Open Tatooine Anyone Want To Bar Fight?

[Kyp]

The cantina on Mos Eisley had stood for a great many generations and, yet, it had never once achieved any semblance of legitimacy or class. Kyp preferred it this way. The lonesome Mandalorian had been suffering a string of humiliating defeats as of late and the bottle was the perfect solution for him since he hated therapy, other people, and admitting his own insecurities in general.

He was on his sixth (or was it his seventh?) drink as he began reflecting on what had led a once proud Mandalorian to this place. Born a street urchin on Coachelle Prime, getting taken in by the proud Vizsla clan was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, despite the brutal training and the mockery by his peers. He'd garnered a reputation as a mercenary that could get things done but, recently, he'd been losing so badly and so publicly that that reputation was at stake now. From losing a highly publicized gladiator match in front of a great many high ranking Sith to getting absolutely humiliated by the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order in the middle of a street market to getting beat down by a mining cart by another stinking Jedi, Kyp's rep had taken a bit of a nosedive. The Lepi Mandalorian wanted to point out to those sniggering that he'd had just as many wins recently but lowlifes tended not to be subtle nor sympathetic.

In fact, that job in the night market had put a bounty on Kyp's head and it looked as though someone was here to collect. A Klatooinian marksman with six pistols strapped to their body and with one in hand had suddenly put the barrel of his gun against Kyp's unhelmeted head.

"You've got a certain unsatisfied client who wants to see you. Come with me alive and it'll be easier on you." the bounty hunter growled. Kyp sighed and stood up clumsily from his stool. The Klatooinian assumed that such a clumsy display was the result of drunkenness and, truthfully, it was a bit but it was also done so Kyp could brace the stool for support. Once he had a hand on the stool, he gripped it tight and swung it around at the bounty hunter's head, dropping the man to the ground.

"Karking son of a karking kark!" Kyp shouted as he pinned the man and started pounding the Klatooinian's face in. Not sure what was going on but always eager for a good fight, a couple patrons started gingerly making their way over, one to join the fray and one to try and steal the Mando's unprotected helmet on the bartop.

 

[Caragarr Elekobaak]

Caragarr Elekobaak had been in the bar for some time, having intimidated the bouncer in order to get in, since most people hate Tusken Raiders outside of their tribes. The Tusken Raider Chief Caragarr Elekobaak got up from his stool when he saw the violence and he barked cheering for the mandalorian, he shot a bullet from his Tusken Cycler at the one trying to steal his helmet and killed the thief instantly, he then grabbed his gaffi stick and slammed it into the other guy attempting to join the fray, sending him right behind the counter and hitting his head on the ground. "AAARK AAARK AAARK (KILL 'EM MANDALORIAN, KILL 'EM!)" He shouted in support of the mandalorian, as he had a great respect for mandalorians combat prowess, as all the patrons started fighting he grabbed his gaffi stick and bashed it into a old man's neck killing him slowly, he kicked another scrawny man who was a bounty hunter trying to fight him in the balls as the man went into the air for half a second before falling back down screaming in pain. He shot his cycler rifle at another patron who was about to land on top of the Mandalorian as he was jumping in the air, the patron flew back dead on the floor and the fight continued. He continued to cheer for the Mandalorian as he continued fighting other patrons.

 

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music

Jon Dromon was just sitting on the can passing stool when all the commotion kicked off. Cantina toilets like these were not too shabby—they were far worse—but when you had to go you had to go and this bounty hunter had crapped in far worse.

“Hey pal, you got any?” came a voice from the adjacent stall.

This moron asking me for spice? “Got any what?” Jon queried.

“Oh, I dunno, spice. Toilet paper, dumbass!”

“Sorry.” That was a rather rude way to ask for toilet paper. “I don’t have a square to spare.”

“SUMBITCH!”

