Ask  Plot  Tatooine Twin Suns Rising: Cleaning House

Discussion in 'Outer Rim Territories' started by The Storyteller, Dec 19, 2018.

  1. The Storyteller

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    TWIN SUNS RISING
    CLEANING HOUSE
    The Assassination of Yvonne Rongel:

    [​IMG]

    The spaceport of Mos Espa has been under the thumb of a petty human tyrant called Yvonne Rongel for a few rotations. Recently she has doubled the amount of protection rackets that outworld and local businesses are forced to pay to work there. Not to mention her enforcers have been causing extensive property damage and public disturbance within the community.

    Our trio of rebel operatives are posing as a team of assassins/bounty hunters hired by the rival gang, The Jundland Junkers, to assassinate this so-called magistrate and her lieutenants. At the moment, Rongel is hosting a private meeting with four of her subordinates inside a small palace she maintains in the middle of town so that she or her minions can monitor the comings and going of the spaceport. Rongel's security force today consists of eight loyal and vicious outer rim aliens who are experts in building and perimeter security. Once the task is completed, other local groups will jockey for power and the spaceport of Mos Espa will be open for business once more.

    _______________________________________________________________________________

    The hot desert wind blew down the unnamed street that curved around the front of Yvonne Rondel's aged stone structure that passed for a palace on the outer rim world of Tatooine. In truth, it was little more than a large apartment with three stories and a turreted outlook in one corner; but here, it was a palace worthy of anyone but a Hutt of yesteryear. No matter where one went in the galaxy, money spoke. Here on Tatooine, controlling this fortified building in the center of Mos Espa spoke to the amount of authority and fear the owner wielded. If that was not enough, the fact that the streets around the building were nearly deserted, save for a few desperate beggars and vagabonds, spoke loudly to the fear that the locals gave Yvonne and her crew of miscreants.

    THe twin suns of Tatooine beat down overhead and up in the turret a duo of Nikto guards lazed, their heavy repeaters hanging by their sides. If they were awake, it was barely. The sun beat down on their leathery bodies and the fear they and their employer instilled made this post nothing if not boring. Nobody dared try anything. Down in front, two other guards, a Weequay and a human, armed with vibropikes and heavy blasters, leaned against the stone walls that framed the aged heavy durasteel infused wooden door. They made a bit of small talk with each other while they passed a canteen between themselves wiping the seat from their brows as they wondered just how long they had to stand outside. There was no mistaking that they were built and bred for combat, even in their armored plate and open-faced helmets.

    Inside, aged cooling systems whirred with life, filling the shadowy cool structure with even cooler air. A welcome relief to those inside. Upstairs in an open room with a wide rectangular wooden table Yvonne and her four most trusted officers poured over the weeks incomes and schedules for the next weeks incoming shipments. The atmosphere was cheerful and dark. Outside the room, a duo of unidentified guards in obscuring armor leaned against the wall, a final insurance policy that nobody dared to disturb their masters. Two more wicked looking noghri were supposed to be patrolling the hallways of the palace as added security; however they had found their unsupervised stint a good time to raid the basement kitchen for whatever foodstuffs they might be able to pocket.

    Trained killers the lot of them, but for the last few years no one had dared oppose Yvonne's iron-gripped rule of the spaceport and surrounding area. Taxes were collected and the occasional new merchant was shaken down until he learned his place. Nothing fun, nothing exciting ever seemed to happen. The pay was good though.

    Nothing fun ever happened, until today . . .

    @The Mad Hammer
    @Andrewza
    @Pheristroch
     
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  2. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger studied the building before putting the helmet of the Brutus assault armor on the heavy armor was not Kruger normal gear but he did not want to wear something that could lead back to him or the Galactic Republic and nothing screamed mercy and bounty hunter like this heavy armor.

    Grabing his light repeater he moved to his partners. "out side defence is light enough. Issue is though the entire town belongs to her. We don't want a long battle with them calling for back up. So my plan is one person gets to that balcony and gets a grenade up in it. Rest of us hit the main door. Drive right up to them. Then push in and extract back to Main door."


