Log:Going Once, Going Twice....Sold. MAYHEM.

A potential auction turns into an all-out gangwar.

OOC Date: January 2, 2016
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Gren Delede, Sar Yavok, Lofty, R5-DT, Ascalon, Russ Ordo, Fenwick Mare, Kelnas, Rebel Yell

Nar Shaddaa. What a shithole. And this is the unplunged, skidmarked shittiest hole of them all, possibly. Junk dealers, drug dealers, pimps and hos

line the paths on this lower level. There is the everpresent sound of screaming in the distance, and often the whine of a blaster. Oblivious to all of this,

Gren Delede trundles down the street, swigging from a bottle, and jabbering over his shoulder to a pair of droids that follow. A small bartender droid is

carrying his drinks, and an eight foot tall Law Enforcement droid is acting as what passes for his security. It is unsurprising that this particular droid

receiving some verbal abuse from the locals. "Awww, don't listen to 'em, GS. You're great. Just bloody great. Can't wait until your namesake meets you.

He'll love it." That rendevous has to be somewhere around here, doesn't it? A shady tech dealer auctioning off old wonders? That's absolutely the kind of

thing that he just had to invite Sar and Fenwick to come bankroll.

Kelnas wasn't much for showy weapons and the like, and so it is that the Blue skinned Wroonian makes his way through he area. Metal quarterstaff slung from

his back. Having heard that there was tech to be auctioned, the good natured smuggler was on his way, whistling cheerfully despite the surroundings. By page to Sar Yavok (Sar) - Gren Delede (GD) says, "Help me keep track of pose order, yeah?" Sar Yavok has been posted up against an unmanned speeder bike for quite some time, after receiving the notification from Gren. The man checks his

chronometer before he hears the familiar tones of a his business partner. He looks up and spots Gren, tilting his head, "Please don't tell me you just blew

a bunch of money on droids, Delede."

Lofty, a giant white-furred Talz, is down here for the tech auction. He needs a set of power couplings for an old Muurian Transport and originals can be

difficult to find. He is doing business with a marketeer on the side of the path right now, cooing in awkward Huttese, but the deal comes to nothing. And so

the large woolly alien waddles on toward the auction.

Ascalon is just the sort of being to blow a lot of money on droids. Then again they are usually resold or integrated into the network, so it is argued that

it is justified. The droid has a pistol at its side, but it seems to be more intended to remind others of its presence than to actually be drawn. That aside

though, if there is old technology Ascalon of course will want to bid...could be some interesting pieces, could even be some old friends amidst the scrap

heap. The droid soundlessly passes into the site where there is to be the meetup, single obvious optic surveilling any parties that may have also come with

the same idea. Long, slender gray fingers twitch underneath the overlong sleeves of his jacket, but otherwise there is little sign of movement from the

droid once it reaches an apprpopriate vantage point.

Shady tech deals often mean illegal weapon mods, or perhaps even things he can use to soupe up the thunderheart even further. Hell maybe even some of the

less than legal droid varieties out there. As always Russ is dressed in his full suit of new age Mandalorian armour, his t-visored helmet firmly in place.

The hilt of a sword can be seen over his right shoulder and dual blasters rest on his hips. He leans against a wall near where the auction is set to go

down, most people give the armoured and heavily armed man a wide berth.

Fenwick Mare adjusts his arms folded across his chest, following more or less behind the rest of the Jawa crew; or, realy, just Sar but there is also Gren

there so it counts. He uses an index finger to scratch idle at the side of his head. "He looks like he did. He definitely looks like he did." However, his

attention his shifting away from the older pair, and the droids, to instead glance at their surroundings. This isn't the best of places.

R5-DT is making its way around the spaceport pausing to look at various ships and whatnot as he travels around looking at those really messed up ships or

the ones with laser burns, "Wonder which one of these organics need a droid."

