best to forget this here, forget what you came for, anything that comes to the ring, anyone that comes to the ring, they are gone."

[Errod Zand]

You can't really blame them. Errod wasn't expecting much in the way of intel from the pair, but even so, when one of them reveals the severed tongue, he deflates slightly even through the armor. "Where can I find Arjun Ardanna? Where are his people? You're right about what is best, but the galaxy does not accommodate what is best. Only what is. And what is, is you will tell me what I want to do know, or we will hurt you, and you will forget about Arjun Ardanna and all the moments of your meaningless existence spent fearing him will vanish into the great regret of those you never had time to fear."

[Iollan Canem]

As it turns out, there's little need to ply some good old fashion detective efforts onto the scene when your coworkers can read through time with their brains. How annoying.

As answers come forth, Iollan leaves the interrogation in Errod's most capable hands. He instead makes himself at least a little useful by moving over to where the other Knights are not yet trampling about; the garish blood splatters traced out of the crash sight. With an eye still kept on the few milling scavengers around the place, Lan begins the steady pace of finding exactly where the injured pilot went.

It's difficult though -- more so than he might have imagined. The area is grimy and rife with all sorts of foot traffic, and though the scene isn't that old, in a few long strides from the ship, the trail bleeds out into the mud. For a few moments he stays there, at the end of the foreseeable path, going so far as to drop into a crouch as something catches his eye.

Rather delicately, a gloved hand reached out to pluck one broken, tarnished locket from the muck. A thumb pops it open as Lan stands, glancing back to the group. Someone else better have a direction.

[Domino]

Domino kneels and extends a finger to poke at a bit of ground then rises and paces off towards an alley, << "Found a blood trail, Sebek or Stud nuggets wanna follow me to investigate?" >> She's already pacing that way, wisdom not being a virtue she often ascribes to though she does ease her blaster from it's holster.

[Sebek]

Rodian! "Ptuh!" That was a glob of spit that hit the ground from Sebek's mouth. Rodian! Oh boy you didn't need to be human to be racist. Sorry Domino, Sebek was too busy racisting to listen. "Answer his questions, whelp!" demanded the now wide-mouthed wide-eyed Falleen, in a controlled version of losing his temper. "Or I will be the one to partake upon your flesh! For this," he gestured to Errod, "is He Who Cares, and your alternative interrogator is me!"

[Syrus]

Making his way back over to the group of Knights, he watches the Cathar suspiciously as she reveals their new quarry to be a crime lord. His hands move to his hips and he watches silently, as his player makes some dinner.

[Erisi]

"You know, if we mess with his things enough, I bet he'll come to us like he did to our little defector. It sorta sounds like ...he's pretty keen on taking his pound of flesh, so ..Let's mess with his shavit." Suggested as she follows after Domino, not possessing of the qualities that would constitute a stud nugget nor a Sebek, but posessing of the ability to mess with other folks.

"You know, Domino, I bet I could light something on fire and draw him out, let's find something that looks like it has some worth."

Picking her way across to that alley way, features lighting up with the idea and hands held at the ready just in front of her bosoms with fingers flexed in anticipation of all the things she can wreck, "Ooooh, I wonder if he has a speeder I can torch." It's the small things in life that keep it interesting.

[Malik Ren]

To his credit, the old man with the cut tongue seems to be trying to shield his little Cathar buddy, though both of them are quaking under the inquiry of these strange, hostile, black-clad strangers. They're clearly torn between how afraid they are of the Knights, and how afraid they are of this Arjun person, seeing that both might end with them sharing a grisly fate with Sri Vodun.

"The Eight Legged Lady," the Cathar whispers. Her pupils are dilated into large, frightened black circles, and her short fur is standing on end, as though calling back to some long-ago time when Cathar were well served by making themselves appear a little larger. "The Eight Legged Lady." She doesn't elaborate - she and her companion exchange frightened glances, and then bolt. They run like creatures of prey, quickly vanished into hiding-holes.

