[Mission] Dirty Bass Line

[Cassanova]

Spice, Money, Greed, Corruption.

These are just four of many things that completely evaded the mental capacity of Sou Bechi. He was a blunt weapon. Powered by the race of four suns going supernova. He was unstoppable. So when the Cartel appoints him to a task, it is the expectation that you are talking about maximum damage, maximum casualties, and no survivors.

Today was no different. Bechi was being let off the leash. A local bar, known as 'Recharge', owned by a rodent-sized sack of faecal matter in the form of a Rodian known as Rothin had been caught dealing spice that wasn't of the Cartel's own branding. It was something that the Cartel took very seriously. So seriously that they had sent an Enforcer, Nodja Adjiac Ot'oojisii, who was a Hutt of growing repute. They had also sent Bechi for the sole purposes of being let off the chain inside the club and to deliver a particularly gruesome message to the bar owner and its patrons. Bechi had been briefed repeatedly on the conditions of the employment. Do what you want with the guests. Leave Rothin alone.

Bechi struggled with the concept of leaving a man alive to deliver a message, he thought it was easier to deliver the message to everyone. That being said, Bechi attempted to familiarise himself with an image of the Rodian, and kept in the forefront of his mind that if he failed to complete the mission as tasked, he'd probably be punished heavily - maybe not get fed for a week or two. The Doshan's fears weren't of not getting paid; no. Bechi had no concept of money, or it being useful. He couldn't eat it, and it couldn't make himself feel better. The added step of exchanging something for what he wanted seemed trivial, pointless and ultimately it was faster just to decapitate the food vendor and eat him than wait for his produce.

It was for this reason alone that Bechi was rarely let off the leash as this.

Fulfilling the first requirement of his job, Bechi stood patiently with an inner storm brewing. He was to wait for Nodja to arrive, or as Bechi thought of him; Nodja-Hutt, and await instruction from the Enforcer.

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

For Nodja, today held many intriguing prospects for him. It seems someone's been very naughty and had been selling spice that didn't come from the Cartel. This made the Hutt shake his dreadlocked head; did this Rodian peedunky really think that they could have got away with this? Didn't Rothin know that word spreads fast than a star-borne plague on a place such as Nar Shaddaa. This made the mutant Hutt mad; not because of his quarry's defiance, but because they were stupid enough not to successfully hide. For this, the Enforcer was determined to see this Scocha-Kung pay; not with his life...but the lives of his clientele.

Now it seemed he would not be the only to deliver retribution; he would be meeting a Trandoshan named Sou Bechi. From what he had heard, there was something not quite right with the reptilian's mind, but his innate ferocity and gruesome modus operandi more than made up for it. Given the nature of this assignment, it was more than appropriate for extreme measures to be taken so that the message, heavily written in blood, will sink in. Soon enough, he would meet Bechi at their place of meeting; he wouldn't have been able to miss the Trandoshan. When he was within communicable range, knowing that his peculiar take on Basic would prove difficult for his companion to understand, the Hairy Hutt spoke in Huttese.

<"You...uh...understand what we have to do? Over all, you understand who we must not kill?">

 

[Cassanova]

Spoken languages of any kind were a real struggle for Bechi. Developmentally stunted from a young age, he had never really had a firm grasp on languages other than Basic. Even that grasp was tenuous at best; holding what many would say an 'intermediate-at-best' understanding of Basic. Huttese was, expectedly, completely out of the question for the Doshan. Luckily, the Cartel had identified this flaw in Bechi early on, and had quickly given him a translator that was able to eliminate any of the issues that would have possibly arisen from any language barriers that existed.

"You...uh...understand what we have to do? Over all, you understand who we must not kill?" there was almost no delay in the translation, and Bechi responded quickly in basic.

"The small Rodian," Bechi nodded, straightening up in the presence of a Hutt. "The owner breathes. Everyone else. They die." The simple use of language made it simple that Bechi lacked the lingual prowess that many bounty hunters of his calibre had. In truth, it probably was for the best. If Bechi were properly able to communicate his thoughts he'd have most likely been locked away for all manner of premeditated perversions.