"I spent my -own- money on the droids. And they aren't just some droids. Sar, Fen. This is..." Delede's arms sweep out in a grand gesture of introduction

toward the pair of droids that walk..well, motivate along with him..."BFF the bartender...and Good Sar...he's a veteran cop, just like you Sar. Just, you

know...he was actually not shit at his job. Or so the Duros that sold him told me. GS is the strong silent type." A smile to show that he is just

teasing...mostly, and he tosses his now empty onto the duracrete with a shattering sound, and his smile grows. "I spent -our- credits on this swaggy new

armor." He's does a spin to show it off. He's already had time to paint a phoenix on it. "I'm going to need more credits if they have what I'm hoping to

bid..." Further words are lost, and the pilot jumps as a large explosion startles him.

There is a sudden burst heavy blaster fire erupts from a nearby alley, followed by an old battered speeder slamming into the building that was supposed to

hold the auction. A brief glimpse offered would show that is carried the colors of a local gang. From all around the street, blasters are going off. More

speeders follow the first, and these don't crash. They merely slide and careen to stops blocking most of the alleys, and bridgeways. Dozens of non-humans

and humans of very rough description are leaping out, and firing mostly cheap blasters, and throwing improvised explosives toward a number of the locals

buildings...most tagged in yet another gangs colors. It is from these buildings that fire is returning. Bystanders are hit, as neither side seems

particularly careful about their aim. Things escalated quickly. From somewhere nearby, a number of small children have begun to scream and weep.

As the Blasterfire begins, Kel Frown, after taking cover behind a dumpster. unshipping his staff, the Wroonian looks around trying to get a bearing in the

confusion. the screaming of children taking precedence over possible looting opportunities offered in the now disrupted auction, he heads towards the

screams.

As the blaster fire begins and the speeders start crashing and sliding to a halt Russ's blasters jump to his hands already rising to begin laying down the

law on the gang members. He is not the sort of Mandalorian that will fall to random gang violence. Pushing off the wall he was leaning against he walks

fowards blasters up already getting ready to fire.

"What good is a bartender droid if you don't have any money to buy booze?" Sar asks of Gren. "No offense," he adds to the droid. He's then about to go on a

tirade the naming of the law enforcement droid when all of a sudden, shit pops off. The aged ex-cop's hand moves to his blaster and he scans the area. Down

a nearby alleyway Sar spots a collection of street urchins, cowering away from the gunfire that's surrounding them and, without so much as a thought, Sar

begins sprinting towards the firefight, "Gren, Fenwick; get them away from those kids!" And he raises the pistol. Pew. Pew. Pew.

Lofty the Talz fumbles for his own rifle as shooting breaks out. He ducks against a building and looks with all four eyes for the sound of young sentients

screaming. "Children are in the alley!" he coos, pointing with a massive white paw at the alley full of shrieking street urchins ahead. The gangers don't

care, but maybe the humanoids who were traveling to the auction do.

Ascalon continues to remain silent, scanners sweeping, tagging gangers and speeders as quickly as he can with his sensory suite. Fortunately, one of the

things had insisted on building in was fairly advanced optical scanners. The droid then slowly turns it shead towards Sar and Gren and the Talz, since they

seem to be the ones most fixed on acting. Ascalon is mostly trying to make sure none of his suppliers or potential customers are in the mob first...it is

Nar Shadddaa after all, and business must remain paramount. The droid removes the blaster pistol from his holster, a single twirl of the gun executed in

utter silence. "Three light assault vehicles. Three, perhaps four dozen irregular infantry." The droids voice doesn't seem to come out of any one place, but

rather a series of grooves on the side of its 'chin', producing a stereolike effect of his dark baritone.

R5-DT swivels his dome towards the blaster fire traces it along towards the intended targets and then swivels back towards the shooters, "Stupid organics

you shoot anywhere near me I'll have to kill you all." He keeps an eye on the different gangsters making sure that the blaster fire isn't heading his way as

he goes to hide behind some crates... Well not hide more strategic retreat for better cover and concealment.