Then, step by step, Jon wiped himself clean, flushed, stepped out of the stall as calmly as a Mandalorian bashes heads in, proved his predictions correct as the adjacent stall door swung open and a fat man barreled out swinging fists, and slammed the door in his face so that he fell back on the toilet. Even more rude to walk away from number two without cleaning up, shithead.

Back in the bar room, Jon discovered that all hell had been let loose worse than his lunch. It was all the Duros could do to light a cigarra, negotiate his way through flailing limbs, thrown glasses and misplaced blaster bolts, and find a nice little unmolested stool at the bar counter.

“Rum. Top shelf.” He demanded behind a cloud of smoke, relaxing a hand on his thigh just by the pistol holstered at it.

“Here you go! Pour it yourself, asswipe!” came a voice from the other side of the bar, specifically from the floor. Well Jon Dromon wasn’t one to turn down a free drink so he seized a glass from a nearby patron too unconscious to care and went to pouring. The holoscreen was still on showing the podrace. His racer was in the lead.

 

[Hardy Wren]

Hardy had come to have just a simple drink for a simple day- but a rabbit and a hog-head decided to ruin that peace and quiet the fellow Mandalorian had sought after.

The intimidating man simply stood up from his chair which made a shrill noise as it scrapped against the ground due to his abrupt movement. The other patrons slowed down to look at Hardy who was garbed in his very nice and expensive leather bomber that hid his Death Watch covered Mandalorian armor beneath. Then, it was Hardy's turn to stare back at the patrons.

It was as if Hardy had calmed a storm, the way people stopped abruptly in their fight to look at him walk through them as if they weren't even there. The masked Mando stopped when he got to the Mandalorian Lepi that had started the ruckus, "Shall I introduce myself?" He said subtly before clenching his left fist, activating the pneumatic fist. In a single swift blow to the side of the head, Hardy knocked the Klatooinian off it's feet and into a wall where it then plopped onto the floor, as dead as a doornail.

The entire bar was still silent- maybe the recognized him from his old wanted posters for acts of terrorism throughout the galaxy in the name of Death Watch. For justice and liberty- many believed in his works, but many still only saw what the news wanted them to see.

Hardy then turned his attention to the Lepi, his brilliant blue eyes staring down the Mando-bunny with malicious intent. Then, the fellow Mando turned around to head back for his seat with the fight continuing onward as if nothing had happened, which he found was taken by a Duros. Hardy could snap his neck, but decided not to, simply stealing another stool right out from under another drunk Zabrak who barked insults at the terrorist. Hardy only kicked the Zabrak in the throat, causing it to choke and gasp for air. If Hardy hit him right, he'd never receive such air and would suffocate and die do to his raptured and collapsed windpipe.

The stool was then set down next to the Duros and Hardy decided to only sit and close his eyes to ponder and rest amidst the storm behind him.

@Die Shize @Fantasy Liver @Stormtrooper

 

[Kyp]

As Kyp was pounding in the Klatooinian's face, he was distracted by the firing of a cycler rifle behind him. What the hell? Fist fights had broken out many times at this bar and they rarely escalated into blasterfire. Spinning around, Kyp spotted a Sand Person - weren't those things banned around these parts? - shooting the man who had tried to steal the Lepi Mandalorian's helmet. Although grateful that his property hadn't been lifted, Kyp still was a bit concerned that this Tusken's wild blasterfire was going to make the bar erupt into a free-for-all gunfight. And Kyp, being in the middle of the bar, really didn't want to be caught in the middle of all that. He enjoyed a good fight as much as the next guy but getting clipped by wild gunfire didn't really appeal to him.

Kyp let the Klatooinian drop to the floor and he instead, sprinted towards the Tusken Raider.

"Karking idiot! Stop!" he shouted, catching the gaffi stick as Caragarr tried to bash an old man in the face. What the hell was up with this guy? By all accounts, the old man looked like a moisture farmer trying to duck out of the bar before things got even more violent. Keeping a firm hold on the gaffi stick, he aimed a solid punch at Carragarr's rib. Since he was attached at the gaffi stick, it should be an easy punch and the Lepi's shockboxing gloves should hopefully send the thing down to the ground.

