Not the dregs, again... (Sal, Buggie, GD, Dastan)

[Dastan Imatari]

Continued from:

http://sithlore75146.yuku.com/topic/106 ... XEj1YQrJhE

last order:
Sal, GD, Dastan, Buggie

[Salem Norongachi]

A smile here. A laugh there. Tell a joke. Know your audience. Rudimentary stuff some would say, but difficult to master and utilize when you'd rather be anywhere else in the Galaxy. These skills had seen him gobble up companies with a handshake, move billions of credits and forge powerful alliances in his time with the Corporate Sector and more so after when he'd struck out on his own. The twins were none the wiser to his fallacy and even if wasn't maintaining a perfect sabbac face, they were too drunk to notice and not gifted enough to feel the rush of coiling serpents that had taken up residence in Norongachi's guts.

The drink in his hand found its taste marred upon his tongue as the sense of foreboding grew; metallic, acrid, like the air had become tinged with blood. He knew this sensation all too well, the necrotic stink of the Darkside. He'd lived at the heart of darkness, ruled from it, once upon a time and worked with and against some of the most powerful Darksiders this Galaxy had known for decades. Only the slightest switch of a dark brow showed he was concerned and he cast a quick glance at the Verpine. Unreadable, the insectoid features gave nothing away but surely he couldn't be blind to the sensations that were turning the Force stagnant around them. His thoughts cast themselves into the intricate web of the Force and sought out the Force Masters mind, words weren't needed, he simply made the sentient aware of what he was feeling.

"Gentlemen, you'll have to excuse me. I simply wanted to stop by and make sure you had everything you need for the evening but I have matters that require my attention. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask my staff." One last look at Buggie was all he gave from behind his practiced smile before he stood and made for the door.

[Dastan Imatari]

Marching through the streets of the station- the large dome overhead, a city in a bubble afloat in space- an armored Dastan lead his retinue of combat droids. The six droids behind him were gunmetal colors. The first three commando battle droids were carrying blaster carbines, and the three behind them- the bulkier sith war droids- donning piecemeal black sith armor and tattered cowls, carried heavy repeaters. It would have been a sight to see- though most people who saw them either payed no attention, or watched on bewildered- giving a wide berth. Dastan was clearly armed with an axe in both hands, though his blaster pistol, vibro shiv, and lightsaber hilt were likely unseen comparatively.

Their pace was quick, almost a jog. The cowl wrapped around his shoulders and hood over his helmet billowed slightly with the speed- heading straight for a nightclub establishment which seemed to have a bit of a crowd gathering up front. Classy enough looking joint- as one can be- being a nightclub. The multi-level building's sign up front was able to be seen now- the Ninth Gate. It's neon glow reflecting off the other buildings, and the sprawling street and hovercars around.

Dastan- the ever determined upstart had gained plenty of influence since being sprung from prison. Back with a vengeance, and with that- he had some to deal out in the name of the Sith. These days- there seemed to be plenty of old generation Sith Lords who got disenchanted with, and turned their backs on the Order. Surely, the Order of old was a bureaucratic mess filled with the lazy complacent followers now gone. Though they still turned their backs on the order without doing what the Sith were made to do- cut the chaff, and leave the strong. That made them targets of the Order. Traitors. Treasonous cowards that knew too much.

This one in particular had made a good life for himself- a business owner, and rumored pirate. Details Dastan didn't actually care about- the only thing he cared about was tying up this loose end.

The club was just before them now, the crowds heading to the establishment began to part to allow the group through. The front door opening and closing to allow patrons inside had allowed the music from within spill out occasionally. It was loud inside. It was only going to get louder.

Drawing on the anxiety and fear of the people around subconsciously, Dastan felt energized. Butterflies flit around his stomach with adrenaline as he saw the front doors in detail- and a single bouncer outside. This one male's presence enough to turn away even the most determined club-goer. As Dastan approached to only a few steps away- the man pivoted, and stepped in front of the door- and held up a hand casually. The general sign to piss off and go elsewhere. Without skipping a beat, Dastan thrust the haft of the axe into the man's solar plexus as he didn't even stop his approach. The man doubled over to his knees with a loud wheeze, and the first battle droid in the double stacked column behind him put a single blaster shot into the man's back.