Fires have begun to sprung up, and gang members crumple, here and there. They begin to fire at those uninvolved that have made themselves involved, and at

basically everything that moves, in general. Explosions tear holes in the duracrete, and one of the speeders goes up with a WHOOMP in the distance. The

children that have been pointed out are keeping their heads, and trying to make themselves as small as possible, but the amount of fire around them is very

heavy. Three of the speeders that are still intact have old heavy blaster mounts atop them, and one has spun toward the most obvious threat, that of the

fellow in Mando armor. The other two remain focused on the opposing force's apparent main trap house, as it is being quickly demolished by fire.

"You've got to kidding me...." Gren shouts over the noise, as he fights every urge to dig himself into a hole on the ground. This is not his favorite way to

fight, for sure. The heavy blaster is drawn, and the man lifts it, firing a snap shot at the nearest armed gang member, oblivious of the actual gang

identity. His target drops with a hole through the chest, and he advances into the fire, manages to remain unhurt. "We really bloody need to take one of

those fucking speeders." His general direction is the alley full of kids, but he isn't charging in there, unaided. Hell no. "Good Sar...start killing the

perps!" It hoots a negative, and does nothing, though it deftly avoids incoming fire. Great. His security droid is a pacifist.

The Kids Kelnas couldn't pinpoint. the Turret mounted blaster though? those were easy enough to see. Staff in hand, Kelnas alters his course to get closer

to the nearest speeder hopefully without getting shot, moving in a sort of hunched over jog.

Sar Yavok continues his full-on sprint towards the mouth of the alley where the children are, but stops to slide behind a permacrete divider as a hail of

blaster fire comes his way. Once it's past, however, the Captain pops right back out and begins moving again, sending a searing hot blaster bolt into the

chest of one of the enemy combatants.

Lofty the Talz is hunched over in a big fuzzy white ball against a building's awning, trying to take cover. As Kelnas bravely rushes a speeder, the big

alien raises his hunting rifle and fires it in an attempt to cover. His red blaster bolt hits a ganger, but the amount of blaster bolts returning increases

twofold, causing the four-eyed arctic alien to cower behind his duracrete cover.

. There is a reason Ascalon prefers to let drones handle actual combat. The smoke and fire of the skirmish seem to be disrupting his attempts to identify

leadership elements, and the shot from his blaster pistol goes wide and into the Nar Shadaa skyline. The droid makes no obvious audible sound, though its

body language seems almost profane as the droid seeks the nearest available cover. Ascalon is a tactical intelligence, not a battle droid. Ah for the good

old days and a few dozen B1's!

Russ's eyes sweep to the side as he spots that heavy turret swinging for him. His gunhand is faster. He fires twice and the turret gunner drops his brain

melting out the back of his head. His right hand gun sweeps up as one of the gang members nearest to him spots the mando closing in. He fires twice again as

watches as the mans chest caves in around the blazing hot laser bolts. He ducks his head to the side as a blaster shot carresses the edge of his helmet.

Finally his jetpack flares as he hops to the side to dodge another bolt.

R5-DT is remaning behind the crates for now poking his dome out to watch the battle proceed every now and then but for now its to remain hidden and not get

blasted, "So not my fight stypid organics don't even fight well."

Russ continues to draw the most attention, as he's jetpacking, and killing dudes with flurries of blaster pistol fire. A huge volume of fire is directed at

him, as he does his thing, from both sides of the firefight at this point. There is a high-pitched whine, and a trio of hot-rodded swoops appear from above,

firing underslung blaster cannons into the chaos, targeting the opposing gangs for the moment, but apt to cause problems for anyone, if this keeps up. Sar

has found himself under heavy fire as well, as he's trying to approach the alley that just happens to be adjacent to the trap house under attack. The small

children scream to him for help. All in all, it is pandemonium. From within the auction house, there is signs of life, as rubble is heaved to and fro by an

unseen force.

"Idiot!" Gren calls after Sar, as he sees him charge blindly into the heaviest part of the action, and with a shake of his head, and a serious case of the

idiocy...the older man charges after him, and manages to make it about five feet before he trips, and sprawls to the ground. Another burst of fire goes the

falling man's way, and he manages to snapshot his current attacker, a wee Rodian, in the stupid ugly snout. "Serves you right. Learn to cook, greenskin." He

really hates Rodian food. He's still stuck prone. He's fallen and he can't get up.