All around Kyp, fights were breaking out. The bouncers managed to restrain those that had whipped out blasters in response to the Tusken Raider. The Klatooinian that he'd left on the floor had gotten up and was making his way towards Kyp to take a shot but Hardy managed to knock him into the wall, putting him out cold. Kyp nodded his appreciation and then his eyes widen when he saw Hardy try to go for a death kick at some poor Zabrak. What was with everyone today? Kyp had killed a few innocent bystanders in his day but he was a professional - he at least wanted to be paid for it.

Outside the bar, a commotion could be heard and it was clear that the town's local peacekeeping forces and some vigilantes were assembling outside. In hindsight, a Tusken Raider intimidating a bartender into letting him inside might have caused enough a stir to warrant one of the bouncers to get the law.

"God damn it." Kyp sighed.

@Die Shize @Stormtrooper @Charles

 

[Caragarr Elekobaak]

The Tusken realized what he had done wrong and after getting punched in the gut and dropped onto the floor, he saw the commotion outside and stood back up before waving at the Mandalorians to follow him to safety. He made sure he still had his gaffi stick and cycler rifle, and he did, his cycler rifle was holstered on his back but his gaffi stick was in his hand just in case someone attacked him. He began running up the stairs until he reached the roof in which blaster fire immediately started being fired from the ground. He got onto his belly hoping the Mandalorians would follow him to his tribe, since Mandalorians were the only non Tuskens that Caragarr respected, and he didn't want them getting caught up in the fight that was about to break out with the law and him if he didn't escape soon, because he worried that the Mandalorians would be killed by such a large force. He began crawling on his belly as blaster fire from the ground stopped since they couldn't see him. He then realized the town's peacekeeping force was going to come to him eventually, so he did something extremely risky. He threw a pot over to the side of the building where the blaster fire came from, and the pot was shot at but not before it shattered on a peacekeepers head knocking them out. He didn't want to have to kill them but he knew if they came closer to him he might have to, and since there obviously aren't enough pots up on the roof to knock people out with, and since the people are probably now on the lookout for thrown pots, he understands that he has no current options but to wait and hope the Mandalorians follow him.

 

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music [Recurring]

When a stool was propped beside his own, following a fallen fellow who no longer needed it, Jon felt no immediate need to unglue his gaze from the holoscreen. Some idiot might be gasping for air but it had not blown his way. More important than all that nonsense was the fact that he could finally hear the podrace during a calm in the storm.

Nothing lasts forever. Jon sighed as the shouting returned, only this time it was coming from outside the bar. Those blaster bolts had clearly not gone unnoticed. Neither has this racer. “Left!” Jon demanded. “You son of a karking blaster! Watch your tail!” Nope, even a fist pounding on the counter wasn’t enough to be heard through the holo.

Exhaling his disappointment to be lost in a sea of swirling smoke, Jon finally acknowledged the big guy sitting next to him, golden eyes squinting on the juggernaut's black face.

“Say…don’t I got a bounty on you?” Jon looked up, looked down, kept fingers between his cigarra and others on the handle of his holstered pistol.

“Should join a Sith club with that mask of yours. Only you ain’t a Sith.” A shot of rum was knocked back and sweet spice licked from lips. “You’re Death Watch.”

Tempted as he was to draw on his bounty right then and there, the hunter had a race to worry about. And winning it might get me more money than what I’d get for this bumbling buffoon before me.

@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Stormtrooper

 

[Hardy Wren]

Someone was catching on, and quicker than Hardy had anticipated. The Duros was much smaller than the terrifying Mando before him, but Hardy wasn't one to underestimate the skill of others.

Now Hardy was really debating whether or not he should have had this guy's neck snapped and torn from his shoulders, but that would've made a bigger scene in such a public area. The peacekeepers were getting closer as well, which meant Hardy would have to shoot his way out anyway. But...Tatooine was ISC territory, and Hardy thought he remembered that Five Syndicate affiliated members had bounties as well.