Into the alley where the blood drops lead, the source of the blood is readily apparent: the body of poor Sri Vodun is here, slashed ear to ear across the throat and with a few other wounds as well. She looks surprised. Poor stupid Sri Vodun, she shouldn't have betrayed the Knights and the First Order, and if she was going to do that, she really shouldn't have trusted her future to the Ring of Kafrene. Her corpse is accompanied by the bottom half of a BB droid, black, dented and cracked, the top helm ripped off -- where the data was stored, surely. No one seems to care about this dead human.

Several Rodians perch nearby on a speeder, smoking vape-sticks and looking cool (dumb) like Rodians always do. Nearby, there seems to be a door to a seedy establishment...

[Errod Zand]

It's hard to miss the body of Sri Vodun, renegade data thief and dead body. Errod homes in on her, following the trail of blood with ease, and crouches over the woman's corpse, shoving two fingers under her bloody ear. "Dead," he announces in his customary grate, looking over the woman's remains. "Another life puffs out into oblivion, extinguished like a flame pinched between your fingers. Was it ever real to begin with, now that it's reduced to a spit of ash? Just a smear of soot wiped away and forgotten. Who's to say that tongue of orange ever existed at all?"

His gloved fingertips push her eyelids down, and he rises upright again, not bothering to wipe the blood from his hands. "It comforts me to think that I will one day vanish so completely." The slits in the helmet don't make for great viewing, and he's forced to turn his head towards the shady establishment nearby, gaze lingering on a spot on the far wall. "This is the Eight Legged Lady." He pauses thoughtfully, perhaps considering his next rant, but instead he just shrugs and says, "I wonder what kinda eight-legger the lady is."

[Iollan Canem]

They proceed, as they are wont to do, and by dint of great team work and information gathering, they find -- ding ding -- A Dead Body! Lucky them. And that body is very dead, and very unhelpful in equal measure. Inside the confines of his helmet, Lan lets out a slow, weary sigh.

Off to the side, the more vital of the apparent denizens of this festering planet do take his interest though. Much better than whatever his companions were bound to do with this corpse. Angling that way, he strolls on up to the speeders, a comfortable pace away.

"Evening, lads," hums along, distorted mechanically by the vocalization of his helmet. A look passes over the Rodians, much as it can be seen from behind the dark glass, as he goes on. They don't seem... receptive. Damn. "Arjun Ardanna -- where can we find her?"

His hand stays on the hilt of his blaster. This probably only goes one way.

[Domino]

Domino kneels beside the slain woman << "Well I found the woman and the droid and I'm pretty sure I've clocked sentries. OR maybe just loiters cause I don't know what I'm doing." >> Not that it stops her from giving a quick once over of both the body and droid before she rises and looks to the Rodians, jerking a thumb to the corpse behind her "You seen her or she still around for a chinwag? I need to settle up." she pats a pouch on her thigh like this was all standard business nevermind her other friends dressed in black like she is.

[Sebek]

Rodians! More of them! "Is this a nest of these foul creatures?" hissed the hilariously racist Falleen. He was definitely in the right company, and his hands were making sure his pointy throwing implements were stowed safely away in his pockets. There was a wealth of information here to be gleaned by simply looking, such as the establishment, the corpse, the droid, but unfortunately it was very very possible to be blinded by hatred. "Observe the Rodian, She Who Ignites," he said to Erisi, gesturing towards the vapestick hipster aliens of which there were more than one so Sebek was clearly generalizing, not even bothering to hide his disdain. "Their meat, poison. To partake is to cause irreparable harm to the refresher." Pause. "Both ends."

He let that tidbit linger.

"Come, She Who Ignites. Let us converse with," shout at, "the detritus." Having done plenty of talking about, Sebek was now ready to do some talking /to/. "You, whelp!" he hissed, baring teeth at a different group of Rodians to the ones presumably offended (as if a Rodian could be offended with their tiny brains) by the attempts of He Who... Sebek would figure that out later. "Arjun Ardanna. Speak all, or share her impending fate!" Well it couldn't be eating them, because...

[Erisi]

Erisi gets a crash course in which aliens are edible, and which aren't. She follows along with Sebek, if only to get in on his techniques for scaring the bejeesus out of folks, or scurring them, as he did with Syrus the day before. It was IMPRESSIVE.

