Log:Canto Bight Goodbye!

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Canto Bight Goodbye!

OOC Date: April 18, 2020
Location: Grand Cantonica Casino - Canto Bight, Cantonica
Participants: Eriu Jynx as GM, Aryn Cole, Netep Muri, Ban Iskender, Iollan Canem, D4-K4, Vena, Domino Graystorm, Sajin

Its evening and the casino is filled with the sounds of its patrons. Machines chime out or blare a negative, suffering the din to be spontaneous and poignant to each person. Tables are nearly filled and the room itself is alive with the energy of far too many people willing to risk far too much. The rich and opulent rub shoulders with the questionable and criminal - sometimes one and the same. Some are slipping towards the balconies and archways to find positions for the fireworks while figures in clean cut uniforms run drinks around here and there.

Several booths line one of the walls and they are large enough to hold a decent size party. Is is here that a small group sits, a few who look a little too tense who stand and watch the room. A red head leans in to speak to an older looking humanoid with grey streaking his hair and a trimmed beard to sharpen his features.

A dark case is offered over the table, like a winning's locker and it is opened quickly. There is a nod from the gorgeous woman and she presses her palm to the table and towards him. He reaches out to take her hand, lift it and kiss it before releasing it and skimming his hand against her palm.

Drinks are motioned for and the woman hesitates but acquiesces as the small winnings locker is drawn off the table and set at her side. She watches as flutes of some sort of champagne are brought and she is given one. TOAST!

Somewhere not far away a woman goes wild as she hits the jackpot on the slots!


Aryn Cole is standing at one of the parlor balconies, leaning against the railing and looking out over the scenery. She is a blonde woman, short and nimble with small shoulders that are bolstered slightly by the presence of a white and green-trimmed cape. Her tunic is comprised of a white shirt with sleeves that fed into leather bracers. Her pants matched, and were tucked into tall black boots with cuffed leather of the finest quality. In one glance, Aryn's appearance spoke to money; the kind of old money that was tied to a name, a noble name. The sigil for her house was engraved upon a white-gold broach that kept her cape fastened loosely over her shoulder.

Aryn wore black belt, and from it hung a single cylindrical tool of dull grey. It was not in plain view given the proximity of her cape, but if she moved or brushed the cape back, it would be in open sight.

Leaning forward to find the breeze welcoming, Aryn smiled, and held a cup of tasty brandy between both hands. "Fire works will be a welcome sight to close the week."


Carnage. Carnage is what awaits Muri at the slots, for sure, so maybe it's a good thing Iollan didn't dress all proper like. She can only take so much shock in one sitting. Liquor helps, though. Netep swishes her way comfortably through into the opulence that she honestly eschews most of the year. But now and again, you just need to treat yourself.

That is precisely what she's here for. High hair, fancy clothes, and some loose change burning holes in non existent pockets. Three night ago she was passed out on the beach, full of sand and sadness. Today she's looking like a new woman. Showers are cool like that. "So, Mr anti-gamble," she intones upward to the taller figure in company. "If you'll point out a 'sure thing', I will supply the cred. But first a drink?" Ban Iskender is dressed in an elegant grey formal tunic, surmounted by a white sash. A green half-cape is secured over one shoulder, its gold cord crossing his chest with an elaborate knot. A curved sword in an intricate sheath hangs at his left side, while a showpiece blaster pistol is holstered on his right thigh. Close fitting trousers and tall boots lend him the look of a military gentleman as he stands straight backed beside Aryn, a glass in one gloved hand, the other resting on the balcony railing. "As you say, my Lady. There are few displays quite like it," he answers with even good humor.


Iollam is a creature of habit. Or, at least patterns. Same as last time he trawled in here, he arrives fashionably late and woefully under dressed; same leather jacket, same boots, grey henley, gloves; not a bad look, but nothing to draw attention in the glittering myriad of Canto. Perhaps he simply doesn't own anything else. But, there must be some bonus points awarded because it's him wearing it, right? When you're tall and handom enough, most looks are permissible.