"It doesn't matter who I am." Hardy said without looking at the Duros.

"All that matters...is my plan." He heard an officer enter the building and began demanding for the surviving patrons to hand over IDs. He began making his way to the hulking figure that sat next to Duros who was almost completely captivated by a race of some sort.

Almost as soon as the officer tapped Hardy on the shoulder, the goliath of a man twisted around to grab the officer by the back of the head and then slammed it on the bar table in between the two outlaws before the peacekeeper could draw his blaster. Then, Hardy took the officer's blaster, a Glie-44, and opened fire on the remaining officers who were too slow to react to his attacks as they were busy taking registration forms from the other patrons.

When the original officer got to his knees to stand up, dazed and confused, Hardy simply put one hand on his jaw and the other on the man's head and twisted his big hands in opposite directions. A loud and violent snap and crumple could be heard as Hardy broke the officer's neck with such brutal ease.

Then, he gave Jon his attention.

"Get yourself caught and turned in alongside myself, and I assure you it will pay off greatly." His blue eyes stared intently into the Duros' golden eyes before turning to face his empty shot glass once again.

"Or try to shoot me. Your pick. Fifteen thousand credits for my arrest? Or the entire galaxy groveling at your feet?" He offered, his tone very bored and uninterested.

@Die Shize @Stormtrooper @Nor'baal

 

[Kyp]

Well, today was certainly shaping up to be rather interesting. The stunning power of Kyp's shockboxing gloves managed to put Caragar down on the ground for awhile. Enough to breathe and reorient himself, anyways. He grabbed his helmet from the bar, quickly starting to sober up at the chaos exploding all around in the cantina.

As every good mercenary knew though, great chaos often presented great opportunity. With the peackeeping forces on Mos Eisley being assaulted from multiple fronts, Kyp figured now would be a good time to step in. Starting such a violent bar fight and walking away unscathed from it would already net him a decent amount of reputation points to make up for the hits he'd taken recently and, stepping up to put down some more murderers would give him even more points. Besides, he liked this place and didn't want to see it razed to the ground. He held his Bryar pistol in hand and leveled it at Hardy's head.

"On the ground, pal." Kyp snarled, having heard the words Jon said about this hulking human having a bounty on his head. He looked to Jon too, keeping his left wrist trained on the Duros, lest a wrist rocket needed shooting in case the Duros proved to be working with Hrady. The Lepi had opted not to follow the Tusken Raider on account of the random murdering and all.

@Die Shize @Charles @Stormtrooper

 

[Caragarr Elekobaak]

Caragarr realized they weren't coming and quickly came to the realization that he had to fight his way out. So he crawled onto his belly until he got back into the building. "AAARK AAAARK!" (GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT MANDALORIAN! HE IS MORE WORTHY THAN YOU OF LIVING) He said as he found out that the mandalorian was putting his gun to the head of another, much stronger, and in his opinion, more respectable Mandalorian than Kyp. But as soon as he yelled that several peacekeepers ran inside and then Caragarr grabbed his Gaffi Stick before smacking the club head into the legs of one of the soldiers knocking them onto the ground, he then smacked another soldier above his hip then killed him with the mace head smacking it into the soldiers skull. He slammed his club head of the Gaffi Stick into the door panel closing the door crushing a soldier trying to get in, and then the door closed completely cutting the soldier in half. He tapped on the Duros' shoulder, despite being xenophobic to Duros, because he knew if they were gonna make it out alive they needed to not only fight the soldiers together, but to take out this Mandalorian threatening the survival of both the Other Mandalorian, the Duros, and himself. So after tapping on his shoulder he showed him that he stood with him by taking the enemy Mando's helmet off and punching him in the back of the head. He then hoped that the other two would stand alongside him in fighting this Mandalorian. And as he knew they would be able to fight since the Mando was now distracted and didn't have his weapons to the other two.
@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Die Shize

 

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music IC

I’m starting to think that maybe this race is already lost. Jon was more worried about his idiot racer than those peacekeepers. After all, it wasn’t a Duros’ face plastered on posters with ‘TERRORIST’ floating above them.