    It was not the best plan but the best plan would many it was not a complete success. They where not just doing a assissnastion but framing the junkers. So it needed to appear some what sloppy both so people would see it and suspect a group like the junkers.

    "any case that merchant lied, this is Second hand armor and the last guy to use it did not shower often. So let's please be fast"
     
  3. Motshan Dragoste

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    Motshan chuckled under his breath as he squinted through the darkly tinted visor of the swoop helmet he had jammed on his head. It sure did not fit comfortably that was for sure. Neither did the leather swooper gear he had managed to pilfer from the actual Jundland Junkers who at this very moment were so inebriated in a far out tavern that they'd be lucky to remember anything about the last week, much less he and his companions. Sometimes it wasn't just the pretty girls who slipped something in your drink. 'And yet for some reason, they still don't trust us Ryn . . .' he chuckled silently before he swung a leg up over the battered swoop and jutted a chin towards Svata Dragoste, his grandfather.

    "No worries Pops. I'll take the tower. No sense you hurtin' your back or worse. Just shank them guys out front. Remember how these people out here treated us last time we were here." Motshan had been young enough, but like everywhere else they had been, the people of Tatooine were none to kind to he and his Ryn family when they showed up in town. Even on the fringes, they were relegated to the fringes. Their task did not bother Motshan in the least; at least that is what he'd say if anyone asked.

    With a smile visible beneath the visor that obscured all but his mouth, Motshan nodded to his fellows. "Let's do this boys. For the Alliance." And with that, Mtshan Dragoste slammed his foot down on the starter and the swoop roared to life.

    Tearing down the mostly empty street, the engine noise reverberated off the walls and building fronts up and down the block, announcing their pending arrival, overshadowing the usual din of foot traffic and legal and illegal mercantile activity around the area. The swoops were fast enough though that even the roar that preceded them did not give adequate warning to the chaos that was about to rain down on the palace.

    Drawing near, Motshan pulled one of the two fragmentation grenades from his belt and sent it hurtling through the air towards the turret with hopes that it'd land squarely in the top of the tower and send the guards there into the afterlife. As fate would have it, that did not happen; instead, the grenade pinged with a loud
    'CLANG' against the crenulated edge of the tower bouncing upwards into the air where it exploded in a crescendo of fiery plumes of superheated air and shrapnel, sending the lazing guards dropping to the deck in shock as they took a moment under the cover of stoney protection to assess what exactly was happening.

    "SITHSPIT! I never was no good at shockball. Local boys'd never let me play."

    Down below, Motshan did not slow as he buzzed by the palace down the street, slowing enough in the next intersection to begin looping around for another pass, grabbing for the A10 he had slung across his back.
     
  4. Svata Dragoste

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    Svata winced as he watched the grenade explode mid air from his alley hiding place.

    Close one boy. Close one.

    Alright, time to move. Svata had near laughed at the idea of getting onto one of those stripped down motorized death traps. Leave that kind of nonsense for Motshan. His bones still had a few more bounces left in them. As for Svata, he'd do what he always did in a pinch.

    Lie his kriffin tail through it.

    Svata let his vibroknife drop into his hand, and ran it along the back of his arm, leaving a red, dripping trail. He ran his hand along the cut until it was slick in his blood, then pressed it against his stomach, letting his shirt soak up the excess. Then, the final touch, he wrapped the knife by the hilt in his tail and pressed it against his back, his bulky coat hiding it from anyone in front of him.

    Taking three quick breaths for luck, Svata stumbled out into the street, opening his eyes wide like a madman.

    "Junkers! Buncha Junkers kriffing coming! Junkers!" He screamed in a passionate, invested tattooinian accent.

    He stumbled and slid as he lurched towards the guards, yet always just managed to keep his feet while he kept his hands in plain sight. A good lurch was no easy feat, and it was one of the first moves Svata had mastered in his delinquent youth.

    The shellshocked weequay and human looked like a pair of hand calculators trying to run a flight simulator. They jerked their heads around, simultaneously trying to keep their eyes on the street, the alleys, the turret, and pointed in the direction of Motshan's speeder. The weequay, the guard closest to Svata held out his hand but only spared the ragged old man's empty hands and bloody "gut wound" a glance before trying to train his gaze on Motshan again.