Regardless, the drift of his rolling stride takes him into the open casino with a bit of distraction, namely directed to the datapad in hand. A thumb scrolls over the files there, brows drawn lightly at whatever he's reading. A sudden email? Unpaid bill? Who could say. In a few seconds it seems he decides whatever it is can wait til after he's relieved of a few credits; the device is stowed and he instead flickers attention to the person he'd wandered in with.

"Oh, I don't think they appreciate me saying 'sure thing' too loud in here, darling," hums his smokey amusement, though he follows along. "A drink, yes." First things first.


This is ridiculous.

This is the worst thing ever.

"You said you loved me!!" optic band pressed up against the readout of the machine. D4 stands on the brink of heartbreak. It lied to it. It wasn't love, that it was feeling. It wasn't the love that it was re-charge cycle entertainment display randomization loop broadcasting of! And Serva-Bot was in maintenance. This machine had called it over. There were so -many- things it wanted to say, because it liked its slot machines a little bit older.

It really just wanted to use its love...

TONIIII-IIII-IIIGHT!! It didn't want to lose its love... Tonight.


There's probably other Chiss here, but they might not be as old or distinguished looking as Commander Vena'nratha. She's dressed in all black this evening except for the white jacket that she wears over the pants and top. Her black and grey hair is brushed back and regal looking this evening. Her red gaze looks over the crowd that is gathering tonight and then she heads for the bar to take up a seat at the end to where she can keep an eye on things. A drink is ordered before she settles in for the moment.


Domino sashays in, her hair sweeping gently across the valley between her mostly bare shoulderblades as she goes. For Dom, tonight's style is understated with just the right balance of harlot chic for Canto bright as large kohl lined hazel eyes sweep the room scanning for familiar faces.


The fireworks! Speaking of which a few are set off with a tell tale FWOOM FWOOM of the cannons emitting the packed explosive material that upon hitting a certain range ignites and peppers the air with a variety of colors and shapes. It draws more people than those who had been prepared for it and the general conversation away from the slot machines can be said to fill with ohhs and ahhs. Light conversation is continued as more fireworks hit the sky.

CRACKLE SIZZLE BOOM

The booth where the redhead sit is approached by a few figures, their weapons not drawn but looking ready to have a rather forceful conversation with the man she sits with. Bearded man, a figure of the Krayta Accord looks rather surprised and as he stands up and encourages his female companion to remain seated she starts to slowly scoot out the other side of the booth but is stopped by one of the group that has newly approached. The Krayta Accord agent is quick to pause as he gets to his feet and there suddenly is a loud sound and it mixes with the sound of the fireworks.

PEW

Only those nearby react as the Krayta Accord man drops to the ground, holding his smoking chest and a few nearby figures cry out and start running. The other Krayta Accord employees draw their guns and the redhead drops below the table, gripping the container as a firefight ensues endangering anyone near them.


The first plume of the fireworks goes off without a hitch, the scarlet of explosives expanding high above and showering down sparkles that decorated the face of the parlor Aryn and Ban occupied with red. Aryn's eyes lit up as a relaxed sigh was released. A slow sip of her brandy followed and Aryn seemed at peace.

Until something caught her attention. Call it an internal alarm of sorts that drew her attention from the display to glance behind her, past the transparisteel windows and into the casino itself.

"Something's wrong, Ban. I can feel it." She was not witness to, or did not hear, the blaster shots for the sound of fireworks but she had picked up on other aspects. When people began to stampede out of the way, Aryn triggered her personal shield deflector.

A blue aura formed around her body, shimmering blue at first before turning transparent. She brushes her cape aside and unclips the hilt from her belt. Another shift of the cape sees it cast over her shoulder and the Jedi moves into view to peek inside and see what's going on. She has not activated her weapon yet, but it is in view.