The Trandoshan nodded to the bar, "Back door lock." The implication was, of course, that Bechi had already secured the back door. He may have been simple, but he knew how to hunt quarry. It was always easier and more fun to see the acceptance in his prey that there was no escape and that they were going to die a most gruesome, painful death.

Bechi stood, and stepped towards the entrance - the bouncer growing weary of the loitering trandoshan. Bechi paused, and turned to Nodja. "Nodja-Hutt come too?"

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

<"That's right, and by all means enjoy yourself.">

Said Nodja in response to the Trandoshan's words; limited as they were, they would send a chill in down the spines of many. Not the Hairy Hutt though, he had been given too many death threats to be concerned. If anything, he was glad to fight (if it could be called that) alongside Bechi. Soon enough, the reptilian alien spoke again.

"Back door lock. Nodja-Hutt come too?"

The dreadlocked Enforcer chuckled at this, proceeding to pull free his signature weapon, di booma. Cradling his favourite weapon, Nodja gave his response.

<"I'd be a fool not too; you're not the only one who likes a bit of ultraviolence my Trandoshan friend. Lets go.">

The Hutt then slithered alongside Bechi as they entered, activating the anti-grav feature of his armour so as to keep pace with his companion. As they entered club Recharge, it was then the Artificer noticed how many people were in this place. Dis a gwan be a bloodbat, he thought to himself. Turning to the Trandoshan warrior, Nodja then relayed his next piece of instruction.

<"Alright, you go find the spot with the most people while I stay at the entrance to make sure none escape. When I pop the first head with this..> The hairy Hutt then gestured to the servo-claw on his back. <"That is when we begin the killing.">

 

[Cassanova]

Bechi moved into the club, trailing after Nodja. He lingered just enough to eye down the bouncer who promptly stepped in front of Bechi by way of denying him access to the club. The bulky trandoshan stared at the hand on his chest for a moment before slowly reaching up to it, and wrapping his reptilian hands around the bouncer's wrist. Bechi's other hand, however came up in a flurry of hissing. The reptilian hand clasped the Bouncer's neck, and Bechi added to the momentum by stepping forward.

Crack!

Blood immediately began to drip from the nose of the bouncer, the back of his head now perfectly flat like the wall it was just impaled into. Bechi gave the bouncer's now lifeless corpse a shove, slumping to the ground. Gasps from those patrons still waiting to enter the club could be faintly heard over the bass line of the music from within. Bechi simply turned, closed the doors and placed a piece of durasteel along the top of the doorframe, jamming it shut. It wasn't fool proof, but panicked people never looked up. It'd hold them in there long enough for Nodja to end them, or for Bechi to cause some serious damage.

"Alright, you go find the spot with the most people…." Bechi had already begun moving and Nodja's words were quickly drowned out by the heavy womp womp womp of the digitally orchestrated music. Bechi made no attempt to fein politeness; He did not excuse himself; He had a goal. Those who failed to vacate the path he walked on were shoved very roughly out of his way. Several chest-puffing humans protested momentarily, but quickly backed away understanding that Bechi was not to be trifled with.

After about seventy seconds, Bechi had settled onto the dance floor, standing squarely in the center of the room, a towering giant of stoic toxicity ready to be poured into the club. Bechi felt a thump in his back, and a relatively large human cursed under his breath, "Hey, asshole! Dance or get the hell off the floor!" Bechi, naturally ignored the small (comparatively) human, and turned his attention up to Nodja, who was on the entry mezzanine. "I'm talking to you, asshole!"

Bechi passed a glance to Nodja again, then turned his attention to the human. Craning his neck down and taking a step forward towards the human, Bechi snarled, "You die soon."

A final glance up to Nodja had Bechi awaiting permission to begin the night's festivities...

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

Nodja watched as the Trandoshan got himself in position, the more victims that were close, the better. Whilst Bechi was readying himself, the Enforcer swiftly swiped a drink from a nearby table...it actually belonged to someone else. Arousing the ire of its current occupant, a Human, the Hutt put together the next part of the scheme.