    Svata could have grinned if he wasn't so committed to his act. No one thought during an ambush. It was identify, assess, and act. It was the best time to pull a fast one anyone would have seen through in five seconds normally.

    Unfortunately, the weequay seemed to realize this too the split second, Svata passed his knife from his tail to his hand again. Squealing in surprise, the guard stepped back away from Svata's stab, the tip of the now active vibroblade leaving a wet, red wound in the guard's upper arm but otherwise leaving him alive. The force pike clanged as it dropped from the weequay's now nerveless fingers, but Svata could see the guard's other hand fumbling for his blaster as the human turned around.

    Well...shoot.
     
  5. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger hoped on to his swoop and raced off down towards the main door hoping to crash in to them but he had the angel wrong. Turning sharp to avoid Svata Kruger smashed in to the door instead side ways. Still it distracted the guards enough. As the one drawing his blaster turned Kruger fired as he dismounted. Two rounds slammed in to his chest causing him to stagger back as Kruger slipped behind the swoop for cover. The last two rounds flew high as the second guard looked at his freind who was now bent over clutching his chest in agony.
     
  6. Motshan Dragoste

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    The aged swooped whined, metal scraping against metal as the young Ryn pulled it into a tight turn. The scraping clunking sounds were not exactly what one would natural; but the hovering rocket handled well enough as it's front end looped around. Shooting back towards the palace where his comrades were busy causing trouble for the guards at the front door, Motshan accelerated towards the tower where his grenade had done little more than alert several square-ish city blocks to their presence.

    As the swoop hit it's maximum speed, Motshan, still holding onto the handlebars, gingerly began to stand up on the body of the bike until he was centered. Then he let go of the handlebars. As the bike raced by the palace, Motshan grabbed the vibroblade at his waist and lept towards the tower, the momentum of the swoop giving him the added boost he needed to fly through the air and land with a thud half in and half out of the parapet overlooking the street.

    "Afternoon gentlemen," he wheezed as he sliced the blade in his hand towards the green Nikto, the buzzing blade flaying open a large gash across the man's forearm. Before he was able to swing again, the guards were reacting. The green Nikto kicked at Motshan's wrist, sending the Ryn's worn weapon twirling end over end through the air and down towards the road below where it landed with a *SCHTICK!*

    At the same moment, the second guard levelled the barrel of his repeater at Motshan, preparing to fully end the threat of the flying furred would-be Junker in an instant. More out of self-defense than anything, Motshan grabbed the barrel of the weapon knocking it askew at the same time as three blaster bolts were discharged high up into the air. Doing so caused Motshan to give up his hold on the wall. The discharge of the weapon enough to knock him backwards even as his fur was singed by the blasterfire.
    "KRIFFIN SITHSPIT!!" Motshan swore as he began to tumble backwards, pulling the barrel of the blaster and the attached guard with it over the edge with him.

    Somersaulting through the air, Motshan and the red-skinned guard knocked into each other several times before they landed with a sickening
    *THUD* on the hard packed dirt road below. Motshan lay there, stunned. The only thing that had saved him was the fact that he was not as heavily armored as his foe; the armor having snapped the guard's neck as he landed at a sharp angle; that and the fact that the red-skinned Nikto had helped break Motshan's fall some. Regardless, as his comrades pressed the attack, Motshan laid there staring upwards into the cloudless heat-hazed sky. He was stunned but alive; battered but not broken. He was going to hurt in the morning. If he made it that long . . .

    "Urrrrrrrrg . . ."
     
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  7. Svata Dragoste

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    Svata, along with the two guards now looking at him like a pair of chefs looking at a rat in a kitchen, all jerked as Kruger's swoop slammed into the door. Svata grinned wickedly as the rebel pumped blaster bolts into the human, the human curling over and groaning while his face contorted with pain.

    The weequay screamed, a harsh, savage battle cry and lunged at Svata, his uninjured arm cocked back for a punch. Svata backpedaled, but the weequay's meaty fist clipped his shoulder, spinning him around and sending him to the dusty street. The grit in his beard and mouth, Svata kicked blindly at the weequay, and a sharp cry of pain and the thud of a body hitting the ground told him he'd connected with the weequay's legs.
     