The crowd outside didn't shriek, or scream- but there was a shared loud gasp- and a bit of panic began to start.

Dastan passed through the front door as the hydraulics hissed it open- and that's when a cascading roll of gasps and murmering started.

The fee and coat collection on the right had a lady who immediately backed up, and threw her hands in the air as one of the battle droids pointed a weapon at her. Though it seemed like she reacted before they trained their weapons on her- hitting a button to activate their security protocols.

Down the hallway further was a security members before a set of double doors. He was well dressed, and acted swiftly. He drew a weapon from beneath his jacket and pointed it down the hall. Similarly, a turret dropped from the ceiling before the doors- a red light blipped on and a light hum was heard before it erupted with blaster fire. One of the battle droids opened fire in immediate retaliation, the others moved up in front of Dastan. Being tagged multiple times by both the guard, and the turret- the first droid fell to the ground with a hissing clash.

The yelps picked up outside- but the music was still loud inside those double doors.

At that moment, one of the war droids executed the female behind the coat desk with a blast, and the other battle droids began to scramble for the double doors, all fire focused on the turret. The guard fell to a blaster bolt, as did another battle droid, then a loud bang was heard as a small detonation sapped the automated turret in a ball of smoke and sparks.

Dastan swiftly scurried through his retinue of droids to reach the double doors. Axe at the ready- he drew on the force deeply- his combat senses allowing him to almost see into the future- his reflexes near lightning fast- he was going to need it. He didn't know how many security guards were inside- but he knew that several people in there were going to be armed. There was going to be chaos- and Dastan would need to take advantage of that.

[Master Buggie]

The moment that the club's proprietor disappeared from the VIP room, the distant inkling within the back of Buggie's mind surfaced to reality. There was a disturbance in the Force coming from just outside the club, and it took the unmistakable form of lives being exhausted like a snuffer being put to a flame. Oddly, there were no screams from beyond the VIP, which signaled to Buggie that there was still time for him to act before danger was brought upon those he was brought here to protect.

Wasting no more time, Buggie strode to the Apex Twins, hauled them up by their lapels and declared, "Time to go."

Their protests, as well as those of their female companions, fell on deaf antennae as Buggie practically dragged them to the hatch controls on the other side of the VIP room. Buggie slapped the access panel that led to his Helix-class light interceptor and unceremoniously shoved the two Givin inside. As the hatch sealed behind them, Buggie promptly ordered his astromech droid, Twitter, to lock down all access aboard his vessel, with the sole exception of his own ability to board. Whatever was coming could not threaten his mission to bring back the twins safely.

Buggie turned to see many of the Apex Twins' admirers still in the VIP room, many still enjoying the libations that had been provided to them. A breath escaped him as he surveyed them all; they were in just as much potential danger as the Twins had been moments before. Did they deserve the same fate as those that had already perished?

Hurrying to the group of followers, Buggie urged, lightsaber hilt in hand, "Something has happened outside the club. Stay here for your safety."

A dozen sets of eyes turned to Buggie with disdain and all he heard before a splash of something frizzy and fruity splattered across his chest was a defiant recommendation that he get karked.

[Salem Norongachi]

The security panels in his office were a cacophony of warning lights and flashing screen displays; Disabled defense turrets, malfunctions in security doors. The com-chatter frequent and panicked. One look over the multitude of security feeds was all he needed to know they were under attack from more than the regular disgruntled gangster. A split decision was all he needed to choose a course of action, the main doors into the nightclub proper sealed themselves shut at the urging from his console. Then thick blast doors fell over those, finally emergency shields slithered over their metallic surface. The patrons of his assaulted establishment were secure -trapped, but secure- from the death and dismemberment that was so close to engulfing them.

He huffed a quiet sigh and stepped out into the corridor, to his left the heavy durasteel security doors that lead down to the main entrance way and the right the VIP rooms. He was just in time to see the Verpine bundle his charges through the airlock and move toward the scene of debauchery of which many hangers-on still remained.