The plan was good. It was a Mother beautiful plan. Close enough to the Speeder now, Kelnas jumps at it, tripping over himself in the process, he hit the

ground with a muttered "Mother..." The blast from the turret catching him in the side though takes the cake as he tries to roll out of the way. "Fucker..."

"Kids, get down!" Sar shouts, sprinting towards the kids and sliding under a hail of blaster bolts. He scurries along the ground for a moment and finally

ends up right next to the children, protecting them with his body as he sends another bolt of blaster fire towards one of the gangsters.

Lofty the Talz sees Kelnas getting shot at and peeks out of his cover. He raises his rifle, firing at the turret, but misses by a mile! A bystander is

winged by his shot. "Are the little ones safe?" he asks over the blaster fire in his crooning voice.

Ascalon succesfully manages to ID what passes for the command element of one of the gangs at least. Unfortunately the organics are not slaved to his

tactical net so he has to talk. Such an inefficient means of communication. Ascalon raises a single finger, pointing as his voice ethereally echoes. "Rear

of that speeder is their leader. Target to be eliminated." The droid then takes a shot, attempting to take out the leader or at least one of the mooks but

misses him by a hairs breadth.

Russ curses as the fire intensifies, obviously the fire would all start pouring in on the armoured Mandalorian who is knocking them down with apparent ease.

His jetpack flaring as he uses the added momentum to jump over and around incoming fire. After another hop to the side to dodge a flurry of bolts Russ's

pistols snap up again and flare four times. And four bodies drop to the ground, holes melted through chests and heads.

R5-DT decides that the attention is on the other combatants and casually wheels himself over towards one of the other groups, opening up a side compartment

a blaster comes out where he aims and fires... Dang it his aiming module seems to be off kilter a bit time to get that fixed after this battle, "Die stupid

organics die!"

So. The battle is turning on its heels for the interlopers. Whereas they had been doing so well, a number of them are getting shot, while a flashy Mando

dodges everything thrown his way, and holds down a large number of the attacks. The ganger ranks -are- thinning, but there is still the leader giving orders

atop a speeder, and three speeder bikes making strafing runs on the loosing side....well they were. Now atleast two of them are focusing on the Mandolorian

killing all their friends. This is a messy, messy situation. Th children remain shocking calm, but...the volume of fire has only increased, as Sar had made

himself a large target. They really need to keep killing gangers, and hopefully force a retreat.

For his part, Gren is on the verge of getting to his feet, as a red bolt burns into his right arm, and knocks him back into the ground. He is cursing up a

blue streak, but he's still a pretty damned perceptive old pilot, and he hears the unknown, and odd droid calling out about there being a honcho giving

orders. From his back, his left hand comes up, and he takes a deep breath. A quick look down the sights, and he pulls the trigger and sends a single red

bolt from his Bryar into through the apparent gang leader's left eye. "Didn't see that one coming, did you, ya fuck?" A smirk, and then..."Owwwww..."

Another shot, this time to the chest and Kelnas Groans. His armor had taen some of the blast, but he was still going to have a scar. Hearing kids screaming,

the Middle aged Wroonian grabs onto the speeder and with suprpising agaility for the circustances, drags himself up onto it. Rolling over the top, he kicks

the gunner in the throat hard with a steel toed Work boot. This first one connecting with a satisfying crunch of vital bits. the second mossing as the

gunner falls out of the seat.

"Delede! Get behind something, you idiot!" Sar shouts as he continues to put himself between the children and the gangsters. Dust and blaster fire are

hailing all around him as he tries to protect them, but a speeder bike comes screaming down the alley towards them and he pops up, squeezing the trigger of

his Defender and popping the rider's head, sending the speeder bike careening into a wall. By page to Sar Yavok (Sar) - Gren Delede (GD) says, "Im gonna be a dick"

Lofty the Talz howls in pain as he is struck by a stray blaster bolt. The fur on his right arm sizzles and blackens. He leans out from cover and fires

another single shot, striking a swoop and disabling its pilot with glee.