  8. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger watched as his partner by the door lunged and missed the Weequay guard but got him with a kick. It was at this point that Kruger realized both the door guards where hunched over in front of him only a few meters away. Bracing his repeater on to the swoop bike that he had arrived on Kruger fired a long burst raking the 2 guards with streaks of blaster bolts. when he was done Svata was joined on the floor by two more though unlike him these two where dead. Looking to the balcony Motshan was alive get up off the ground a bit battered but alive witha dead gangster at his feet. But where was the forth, even though it did not mater he was not the target.


    "you guys good, we need to breach and clear" reloading his repeater Kruger moved to cover the door and wait for the rest to be ready so they could push in side and get this job done.
     
  9. Motshan Dragoste

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    As Motshan lay on the ground atop the fallen unmoving guard the rush of adrenaline had worked its course. Even now, a moment after he had fallen and lay there, he could feel the pain of striking the ground and the guard radiating through his upper back. Hearing his colleague's call, the Ryn struggled to sit up. He only raised himself up perhaps a mere inch before he collapsed back into the guard, sending pain racing through his body and causing his fingertips to tingle. "h'oof!" he wheezed in pain, the fall back enhancing the pain that was already there. This was not good. Not good at all.

    And things were only getting worse. Inside, the guards, lieutenants, and Rondel herself had begun to fortify themselves up in the room they had been planning in. One door in meant one door out. Being an interior room there were no other access points. Yet, that was not the key problem facing the young rebel quite yet. From the corner of his eye, through the blurriness of pain, Motshan saw the second Nikto guard in the tower, slap his heavy repeater on the edge of the parapet, angling it down towards the Ryn and his fellow fallen guard and open fire.

    The air was filled with laser fire, and even one handed and firing wildly as he was, the burly lizard-like enforcer managed to pepper away in Motshan's general direction. One laser bolt hit close enough to his head so as to singe the fur on Motshan's cheek. That would have ordinarily been enough for him to curse aloud and try and return fire. In fact, he would have, had a mere fraction of a second later another fiery red bolt of energy not bore through the young Ryn's leather vest vaporizing itself into a scorching burn deep in the Ryn equidistant between his chest and his belly along his side.

    At that point, all he could do was cry out involuntarily in pain before gritting his teeth and grab at the wound rolling over onto it. ALl thought of the attack was momentarily cast from his mind. All that was there was the the overwhelming pain that even now caused the edges of Motshan's vision to blur and go black.

    "Pop," he gasped, his words etched with pain and barely more than a lud hissing whisper that carried across the sand-packed roadway. "H-help me!"
     
  10. Svata Dragoste

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    As the final guard in the tower fired off a barraged, Svata cursed in ryn.

    We missed one!

    Then Motshan got shot.

    KRIFF!!!

    Svata sprinted out to Motshan's prone body, drawing his pistol as he went. Vision red, he pointed up at the nikto guard and pumped off two shots. The first shot took the guard in the shoulder, spinning him around, the second shot going wide and disappearing into the sweltering Tattooine sky.

    "You want to die!? When I get up there, if you're not dead or gone I'm going to skin you alive and leave you out in the desert to bake!"

    After a moment of silence, Svata was rewarded with the sound of a rusted hatch squealing open and closed again.
     
  11. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger got to his feet and moved from the speeder to better cover the door as svata ran to check on Motshan. Looking briefly there way before looking up and down the streets then back to covering the door. The streets where empty. There attack would not go unnoticed forever. "how is he, can we press on the attack, we don't have forever" sooner or later reinforcements would arrive but Kruger wanted to be long gone by then.
     
  12. Motshan Dragoste

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    As a sort of eerie silence fell across the vacant street, at least for the moment, Motshan rolled over. His groan of pain all that broke the calm stillness as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees before slowly righting himself to a hunched stand. The one good thing about blaster bolts was that they were relatively self cauterizing, which meant nothing too ‘important’ had been hit internally. Not that the pain he now felt conveyed anyrhibg like that.

