Log:The Twins, Part 3: Dug too Deep

The Twins, Part 3: Dug too Deep

OOC Date: May 14th, 2019
Location: Malastare: Yukkti Headquarters
Participants: Rheisa Dirleel, Kasia Ciph, Zhu Yan, and Jehni'va Cihn as GM

Jehn gets shot, Rheisa reuintes with an old flame, Kasia works the room, and Yan tells the truth (no he doesn't).

Those that have accepted Jehni'va's call to action will have been briefed on the following: a piece of artwork, long thought lost, has turned up. It is one half of a pair of sculptures called 'The Twins', crafted by Trometh Hirc Bwu'ken. All of Trometh's works were lost when his gallery was ransacked following his death; this is the first piece in years to pop up, and there may be more waiting to be found. Unfortunately, finding them has involved a good deal more fraternization with gangs than most morally-righteous people are comfortable with, but it seems to be for a good enough cause... Right? Anyway, the Asyui-en Dai gang has promised information and assistance in this matter if Jehn's group causes a stir at the Yukkti headquarters. They seem convinced that the Yukkti know more about these stolen goods... Because they stole them from the Asyui-en Dai, who stole them from... Someone else? That part isn't entirely clear. So, now, they are back on Malastare.

"That Dug, Vakorba, doesn't want to be seen involved. Something about not gettin' 'paid enough to start an all out turf war'." Jehni'va shrugs, delivering her commentary on systematic gang violence with an upbeat and airy demeanor. She is driving a rented speeder, with room enough for everyone, through Malastare's streets, her goggles over her eyes and her scarf fluttering cheerily in the breeze generated by their momentum. "So I guess we, uh. Get in, kiiiiiiill... Everyone...? I mean, they're bad people - right? These are bad people. Yes. They have a bunch of stolen stuff or... Know where the stolen stuff went, at least, and are bad people. So we, uh, I'll swing us in and we can get in, do... The thing, see if anyone will talk or, uh, get some stuff off their computers if they have them, and get out? Maybe they have all the artwork there and this can be the end of it." She sounds hopeful, ever the optimist. "An' even if they don't, the gang that hired us is payin' well."

This entire conversation files immediately under 'Things Jehni'va Never Thought She Would Say, Do, or Consider'. She brings the speeder into an alleyway beside a low, stone building on a busy street. "These are the coordinates Jibbo gave us." She frowns. There's a door. "Guess I'll just try this door here?"

Rheisa's been a bit distracted in her way since returning from the motherland. Like she's here, but not....here. She isn't even complaining about being buffeted in the speeder as they zoom along, just staring squintily at the back of Jehn's head and absorbing the syllables as the wind blows them back to her. She's not exactly dressed to kick asses, either. Looks more like the art dealer she's kind of grown up to be. Maybe she's hoping to see her new Dug boyfriend-thing before they outright murder him.

"What if I say I hear from someone who say something to someone else that the Yukkti are in care of art piece I am interested in for gallery?" It wouldn't be a lie, which is the best part, because Rheisa sucks at lying. It is known. "Or...I have look around. Try to see if can find clues, before they know I am there. THEN I say, I hear from someone who say something to somone else that the Yukkti are in care of art piece I am interested in for gallery." Coming to settle alongside Jehn at the door, she looks up the height of the stone wall. Contemplating.

Kasia is here, seated in the speeder in in a dress, rather than pants. Because her pants vanished mysteriously in a trade she didn't realize happened on another planet, but that's fine too because it's what she's comfortable in and she can afford to have new pants made. Even sassier adventure pants. She's got her hair up in some fancy twist, and a smattering of jewelry on, and there's also a blaster on her hip that looks large enough to burn giant holes in things. It's great. "That sounds good to me," she says, patting her hair every so often to try and battle the wind damage. It isn't working. The speeder is pulled in, and she gets ready to slide out, eyeing the door as well. "This is your plan, so if that's where you think we should go? Let's go there."

And then at the end of all things there was Zhu Yan, who, unlike everyone else on this jaunty escapade, was kitted out for some serious, serious murder. He'd made a detour post-Shili but now he was back. "Now I've gotta get you a present in return. Bugger," was his voice-modulated complaint. He'd been told to kill everyone. It was like Life Day. Excitable bloodthirst radiated from him, underneath the blue-ish set of FormFitter that made him look a bit like a pintsize Sajin. "Question, do we need survivors? 'Cause if we do, let me know now."