"What the hell man! Think your a tough Hutt without your guards huh?"

Glancing around to see that the warrior is in the ideal position; Nodja casually rolled his eyes swallowed the drink in one gulp. Just as the Human began to draw a blaster, his servo-claw flashed forward, seizing the fool by the head. Ignoring his pleas and cries for mercy, the Enforcer turned to take note of the attention the clients were putting on him. A chuckle rose from his throat, he knew it was time to paint the town...red with blood. With a single neural command, the claw caved the wretch's skull in, bursting it like an overripe grape with an audible pop. The hairy Hutt was showered in viscera, bone and grey matter; which he promptly lapped up with his tongue. Everyone began to scream...unfortunately for them, the bloodthirsty Hutt before them was the least off their worries.

 

[Cassanova]

Bechi's focus had returned to the posturing human when the all-too familiar pop resonated through the club. A sneering, toothy grin crept onto the Trandoshan's face as his eyes narrowed onto the human. "What're you smiling about, asshole?!" Another pointless and poorly conceived shove came from his direction, barely capable of moving the bulky trandoshan.

"You die," Bechi cracked his knuckles, the sound of which audibly startled a few people around him. "You die now."

Wasting no time to doing what he did best, Bechi brought his hand upwards to meet with the human's soft, fleshy skin under his jaw. Sou's claws were arced upwards, piercing the flesh, and the soft upper palette, directly into the man's brain. With a grin, Bechi curled his fingers, and pulled downwards, hard. The pulpy flesh pulled away in his hand, the man's lower jawbone dropping away to the floor. Satisfied that the first victim had set the tone, Bechi reached to his belt and withdrew two curved blades as a blood curdling scream came from a nearby Twi'lek woman.

Bechi took no time at all in extending his arm outwards, bringing the considerable blade to bear across the woman's neck. Not wanting for strength, the single stroke took her head clean off, landing on some other patron. By now the two still-bleeding bodies had been noticed by everyone in the club, and panic had struck. With a smile, Bechi began taking strides towards a few people, fighting to get away from him, and took no qualms in haphazardly laying his blades into peoples arms, backs, torsos and faces. The blood seemed to begin to pool on the floor and in Bechi's mind, the screams played the perfect melody to the bass line of the club's music. Were this a farm, and Bechi one of the animals, he would have been a pig in shit.

The almost gleeful expression across his face was about as innocent as a five year old diving into a candy bowl, and with each fallen patron, the smile grew, and the blood seemed to drip from his face and hands, relishing in the death around him. As the bodies started to pile up at his feet, Bechi grew annoyed with the trouble of stepping over them, and frowned momentarily, before stowing his blades. He paused, perusing the mayhem around him, enjoying every second of it. As people realised that Bechi was alone on the lower floor, and their only hope was to fight their way past him, Bechi observed that they had geared up for something resembling a fight. Bar stools, broken bottles - anything that they had was brandished as a weapon.

The Trandoshan merely smiled, turning to square off against the thirty-odd mass of patrons preparing to try their luck. "No luck for you," he chuckled, and flexed his fingers. With a snarl, the broken-minded Trandoshan offered a taunt to the foolhardy future-casualties of the Recharge Massacre, "Come try."

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

As the Trandoshan began his Dance Macabre, Nodja began his own contribution to the party. Taking aim with Di Booma, the Hutt began to unload its power pack into the nearest person. With each pull of his trigger, he sent his targets into the next life...assuming there was one in the first place. With a Twi'lek here and a Zeltron there; one Peedunky felt lucky enough to try and jump over Nodja's tail; with a neural command and a flick, the Human was split down the middle as the blade shot out. Soon enough, a desperate male Twi'lek tried to stab the Hutt with a vibrosword; the Enforce simply seized the green-skinned alien by the wrist with his servo-arm. A sickening crunch followed as the alien's arm was broken, making him drop the blade with a loud clatter. Nodja then looked at his victim with menace in his bulbous eyes, he was starting to get a little hungry; murder was quite an energetic affair after all. The hairy Hutt then proceeded to stretch his jaw wide like a serpent, the Twi'lek began to scream even louder when he realised what his captor was going to do; holding his victim up with the servo-arm, Nodja began to force the Twi'lek head-first into the yawning abyss that was his mouth; the weight of his head alone caused the meal's neck to snap in an instance. Promptly gulping his target down, the Enforcer let loose an extremely loud belch that drew the attention of the crowd that Bechi was going to butcher. With this belch, came a large lekku ring that flew out.