    The lightning in the Ryn’s eyes echoed that pain that racked his body. Shooting a glance at his grandfather, Motshan nodded. It was a gesture that spoke volumes. Together they were rebels, but even more than that they were Ryn and they had one another’s backs when the chips were down.

    Stumbling forward, Motshan wrenched his still humming vibroblade from the sandy packed earth and tucked it in his belt before stumbling towards the door and the seemigly seasoned combat veteran. “Lead the way,” he groaned, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. Between the painful breaths, Motshan knew one thing, Sith or no, these were enemies of the rebellion and therefore his enemies. No better than the Sith who had desecrated his family. They would all pay the price.
     
  13. Svata Dragoste

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    Svata watched Motshan rise, not sure what he was feeling or what he should be feeling. Finally, he nodded, his jaw set and his lips tightened into a thin, grave line. They had a job to do.
    Svata listened. No guards. They should have had someone posted inside the doors as reinforcements, in case someone blitzed the outer guards...like they had. Sloppy defense? Luck? The Force?
    Grinning, Svata kissed his thumbs to keep from jinxing them with his thinking. Even if they didnt have guards immediately inside, they'd still be ready for them after those grenades and blaster fusillade. So how to get inside...
    "Think they thought to lock the place?"
    Svata's grin lasted right up till he got a good look at the burnished durasteel of the door controls. The slick, black finish and gleaming logo told him all he needed.
    "Kriff. That's imperial. Military model, high end. I dont got what it takes to crack that."
    Svata furrowed his brow, looking around, then grinned again.
    "Tell me...if you're fleeing for your life after watching three of your friends bite the big one in a crazed gang attack...would you lock the hatch behind you?"
     
  14. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger examined the door, it sure was state of the art and would take far to long to open. The windows on the upper floors though did not look that sturdy. stepping on the roadway Kruger aimed up and fired. Blaster bolts erupted from the light repeater slamming into the window causing it to explode into a shower of glass. People all ways forgot to fortify their upper levels. Failing to think vertically was all ways a way to defeat. Of courses, an open window was one thing exploiting it was another. O how a jet pack or ascension gun would be so handy right now "Found our way inside." moving his back on the wall Kruger moved into a squatting sitting position. Placing his Blaster next to him he crossed his arms ready to lift someone up to the window. If you did not have some fancy high tech answer there was all ways the old school method. "Ok so who is going up first, just tie something and hang it down and we can climb up." Kruger would wish he could be first but he had not been injured in a fight or a fall so he knew he could lift his comrades. "If need be through a grenade inside first."
     
  15. Motshan Dragoste

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    Motshan gingerly made his way towards Kruger, nodding un agreement as he sent his last fragmentation grenade sailing upwards into the now open window, resounding in a satusfying clatter as it strucky the stoney floor inside.

    Moments later, a satisfactory freball belched from the window as flames and chnks of shrapnel flashed outwards and down the hallway. What could not been seen was the minimal damage the grenade had caused, doung little more than startling those inside and signalling the advance of the secret rebel forces.

    Even with his injury, Morshan was able to scurry up Kruger’s makeshift body ladder and into the second story.

    Fste was not on the Ryn’s side today. He should have listened to his cards. Chsrging down the now warmly irradiated hallway, two of the armored guards rushed towards the would-be invader.

    Rifles inside were not the best of options when it came to a firefight, but the A10 seemed a better opening salvo than the vibroblade back on his belt.

    Even as he fired, his first bolt went wide, singing the stoney wall with a blackened scorch mark, before his second blast knocked back the would be guards for a moment. One falling to the inertia of the blast and the second pausing to check his comrade before loosing their own salvo of blasterfire which peppered the Ryn’s bantha-leather gear.

    Flopping back into the wide window sill, Motshan knew he was in trouble. So even as he grimmaced at the thought, knowing he needed help. He wrapped his knuckles fingers about the window frame and hing his backside out the window. His prehensile tail came in use, even at the cost of his dignity, as he offered it down to give hos grandfather and their fellow combatant a ‘hand’ up.
     
  16. Sharlon Kruger

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    Kruger moved back on to the street and slung his repeater over his back and ran. The soft sand was not a good surface but Kruger did the best he could as he reached the wall and jumped trying to push his way up off the wall he grabbed the tail and pulled but only seemed to get to the edge of the window. Hang on to the window half his body still hanging out Kruger non the less could see inside.