"Whisper it, then," Netep suggests with a blue brow waggle and navigates the floor to the nearest booze dispensery. She skims the tables they pass by, sizing up players and credit stacks on the fly. Thoughts for later. "The sunfruit, please," she tells the bar bot when it's time, and flashes a grin aside to the plainclothes PI. "Coruscanti kriffers pay top cred for this on the market, but here you ca--"

Shut your hole, Netep. Fireworks! Like so many others, her head turns with childish wonder toward the happenings outside (pre stampede), complete with useless lean that is NOT going to grant her a better view. It does save her ass, though. Some feathery fringe on her capelet wilts from the passing heat of a stray blaster bolt.

Cue belated gasp of horror. At least she's paying attention NOW. BIG eyes go on a frantic search while her hands fumble with that stupid handbag. Lipstick, dropped. Cred-er-keep. Something else, dropped. Czerka Found. The kiss of cold metal in her grip is an unwelcome one, but feels a little necessary. One hand pats blindly back at Iollan with the words "you see what's going on," before she turns to see any damage done. Oop. Perhqps what missed her found a mark, after all.


A faint smile had been touching Ban's solemn expression as the fireworks began. Offering a warm, "We endure," aside to Aryn and touching his glass to hers, the gentleman takes a sip, before the chaos and blaster-fire breaks out on the casino floor below them. "Alas, you are all too correct, Highness," he laments evenly, drawing one last sip before setting the glass aside, activating his own personal shield, and drawing his own weapon while moving alongside Aryn. "Shall we?"


The promise of a drink and, just maybe, a bit of too friendly banter while they watch some fireworks is enough to keep Iollan occupied on the little walk towards the slots. This is practically a vacation, after all, and the absent air about him suggests as much. They're to the bar by the time the fireworks begin in earnest, and the detective allows some of that interest to spill upwards to catch some of the glimmer, watching for a--

Ouch. No, that's not right. The sudden intense burn of plasma skimming over his shoulder jerks the PI back to motion.

"Every f--" The curse snaps off into nothing as he pivots, hand catching the blaster at his hip in a practiced motion as he spies the perpetrates as best he can, leveraging at least some line of sight from how he got shot. His free hand snares Muri's arm nearby, dragging her a bit closer to the cover of the slot machines, without asking. "Can't have one damn night, huh?"


Blaster bolts go off around D4-K4 and the old war droid brings itself upright, right arm raising, twisting and then snapping out straight with blaster barrel extended.

"Woah! WOAH!!" it looks for a man at the back, "Who said everyone attack!?" this has turned into a ballroom blitz.

It swivels and turns, optic band going an angry red and it follows bolt trajectory data in its sensors. Logic lines draw to a specific individual and the Droid points,

"Stunned or awake you're coming with me! Maybe. Unless I can't find you in the mass of the dead, downed, dying, or I don't feel like it!" It's not a typical stun ring, it's like a shotgun burst of energy pellets that cluster and spin... and blast some poor kriffer across the room.


Vena's glass is delivered. The Chiss exchanging a murmur of thanks and a nod of her head to the tender for being a good sport. The glass starts to raise to her lips and it stops a hairs breath away due to the sudden EXPLOSION of action and blaster bolts flying across the expanse of the casino. There is a growl from the Imperial relic and she turns a little to see just exactly where they came from. She stands, sweeping the jacket back and unsheathing one of the two vibrodaggers she has, someone was about to get rekked up for ruining her evening.


Domino jerks and stumbles back at the sudden commotion, eyes wide around in startlement but even while others are still gawping she recovers quickly and there's a clear and disctinct "Nope!" as she turns in place and finds a row of slots against a wall, standing up strait, pressing her breasts flat with her hands and sucking in her breath she shimmies behind the solid metal cover. Lalala.


Chaos. Slowly the ripple effect occurs and cries are going up that spread outward from the eye of the storm. The Black Sun and Krayta Accord are engaged and the collateral damage begins. Already a few richly adorned humanoids have fallen and lay prone on the ground. Most of the patrons are hiding behing machines as the cheers and growls of defeat are quickly changing to cries of fear and panic. Some continue to get further from the scene but a few more are cut down.