Happy that he had now killed two birds with one stone, Nodja then took aim at the crowd. He actually began to shoot at their improvised armaments simply for the thrill of watching them cower as they lose their weapons. That was when whatever resolve they had began to crumble.

 

[Cassanova]

The group lost all will to fight Bechi, and set their feeble elopes to escape, rushing past the trandoshan in the hopes that the front door was still accessible. Bechi could do nothing but smile as he would swing his arms, claws extended, mincing a patron's chest or face. On occasion, Bechi found pleasure in spinning, his extended arm catching a patron's calves, slamming them onto their back, usually concussing them. With no time wasted, Bechi repositioned himself, lowering the bulk of his weight into a hefty stomp onto the unsuspecting person's skull or throat, providing a most unpleasant end.

The pool of blood on the floor had become nearly all-spanning, and Bechi began to fight for grip to stay standing. He turned and made his way up to the DJ's booth, shoving people brutally out of the way. All slipping over, some landing awkwardly and breaking limbs or necks. With a certain disdain, Bechi began rummaging through the DJ cabinet, throwing shit out of the way until he found what he was looking for. A relatively quaint, but suitable blaster rifle was stowed to the underside of the DJ table - a little smaller than Bechi would have preferred, but it would do the job to pick off the stragglers.

Bechi fiddled with the settings, not really aware as to what they did, and promptly took aim at several of the patrons, unleashing vibrant flashes of red in the form of blaster bolts, searing into patrons. Bechi, of course, had terrible aim, but enjoyed the momentary relief on his victim's faces as they were spared from a blaster bolt, only to be hit by a stray one three shots later.

Doing little but enjoying himself, Bechi let out an earnest, but hearty laugh that would have truly struck fear into the hearts of even the most battle hardened man. This was the recreation of a broken man.

This was the recreation of Sou Bechi.

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

Unloading Di Boomah into two more stragglers, Nodja stopped to have a look around the now-blood-soaked establishment. It seems every one was now dead; this was now a cadaverous canvas of bone and viscera, and the Hutt and Bechi were the painters with which to craft such sanguine art. Holding his weapon high, he gestured for the Trandoshan to come to him; the next phase would come into place, they didn't create this message so that the recipient could not see it. That kriffing Rodian had to be here somewhere. When his companion arrived, Nodja then gave his next instruction.

<"Alright, now we just need to find Rothin; we wrote this message and he is not here to appreciate it. I think you'll agree we need to correct this, it just wouldn't be proper if he wasn't here to appreciate our hard work."

The Hutt then spied a door behind the bar; his mouth rose into a great, malevolent grin. He realised where the Rodian was hiding. Gesturing to the door with his servo-arm, Nodja spoke once more.

<"You see that door there? I think our...friend is in there. Perhaps you could do the honours and bring him out here to see our work of art?"

 

[Cassanova]

Bechi frowned at the lack of bodies to beat the life out of, instead taking pleasure in the crunch and crack of bones as he stepped on them, making his way towards the stairs where Nodja waited patiently. A gentle groan of pain, nearly lifeless, broke the silence in the room - Bechi's grin returned. Finding the offending patron, Bechi ran his clawed hand through the human's hair, over his face and grasped his jaw. His throat let out a gentle crackling snarl as he kneeled down swiftly and yanked back on the human's head, breaking the spine, and snapping the muscles within. Had Bechi not gotten the satisfaction from the kill itself, he would have been able to pull the head clean off. No time for that, of course. Bechi had been summoned.

"You see that door there? I think our...friend is in there. Perhaps you could do the honours and bring him out here to see our work of art?"

