abstract
| - Central Area - Incom Y-4 Transport This area is relatively small. However, it contains several critical things to the vessel: A boarding hatch, the vessel's primary crew quarters, and corridors to both the vessel's engineering section and bridge. A series of two dozen bunks is arrayed against one wall, opposite the airlock entrance. To the fore and up is the bridge entrance, and directly aft is a lengthy corridor leading to engineering. The vessel's plating is new, and the construction includes acoustic shielding; making this ship fairly quiet in the interior. Jayeld moves over to pick up his bag from one of the other men crowding the central area. Tucking his rifle and grenades inside. As others do the same, sectioned weapons, explosives, all packed inside, he looks up and twists his mouth into a cold grin, "We're a Xizor transportation systems crew. Act like you've been in space for a long time. And just want to get some drinks, and gambling out. Fall out men." With that, the Storm Commandos, wearing bulky coveralls, and carrying their duffels file out, down the ramp. Landing Pad (Ord Mantell) The landing pads and docking bays of Ord Mantell are arrayed in a tight sprawl around the crest of a high hill overlooking the harborside city and its expansive tavern and casino districts - as well as the grim rust-scented wastes of the Ord Mantell junkyard. Jayeld wanders down the ramp of the Lode Hauler, the rest of his crew in tow, they joke and laugh amongst themselves as they walk, jostling the men beside them. But their lines are a bit too straight, their smiles a little too forced, as they carry on into the city. The Imperials continue on to the Merchant District. Merchant District (Ord Mantell) This seaside city sits on a rugged hill on the shore of a salty harbor, beneath a fruit cocktail sky. A broad street, thick with pedestrian traffic, sidewalk musicians and pickpockets, runs along the hillside, connecting the city's various districts to the sprawling spaceport facility. The buildings of the merchant, casino and tavern districts are domed cylinders of different heights and widths. All of them have the appearance of painted and glazed pottery, with ruddy walls ringed by geometric designs. In the east, barely contained within an encircling metal fence, stands the infamous Ord Mantell junkyard. The doors of the bounty hunters guild are sealed shut, and about 12 rough-looking customers led by a man whose head and arms are wrapped in bandages and rags lurk outside, armed with all kinds of weaponized hardware. The Market District is rapidly clearing of customers, however. Word's getting around, apparently, of trouble incoming. Jayeld walks slowly into the Merchant district, a ragtag looking bunch of men following, all with large duffel sacks slung over their shoulders, and wearing the patches of Xizor Transportation Systems ship crew, as the group of men outside the Guild are noticed, Jayeld sub-vocalises through the commlink beneath his skin, "Looks like trouble, Alpha Squad, distract them. Once they aren't looking, arm up, and take them out." The last for the benefit of his own squad. Alpha Squads distraction comes. In the form of a plasma grenade, arcing through the air, towards the men out front. From a shadowy alcove, bordering a small electronics shop. Dengar snaps a look in the direction of the electronics shop and scowls as he spies the plasma grenade arcing through the air toward the cluster of hunters and thugs outside the guild. He brings his own gun up and opens fire, aiming to blast the device before it can reach them. The plasma grenade is blown out of the air, the explosive deflection sending it whistling into the passenger compartment of a speeder racing through the Merchant District. The driver has just a moment to register surprise at the grenade landing in his lap when FOOMP! - he and the vehicle are so much wreckage strewn across the thoroughfare. As soon as the grenade clears the hand it emerged from, Jayeld is moving, a rifle is tugged from his bag and swung to bear, as the rest of the men with him perform similar actions, two moving to snap together larger, heavier weapons. And all spread out, heading for cover as they start firing. From the grenades original origin, and four other points around the square blaster fire erupts. Targeting the Guilds protectors. "Eh, Dengar, these don't look like normal mercs," a Sullustan twitching at the bandaged man's left says, bringing up his bulky blaster rifle along with the rest of the guild's defenders as they try to drop and open fire on the assailants - pitched as the battle might be, the guilders appear determined to make a stand. Dengar scowls, hoisting his rifle to his shoulder and sighting through it to aim at Jayeld, determined to take out the leader if he can: "Smells like Fett to me." Jayeld twists as the bandaged man fires, the blaster bolt tearing through his coveralls to crackle past the armor beneath, he ducks to the side and brings his own rifle up, aiming for the apparent leader Dengar, and snapping off a shot. By now some of the Storm Commandos have found cover, and begin to return fire of their own, blaster