The front door gave way for Officer Dipstick and his whole ‘tickets please’ routine. One cloud of smoke and a blaster bolt later and Jon was no longer sitting.

That head to the bar was enough to wobble his bottle and what came next led to the bounty hunter springing from his stool to level his pistol toward the Death Watchman. More specifically toward the little Mandalorian rabbit behind him. Well, both, to be precise.

“That’s a pretty lousy sales pitch, bub.” Jon spoke to the big guy. “You sound like this one Hutt I know, and a certain space wizard, only they sounded less…” He stole a glance at the holo. He regretted it. “...At a loss.”

Big bad terrorist, big boy might be, but Jon Dromon would need more than one drink to put his blue ass in prison on a voluntary basis. Really, whatever plan Death Watch had, well, they didn’t seem to have one.

The front door opened again, only this time with a bang. More blaster bolts had done nothing to persuade the police outside that everything was okay on the inside and everyone was fine now.

Instead, they came in blasters raised. Some people just ain’t got sense. The peacekeepers announced for everyone to get arrested while the holo announced the race’s winner. It wasn’t Jon’s. And there go my creds.

At least he had sense, enough to not let a Tusken Raider get close enough to tap him on the shoulder. The Duros would reward any such persistent attempt with a squeeze of the trigger aimed at the shoulder. That was a tap that Caragarr did not want to experience.

@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Stormtrooper

 

[Hardy Wren]

A gun point from two directions by a blood-traitor and a greedy scumbag.

Hardy liked those odds.

The masked Mando sighed, his rebreather/filter hissing slightly as he did so. He continued to play with his shot glass, fiddling with it around his fingers for a moment or two to give these two a chance to back down and re think who they were dealing with. The noisy Sand Person in the background was obnoxious and wasn't helping with his nerves, but a potential blind follower could be useful in this situation.

"So quick to turn on a fellow brother of Mando'a...for money." He spoke finally, heeding not unto the rabbit pointing a blaster at the back of his head.

"You have no place among my brothers and sisters." His tone was dark and malicious and the way his voice carried through his mask made it even more intimidating. "Nor the right to wear that armor."

Hardy turned slightly so he could see both forces of opposition, but his brilliant blue eyes were focused on the rabbit pretending to be a Mandalorian. He stared for a long time, too, before finally standing up and putting his arms in the air. It was apart of the plan to get caught anyway, and his bounty wanted him alive because the ISC thought they could teach him some manners- it usually ended with the interrogator on the ground flailing like a fish out of water due to a broken back.

"And you," he turned on the Duros, this stare more unimpressed and disgusted.

"Are just like the Hutt scum you should've shot when you had the chance. Good thing, too. Now I can kill him myself."

@Fantasy Liver @Die Shize @Stormtrooper

 

[Caragarr Elekobaak]

The Tusken Raider realized no one was going to help him so he backed off immediately. Then silently watching the fight that was about to come between the Duros and the Death Watch agent. He didn't want to be shot by the Duros either, so he decided not to tap him on the shoulder again, ever, for that matter. Then some peacekeepers broke the window coming inside, the Tusken Caragarr dropkicked one in the groin sending him to the ground screaming, he then shot another peacekeeper right in the chest with his Cycler Rifle, killing the soldier immediately. He took his gaffi stick and thrusted the spear end into the heart of another soldier, killing him as well.

 

[Taldorak Trenessar]

Suddenly the sound of screams and the smell of melting flesh would bask in from the doorway as the last few Peacekeepers dropped to the ground in a smoking, yet burning heap. As the controlled stream of liquid flame died down, heavy boots would step through the door frame, pausing only long enough to shove the charred corpses back through the doorway.