Robes swish along the dirty alleyway ground, hands still at the ready though they come to a rest on her hips as she tries to look casually upon that speeder the Rodians are leaning upon, gaze shifting to eye the Rodians. Eeny, meeny, miney, moe ..catch a rancor by it's toe, if it hollars let it go, eeny meeny, miney, moe -- Just as Sebek says they'll all share the fate of Arjun Ardanna, mis-gendered Lord of this part of the ring, "Do as he says." Said in agreement with Sebeks' threat as she raises both hands up and urges the cars molecules to vibrate wildly together until FWAM. The cars upholstery suddenly catches alight and a fire begins to burn within the speeder itself. Ah, who needs words when you have the flames, "Oh I hope this is that Arjun fellows speeder, that would just make my day." Said as an aside to Sebek as she stands with him, smile bright as hands then raise to tug back her hood so they can see her delighting in her handiwork, and also so she can see it all clearly.

[Malik Ren]

There are no clues for Errod regarding what species the Eight Legged Lady is. Is he sure he wants to know?

As for Iollan, his attempt to make nice with the Rodians doesn't seem to be very successful, they laugh, and it sounds like someone farting into one of those plastic recorders you had to play in school. Fweefweefweefwee. "Ladth?" echoes one Rodian with a lisp, "We're not ladth, we're LADIETH," the admittedly very male-appearing Rodian replies, leering at Iollan. "And Arjun Ardanna ith a MALE." They laugh again. Fweefweefwee.

They seem more friendly(?) to Domino, and one tilts her Rodian punk head at the sign Errod spotted. "Arjun ownth the Lady, dumbath," the Rodian says, before... oh no. Oh no! Sebek! "Hey," one whistle-whines, shrinking back from him. "We aren't trying to thtart trouble, Papi... Arjun owns the Lady, go in there..."

Maybe they had more to say and maybe they didn't, but then the speeder is ON FIRE. ON FIRE! The Rodians react like anyone would, which is distress, panic, and immediate concern about their debt structure. "That'th not paid for!" one panics. "I thtill owe the Hammerhead at the Pipe!" Slappy slappy, weird suction finger Rodian hands slap sadly at the car fire until it's clearly futile, and these black clad strangers are clearly scary, and their tiny Rodian brains are melting down. They run off away from the alley wailing "Eeeeaaaaaaaa!" like sad warbley little sirens, and then the door to the Eight Legged Lady is clear.

[Malik Ren]

The Eight Legged Lady is an awful place. From the first moment of entrance, it's clear that this is an awful place. Dancers on lifts gyrate under light-shows, around poles, for the amusement and titillation of a crowd that makes Ko Hentota look reasonable and responsible. Sad looking individuals of varying species are lined up along the edges of the room under oversight of a bouncer, collars in place, clearly ready to be bought and sold. Their eyes look even deader than Sri Vodun's did.

At a prominent booth with a good view of the stage and the dancers on their lifts, there sits a Rodian. Nothing about him seems very unusual; he's dressed somewhat flashy but not as much as he could be. It's everyone else's position relative to him that gives the clues -- a number of thugs, Rodian and otherwise, a couple of Twi'lek honeys under his arms. Everyone looking to him, deferring. This has to be Arjun Ardanna, apparent buyer of information, apparently someone who murders random humans before chilling with his side-Twis at the club.

[Errod Zand]

Errod enters the Eight Legged Lady with the sound and fury of a stormcloud, which is to say he sort of wafts in looking all grey and gloomy and vaguely ominous. It's the grey outfit and the weapons. He heads immediately towards the booth near the rear, irrespective of the atmosphere inside, ignoring the number of bouncers in the room and the various shady characters who doubtless mean trouble if crossed. "It's Katunda," he says by way of greeting as he arrives in the vicinity, holding up his bloody palm. "I don't drink on Katundas." The mask looks like it'd be hard to drink at all without removing it, and he hasn't.