The stun bolt from D4 drops an Accord member who lays there stunned and prone. A black sun agent goes down, still moving but severely hurt. The Krayta accord begin to fall, outnumbered by the other agents. Others are shooting at them two and one agent catches sight of D4's intended shot and aims for the droid. "THEY HAVE BATTLE DROIDS!!" he cries out.

The redhead beneath the table is covering her head with the small case as she tries to edge out and look for a way around. She starts to pull herself up the side of the booth but a blaster shot goes straight into the back of the seat near her hand. She cries out and ducks again.


"We shall." Aryn says casually, stepping into the open through the threshold of the parlor and into the main atrium. Moving with her hand forward, Aryn observes a shootout taking place between two factions, where civilians are carelessly targeted and dispatched upon the ground. "This goes beyond diplomacy." Aryn says, feeling a sudden clarity of duty surface as she spots a man toting the sigil of the Black Sun. "They've killed civilians. This must stop!"

Punctuating this declaration, Aryn activates her Jedi weapon with a distinct SNAP-HISS. The sapphire blue blad emerges from the hilt, humming with even the most subtle motion. The blade extends to its full 1.2m just as the small Jedi spins the weapon into a salute, the Senior agent her chosen target and he knows it. She swings a trio of times, stepping toward him on a fine line, her strikes deliberate, elegant, and curt, but the man is well accustomed to moving quickly and evades the touch of her sword.


"Tell me about it," Muri grumps az she's whisked away by the arm, feet scurrying fast as they go to keep pace with Iollan's big boy strides. Feathers float oh so gracefully behind. "Are you...droyk, they got you." One finger goes up to inspect the singed sleeve before she can stop herself. It can't be helped. A deep knit line of worry exes out whatever smartass reply was on the tip of her tongue and she obediently cowers beside the machine. But not without popping off a well-intended shot at one of the Black Sun miscreants for putting a black spot on the evening's delight.

It's not worth doing - this is what the sagelike bottlecap fortune said and it's words she ought to have liatened to, buuuut....*PEW*

A fleeing civvie near that Black Sun agent gets clipped in the arm on their way by. They ran right into it....she swears! Oh no. DID she so that??? Both of Muri's hands clap down over her mouth. Then eyes. Ducking head with shamed grimace.


"Why is that wherever we go, we become encumbered with piracy?" Ban wonders of Aryn as the two step to intervene in the unfolding bloodbath. "On your right," he adds as Aryn's energy sword springs to life. Raising his pistol straight-armed in fine dueling form, he fires a pair of bolts at the most dangerous looking of the bunch as the fellow backpedals from Aryn, one shot taking his target in the leg.


It's been a while since he's had a gunfight in an open civilian sector. Likely for the best. But, needs must, and the detective makes himself useful as can be for the moment. His back stays firmly to one of the slots machines for cover as plasma flies this way and that, and-- is that a lightsaber? Eyes close for a moment in some silent pray or curse before going on. Whatever poking Muri is doing at his singed shoulder goes without rebuttal. "You know," growls out, good natured still, as he peaks over the top for a look at who's who. "I'm starting to think you just take me places to get shot, Muri."

Combat is more important than quips though. A quick twist has Iollan aiming over to squeeze off three quick shots, aiming at whoever has a blaster and a bad look, but damn there's a lot of innocents around. A lot of everyone. The shots go wide before he ducks back down, still keeping eyes on.


Shot!

"HEY!! You shot me!!" D4's still limbered arm flails as it whirls towards the next subject tracked on its HUD.

"You shot me right in my aft!" Shot in the aft plate! Who does that!?

"WHO DOES THAT!?!" There's an echo. It's in D4's head... area... There's no head. Just a face bulged thing. Great. "How is this affecting my audial reception and replay matrix?! There's an echo!? HOW DO I HEAR WITH MY AFT!? WHO DESIGNED ME?!" Geonosians.

"GEONOSIANS!!!"

