Something's Snapped...

[Gian Greydragon]

This thread is meant for anyone to join. This is a continuation of this thread, where after engaging with Echani Special Forces, Q'san encounters his birth father in the field, and duels him one final time before beheading him. For reasons unknown, this has caused him to snap, and leave behind everything he'd fought for for his entire adult life. Q'san is now en route to a nearby Echani city, where he'll buy passage off the planet, and likely new weaponry, rather quickly, as he did just murder a General in combat. I encourage anyone to join, and add to the story. Perhaps an old teammate, trying to console him, or attack him for his treason. ​

Through the rolling hills of the Echani country, Q'san's eyes ere shot due to the whirlwind of emotions he's been experiencing. His driving was erratic, flying up and over hills, towards a port city, where most every civilian ship touched down to, during their time on Eshan. Q'san spent most of his childhood traveling on diplomatic missions all around Republic Space, during his days as a child of Eshan. Tears welled within his eyes as his mind flashed back to his childhood; fighting with his cousins and siblings, competing for the respect of their elders. Q'san cared little now, for respect, or honor. His last shred of empathy died with his father.

Q'san knew that he had a short window of time before the Echani forces began looking for him, and he'd stick out like a sore thumb, in one of their lanspeeders, so he ditched it in the outskirts of the city, and threw on the claok that he'd found in the back seat, taking his old Mandalorian armor to a weapons and armor broker nearby. He was still an Echani, and would blend in, within the bustling city. Walking up to the vendor, he laid the armor, and the Harlaw Heavy Carbine, "What can I get for these?" he asked, in a low, serious tone.

The older Echani behind the counter inspected the armor. "Its still warm. Did you just-"

"Yes I did, body's still in my speeder if you wa--"

"I dont need to see that, son. You lookin' ta trade or sell?" the elderly Echani said, waving his hand in front of Q'san's face.

"Bit of both. What sorta credit would I have for all this?" Q'san asked.

"I'll do 30k for the armor, and I'll let you trade in the rifle," the old man replied, inspecting the armor, "Deal?"

"Deal. Give me a set of Echani Armor, that A140 and trade ya the GN-808 Gutripper, for the HHC and four powercells for both. I'll take the rest in cash," Q'san said, leaving little time for the old man to strike up conversation. The geezer walked to the back, and hung up the armor, then took the Heavy Harlaw Carbine, extracted it's power cell, and hung it on the wall, where he grabbed the A140, and four powercells for it and the Gutripper, as well as the Gutripper. He'd return to the desk, to place the rifles on the rack behind him.

 

[Gian Greydragon]

The Echani man returned with the armor and laid it across the table, and took out the necessary credits, subtracting what he paid for the armor and the A140. Q'san took the armor, and walked to the side rooom, where he changed into the Echani armor. That would be when three Echani Commandos burst through the door, raising their blasters at the old man. "Have you seen this Mandalorian?" one of the commandos spoke holding up a picture of the very same armor Q'san had just sold to him. Q'san remained calm and continued to put on the armor, queitly. "He's an Echani traitor. Rumors have surfaced that he's assassinated Lord General Torobah, in a skirmish outside the city. This is the armor he's been seen wearing. We believe him to be one of his estranged sons. One still yet lives." the commando spoke. The elder man looked warily over at the changing room, silently, not wanting to incriminate himself, if who he'd just bought the armor from was who they said he was, nudging his head to the door.

One of the Commandos walked toward the door, and placed a hand on the knob, instantaneously getting peppered by the Gutripper, Q'san had bought only moments ago. Q'san burst through the door and fired three rounds into each of the other Echani, and the old man, before raiding the counter of 20000 more credits on top of what he'd made selling his armor, and taking his armor folding neatly, and wrapping it, several explosives and a dozen of the generic 'Saturday Night Special' Blaster Pistols into a thick cloth and hefting it over his back. The armor was worth way too much to leave behind. Deciding to make a dash for the easy to carry weapons and explosives the man had for sale.

 

[Gian Greydragon]

Q'san took his first steps out of the shop, after re-equipping his Repulsor boots to his lighter armor to find two more Echani Commandos armed with a spear and two short, curved vibroblades. Q'san had no choice but to drop the bag of valuables, and draw his new Falx.

"Do yourself a favor, traitor, and come with us. We know who your allegiances lie with," the taller, spear-wielding Echani spoke, confidence pouring out of his mouth. The Echani people were a strong people, but their arrogance was undeniable. Placing his right-side toward them, and extending the double edged, curved blade of the sickie-like sword at his enemy. His other hand on the pistol grip of his new Gutripper sub-repeater, with the stock collapsed, and slung over his left shoulder, and set to three-round-burst.

"You're a little late hearing. I pledge loyalty to no one. Neither Eshan, nor Mandalore. I am my own King now," he spoke to the Echani, before murmuring," and you'll submit to my rule, or feel my iron grip," Q'san finished, causing the two Echani to look at each other in confusion. It was this moment that the Gutripper shot up to eye level with Q'san, as he squeezed the trigger at the sword wielding Echani, for one squeeze of the trigger per each Echani, aiming at their centers of mass riding the recoil upward, towards their face, by the third shot of the burst.