"I'm here on purpose. The blood on this hand, it speaks to me in a voice clearer than any mortal language or tongue. I would wipe it away but to do so would not silence it. The blood on this hand," and now the hand is held high into the air, his grinding voice growing in volume, "it screams in the hallways of my mind. It echoes and rings against the inner cavities of this tortured /skull/ and proclaims that what was mine was taken. The wrath brought down on the head of Sri Vodun's head was mine to inflict, and no other." The bloody finger points at Arjun. "Give to me what she carried, and I will bear the blood-madness alone. Deny me and you will hear its voice as well."

[Iollan Canem]

It's a blessing he has a mask on. The drawn, tight note of absolute antipathy on the detective's handsome face is shielded from sight as they all file in. Yes, he knows this sort of place. Yes, he also has some sort of idea how this is most likely going to end. You don't march a half dozen black-clad nightmares into a some hole in the wall like this and end up with business cards and a promise to check in next week.

Someone is going to shot first. Errod is already doing some jcked up shit off to the side, and it's only a matter of time before one of the other's ignites a lightsaber. As the tower of a Knight steps in, continues stepping in towards the center of the room a bit in front of the others, the blaster comes out of its holster, though remains pointed down, for now. Without a clear target yet, he maintains a position nearest to the middle of the room as he can be, scanning visibly for the first sight of a drawn weapon. Someone is /absolutely/ going to shoot first, and it might be him.

[Domino]

Domino gently steps forward, interposing herself between the men and the Boss Rodian, "Woah, woah, woooah! Take it easy...we're all businessfolk here, right?" She moves to lean casually nearby "Sorry about my friends. They walk in here, see a dangerous figure, get a lil jumpy. They're not the patient sorts either so how about you give us what you took so I can get my friends out of our hair and then maybe you can tell me the story of Arjun over a round, my treat?"

[Sebek]

Sebek sniffed. The Force filled him, and from it he snatched the information that he so sought. Dispensing with the shouting and the screaming and the oy vey he'd normally indulge in, he glanced around at denizens of the room. Four particular individuals got more than a passing glance, maybe instead they got a once-over. Scoping. "Four," he murmured to the assembled group. "All here, boisterous, belligerent, but four, specifically so."

[Syrus]

Guys, this is absolutely not Syrus's vibe. Who would've thought, right? The Kiffar is woefully uncomfortable surrounded by the UNDULATING cage women, and it would be readily apparent if it weren't for his helmet. His eyes finally fall on the Rodian gangster, a frown twisting onto his lips as he watches him. The big man's hand rests on his saber.

[Erisi]

This is totally Erisi's vibe. SO HER VIBE. She had been laughing on their way into the bar, the way the Rodians ran screeing about their not yet paid off speeder tickled her so, "MyEeeeaaaaaa!" Mockingly called over her shoulder as she passes the threshold from dirty alley into smut scented bar, smile wide, woman possessing of no helmet to hide her identity today, dark amusement playing over her features, "Ugh, they way they toot from their snoots, I love it."

Index finger of her right hand crooks under her eyes, wiping away laughing tears, lips pulled down as she tries to contain the giggles, all those gyrating and swaying bodies capturing her attention with a glance up, then off there, over to that way, "I drink on Katundas." Said in response to Errond before he goes to do his declaration like The Bride, calling out the Rodian Boss as she tippy toe dances her way to the bar, "Hi." Said oozingly as she steps up onto the rung of one stool to loft her short self and elbows onto the bar between two patrons.

"My friends are here and things are about to get ugly, so can I get like, a really good pour of something before you're forced to shut down for the night? Thaaaaaaanks." Beam, lookit her smile, a glance given over her shoulder to her 'friends', waiting for shavit to hit the fan.

[Malik Ren]

Errod is, you know... Erroding. That turns a few heads. A few resolutely do /not/ turn, and a few quietly slip out exits of the club -- perhaps feeling, as Iollan does, that it's only a matter of time before someone starts shooting, and they don't want to be here for it. Of the people who do notice Errod, however, is Arjun Ardanna. He doesn't seem intimidated, but he does seem interested, and holds up a suction-fingered hand to his four body guards, bidding them stay. He shoos away the Twi'lek honeys, who just wander off with a dull lack of curiosity in any of the proceedings. "It's not every day someone comes in here talking about blood madness," Arjun remarks. His voice is high and reedy but lacks the lisp of the Rodians outside. If anything, he sounds Tarisian.