Like him, the Verpine was clearly worried about their safety, although for wildly different reasons; maimings were bad PR and Sal had money to make. So as the drink landed upon the Insectoids carapace, he gritted his teeth and marched up to the doorway behind Buggie. A calm hand attempted to guide the Verpine beyond the threshold while he shot them all an apologetic smirk. "Drink are on me, ladies and gents." with that said, he stepped back, thumbed the code lock to the right and sealed them inside.

"I'd have been cheaper building on Alderaan, I swear..." He muttered to himself as his hand went to a com-link in his jacket pocket. "Door to your left kark-for-brains, its open." his voice went out across the nightclubs internal com-system.

"If this one's for you, I'm billing frakking Mertaal..." Norongachi growled at Buggie.

[Dastan Imatari]

Double-timing to the doors, he took mental inventory- one battle droid, and three wardroids left standing there, inspecting the door. As soon as the doors would open, the people inside would notice the smoking ceiling turret hanging, spitting out sparks, and the lifeless lumps on the floor. It would be a slow roll across the crowd. It wouldn’t be much of a surgical entrance- but then again, he was Sith- not a cowardly assassin.

The muted beat of the music still thumped inside.The champion of the Sith pointed to the doors before the group of droid stormtroopers- "This door opens," then he pointed to the heavy repeaters in the wardroid's claws- "those repeaters go free." He looked to the droids who stood in something of a diamond formation at the ready. They all gave a low crackle of an 'affirmative', accompanied by a nod.

Dastan's heart began to race with anticipation, and the doors hissed open when applying a bit of force telekinesis to the sliding mechanism. The music poured out again, and the dim lights within felt like home. His retinue of droids lurched forward and into the doorway-

Time seemed to slow down, and the screaming started slowly. Blasters began to erupt over the crowd on the dance floor in the center, igniting the air with streaming flashes of red... Bar to the right- the bartender hit the deck and automated turrets activated, dropping from the ceiling. Security inside started to part through the swarming crowds and draw their blasters.

Then a loud clanking, some metallic shuffling, and a dense 'boom' was heard as the main door that lead to the dance floor, bar, and balcony sealed shut. Security measures. Blast doors.

Dastan growled loudly and thrust a hard hammer-fist into the door as he was separated from his droid retinue on the other side. Though to his left, he saw another door- ”...alright” He huffed, Though no sooner than his attentions were brought to the door- it popped open and a large zabrak wearing a security uniform charged immediately.

Inside- The patrons all tried to squeeze as many as they could in the extra rooms, bathrooms, and the entryway as possible. The dance floor began to clear- scattering to the edges of the room, to the bar- and attempting to go into the kitchen door area- as the droids let long squeezes of blaster bolts fly at the defenses. Trading red bolts for what seemed like an eternity. A few unfortunate passersby were caught in the crossfire- as was another security guard. The turrets peppered one of the tank-like warbots enough to finally disable it, jerkily dropping to its knees- (carbon scored all over), then crashing face first into the floor. It seemed a terrifying display, like the droid didn't want to accept it's death. Fighting and clawing to the last before it's lights dimmed.

The large zabrak from back in the hallway charged right into Dastan with his head lowered- his shoulder right to Dastan’s armored gut. Lifted, and continued the charge right into the wall behind the Sith- colliding with a dense thud. His axe dropped from his hands on impact- and he huffed a single exhale when his back collided with the wall… His ears began thumping with his heartbeat, and a dark force rage seemed to take over.. He had the strength to deliver a hefty kick to the man’s groin on reflex. He doubled back, and Dastan’s feet were once again on the floor. Charging in again with a hand cocked back to throw a haymaker- Dastan stepped right in, delivering a thunderous kick to the man’s forward knee, interrupting him. The Zabrak grunted, and dipped the knee, delivering his face right into Dastan’s range for a hard cross with his right fist. Lurching to the side, this allowed Dastan the moment to scurry for the axe- calling it to his hand with the force. Though as soon as it went airborne to fly to his hand- the Zabrak kicked him right in the chest- sending him right back into the wall behind him. The axe flopped aside.