"This is your plan", when said to Jehni'va, rarely amounts to a 'good thing'. But the pilot beams at Kasia's approval, oblivious. "Yeah we can, uh, pop in an' Rheisa can do her art buyer deal. We look fancy and start... Shooooting?" The latter is directed at Yan, eager to do just that. "We may need information, so guess we should try t'keep one alive if we can't avoid an all-out-shoot-out." A pause. "But computers may work just fine." With a last searching look at her party, their intrepid, unprepared leader tries the durasteel door. It is unlocked, which seems to be far too simple, and Jehni'va nudges it all the way open with her foot before stepping inside.

Inside, the room is nearly empty, save for a round table in the center, at which three dug are playing some sort of card game. There is a closed door directly on the other side of the room, and a line of lockers on the west wall, to the left of the entrance. An akk hound lazes at the collective feet (hands?) of those dug, beneath the table, and perks up as the four aliens enter. "Uh... Hi?" Jehn greets, giving a cheery, and crushingly awkward, little wave. She is no mercenary - she is a pilot. "I have, uh, some friends here looking to buy... Stuff...? Yeah." There's a desperate pause as she visibly flails to remember what Rheisa's lie was before stepping aside and sweeping a gesture towards her little party. "Tell 'em, guys." For now, the dugs look angry, and certainly confused, but no one has attacked just yet.

"Is peoples there," Rheisa nods at the door. "Making jokes, maybe. Have animal with them." And to describe the little she knows about what sort of animal that might be, she clacks her own fingernails on the stone to demonstrate claws. To Zhu, she gives her preference for the survivors list: "The art. And Yorto'ja." Her new foot buddy. Maybe she's just going through a confused time in her life, but the Dugger bugger is stuck in her head, obnoxiously so, like that colorful neck pouch.

And then they're inside. A no-frills approach! RHeisa can dig it. But can the Dugs dig it?

"Alo," Rheisa dips her chin a demure few degrees and lets her eyes wander over their faces to settle upon that hound there. "Am Rrreesa Dirleel," she introduces with light touch of finger to temple, which then gestures gracefully toward them. "Curator of the Muse gallery. It is my understanding that your people may be in care of...eh..a piece, of art, that I am interested with." She's almost got the eloquence down...almost. "Should mention also, am frrriend of Yorto'ja. Has been some time, but look forward to our next wressling." Pale lips the color of death paint a pretty smile across her face.

Because Kasia's player underestimated cooking time for dinner, for now she hangs back while wrapping up the latter parts of it, simply watching as the door is opened. Then stepping in behind Rheisa, and then over to one side, for the time being simply letting her do the all the talking while she watches and makes sure nothing too hinky is happening. "Look, I haven't killed anyone since whatserface." Was Yan wearing whatserface's armor? Had he stripped the dead before they left that exploding base? Probably. Spoils of war, but still creepy af. He picked up the gun next to him in the speeder, a three foot long Th'Ta monstrosity he called the Toddler Cannon (because it's as big as one and makes just as much noise/mess), hopped out of his chair, and walked straight into some diplomacy. Diplomacy! "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," was his thoughtful, considered opinion, witnessing all manner of ill-conceived but much-welcomed hostility. "Before you shoot, CorpTec issued these guys a guard to get through the city." Of course Yan was covering his own ass. Who were CorpTec anyway?! "Y'know, streets are rough and all that. Gotta feed the kids somehow."

While eyes turn to slits and the akk hound begins to give a low, rumbling growl, the dug still do not outright attack. "Yorto'ja, eh?" The largest of them gurgles, not standing up from the table nor setting down her hand (foot?) of cards. The rest keep their collective eyes on Yan and Kasia... His story checks out, but they can never be too cautious. "I know you." The dug continues. "You were at Nurdak's. Yorto'ja best you in foot wrestling..." Her eyes narrow further. "I never seen grown male cry as much as that blibbering pudu cried over you." She turns and spits to the side. "Of course, was very drunk. But still." One shrunken foot wipes at a glob of spit stuck to one of her tendrils, and she gives a dark chuckle. "So you come for art. You hear that Jurro?" A smaller male chuckles in response. "Oh, art, yes. Yes we have much art. Lots of art."

"Great!" Jehn beams, buying it immediately. "That's what we're here for."

"Am not sure the reason for his tears. But if something in my words did give him disappoint, my most apology to Yorto'ja." Rheisa's stare blinks once and she looks purposefully away, taking in the bleak surroundings, last of which the lockers. "This is good news..." her words roll about in her throat with an extra layer of purry croon to them. She sounds pleased, even if her expression doesn't seem particularily joyful, and strolls a few idle steps toward the lockers, face upturned to examine the ceiling. "You keep it another place, I am sure...too much dust in this room for such precious things." Leveling a look back onto the Dug lady, she unfolds folded hands and presents them upward to their host. "May we see? Can wait here, is no problems."

