Log:Stop That Man!
Poe encounters some trouble on a shopping trip
OOC Date: March 6 2019
Location: Corellia
Participants: The Resistance, First Order: Poe Dameron, Grom, Drath, Karys, Oran Arcantael
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BlasTech Headquarters - Coronet City, Corellia: Drath and Karys bide time socializing with Grom and Resistance hero Poe Dameron while they wait for reinforcements to arrive!
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Potential Resistance High Value Target has been identified by DL-1991 on Corellia. DL-1991 ordered to hold position until Knight asset can arrive to assess the situation. Knight asset currently en route.
Be advised the HVT in question is believed to be Poe Dameron, rank presently unknown. Dameron is to be considered armed and dangerous. Exercise extreme caution....
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Drath nods, stepping over closer to Karys and Poe with the bottle extended. <<You're right, Kay Ess, best to gift it to someone who'll actually drink the shavit.>> he concurs, offering the bottle over to the man with a sharp bobbing of his black and red helmet. <<Why don't you both tell me a bit more about Pamarthe? I've not even the slightest clue as to which system it's in. I'd like to visit at some point. I'd heard Talus was similar for heavy drinks, and it turned out to be quite nice.>> If he had his helmet off, he'd be smiling, but he doesn't, and as such it's a bit hard to tell. <<Kriffing hard to find, that liquor. Got lucky on Nar Shaddaa finding it.>>
"No, BIGGER," Grom is instructing one of the Blastech employees, who has brought a holographic image projector to illustrate several large scale options for the Houk. "What could Grom shoot with such a puny weapon? Tiny splinning blue rodents??" Explained that the hologram is only a model of a much larger weapon, the Houk bellows, "BIGGER."
"Pamarthe, as a planet, is a test for pilots brave enough to navigate her storms. Much of the land is surrounded by tumultuous seas and frequent storms that make it difficult to travel between settlements because of the dense fog or rough tide. Most get around on skiffs, or if the island is close enough, by crossing bridges. There's risk in all modes of travel. It's a planet whose people are known for being capable pilots and soldiers. They say a Pamarthen's worth is measured by what they drink." Poe says, chuckling. He accepts the bottle and holds it in his off hand.
Through the door of BlasTech HQ, with a purposeful stride and an appropriately villainous swirl of black robes, a new figure appears. Short. Dark, taking a moment to scan the room and its occupants before he steps forward and addresses one man, one man with beautiful hair, above the others.
Oran speaks clearly, Coruscanti voice carrying across the showroom as he states, "Poe Dameron, you are under arrest for crimes against the law of the First Order. You are not required to speak but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something upon which you later rely. Failure to cooperate will result in the use of force." And probably use of Force. "So do cooperate, won't you be so kind?" The jig is up, someone snitched, and the time has come for fight or flight, but perhaps Flight is the better option -- the decor here is all glass, window-walls that can be hurtled through in a suitably dramatic fashion, distractions and obstacles abounding... it wouldn't be easy, but paths to freedom seem possible, however remote the odds. Never tell anyone the odds.
Oran enters, the conversation seems to mute in Karys' ears and despite the friendly exchange moments before and the bottle of Port in the Storm handed over she waits - but not that long. The pistol already in her hand is lifted up and pointed at Dameron, her left hand a little slower as she is working to get the other one free. One pistol aimed his way and the other one coming up Karys looks ready to squeeze off a bolt should the resistance scum think about making a break for it - suitably dramatic or otherwise.
Drath listens to the explanation of Pamarthe, the Stormtrooper bobbing his helmet along with it. Riiiiiiight up until Oran enters the establishment, and lists off that arrest warrant. Taking a step back, the Stormtrooper quickly reaches to his back and removes that maglocked rifle, bringing it to bear on not Poe, but the droid nearby, BB-8. Reaching over, the trooper swaps the weapon to stun mode, and goes silent as he awaits to see which way this altercation will run. Hopefully in favor of themselves, really.