The notoriously quick Echani jumped out the line of fire, but the spear wielder caught a bolt in the shoulder, forcing him to draw his sidearm. It was too late for him, however, as Q'san set upon him sweeping upward, vertically, and following up with a downward power strike, bisiceting his enemy's crown, and knocking him, permanently off of his high horse. The rogue ten turned to the Jar'kai duelist, and cocked his head to the side, questioningly, as if he wasn't sure why he wasn't running. Without speaking, he bolted for him, raising his blade high above his head.

 

[Mirdala Priest]

2 hours earlier, Sundari

I had been working on the Priest homestead during my free time, the decrepit 2 bedroom shack had more holes in it than a kitchen strainer. No electricty beyond a generator for the water purifier and refresher, home sweet home had few creature comforts worth enjoying. The least it deserved was a decent roof. Tedious work, frustrating, and that's when Cirrus lit up.

Work.

The 30 minute ride from my coastal shack to Sundari was peaceful, the constant blast of wind meditative in it's natural offering. Arriving in the city's central military compound, I made my way back outside towards the temporary trailers lining the outer perimeters, closest to the walls.

Finding trailer number 44, I entered. Tables, papers, two computers, and four analysts. No chairs. Everything was a constantly moving mess, and the stench of body odor couldn't be ignored. Too many people, too small a trailer.

Thankfully they made it short and sweet, so I made my exit. Recovery mission, Republic territory, Foreign Legion operator, MIA, a data storage chip with some photos since he'd served with the Dominion.

They had a very elaborate plan laid out for the operation, involving aquired echani aircraft, a tactical upper atmosphere insertion into Eshan, and jacking into federal com systems to intercept enemy chatter concerning our missing boy. Very cool stuff.

"No. I'm taking a civilian flight, under Dominion contract. Set that up for me. Once on Eshan, what I want from you is a pair of scanner goggles with x2 magnification, cheap, bought from an Eshan local hardware store. And the frequency to local law enforcement dispatch operators set with my Cirrus, open channel for 72 hours." I lifted up the chip with the info on our boy.
"Thank you."

 

[Gian Greydragon]

Q'san sprinted at the man, striking and slashing, hammering down on him with all his might, roaring like a crazed beast. The other Echani had to do all he could not to crumple from the force of his combined strikes. With a subtle switch of his feet, and a pivot on the heels of his feet, brought the curved blade in an upward, diagonal arc, catching the unprepared Echani in the inner thigh, cutting through his leg completely., then following up with a rib crushing back-kick. With that, he fled into the alleyway, and leapt upward, activating his repulsor boots to bolster his jump, allowing him to bound upward to the roof of one of the buildings. From there, he'd jump from roof to roof, while en route to the port, to find and commandeer a spacecraft.

 

[Mirdala Priest]

Eshan

"Priest, it's OP-1 do you copy?"

Yeah I heard them. I had a set of headphones plugged into Cirrus, functioning both as comms and ear protection for when **** popped off. Despite the Echani elegance and the respectful composure of the people, the planet was currently in a state of war. There was tension in the air, despite there being no conflict in the streets. Yet.

Wearing my CCT armor, I had left my helmet in the civilian freighter, concealing the rest with my red poncho villa. No primary weapon, bandoleer with explosives, or utility belt. I was in enemy territory. This was a rescue mission, not an assault.

"Go ahead OP-1."

"As more intel comes through, this is looking less and less like a rescue mission."

My silence was one part suprise, and one part anger at the universe for always jinxing me.

"Be more clear, please." In the streets of the port city, I didn't mind looking like I was on the phone; I did mind using military lingo. Not like I can tell someone I talk like that to my girl friend, or family.

"A suspect matching Q'san Genet, was involved in an assault against echani law enforcement. So far, over five dead. One civilian. Genet still on the move."
"Where?"
"Thirteen blocks north east of you. Although if what the dispatchers are putting out is solid, he was seen last moving in your direction."

Of course he was. He was coming to the nearest port, to hire a civilian vessel to take him off planet. Just like he was trained to do. Which is why I shot down the crazy infiltration idea earlier. Sometimes simple just works better. Which is why I was currently sitting on a bench, sipping a sweet tea, and watching the port entrance.

"This is quickly becoming a retrieval op Priest. There's Brass getting nervous about what Genet knows, and his questionable mental stability at present. They are starting to weigh in liability and plan containment of least desirable possibilities"

I didn't care what Brass was anxious over. Didn't care what they called this op in their files either. He's a Mandalorian Legionairre and he was coming home to his brothers.

My eyes didn't rest on faces, or clothing, I was busy studying footware. You could tell a lot by a person's footware, and I was willing to gamble he was still wearing his mandalorian boots. Good support, durable, and not apparent unless someone was really looking. Like me.

Manda only knew what attire he had managed during his evasion, but a man on the run kept durable boots on his feet. Echani footware was soft, and comfortable, and would probably not hold up in a light rain. No way he's running around in that fashionable crap.

@Gian Greydragon