Open Nar Shaddaa One Fell Swoop Bar

[Neeka Wren]

The young Twi'lek had been nearly out the door when D3-EZ voiced the question at him and he paused to think, hand resting on the threshold. "Uhh...I uhh...dunno. I've never been inside- no one has."

Neeka touched two fingers to the bottom of her helm almost like scratching her chin in thought. "...no one but dear old dad's goons. I bet they know the place real well. Bet they talk a lot with the right motivations, too."

The Mandalorian patted her metallic companion on its servo-laden arm, prompting a shake of the head from Be'nni.

"Infiltration and assault...? Neeks, where in the hell did you find this thing?"

There was an abrupt change in Neeka's disposition as soon as the sentence left the Twi'leki lips and she quickly closed the distance between them. "Hey." She growled and flicked Be'nni between his eyes, hard. "DeeThree isn't a thing. It's my pal and we're gonna kill my deadbeat dad together. Now get goin' before I forget we used to date and make you come with us."

That caused the Twi'lek to quickly scuttle off into the streets where he then proceeded to warn as many people as he could that trouble would soon be coming and everyone needed to seek shelter. Word would probably reach her father's ears about this quickly, but he already knew she was on her way so it didn't really matter. In fact, there were probably more killers on the-


Just as the thought occurred to her, a small spherical object came sailing through the hole that Neeka had created in the window and bounced a few times as it came to rest near the center of the main living space. The beeping, flashing red light and shiny canister instantly alerted Neeka and she found herself diving for cover right as the flash-bang grenade erupted into a flurry of disorientingly bright light and sound.

"OSIIIIIIK!" The young warrior shouted at the top of her lungs. Her voice was muffled to her own ears, but luckily her helmet seemed to have mitigated the worst of the ocular damage she might have otherwise suffered. There was a pause before the apartment was once again consumed in a volley of blaster fire.

"They're on the roof across the alley, DeeThree!"

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ watched the exchange between Neeka and Be'nni in silence. There was a slight lull in it's processor at the twi'lek's failure to produce useful information, and the realization that the twi'lek likely lacked any useful information to produce. This meant that D3-EZ would not get to interrogate him. It tried to place a word to that lull, ultimately failing.

There was a strange moment where Neeka seemed to be offended by something that Be'nni had said, specifically in regard to D3-EZ. A minor act of violence was seemingly all the armored woman needed to do to set the Twi'lek straight. There were several words that the droid lacked context for, filing them away to be analyze or questioned at a later time. Be'nni left and there was a fraction of a moment where D3-EZ almost asked a question when the sound of breaking glass hit it's audio receptor's and D3-EZ's head snapped over to look at the window and the grenade that sailed through.

It quickly classified the grenade as a flash-band and initiated an emergency shutdown on it's photo and audio receptors. Deaf and Blind for a brief moment as those systems began to reboot, D3-EZ still had an excellent spatial awareness of the room thanks to his memory bank and was able to move quickly while blind to take cover next to the window as blaster fire began to pour through. By that time of course his sensors had come back online in time to hear Neeka's shouting.

"Query: Shall this unit capture one of the assailants to interrogate for information?" D3-EZ said calmly as it prepared to initiate it's functions. There was almost utmost certainty that none of the assailants were target 'subject: Dad'. This was exciting because it meant D3-EZ could initiate it's primary function to it's fullest extent. It held it's blaster pistol at the ready as it prepared to do just that on confirmation from Neeka as to whether one of the assailant's was to be captured for interrogation. It wouldn't mind either way.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

Her head hurt. Her ears rang. The odds were against her. But there was a bright side to all this...

At least this schuttahole of a place to grow up in was effectively destroyed. It was kind of freeing.


"You wanna do what- oh! Yeah! Do that!" Neeka shouted in agreement at her droid companion, the urgency in her voice a stark contrast to D3's own default tone. It was difficult to hear it over the constant screech of cheap blaster gas being ignited into bolts that were tearing through thin material and creating just as many holes as scorch marks. She pressed her back against the wall that had saved her life and drew her blaster pistol. This was a really bad spot.


Neeka lifted her free hand and pressed two fingers to an indent where her ear would be under her helmet. Her commlink crackled to life. She just hoped her other friend was listening.

"Sadie! Could REALLY use your help about now! Do...anything!"

And then, after a deep breath, Neeka burst out from her cover and laid down a suppressive fire. Which was what she decided to call the spray and pray she then commenced.

@Arcangel @Citheronia

 

[S8R-D]

The protocol was to be inconspicuous. On a planet like Nar Shaddaa, it wasn’t uncommon to see mid-size droids wandering around– fiddling with wires, picking up trash, mending pipes or other metalwork. So it was that the probe droid found itself confidently circling a tavern, then an apartment building, and now a warehouse. Neeka had taught ‘Sadie’ to be her eyes and ears in this way, and it was S8R-D’s primary function to observe and catalog observations. Hers was a strange hypothesis, but research could be done in any environment.

In its public-channel comlink, D3-EZ would receive a ping in droidspeak. S8R-D’s soundmaker was buggy in a few places, replacing each colon with an upward-sloping chirp that made it sound like an exclamation. “Request! Connect to private channel with Neeka Wren.”

Whether with one or two connections, S8R-D would continue first with a dry, automated message, “Warning! Energy scanner is operating at sixty-three percent capacity.” Then it could relay the rest of the information into the comlink in that same sing-song Binary.

“Communications center located centrally on ground floor. Blasters detected on all floors, with high concentration on second floor, northwest corner. Plasma fuel lines located on the south wall, inferring an explosive tank on the roof. Ladders present on north and south walls. Main entrance on western wall, with additional entrance on north wall. Sixteen windows total on the north, west, and south walls. Access to the east wall is limited. Human on second floor, south side has a sprained ankle. There is a twenty-two percent chance of rain.”

That last part was probably not necessary, but it was the operator’s job to decide what information was or wasn’t relevant. “This one is located in a trash bin on the southwest corner,” it added, speaking of relevant details.

Finally it offered, “Recommendation! Distract with rooftop explosion, then infiltrate second floor, northwest corner via north ladder. For further information, query injured guard on second floor, south side.”

@Roobi @Arcangel