Grom looks up from the holographic display of some heavy repeating rifle, as Oran stalks in with a swirl of cloaks, and makes some.. official sounding statement. "OOH, a FIGHT," the Houk declares, clapping happily, "WHICH IS THE MOST WORTHY FOE?"
"Grom! You get 20 thousand creds for every head you pull off here, pal." Poe seems cornered but he's got it in hand as he draws his blaster in a single fluid practiced motion and fires into the gut of the Pamarthen trooper. He fires again to follow up but the bolt smashes into the glass window nearby, splintering it into massive shards that go in every direction. He shoves the falling trooper toward Drath and starts running for the exit. "Let's go, buddy!" He yells to BB-8, who has initiated his internal jet to /fly/ toward the exit.
Perhaps a moment faster than she was, Karys feels the slam of the bolt against her chest as it sears through the dark colored armor. The impact sends her back as her pistol drops to the floor the one in her left hand having been lost upon impact. KS hits her back and slightly against her hip as she lands on the floor, chest smoking as the trooper lays there motionless, not only struck hard by the shot but left stunned into inaction. She is going to wake from that moment in a great deal of pain. Her helmet finally rests back after a moment of shock and then she's a bit limp on the ground.
"Really?" Oran isn't angry that the Rebel Scum just shot a perfectly innocent trooper who never did anything facist or evil in her whooooole life. Just disappointed. "Why are you like this? This could be us...." He gestures at a BlasTech poster on the wall, proudly showing its support of CorSec with some stock-holo depicting armored security figures arresting some crook. "But you're you." A piece of display case shatters, sending transparisteel chunks flying toward the fleeing Poe, but none of them hit, and he casts a wary look toward the Houk before calling the obvious instruction toward Drath, "STOP HIM!"
One moment it's a run of the mill arrest of a Resistance hero, and the next said hero is shooting your squad mate at point blank with lethal force. They set to stun! Drath grits his teeth as he sees the already injured Karys go down, and shifts his rifle from the droid flying away to the perpetrator. The rifle fires to life, as the Trooper begins to march forward after the man, a circular stun round slamming into the back of the man. Shortly afterward, upon realizing his mistake, Drath reaches to the side and swaps the weapon over to kill before he starts to pursue...
"But each of them wears a head over their head!" Grom puzzles out aloud to the sudden offer, gesturing at the Stormtroopers with one trooper-helmet sized hand. "Does little 'pal' mean the many numbers for each head, or each body? Hurm.. Scribe!" he declares aloud to no one, but gesturing at the empty air to his right side. "Remind Grom to appoint a Royal Number-Keeper to manage such details in the future." Then the Houk rumbles to Drath, "Fine shot, tiny white-shelled Human," he congratulates Drath, before turning a slow look to the side at the resplendent and conveniently close at hand Oran. "Fancy dressed human speaks with authority.. and only has one head." A nod. Both good things! A massive fist pops out without preamble and punches at the nobleman. "KING FIGHT."
Poe is half way across the shop when the stun array smacks him in the back and spills him over the shattered glass display cap. Poe tumbles over it with a loud grunt, sprawling outside with specks of glass going everywhere. BB-8 lands with a Bonk noise to duracrete as on lookers observe the the goings on of the arrest attempt.
Poe knows he has a pursuer, but he does the brash thing and appears again in the window, low as if in a kneeling stance. A hammered pair of blaster shots ring out loud, displaying the prowess of a Blastech weapon modded to be as lethal as it can be. The bolts sink home against the vanguard trooper, sparking and flash-freezing his black armor with carbon scoring. BB-8 says something and Poe shakes his head, observing Grom handle the loud arresting officer. "They'll be tracking ships, buddy." Poe limps away, moving across the busy walkways toward the slummy side. "We'll need to find another way to disappear." A look back, then Poe seats his blaster and disappears down an alleyway.