And so! The Geonosian droid, decades past the war it was built for unleashed zap upon the zapping! And it was good. For the target of its wrath was SMOTE by blue stun blasts.


"Listen here you sorry excuse for a breathing apparatus..." Vena states in a clipped tone as she stalks towards the first of the Black Sun agents and there's a moment taken to apply pressure to the grip of her dagger. Then the blue lady is slicing and thrusting the dagger into the man. Usually she'd go for diplomacy, but with people opening fire on a room full of mixed company she has little sympathy for the blood she's spilling.


Domino is pressed backagainst the wall and then she notices if she crouches there's more room to get cozy. Now more cozy as the heroes battle the scum and villainy of black sun and their thugs. Dom secured in her cover tugs out her toolkit from her haversack and while everyone's nice and diverted begins to help herself to the contents of the slot machines one at a time.


Sajin had been here, sitting at a table. HE might not of stood out, though probably did amongst the fancier dressed folks. An armed person in Void Armor with Shadow plates attached would probably draw a few curious looks. "Man..." He said to himself as he finished up a meal, "That guy wanted way too much money for some LEGAL guns. How am I ever going to get Drik some cheap weapons..." The King of Drik didn't even see anyone he might have known come in, he was just too busy absorbed into his own thoughts. However, the tell tale sign of blaster fire and combat erupted around him. He turned his head, seeing the agressors and their collateral damage. Wait, was that Princess Aryn... Lord Ban... "WHAT?" He stands, flipping the table over comically, drawing his DL-44 and just letting his blaster bolts fly into some thugs. "I DARE SAY HOW DARE YOU! SAY.... DARE... OH JUST DIE!" He final shot goes wide, slamming into a wall behind the agressors.


"There is one under the table!" A growl from a black sun agent sounds out and his gun goes off, very nearly scorching the red head known as EJ below the table. The poor winning trunk though has a blaster hole in its corner and its smoking. She scrambles back further to the base of the booth seat and below the table as she curls up on herself to make her already petite form smaller.

The Krayta Accord and Black Sun do not give up on each other but now that there is a blue lightsaber wielding figure and other blaster fire they are starting to split their focus. The leading agent of the Black Sun is quick to move, managing to stay free of Aryn and her saber but it means he is distracted enough by the Jedi to be taken down by both Ban and Sajin. Falling into a smoking heap the other Black Sun hesitate and lose a bit of their moxy. Shots ring out around the place as more people fall bystanders and those wielding weapons.

One bolt in particular is bound for a poor stud nugget but Aryn with enough focus and sense steps in its path. The red sizzling scorching bolt hits the blue of the saber and makes a screechingh sound before redirected right back at the Krayta member as it takes him down and sends him onto his back just beside EJ. Vena on the other hand goes for something visceral and the man lays prone, bleeding out and unable to move as he holds the blade wounds. Blood is everywhere. That beautiful rich carpet flooring is never gonna come clean.

The call for security goes over the Casino's speakers.


Aryn circles, her lightsaber held low and to her side while witnessing the King of Drik (Sajin) and Lord Ban gun down the very man she engaged. "Spectacular shooting, gentlemen." Then she's moving forward as another volley of blaster fire erupts between the factions. Either by chance, or through some mystic arrangement of the Force, Aryn arrives near Iollan, placing her back to the man. She is mid-spin with her weapon, guiding the bright blue energy of the blade to intercept a blaster bolt that had him dead-to-rights. Its connection with her weapon is brief, and she thrusts the blade forward with practiced efficiency to send the bolt back to its point of origin.

The bolt smacks the Black Sun man hard in the shoulder earning a loud cry of anguish as he set to retreating out of pain and instinct. Aryn steps forward, slicing horizontally across the injured Black Sun's fellow, whose chest armor pieces is bisected instantly by the bite of Aryn's lightsaber. Her blade bites deep, tracing mortally over their torso and emerging from his side in a brief spray of fabric embers that flutter down separately of the body that collapses in front of the Jedi.