So there was a perfect opportunity here for some murder. Lots of murder. Yan cottoned on to the lie straight away. They're gangsters. I mean, how hard was it to realize? There was a tap-tap-tap of his index finger along the side of the toddler cannon, above the trigger, as he resisted the urge to gun down everyone where they stood. Poor Kasia probably getting a gutful of gotta-kill-gotta-kill-gotta-kill right now. He tipped his head to one side towards the gangsters, and tilted it towards the Togruta, a non-verbal cue of 'better show them what they want'.

Gotta kill gotta kill gotta kill. Kasia doesn't have to be magical to pick up on the antsy murder desire from Yan, she knows him well enough to see it with her own eyeballs. She continues the stoic silence she has had since arriving, for now, until someone inevitably starts shooting. Because someone will.

"Yeeeeeah." Burra sneers. "Yes, we will go and... /Get/ this art. Laba'tolbo? You get the arts for our friends, yes?" The other male nods, grinning, and pushes away from the table, bringing his cards with him. He doesn't trust those other two cheaters. His back is turned, there is even more murdertunnity - but the sly will notice the shift as his foot moves towards his hip, the way that motion is mirrored by the other two. No one has to be force sensitive to guess what happens next, as all three spin around at once, whipping blasters into the air. "Yak!" Burra barks, and the akk hound leaps at Kasia as a sudden flurry of blaster fire erupts from the gang members. Only the Asyui-en Dai know about the artwork, and at least three of these slimos were seen chatting with them at the pinthouse not too long ago - Burra, Jurro, and Laba'tolbo may not be the brightest trio, but even they can connect /those/ dots.

The shifting of bodies is too subtle for the air to whisper to Rheisa's sixth sense. But her eyes perceive it - just a fraction too late to get well enough behind cover. Or any. "Tah!" She curses them in the form of shriek, having twisted to present a smaller profile. The blaster bolt finds no resistance between its heat and her flesh, catching her in the upper chest/shoulder area of that right side and smoking another notch out of headtail as it goes. So long to ruining her new heart. The Togruta crumples under the searing impact, curled into a half folded ball with feet somewhat beneath her and left arm propping her up just at the elbow. Her right arm folds protectively against chest while fingers fish for something on her left hip.

"Mrrgo du behm," she snarls, "mi kuhk det sa'mahr..." a vow to round off the threat. Because dammit, she came here for the 'sister'.

Things had been going... okay, it was never going to go well and just about everyone here knew that. Including Kasia. Though she might've looked oblivious to the potential danger, because her weapon never left her holster, but she wasn't. The hound charges at her and she moves fluidly out of the way while one hand rises to take hold of the hound. Just not with her hand. It's that thing they've seen her do once before, it grips the creature and using its own momentum against it, she swings it down onto the ground in a very not gentle fashion. CRACK. It's... an unpleasant sound.

Of course they were going to shoot. They were gangsters. There was a FWING noise as a blaster bolt collected the shoulder-plate of Yan's FormFitter armor and was redirected into the ceiling, failing whatsoever to harm the person underneath (what a lovely change from the usual) nor halt the ascent of the toddler cannon to a firing position. In the end, Yan was only annoyed that it wasn't him that got off the first shot. But retribution, retribution's a bitch.

WHUMPHWHUMPHWHUMPHWHUMPH

A hilarious amount of impotence burst forth from Yan's rifle, as the kick had knocked back his shoulder and caused the four bolts of mayhem to burrow through a wall behind the gangsters and into the street somewhere. "Oh you're fracking kidding me!" he exclaimed, thoroughly peeved at his gun and completely missing Kasia's display of sheer impossible ability. Again.

PEW! Jehn lets out a yelp of pain as a searing beam of red-hot pain lances through her left thigh. From the ground, she scrambles to get her own blaster loose.

The dug are gleeful as they watch Rheisa and Jehni'va go down, gurgling out their malicious humors... Until their pet is euthanized by an invisible force with which they've never had to reckon. The three stammer, eyes going wide; a hole bursting through the other side of their headquarters is only the second most obscene thing they've seen today. Jehni'va, on the other hand, gapes into the alleyway, still lying on the ground with one hand clamped over the hole in her leg. "I didn't get insurance on that speeder!" She manages to get out, eyeing their getaway vehicle, now covered in rubble. "It's never worth it on rentals..."