Oran is quick, but getting hit by a Houk is no joke. He'd just turned to look at Drath getting gunned down when Grom's fist comes crunching into his ribcage and sends him staggering back fully six feet into another display case with a thud. Grom is 7'7. Oran is 5'8. It's a completely absurd fight, but he's still on his feet, and reaches toward the giant alien with a furious wrenching motion to one of Grom's impressively beefy legs. The Houk is a tidy distraction, creating pressing danger that prohibits the same attention toward Poe. A comm is fished out of his robe, calling to the FO forces in the vicinity, "HVT is leaving BlasTech facility. Get boots on the ground, get ships in atmo, and NEUTRALIZE THE TARGET, or prepare to answer to the Supreme Leader as to why you failed!"
They'll do their best. But it's a big city to get lost in, and Corellia is full of hearts and minds the Order hasn't won over -- this place is notorious for an independent spirit much like Poe's own, and it won't serve the troopers well here.
Oohhhhhh, if only he'd swapped to kill a moment sooner. Drath is practically fuming, but he maintains the professional aura that he was raised to display. The Trooper saddles his rifle, rushing forward after that shot is fired. His head is ducked, and he's attempting to gain ground on Poe when those blaster bolts slam into him. The first one hits him in the chest, causing the Trooper to stagger back, and the second rams home into the side of his hip. He may have been well enough with the first, but the second burning through his armor and filling the shop with the smell of scored human flesh as the Trooper loses his footing and tumbles to the ground, hitting it with a heavy clack as he passes out for the time being.
KS is still down for the count, the new recruit is not smoking from her chest but just below near her gut, that was lost in translation when she went down at such a sharp angle. Now she is merely a bump in the road for the two now brawling it out. Somehow, mercifully or not, she is still alive.
Grom is actually wrenched from his feet, impacting the showroom floor with the thud of a falling pillar. Yellow eyes widen on Oran and teeth are bared with a bellow of "LITTLE WIZARD KING." The reptile is massive, but moves with startling speed for his bulk, lurching toward Oran with massive hands. He's carrying a tremendously large blaster rifle on his back. And an ax. But for some reason this requires Houk hands.
Seconds have bled to minutes and Poe's safety is in part due to a hulking lizard thirsty for violence, or was it credits, or was it the challenge. It remains to be seen, much like Poe, who has successfully evaded and disappeared into the shifting crowds.
Rough day for Oran. His Vanguard is down, the High Value Target has disappeared into the wild... and he still has a giant lizard to fight, though he seems to be doing alright with that as long as he can keep the Houk Hands off him. That hurt. He coughs and spits blood on a floor that was pristine before he got here, dodges the next round of grabby hands, and then makes that yanking gesture toward Grom's legs again, while still trying to manage a comm call. "Medic. Blastech headquarters. Two down and --- YIELD!" He's yelling that at Grom, annoyed. Back to the com. "No, not you. Two down and in need of immediate -- oh, bloody hell. BEND THE KNEE!"
Grom pauses in his ferocious reptilian onslaught when Oran shouts at him so. His Oran-torso sized fist is reared back for another blow, when he pauses. Yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion, and purple blood beginning to leak through the plates of his leg armor, the Houk grunts sharply once, and nods. "Very well. Grom accepts your surrender. But only because you fight in the traditional Houk manner, using only fists and minds. YOU ARE WELCOME," the alien warrior informs Oran, turning to take his limping leave.
Oran Arcantael breathes with some difficulty and glares after Grom. Glares. The urge to freak out, destroy every breakable item here in a telekinetic fit, and chuck Grom out the door while screaming 'I hope you land on Poe Dameron' is strong, so strong. He raises a fist.... and then just lowers it again, self control winning out in the end. He lets the lizard limp off with his own damage, then stumbles over to the Vanguard, and kneels, waiting for the medic, looking at their blasted, bloody armor.
Someone is going to have to answer to Kylo Ren.
Someone.
Yep.