    Aiming with his blaster pistol a trusty R5 Kruger fired. His bolts scored through the air and hit there marks in the head. With the area clear Kruger struggled to get full inside.


    "you OK, there?"

    Kruger looked at the door the 2 guards where in front of. It was clearly the room of there target. Finding a curtain Kruger cut it in half and tied the two half together and secured it and dropped it out the window.


    "let's end this fight" Pulling out a tear Gass grenade Kruger got ready. "You open the door and I will throw the riot grenade through. Should flush them out of there hole."
     
  17. Svata Dragoste

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    Svata scurried up the curtain, his arms protesting the effort.

    Too...old...for...this...This is why I learned to open doors.

    He clambered over the sill and into the ruined hallway in time to hear Kruger's suggestion.

    "That should wake them up. Alright, give me a sec."

    Svata drew his blaster and trained it on the door.


    "Anything waiting for us on the other side gets a bolt in the face."
     
  18. Motshan Dragoste

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    Motshan waited as his grandfather and fellow comrade made the second story. He grunted in pain as he pulled himself out of the way and gingerly craddled his tail in his free hand. This day was going from bad to worse.

    Looking down at the vibroblade on his belt and rifle in his hands, the Ryn realized that he was ill prepared for an indoor firefight. Still...he was a Ryn, he was used to using whatever life dealt him. he'd make due.

    Nodding at the others, he smiled seeing his grandfather's pistol already leveled at the door. The net few moments would be chaotic and potentially deadly. Letting loose his tail, the young rebel cradled the rifle in his arms as he sized up the well worn, wooden door. It did not seem as well secured as the exterior one had been. In truth, no one really had figured on someone trying to breach the palace, much less making it this far. The fact that our three intrepid rebels had was a testament to not only their ability, but the laxness that the local crime lady and her goons had fallen into.

    Gently, Motshan tried the aged door handle. "Locked," he whispered. "Looks like we're gonna do this the old fashioned way. Motshan flashed his signature grin towards his graying grandfather as he shouldered his rifle and at near pointblank range fired several blasts into the lock and the wooded area surrounding it before trying to throw a makeshift kick at the damaged door. THe kick was misplaced and ugly to any outside observer, but the young rebel's follow up was notable. Loosing his footing as he clutched the rifle and lashed out with his foot, Motshan fell shoulder first with all his weight and forward falling momentum into the now damaged door. With the crack and splintering of wood, Motshan tumbled forward to the floor just inside the room.

    The looks of angry astonishment on the occupants faces was all he needed to know that they were in the right place.
    'Least they ain't shootin' at me . . . yet' he thought, the first real positive in his day thus far. Not wanting to press that luck, the already injured Ryn pulled himself backwards into the hallway, still on his belly, sending a few ill-placed rounds skittering along the floor and causing the room's occupants to leap from their chairs and go for their weapons.

    Motshan had done his part, for that moment, now it was up to the others to keep him from getting fried.

    @Andrewza @Pheristroch
     
  19. Sharlon Kruger

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    The Riot control grenade flew over Motshan who was laying face first on the ground. 2 gangsters tried to rush out but where cut down by the combined fire power of the alliance before Kruger moved next to the door and primed to frag grenades "it is about to get loud in here folks" with that both grenades flew in side. The one flew to high and landed behind a bar counter and killed the poor Droid standing there but tge second one dropped the two lieutenants puking in the cloud.

    As soon as the two pops went off Kruger stepped and fired. Firing till the only sound was a click click click of the repeater firing mechanism getting no power to charge the plasma.

    Before him where 3 moaning men wounded from blaster fire and grenades. With out even a second of hesitation Kruger drew his pistol and casually excuted the 3 survivors. Stepping out he placed to hogs on the female leaders face over her eyes. The calling guard that would cement thus false flag attack.

    "we should leave before reinforcements arrive"




    Repelling to the ground floor Kruger would wait till they where all down before moving off. To the bystanders this was a simple Tatooine gang War. The big picture was that the massive power vacuum would now be filled by the GA.



    //mission end//
     
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