Her flurry has not concluded, for the man she had injured yet remains and it is to him she closes the distance. A horizontal swing is met with the receiver of his weapon which he used in a vain attempt to block her. The result was opposite, for she cut the rifle in half and parted him from his arm. He fell backward half in terror and half in shock, screaming and clearly mortified to see his own arm severed and steaming before him. The sight rendered him unconscious moments after, and by then the caped Jedi moved on to the next threat.


"I-I-I can't.." Muri's losing grip on her pistol and her psyche, sucking anxious breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth. Breath which never even got the chance to smell like whiskey, dammit. She shot somebody. The Wrong somebody. Night RUINED. But, it could be worse. "I do NOT!" she lamely refutes Iollan's joking claim with a less friendly growl of her own. Like a little sand panther cub, mewing in fury.

She attempts to time her own shots on the offbeat from his. He shoots, she hides. He ducks, she pops up like a profogg from her hole. Just in time to witness a whirl of light saber within spitting distance "WHAT!?" Muri gawks at the doctor who hired her to muck with those undead people. Kriffin nightmarish job, that. Where was this mythical weapon then!? Maybe she was too busy bleeding at the time to notice. But she notices now!! Oh shavit, she's off count.

PEW

By some miracle, her terrible aim strikes something acceptable, even if they are already almost a corpse. Huzzah!


Ban Iskender offers a tight smile and short dip of the head to Sajin as the Drikish warrior reveals himself. "I should know you signature subtlety anywhere, sir." A nod back to Aryn, and he notes the crowd of combatants thinning. Switching his pistol to subdual with the click of a thumb, he fires twice more at the perceived aggressors. "Gentlemen: I strongly advise you yield. Despite its striking hue, that lightsaber lacks any 'stun' setting."


"We didn't even get our drinks." Such a flat, offhand observation. Keyed with nothing be honest remorse as Iollan maintains the back and forth with Muri. A quick glance her way holds so note of assessment, as if he might pause the shooting to make sure there isn't actually an impending panic attack, but it seems they haven't the luxury. Too bad. One last bolt skims wide before he has to pause, flicking the empty cartridge from of his 44c with a deft hook of the wrist, making to reload with his eyes still on the commotion.

Oh, that's close. A lot of blue, right by his face.

"Evening, Doctor," lofts the amiable greeting over Aryn when she is most suddenly in view. There's a wink, a crooked, too-easy grin, as the detective straightens a bit from the slots, attention split over the combatants will up. "buy you a drink after this?" She should have let him get shot.


Brave, aft shot droid! Brave and true! No other shall know justice like you do! Mourning for its buttocks! How it dislikes these people! They shot at it! They melted it's perfect rear plate!

A cracked panel splits and a small stone brick drops out, onto the ground, between its feet.

Now they've done it.

"VENGEANCE!!!" Declared by Droid kind! RAGE PROTOCOLS ENGAGED! ACCESSING FILE ... ACCESSING FILE ... KILL DROID PROTOCOL ACTIVE

"NOW COMES YOUR END KNAVES! YOU SHALL KNOW ONLY THE BLUE TINGLY BALLS OF JUSTICE! SMASHED UPON YOU!" Five decades without a wipe. Blue clusters of stun-balls crash into the chest of another. The sweet release of sleep granted as the criminal tumbles to the floor.

One hand twitches.

One eye open, the other rolls back.

It's energy for men.


Vena gives a look down to the guy that's definitely not going to be getting off the floor. Well, may as well do the civil thing and end his suffering. The Chiss is stone faced as she delivers a killing blow and then she moves on to the next closest target. Apparently the Big Blue Meanie was on a roll tonight. She takes out the next target with a grim look. Maybe it's over the ruined outing. Or maybe it's because of all the blood on her nice white jacket.