"Whew... Tatooine... always a shit hole." Tal would say with a laugh before his gaze shifted to the bartender. "For the damage, chief." He would toss him a small sack of creds before the Mandalorian turned to face the others and whistled.

"Kyp, good to see you again." He said casually as he drew his peacemaker and aimed it at Hardy and the Tusken. A little stepping to the side would put the barker between him and the Duros. The Crymorah Enforcer had spent the last few months checking on operations on Pzob and the Core. Business was booming. Side trip to Tat? He knew a Togrutan who wanted something nice from the world. "So catch me up to speed on why we have blasters drawn on each other, and then we can get to the killing."

@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Die Shize @Stormtrooper

 

[Kyp]

Unfortunately for Carragar, his attempted surprise attack would be a bit hampered by the fact that since he had come back from the roof's entrance and Kyp was facing the bar, the Lepi Mandalorian was able to see the Tusken approach. As such, Kyp was able to throw a couple of elbow strikes at the Sand Person's face while still retaining his helmet and keeping an, admittedly shakier, line of sight on Hardy. Fortunately, the very belligerent Sand Person backed off and Kyp could get back to business.

"Pal, I don't know you from Jori and I've met plenty of fellow Mando'a " Kyp said to Hardy. Considering the man's bomber jacket was deliberately meant to be hiding his Mandalorian armor, Kyp figured this guy could just as easily be another poser wanting to look cool.

"Scrag, what the hell is going on today?" Kyp shouted to the heavens as a familiar face walked through the door. He nodded briefly to Taldorak.

"Hello Tal. I honestly couldn't tell you. I got ambushed by a couple of bounty hunters and then that one in the robes started killing everyone for no reason and then that big one there started doing the same. The Duros seems alright though. We have a lot of dead Peacekeepers and dead bounty hunters and I'm thinking the Hutts or some local gang is about to be on their way to burn this place to the ground unless we get the hell out of here soon." Kyp said. The Lepi had a love of battle but he also had a love of staying alive for the next paycheck and as badass as this crew around him was, fighting against the entirety of Tatooine's underworld was a losing proposition no matter what.

"Damage?!? I got a handful of dead Peacekeepers here and even more dead patrons. Fuck your credits!" the little bartender squeaked to Tal before scampering away quickly. That being said, he took the credits anyways.

@Rhogar @Stormtrooper @Charles @Die Shize

 

[Jon Dromon]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

Me, Jon agreed as Hardy turned his tongue on him. Me, me, me. There was always next time when it came to executing Hutts as well as cashing in on the heads of Death Watch terrorists. And this guy's doesn’t need to be attached.

Right now the peacekeepers were making that endeavor difficult as well as the other blasters in the room. The first problem was blasted away from the doorway by yet another shooter. My kind of cantina. Shame the rum sucks bantha balls.

As the bartender scurried off, blasters stared one another down as a standoff ensued. It wouldn’t last long since nothing loud ever did. Jon had no intention of leaving this cantina except with his life and his freedom intact.

“I got no beef with either of you,” the Duros nodded toward the rabbit and his reasonably taller friend. “Or you as long as you keep more than six feet,” he told the Sandman. “You, well,” Jon inclined toward the terrorist. “Make a move and you’re buying me dinner with your dead body, Death Watch.”

Jon hoped it wouldn’t come to blows given that he didn’t like his odds against reinforcements and these other clowns all in one sitting. If it came to it, though, his odds with pod-race gambling weren’t much better and he had to make a living somehow.

@Fantasy Liver @Charles @Stormtrooper @Rhogar

 

[Burk]

At least one of the gathered bar-fighters was on the money. Kyps concerns about the local protection scene, were rapidly coming to fruition as a large skiff pulled up outside the bar, atop it standing a large, swarthy porcine alien, with the sigil of the Desilijic Clan tattooed on his trunk-like right arm. Burk was the creature's name, and he was on the payroll of the notable Hutt, Nor’baal Desilijic Fa’athra. Personally, Burk couldn’t care less about the bar, but according to the Palace, the barkeep had paid for protection from the Lorda, some years back, sure, but still, the agreement stood.