Dom, now, Dom he seems to like, he can't see her face but she's just got a tone of voice he finds appealing! "If only I believed you, sweet thing," he replies, sounding amused. "I would like that very much, and so would you." It's hard to read Rodian facial expressions, but the starry-eyed face seems lost in happy contemplation of a Domino honey under his arm before he refocuses on the rest of this dangerous, unstable crew. "Normally I would have to ask you gentlebeings to be more specific," Arjun replies. "But I'm sure you mean the droid, don't you? I'm no fool, friends. Look at you here, now. That kind of thing is too hot to hold. I had a buyer for it before that human hit the Ring, and he is gone. With it, your black box. Me, I did not have to pay the thief, and I am already paid by the buyer... I am happy, I have no quarrel with you. This is your buyer." He presses a button on his table surface, and a holo slides into view, a man with almond shaped eyes, dark hair, and distinctive facial tattoos.

"You can catch him, if you hurry," Arjun suggests. "Or you can ruin my Lady," he gestures at the club, "While he gets back to his ship and away. Leave me and mine in peace, and I will call in what distractions I can to slow him."

[Errod Zand]

It's a tough call, really, and Errod is clearly torn by the split path offered to him. On the one hand, he's a reasonable person. On the other bloody hand, he just made a really good speech about it and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

The palm claps down on the plain metal face of his mask, leaving behind a red handprint. There's no rambling speech to explain why, he just turns and makes for the door at a quick pace, breaking into a run as he clears the door. THE CHOICE IS MADE FOR HE WHO CARES.

[Iollan Canem]

Damn, his trigger finger really is itching tonight. Maybe it's just the way this place smells, or the way people keep looking at them. Maybe it's just the people he came in with. At this point, it's hard to tell either way. But, overhearing Domino nearby, Lan spends one single, frozen moment in wrestling willpower.

One the one hand, blow this creepy slugs brains out here and now, and then make a runner for the starport.

On the other hand, take off without delay and do all they can to not loose their mission. It's a difficult coin flip.

"Frak this." It's barely anything, more of a growled exhale before the detective is turning on a heel. The blaster is jammed back into its holster and a few rangy strides have him back out the door they came in. Options, options-- there. The Rodians from before, so very unimpressed with him, are now privy to a headlong directional theft. Not asking, not even attempting civility, Lan shoulder-checks the nearest one on the way to hopping firmly onto the speeder, already making to gun the engine. Here we go, kids.

[Domino]

Domino siiighs, "Sorry, I can't control what these maniacs do-see you in another life!" She pivots and makes her way at a sprint but not out the FRONT door but looking for the BACK door cause-well it's Domino so it's probably just habit and the fact there's a kitchen and possibly locked back toward or irritated staff deters her not at all.

[Sebek]

You see, there would be nothing more satisfying right about now than going up and shishkebabbing the fella (woman?) that was clearly holding all the cards. Even Sebek, being short a king and a couple of twos, could see it was a bad idea. What OFFENDED him was having to take this inedible clown at his word. The Force danced around his mind and from within its rivers he plucked the same metaphorical fish he had already plucked. Nothing had changed, there was no danger beyond the norm where he was going, as his decision was already made.

But you see, Sebek was incapable of leaving without making a statement. In this case, it was literal. Pointing one talon'd digit at the Rodian, his velvety, accented voice oozed four words. "I know your face." It was a threat, a warning as to what would happen if this unpalatable scum were lying, and he wasn't far behind the retreating forms of He Who Cares, She Who Cajoles, and He Who... Investigates? No, that wasn't right.

[Syrus]

Oh, thank god. An excuse to get out of this bar with its piped in Aultur Brij. Turning and following after Errod, Sy's saber is unclipped from his belt, the man prepared for diplomacy.