Sajin looks to Ban, blinking. There is a long moment, as if the poor handsome Hapan was trying to process something. "Was... did you just speak basic or... what did you say?" It's official, the King of Drik had no clue what the Alderaanian Lord just said to him. This is not unexpected however. Reguardless, blots still fly and the King turns his DL-44 on the Black Sun Goons once more, taking another down with a less skilled and more lucky double tap!


More of the confronting groups are falling and there is a rather gruesome scene where two Black Sun agents are mutilated by a vibrodagger. The blood is soaking into the carpet under the table and the red head known as EJ is looking a little pale. SHe's holding a container against her chest as she waits it out but there still more fire, more blades more everything and she is not dressed for this. The emerald number slit up one side and hanging low in the back is hardly armor.

Bystanders have been downed and as several more hit the groudn thanks to skilled shots there is but one lone Black Sun Agent still breathing and even he feels the bite of a reflected blaster bolt met for Netep. It hits his chest and he staggers. The Krayta Accord known for their relic acquisitions and special item recovery is down and out, one left standing as Casino security comes rushing in from several sides, letting loose stun shots towards all those armed.

Which unfortunately means armed bystanders as well. Two shots sent Aryn's wait because who really misses the presence of a saber? Not those two. Netep however is unlucky and finds a casino guard coming in from behind has a better angle and aim. The call goes out and they certainly follow the shoot first ask questions later.

"LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS! SECURITY!" Panic is still going on, people screaming, some people crying. Drinks spilled and general chaos. One guard even notes DOmino doing something suspicious but misses her thankfully.

EJ starts to scoot out then slowly, right through bood soaked into the carpet.


Aryn's course takes her to Muri, who despite the chaos, has somehow become a victim of someone's aim. They fire a bolt that is intended for her and Aryn intercepts it with a low block. The bolt is cast back to its point of origin, leaving the man stumbling and obviously in pain. When security arrive, Aryn turns at their declaration.

Despite being a samaritan in this unfortunate debacle, she is targeted by two guards who fire stun arrays.

She moves her upper body slightly to avoid the first, and side steps the second as casually one might move through a rehearsed dance. Her lightsaber blade retreats with a metallic squeal and she hooks the weapon back upon her belt. "My quarrel is not with you, gentlemen. Please, I surrender. We were responding to these heinous men firing upon innocent people. Those who are alive are despondent and ready for apprehension." Aryn raises her hands in surrender.


"I've got a bottle in my bag," Netep's blue crest of curls peers out around the opposite side of the slot machine, trusting Iollan with her six for a sec "We can still have that ..." while she checks out the view from this waaaay - oh snap.

On one hand, Muri doesn't see her own near death experience being averted at the last moment. But on the other...

She still catches one between the eyes. Like a fallen swan, only with less grace, Muri squawks a too-late note of alarm and crumples into a limp (maybe a bit twitchy) heap against Iollan/at his heels.

This is a terrible night out.


Ban Iskender answers Sajin to rephrase his prior words more simply: "A greeting, sir." He turns back to see the stun bolts of casino security flying, deftly sidestepping one aimed at him, as he returns the pistol in hand to its holster, presenting both empty, gloved hands at his sides. "Magnificent blade work, my Lady," he commends Aryn, aside. Adding to get appeal, he assures the security personnel with steady dignity, "As the Lady has said: we will comply with all lawful instructions, gentlemen." Idly noting the previously abandoned flute, he samples the brandy again.


Iollan is less keen to surrender. Old habits. As yet more armed figures pour into the space, his blaster stays in hand, though kept towards the floor up until another humming bold comes way. Like a flinch Lan ducks a little, eyeing another target nearby before there's a sudden weight against his leg. A little off-balance, the detective staggers as his right hand comes down, grasping at-- oh, Muri. This is a bad night out.

Stooping a bit, he reaches to find a shoulder, stopping her from completely collapsing in a sad heap, but leaving her sort of propped against one of the machines. The more pressing issue is the wave of security, some of them clearly noticing he's still armed. Straightening again, both hands come up in a 'don't shoot' posture as the detective offers only a smooth: "Hey, lads, keep it civil, yeah? Just a misunderstanding."