Getaway vehicle, Jehni'va. ALWAYS GET INSURANCE ON THE GETAWAY VEHICLE, JEHNI'VA.

Rheisa just wanted some art, guys. Clearly her strategy of boldface honesty wasn't the way to go in the company of thieves and murderers. She senses this, and only this, struggling like a half-squashed bug on the floor. Maybe she'll take off skittering, maybe she'll just get lost under that table somewhere and be found months from now by a janitor droid. That shot's gone deep - deeper than the crackling of seared flesh alone can tell. But the terrible sounds in her chest can. It isn't 'gruta cussing, it isn't even her being pissy. Girl's just taking a breath. And gaining another few three-limbed wriggles toward that other door.

There is rubble and stuff, and it's a decently sized chunk of rubbe that is snatched up and turned into a projectile. Once again that invisible force is used and she shoots it right at Burra, woooooosh, THUNK. Rubble meet body. It's not HUGE though, and also not lethal, but you know, sometimes you just don't get to murder people in one shot. And that's ok too.

The guy shooting Yan didn't even merit a fwing that time as the shot went wide. Obviously they were terrified of his power armored frame and rifle that belched pure pain at the walls. He'll collapse this building if he has to! Speaking of collapsing buildings, this one was obviously collapsing backwards. Clearly, Yan's prior shot had depressurised the building and was now sucking rubble through the hole and into the path of the guy shooting him. "That's awfully lucky!" he rationalized, dense as a doorknob. With a click he flipped the suppression weapon from rock 'n roll mode back to single-round-of-pain and promptly dispensed that singular round with a WHUMPH into the crater in the man's chest than Yan swore was there before he fired. "Guys the building is depressurising you might wanna hold on!" he exclaimed, not holding on to anything like a moron and instead tracking the cannon around for the next target.

With a great rumbling of rock and astro-arcane energy, Burra is smashed to the floor by the bits of building that Yan had previously shattered. Kasia doesn't rubble-smash the dug completely dead, but at least she cleared the rocks off of their getaway speeder.

Rheisa is hurt, bad. Jehni'va is injured, and it sucks, but she's gotten used to getting shot - the pilot continues to try and struggle to her feet, squeezing off a shot with her "Persuader". It goes horribly wide, which is to be expected, but when Jurro goes running past her to escape Kasia's onslaught of force-rubble, she is just quick enough to backhand him in passing. The girl has one hellluva right hook, and it staggers him, though doesn't do much more than that. He slams into the table, knocking it (and the remainder of their cards) to the floor, still not noticing the togruta currently crawling towards the door to the next room. She is almost there when the door swings open, and Jurro and Laba'tolbo spin around at the sound. It's only now that the two remaining dug notice Rheisa crawling towards the door to their inner sanctum - but they grin at the reinforcements and turn to squeeze off another round at the other three intruders.

But, at the door, standing over Rheisa, his blaster drawn, is a familiar face. "Rheisa?" The new arrival blinks out after a moment of stunned silence, his blaster pointed at the togruta on the floor. "Why...?" She is hurt. Burra is dead, there are intruders in their headquarters, a hole in the wall, their akk hound is dead... "Why are you doing this?" He balks, blinking stupidly at the injured woman. It is hard to tell what happens inside Yorto's head next - cogs twisting and clanking through years of comradery and hard crime come grinding to a halt by that one stranger who once foot wrestled him at a bar and stole his heart. But in that moment, the dug makes a decision.

Whether you're the hunted or the hunter, you've got to use the environment to your advantage. In this case, Rheisa's made use of the VERY LOUD whumps and cracks and exploding rubble, etc to mask the noise she knows she can't help but to make right now, just focusing on existing. The crispy curator crawls on her belly like the Tohg'na'ki toward that door #2 and has almost made it when....

Uh oh.

Arching her back to look UP and that short guy, Rheisa hiss-gurgles out a single word: "Arrrt." Do you SEE how she's dressed up for you, Yorto'ja?! All those teeth - beast and sentient alike - dangling prettily about her head, those lovely beads adorning her feet...all for you! For the sake of art.

Kasia steps back after lobbing the rubble, and turns to eye those that are around still. "So, what now?" she asks, both hands lifting in a an open-handed gesture that asks much the same. She eyes both Jehn and Rheisa, stepping first toward the Togruta to see just how bad the injuries are. "That's going to need to be tended to," she states the obvious, then looks around to Jehn. "And you." And then she looks up to Yorto'ja, both brows raised in a 'what you gonna do here, pal?' type way.