The dance floor was about cleared of patrons. The rooms were still dark. Steam began billowing from the ground and walls from missed blaster shots. The wispy clouds catching the lights and bolts, magnifying them a bit. One war droid was left standing, marching toward the set of stairs that were just to the left of the entrance door- hunting down the final security guard on the balcony.. two turrets hung lifeless, smoking and sparking. A handful of humanoids and droids lie scattered on the dance floor.

Again in the hallway- Dastan’s surprise at the man’s kick gave the Zabrak time to follow up with a few swings- both dodged, and one of which collided with the wall. Using the positioning, and unable to back up any further, the Sith slithered under the man’s large arms, and slinked to the right side. A single right knee right into the man’s right thigh sent him curling toward Dastan with a loud yelp. Reaching up, the sith champion guided the man’s head aside, and put his other arm over and around his neck, twisting him a bit so the man’s neck fit in his elbow between the grip of his bicep and forearm. His right free hand quickly went for his vibro shiv, drawing it, and driving it into the man’s neck with a loud shriek that didn’t seem to want to stop while the blood leaked around the blade. The Zabrak never had a chance.

Sure- Dastan could have destroyed this man with the force- but he was something of a barbarian in these days. He preferred the sinew, physical contact, being able to feel the victory, and domination of the enemy. With a huff through his nostrils- like a beast, he stepped over the man’s slowly wriggling body, and picked up the axe from where it had clattered to.

Time seemed to catch up to him in that moment. His ears were no longer thumping with blood, and his mind not clouded by the promise of first blood.

Prolonged shrieking had all but stopped from inside, the high pitched wails fewer and further in-between. Even from another room- the panic fed Dastan like a sponge dropped in a bucket of water. The patrons left were taking cover upstairs, hollering periodically. The chaos was still rife inside for now... however less so.

... Dastan searched out with his feelings as he made a mad dash toward the door, and the stairs behind it to find the target- the bar owner.. Maybe there was a panic room, offices, or maybe they've made their escape already... Maybe setting a trap..

Another guard threw himself at the ascending Sith, to which Dastan thrust the blunted top of the axe’s blade right under the man’s nose. The blunt edge of the bearded axe blade smashed the man’s teeth, and Dastan hefted the man aside, leaving him tumbling down the rest of the stairs.


Then it hit him as he reached the top of the stairs- broken glass crunching under his wrapped boots.

...... two?[i/]
He felt two force sensitives- one of which came from inside the dance floor area, another came from right nearby-

[Master Buggie]

The unmistakable drum of repeating blasters blistered through the club, followed by shouts and screams of the unarmed and vulnerable attendees. Buggie's senses spiked at that very moment, as he tore himself away from the club proprietor and hovered over the edge of the balcony. His keen eyes were already having trouble discerning what was happening below, as powerful blaster bolts slammed into walls, tables, defenseless civilians, and more. A stray bolt collided with a loudspeaker and sent a hail of sparks coursing over a crowd of frightened young sentients. As the smoke from blaster discharge and steam from the superheated materials that were getting struck brought everything into a haze, the flicker of blasters and, apparently, defense turrets, brought an entirely new and entirely deadly light show to the club floor.

All of this happened in the course of moments; moments of violence that Buggie could not prevent from his current position. Helplessly looking on, Buggie saw one of the turrets flame out, having been struck by a series of repeater rounds. After the second overloaded and exploded, sending debris rifling into the masses trying to escape, Buggie could wait no longer. He couldn't be sure if the turrets would turn on him once he ignited his lightsaber, but he had to stop whatever was happening below before more innocents were hurt.

Hopping atop the balcony railing, Buggie leaped into the brume below. He called upon the Force to guide his fall, and was glad that he did, otherwise he may have fractured his mid-leg ankle joint slipping on the pool of carmine blood that was smeared across the floor. Lightsaber still unignited, Buggie wandered the miasma, unsure where the attackers lurked. It wasn't until he stepped over what remained of a hulking war droid that he understood who had caused the carnage here. Buggie had only seen this particular model of warbot once before, and the unmistakable mark of the Sith served to confirm his suspicions.

Little did Buggie know that only one of the warbots remained, maneuvering in the vapors as he knelt and examined its fallen ally. Distracted, he also failed to realize the danger that he had inadvertently left the club proprietor and, by extension, the Apex Twins in on the balcony above.