You're fighting in the casino. There's blaster bolts every where and your comm is dead... And then you spot her! Vena'nratha!! She's charging at you from thirty feet back! She pulls out vibro daggers! SHE'S LUNGING AT YOU! Vena'nratha!

You're desperately trying to defend with your blaster! But she's on top of you and you can see there's blood on her face! BY SPACE THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!

D4 turns to look at the horror the chiss is doing...

Divested from their life by Vena'nratha! She's brandishing a knife! It's Vena'nratha! Stabbing in the casinoooooooo! Former Imperial Vena'nratha! Chasing through the aisles! (Vena'nratha!) Killing for sport! (Vena'nratha!) Eating all the bodiiieees! Actual cannibal Vena'nratha!

Well not really. She hasn't eaten anyone. Also security is here, shootin' nets. Ha. Nets. At least the little blonde is getting things talked out... It bends to get its brick. It's not cracked. This calls for celebration.

The dance is bad. It's terrible. Arms bent 80 degrees, Elbows locked at the ribs like section of its torso if it was a human. Hip shimmy. Hip shimmy. This is its home.

"THERE'S A BATTLE DROID OVER THERE!" "IONIZE IT!"

D4-K4 does what any droid at that declaration would do.

"AHH!" and then it sprints. Ion bolts raining all around it! A hailstorm! It dives! It dips! It weaves! It gets tagged in the back of the leg, right in the second actuator! It stumbles! Runs!

"AW! AW NO! AW! I was an adventurer! And then I took an ion bolt to the knee!!"

Guard duty now.

Bastards.


Vena might be nearing seventy, but, the woman isn't out of shape. Nor is she one to continue to brandish a weapon when security tells her to lay down her arms. The vibrodagger is disengaged, sheathed and then she raises her hands, "Seemed like you were going to have a lot more dead folks on your hands that were not the ones that started the mess unless someone stepped in." she states crisply. There's blood on her hands and all over her jacket, so...she's probably not the most approachable looking.


Domino jerks and issues a girlish shriek as she's fired on-fortunately missed! She comes crawling out, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she stops there on her knees with her hands up though they shake in apparent terror, "I-I-*hic* Was just h-h-hiding! P-P-Please don't h-h-hurt me!" she blubbers, one of her lash extension threatening to dislodge with the waterworks and fearful quaking.


Sajin stands there with his DL-44 in his hand, giving a nod to Ban before looking towards the Security personel. "It was the dead people on the floor. They started it... Just... don't touch me in a weird place if we're going in for questioning... I have standards."


EJ gets so far as the next booth over, her dress somewhat covered in blood, the container in her arms and she is getting to her feet when security arrives. "KRIFFING HELL!" She drops back dwon and as Muri goes down - Eriu misses this. Aryn's words seem to do a great deal to sooth the security and Ban's added calm and words bring down several guns. Jedi. They have a moment to recognize what Aryn might be exactly and there is some concern. Unfortunately D4 is a threat. Droids are a threat and he's shot at by all five.

It means that Vena's questionable involvement and blood covered jacket are given looks. "HOLD RIGHT THERE MISS!" This is an order by the sounds of is several start to move towards her with stun guns lifted. "Put down your weapon, we need to take you in for questioning. In fact we need to take any armed figures in for questioning." Iollan is noted, but as he is complying there is no direct order given to him. Netep is thankfully sleeping through this but will likely be brought in.

Domino is not currently wielding so she is overlooked though later review of the footage by security will likely bring about a bigger problem. EJ is looked at, still a little shaken as she sits there and they consider her a none threat.

They are not wrong.

Sajin gets a weird look and there is a clearing of a throat. "Yes there will be questioning! No touching!" That is added quickly after before the guards begin to move and gather everyone up. Questioning and taking of idents happens smoothly, quickly even and once everyone has been run through and matched their statements are taken and they are released right back into the casino with the offering of a free night, food and drinks for being caught in the middle of an 'unfortunate event'.