There was another deafening WHUMPH as, even though the fight was clearly sort of over, Yan wasn't done. Jurro, the smaller one, fell to the floor sans head and Yan turned the toddler cannon to point at Laba'whatsit. "Honestly we don't really need you," he started, in a sort of thoughtful tone, but also pretty smarmy all things considered, "seeing as we've got him," he nodded in the direction of Rheisa's presumably-betrothed, "but, one-time offer, I'll let you live if you point us to where we need to go. I swear on my honour."

The words were convincing but swearing on his honour? Hell of a giveaway that he had no intention of letting the guy walk.

Arrrt....? Art... Oh, art! Recognition dawns on Yorto'ja's long face, immediately followed by immense discomfort. "Is too much to dink Rheisa, warrior of feet, is just here to see Yorto? Please be telling me you are not here about the art...?" But he knows, he /knows/. Yorto'ja jumps, wincing, at the concussive boom of Yan's weapon, and the dug averts his eyes from the headless Jurro on the ground.

Laba'tolbo has more trouble keeping his eyes off the carnage, and drops his weapon, feet shaking as he raises them. A wound in his back (courtesy of his former comrade) keeps him leaned against the remains of their card table, but the dug nods eagerly, still. "Dere is no art here. We killed the Dug, Bodwa, and took all of it on Lothal, but den it was stolen from us." He swallows, and then grows nervous, eyeing Yorto'ja as the other dug is distracted, offering a foot to assist Rheisa. "B-But all information is tru dat door, there." He points, nervously. It's not clear whether he is telling the truth or not.

Jehn finally manages to get to her feet, nodding her agreement to Kasia. "We have what we came for." She nods at the turncoat dug. "All in favor of getting the hell out of here?" She turns to look at Yan, preoccupied with kindly offering a way out to their prisoner. She always knew he was noble.

"I ask for Yorto'ja, by name," Rheisa erks out a pained sound that'll confirm Kasia's diagnosis as she slips the knife back into sheath and accepts the dug's 'hand' up with her not-broken arm. Ambidexterity has its perks. "And they shoot. Maybe IS too much." Her voice is small, sad, disappointed and she wobbles her head around to look accusingly toward that Laba'tolb. This was a good dress. "Did not come here to make fights. Am curator. /Owner/ of the Muse. Is gallery." All this talk is taking its toll and she has trouble catching her breath. The lustrous, sunset hue of her skin is fading to a dull apricot. Gray lips turning a smidge blue. "Bodwa is no friend of mine, is not of my cares. But is piece...that is...will...be." Translation's breaking down, and so has she. Rheisa slumps over again, pitched forward into the confused, heartbroken Dug. "Am okay..." muffled lies.

Kasia steps back from Rheisa as she gets a hand up, and moves over to Jehn instead to make sure she is able to get up as well, lending a hand if needed. "I agree that we should get the hell out of here, I'm done with this dug business." Which she's saying with a dug right in here, but so what. U WANNA GO PAL? She even lets Yan lie without her so much as eyeing him, that's how ready to get out of this place she is.

Zhu Yan sighed, the disappointed sigh of a teacher dealing with a student who's complained that an anooba ate their homework. WHUMPH. Laba was gonna need a peg-face after this. I mean, if he survived. Which he didn't. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, he didn't even give the the dead guy the dignity of a pithy one-liner. "Aight let's go," he said, sounding way too matter-of-fact for someone who had just killed two guys messily in cold blood. "He was lying to us anyway. We got Rheisa's husband, he should be good for some info." And with that, he flipped the safety of the Toddler Cannon on, slung it over his shoulder, and started his walk towards the door like a midget badass. Because one can dream.

The togruta's words visibly inflate her dug knight's spirits; the stooped alien stands a little taller, his eyes shine a little brighter, and it's with this inflated self-worth that the turncoat gangster is able to catch the horned lady's weight as it slowly sags onto him. "Yes, we need to go." His voice is strained with the taller woman's weight leaned on him (sorry Rhe). "Dere are three others here, I will tell you all you need to know, but we go quick." So, as with anything Jehn plans, this mission was ill-fated from the start. With Kasia's help, the pilot is able to limp forward to help Yorto'ja with Rheisa's weight. They all step unceremoniously over the headless and crushed bodies to the hole Yan created, making their egress a little quicker.

That speeder is taking them straight to the star port. "Seatbelts." Jehni'va Cihn croaks out before the vehicle 'schwooshes' onto the street once more, leaving the ruined building and dug business behind them. "At least we got this guy." She notes, though Yorto'ja is too busy fretting over Rheisa's wounds to acknowledge her. Successful (?) mission, you lot.