[Erisi]

Erisi is so in love with this place, she has exactly zero intentions of burning it down. Having gotten her drink in a pretty dirty glass she'll bring it with her to wander to where the rest of the folks /were/, through the crowds of people until she's as close as she can get. A reverant smile betwixes upon her dark red lips, gaze firm upon the Rodian, his brutes and babes, "I /love/ what you've done with this place ..and the /slaves/? Those are just, so top notch." Her eyes widen as she sips from her maybe unused straw while holding the glass to her chest. Slurrrrrrrrrp. "Like, you can really tell that all their spirit is just gone, but I bet they have just enough to, you know, do what it'll take to just /be/." Lips move around the straw as she lets her cybernetic hand take over cup holding duty so she can gesture freely with the organic one, "I will /totally/ be back, and the dancers?" She mouths 'oh my gawwwd', knees bending as she sinks down an inch or so before bumping back up, "Soooooo tiiiggggght."

Erisi, Knight Envoy to the Sith Eternal, Second to Malik Ren, She who Ignites, slowly walks backwards, turning as she nudges into a few folks, having fangirled her little heart out, still taking everything in like a tourist, heading on out where the rest went, sipping on her drink, to the speeder. SO PROFESSIONAL.

[Malik Ren]

GET TO DA CHOPPAH. Or rather, the Speeder! Iollan's Rodian hipster friends scatter like ninepins hit by a bowling ball; none of them want to resist, they saw what happened to those other gals' unpaid speeder. There is some "eeeaaaaa!" wailing, but they don't protest! All of the Knights are able to pile in the speeder, weapons out, and race toward the starport!

There are no clear lanes of travel on the Ring of Kafrene. It's nothing but shanty towns and pop-up shady business, markets and merchants in slum streets that are ever changing. Thus this is not a smooth ride at all, with beings of all types and descriptions screaming and dodging out of the way, carts overturned and piles of terrible, wilted produce overturned by the aggressive driving.

They're able to make it to the spaceport, however, and it seems Arjun was true to his word -- they left the Lady alone, and he's caused a delay; a series of janky looking spaceport droids rolling over to unstoppably attempt unwanted "maintenance" to a freighter. Attempting to deal with this situation is the man from the holo, and several companions!

[Errod Zand]

The speeder careens onto the landing platform, and before it comes fully to a stop, Errod launches out of it, moving with a sort of precision born of a lifetime spent honing a handful of skills with unhealthy obsession. The blade on his back clears its restraints and crackles to life just before the plasma and sharpened fins smash into the side of a Bothan thug's head, leaving the poor fellow's face as bloody as Errod's mask. Almost before the blow has even audibly registered, the spiked end of the chain-whip punches forward, skewering organs and leaving the Knight standing with a Bothan kabob sizzling away. "The voice still echoes. What can cleanse this blood from my hand? Blood washes blood and blood still remains."

[Iollan Canem]

What a nightmare. What a damn stupid mission -- why had he let anyone else on this speeder? As they take another corner on a terrible, unsafe angle, his gloved hands white-knuckling the wheel, Lan keeps a steady mantra of silent derision in his head. What if he just missed the next turn? What if they didn't have to land on some greasy, wretched planet in the middle of nowhere ever again? Huh?

No time for that. Another topple fruit stand, another shrieking citizen, and suddenly they're careening into the starport at far about the recommended speed. There's the targets -- amazingly, being delayed. At least someone here was a gangster of his word.

One hand parts with the wheel as Iollan snatches the 44c from his belt, preforming the dangerous manoeuvrer of shooting across his vision while also slamming the decelerator, whipping the whole speeder around.

Sadly, he doesn't hit any of the intended targets, but at least one of his blaster bolts finds a new home. And, the speeder is well in range to whip all those melee combatants directly into the fray. It's like he planned it.

[Domino]

Domino is close to Iollan, perhaps she's anxious about someone being there if he gets shot, perhaps it's just to make use of one of his broad shoulders as a handy anchor as she lifts her weapon and squeezes two rapid shots before her sighs scan for the next target "Don't Crash us, Stud!"