Bechi nodded silently, and rolled his shoulders, balling his hands into fists. The doors appeared to be made of a timber or plasterboard, but with just enough durasteel reinforcement around the edges to make people wary of its strength. Bechi, lacking the intelligence and concerns that nearly all of the galaxy's population had, just saw it as something else to destroy. He approached the door, and squared off his shoulders, spreading his weight onto his legs. With a strained grunt, Bechi kicked forwards from his legs, careful to keep them on the ground and providing the push, but also extended his fists towards the door as hard as he could. The calcifications grinded on the durasteel reinforcement, but Bechi barely felt the twinge of pain that seared through his neurons, coming to an abrupt block at the scar tissue inside his brain.

The door splintered in spectacular fashion, and the scream - squeal, rather - that emerged from behind the desk was almost comical in its pitch and vibrato. Bechi merely smiled, and charged at the quivering Rodian who levelled a blaster at him. Bechi took that as a personal affront, and swung his hand out, fingers extended, claws bearing down on the Rodian. Bechi hit him with such force that the blaster actually cracked, and Rothin's arm seemed to bend in a highly unnatural place and an undisputedly broken angle.

Moments later, the Rodian emerged from the room being carried by the scruff of his jacket by Bechi. Who promptly threw him to the ground before Nodja. Bechi gave a simple, and threatening command to the Rodian. "Kneel."

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

Soon enough, the Trandoshan had brought out the mewling wretch kicking and screaming before him. Throwing the Rodian to the ground, Bechi ordered their quarry to get to his knees. The Hutt let loose a volley of deep laughter, conveying a menace that echoed within the lifeless room. Nodja began to speak, this time in his peculiar brand of Basic.

"Yuh see mon? Dis a wah yuh tek wehn yuh wahn be a bad breed. Yaffi lurn dat dis a gwan when yuh sehl di rahng stuff. Feh know, yaffi good juju pon you tah only tek a boxin'!"

The Enforce then began to rub his stomach, the Twi'lek inside was already starting to digest. Letting forth another loud belch, he continued.

"Yuh see mi doobs ear?" He said, gesturing to the Trandoshan looming over the shivering Rodian. "Pon a wurd, 'im a go mash yuh up yuh know wehn mi seh...but ii cyan 'appon. Affi let ya gwan, but wid meahjah wahnin'; do dis agehn, den mi a go come back, nyam yuh like mi do pon did Twi'lek in mi belly. Den nah preayah ta jahjah a go come feh yuh...wah seh yuh?"

 

[Cassanova]

As soon as Nodja began speaking in basic, Bechi's eyes widened. Not only had he never heard a Hutt speaking anything other than Huttese, but the issue was far greater than that. Bechi had absolutely no idea what Nodja was saying. The accent so heavily laid on that Bechi couldn't decipher if Nodja was discussing political nuances, or discussing which finger he liked to scratch his 'special spot' with. He fought to keep his eyes from staring at the Enforcer in total and utter disbelief of what he was seeing, inwardly praying that he was going to revert back to speaking huttese at any moment so his translator could prove its usefulness again.

Instead, Bechi relied on his, generally poor, understanding of social cues, and upon the completion of Nodja's discussion with the Rodian, he stepped forward burying his sizeable foot into the rodian's back, forcing him to land face-first into the pools of blood on the floor.

Despite being told that the Rodian was to be kept alive, Bechi wanted clarification now that the message had been delivered, "Kill now?"

 

[Pureblood-Sin]

Content that the Rodian was getting a face-full of blood to further emphasise the point, Nodja spoke to his companion in Huttese; it was clear from his face that he didn't understand what the Hutt classed as Basic.

<"Afraid not, we have to let the peedunky live for now. If he ever sells non-Cartel spice, then we will be back. We better get back so we can get paid.">

As the Enforcer begin to sliver away, he turned around and gave Bechi a smile.

<"But by all means, feel free to give our friend a bloody souvenir; to remind him that we came and what will happen if he defies the Cartel again.">

The rest of course, Nodja will leave to the rest to the Trandoshan's imagination. Sure his mind was not entirely their, but he certainly had a knack for pain.