bolts criss crossing the square from Jayeld's men, and the five others still scattered, another man off to Jayelds right stands, attempting to toss another grenade towards the Guild doors, and the people guarding it, a stun grenade this time. The two snipers snap the last components into their weapons and scan for vantage points. Dengar turns as blaster bolts zip toward his ragtag squad outside the Guild building and shouts, "A'right, ya nerfherders, pull it together or Fett wins and the Guild falls. No way he wins! So stay sharp! Stay focused! Stay --" But while he's distracted, playing coach to the team, a shot from Jayeld's rifle sears through the back of his bandaged head and kills him instantly, frying his brain. He collapses in a twitching heap, bandages smoldering, rifle falling to his right. The Sullustan and his 10 other companions growl and shout in anger and surprise, targeting the attackers and opening fire. Another close shot, Jayeld's execution of their leader apparently doesn't sit well, as another blaster bolt skitters off his underlying armor. No orders are given to the well drilled Imperials as they find their cover and pour blaster bolts into the defenders in a searing crossfire. One of the snipers wriggles under a stall, rifle protruding as he fires methodically at the defenders. Jayeld raises his rifle again, picking the closest Guild target. The onslaught from the Imperials is relentless and accurate, blaster bolts picking off targets left and right of the Sullustan, whose gaze darts frantically about as he watches compatriots falling under the brutal barrage. The defenders number only three, and they've made no progress against the invaders. None of those still standing says a word - they just run in three different directions, angling away from the guild and making tracks for safety. The order wasn't only to destroy the Bounty Hunters Guild Hall. The Bounty Hunters Guild in its entirety was the order. The Imperials track the fleeing defenders, splitting their fire between the last three targets to stand between them, and the door. Jayeld snaps off a shot at the Sullustan and vocalizes into the commnet, "Proton grenade. Blow the door. Watch for traps." As the closest commando to the door tugs a grenade from his bag and moves towards the durasteel barrier. It's not much of a challenge, really. One after another, the fleeing former defenders are taken down. The first, a Rodian, takes a shot in the back and goes down sprawling, unmoving. The second, a Trandoshan, roars in anger as he's hit in the right leg, but the roar is silenced when a second blaster bolt hits him in the chest as he spins around. Down he goes, motionless. The scampering Sullustan is almost to the wreckage of the exploded speeder. He arcs left, hoping to get around the smoldering wreckage so anyone tracking him will have their aim obscured. But his little legs aren't fast enough: Jayeld's shot hits him right between the shoulder blades, and down he goes. Meanwhile, the commando sets off the proton grenade, rending the front door of the guild with a burst of explosive violence. The Bounty Hunters Guild now lies open and defenseless. Jayeld tilts his head as he tugs a small mask and a pair of grenades from his bag, slipping the mask on and tucking the grenades away. "Arm up. Helmets on, kill everything inside. Alpha, stay here and watch our backs. Bravo, with me, sweep and destroy. Charlie, set the explosives, ten minute timer, tamper-proof. Make sure this entire place is gone. Move out." And with that, the man hefts his rifle again, the rest of the men snapping helmets on, coveralls dropped to the ground, and just the black of Storm Commandos showing. Five Minutes passes, with the Storm Commandos inside, and only the occasional blaster shot to be heard The Commandos emerge from the Guild hall, "Five minutes left. Let's go, dust off in ten." Jayeld states as the Imperials spread out, moving in a rough star formation away from the building, the others linking up and falling in as they make their way towards the main thoroughfare. Armored, rifles up. They can be mistaken for nothing but Imperial troopers. Five seconds...four...three...two...one.... Just as people are starting to poke their heads out of windows, doorways and corner alcoves to watch the departure of the troopers, the explosives within the belly of the crippled guild detonate with a thunderous clap and a boom. The building erupts in torrents of flame and smoke. Debris whistles through the air, shattering windows and pelting shrieking onlookers. As a twisting, roiling column of black smoke writhes against the fruit cocktail-hued sunset sky, one particularly large piece of debris completes an upward arc and begins a plummeting descent to earth. A landspeeder just narrowly gets out from under the pointed chunk of debris, which impales the street about 100 feet from the ruins of the guild. It's half of the shattered obelisk from the guild, engraved with the bounty hunter's code, which is now seared from heat and largely obscured by carbon scoring. One phrase is legible, however: "slay another hunter."
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