[Sebek]

Given the choice between staying on mission and DELICIOUS CHANDRA-FAN, Sebek, against all odds and reason, stuck to the mission. Part of the noble goal of the Knights of Ren was to RIP AND TEAR through the allies of the doomed, so that they might see their hope dwindled and dashed. As his fellow Knights leaped into the fray, picking their targets, he focused his enmity towards the human that was presumably one of Tattooed Thief's companions.

Or she might not be, Sebek didn't really care.

As He Who... Speeds? Whatever. As the guy did his thing Sebek pulled a Frank Moses, except he did it at top speed. Crossing the distance at a sprint that would put a bolt to shame, he drove the blade into the flank of the woman, pulled it out, and left her a deep gash across her stomach. "Fall, He Who Betrays!" he bellowed at the tattooed man, not prescient enough to know his impending fate. "I would know of your PURPOSE!"

[Syrus]

Leaping from the speeder, Syrus sets his eyes on the guy who thinks he can get away with challenging the Kiffar to a 'coolest facial tattoo' contest. A slow march towards the man is followed by a wild swing that he leaps away from. Unfortunately for him, though, Syrus's next strike is aimed straight for the heart, the blade piercing through his back before it's harshly retrieved and he slumps to the ground. Syrus's blade is held at the defensive and his eyes look down at the dead tattooed man, trying to see if the location of the data is readily apparent.

[Erisi]

Erisi endured the ride as Lan whiteknuckled the speeder around the dangerous streets, cybernetic hand holding tight to a seat head-rest in front of her as she carefully kept her drink in hand to finish it off on the trip over. Giving the glass a toss out the side of the speeder she'll rise up out of her seat once it's come to a complete stop -- ohp, no.

Clutching TIGHT with her fake fingers in the doorframe she holds on as the speeder is WHIPPED around, bringing her closer in to the targets even though none were hit with the move. It was still cool. Still cool. Hopping out while unhooking her lightsaber from her belt she'll ignite it when booted feet touch the firm concrete of the spaceport floor, "WHEW, it's like you /planned/ that. Bad ass."

Breathed out as she whips her fake hand up to press her bangs back, wide grin for Iollan parted over a shoulder as she strides forwards into the fray, lightsaber gripped with both hands as she swings in to SLICE that Twi'lek through it's middle, feet sliding as she shuffles on over to the tiny little bat dude, swinging her lightsaber up from the ground to take it's head off, it's tiny little body crumpling down before it even has a chance to do much more than quiver it's four nostriled nose in anticipation of her.

"I am setting the ship on fire since I didn't get to hit the bar." Declared by Erisi as her weapon is lofted up once more in readiness, a glance given around to all the bodies that have fallen, "I was /good/." It's her prize.

[Malik Ren]

The Knights of Ren have admittedly had their share of trouble with certain monsters and other dangerous quarry, but these are not among that caliber of foe. These are standard rebels, mercenaries, criminals; spacers who dropped in to buy this stolen information and send it where it would do the most good, or make the most money. They are woefully unprepared for the onslaught that Arjun's stall bought them, gunned and cut down where they stand, still trying to get rid of the droids afflicting their ship with the unwanted procedures. Everyone else in the immediate vicinity has vanished into their own alleyways and bolt-holes, leaving the spaceport strangely empty.

Domino and Iollan murder the Duro, Errod, the Bothan. Sebek, Erisi, and Syrus cut up the Tattooed Man's friends, and that man himself - a satchel falls from his shoulder, strap cut by the saber blade. When it falls, the head of the droid rolls out, wires dangling, but precious data no doubt still intact. Easy to pick up, and take back to Spearhead.

The only one to survive the onslaught, barely, is the human girl -- watching her companions get murdered all around her before they even had a chance to draw, she chokes back sobs and drags her bleeding body into a ventilation pipe, to escape. Or to get sepsis and die. Or to get harvested for her organs and die. The Ring of Kafrene is full of entrepreneurs.

The spaceport remains still and quiet, the Night Buzzard perfectly intact and waiting, the droid in hand. The ship of their enemies is now empty and pointless, Arjun's distraction-droids still pointlessly carrying out their unnecessary tasks.

When it burns, it's a message to the Ring, and to the galaxy: We were here. We will not tolerate this. ....And we were good.