Initially the Peacekeepers had been sent. All the Hutt had done when the deal was struck was pocket the kick-backs and threaten the local law-enforcement with a hefty bounty if they failed to keep the bar safe. However, they had failed in that duty, and given that his master was currently planetside, Burk had been sent to see why, alongside some fellow porcine members of the Hutts' retinue.

He looked over the doorway to the bar as he heard gunfire within, and hopped off the skiff with a thud, walking into the bar as the last Peacekeeper doubled over. Burk did not look impressed - humans were so fragile.

<Douaph mee echuta bimhee, an kark mo.> his deep voice rumbled into the room as he towered over Taldorak, who had his firearm aimed at a strange-looking man, Hardy. Burk did not know their names, he didn’t recognise any of them, and he didn’t care. <Tah tusawa doth biw bu chakaph see Nor'baal Desilijic Fa'athra.> the barkeep looked visably relieved when he heard the Hutts name.

Over his back, a massive vibro-ax rested, whilst nestled in each boot, a small knife would be found. Standing within arms reach of Taldorak, the barrel chested scoundrel, Burk, snarled at the man. Looking him up and down with a smirk, before drawing his blade from the leather sheath on his hip, and seeing if any one of them would dare challenge him.

 

[Hardy Wren]

Hardy kept his eyes trained on the rabbit while Jon spoke. He was in quite the pickle, and the rabbit seemed to have made some sort of temporary alliance with the Duros and a new Mandalorian standing behind the rabbit. Hardy recognized the Mando as Toldorak Trenessar, a living legend in Hardy's book. Maybe the rabbit wasn't an enemy to made if he was allies with Trenessar. So, the masked Mando made a new assessment of the situation, folding his big burly arms accordingly and defiantly.

"You will get no such pleasure from me, I'm afraid. When I'm finished here, I'm going to kill you." Hardy said blatantly as if killing someone was just an everyday thing. Then, a new subject came to intervene- a Gamorian fat-ass who dared to threaten and disrespect Taldorak! Hardy's menacing glare shifted to the Hutt loyalist and he unfolded his arms as if anticipating a fight.

"I believe we can come to an agreement, however. A temporary truce." Hardy grumbled to his fellow companions and looked back at Jon. "If you assist in the punishment of this crook, there will be no blood spilled between us." Hardy then gazed over at the other two Mandos. "The same goes for the both of you."

Finally, Hardy took off his leather jacket, handing it up nicely on his seat, revealing not only his black and gold beskar'gam covered in Death Watch insignias but his muscly arms covered in pneumatic fist armaments and his impressive build.

@Nor'baal @Die Shize @Rhogar @Fantasy Liver

 

[Gurp]

Following shortly behind his brother both in arms and blood, Gurp hopped off the skiff with his rifle in hand already. It seemed many had died and chaos was still going on inside the bar. That meant it was going to be a fun job. The heavy rifle pointed down range instantly towards the man who was removing his jacket to reveal weapons and armor. That wouldn't do him much good against the power about to be thrown down range if things didn't cool quickly.

<<Noah wompa nee choo. Bolla ateema. Noah stupa.>> he grunted loudly as it seemed at least one bar patron was about to defy orders to stand down. Grup's eyes watched the others for any sudden movements but there was one clear target for the moment. The large Gamorrean watched from the doorway to the bar with the rifle pointed at center of mass for Hardy. His pudgy little finger was on the trigger ready to blast him at this fairly short range if any funny business went down.

Gurp had no problem dying for his Lord, even if it meant defending some bar on the disgusting sand planet. A Hutt Lord without respect or fear was not a Hutt Lord. Burk and Gurp were here to end disturbances by any means necessary. He was happy to let these people all leave alive if they backed down., but part of him was hoping they'd make the bad move. Filling this bar full of blaster bolts and pain sounded fun.