Ascalon takes a hit to the upper left section of his torso, grey metal slaging off to reveal blue and black weaves of circuitry and what appear to be almost

akin to bundles of nerve and muscular tissue...or so they would appear in an organic. There is a slight warping of the singular optic in the droids face,

processing more than actually feeling pain it seems, though the possible reduction in function is documented. The droid aims the pistol one more time,

apparently going for broke as Ascalon fires one more shot, catching one of the mooks in the shoulder. Reassess, refocus, continue engagement.

Russ watches as one of the speeders goes down in flames it's driver caught by another blaster bolt. He locks eyes with the driver of the speeder coming down

on him. He raises his pistols and fires a quick flurry off watching as they all catch the driver in the head or high-torso. Finally he activates his jetpack

again to leap over the speeder as even dead the driver tried to run him down. "At least he tried."

Well. The tide turned once again, and it just ended up being too much. The attacking gang has lost its leader, what passed for air support, and the flimsy

technicals that it called light armor. The 'infantry' begin to break, and flee into black alleys where they are likely going to die to rival gangers, and

some throw down their weapons, and start to beg for mercy. Even most of the surviving defenders are heading for the hills, as their 'stronghold' has been

gutted. The small children begin to weep, and the oldest thanks Sar, before holding out a hand, and wiping at her eyes with the other. "Spare a few credits,

Mister? Its been a rough day." Street urchins are the best. The smallest leans in close and gives him a big thankful hug, though his little Rodian eyes

don't look -that- thankful. They all begin to scamper off into the ruins, because thats life on Nar Shaddaa. Already the locals are digging through rubble,

and searching bodies. Looking for what they can loot.

"Yeah, no problem, kid," Sar says, pulling out a handful of credits and tossing them to the oldest member of the urchins. He pats the little Rodian on the

head and moves past the kids on his way to find Gren, "Delede, you alright? Saw you catch one out there."

"Ow. Fucking Ow." Gren Delede bitches with emphasis on the ground, before pulling himself to his feet. He doesn't dare look at his blaster wound, but holds

his right arm limply in front of him, while keeping his blaster drawn in his left. He starts to search the 'battlefield' visually, and calls

out..."Sar...you better be fuckin' alive...and Good Sar, you better be scrap, you blasted coward of a damned hunk of metal!" The bar droid is forgotten, in

his anger and pain and concern. He also starts to look for those who proved brief allies. "Anyone else who isn't a poor, or a piece of shit ganger hurt?!"

Lofty the Talz turns to the R5 droid as it wheels around. He stands, taking a small patch from his bandolier and slapping it on his wound with another howl

of pain. "Hurt." The large Wampa-like alien waddles to the alley where the children are and asks of Kelnas, "You are OK?" He bends and snatches a rifle off

a near-dead ganger with his paw.

Ascalon watches the dispesring gangsters, then looks at the children. It is difficult to find disdain in that formless face, but the lack of credits should

be a good sign. "Improve, or be discarded." The droid says, a blink of optic as a hand goes to check the injury. The tactical intelligence begins sto run

diagnostics to determine what will need to be replaced and what can possibly be self-restored. He inclines his head to the party and walks off. "You need

electronics, parts, or droids, I am not hard to find." The most terse form of advertisement that can be mustered as he wanders off into the seedy(er) belly

of Nar Shaddaa. "And there was not even an auction. Better intelligence channels required."

Gren waves his uninjured pistol-holding hand at Sar. "I'm fine. Got winged. Gonna need a clinic. But we got other's hurt, too..." And heads toward Lofty and

Kelnas, trying to do so in a way that shows he is friendly. "You guys need a lift to the clinic? I can get my dumbass droid to carry the blue man, if he

needs it!" The Coruscanti's clipped tones aren't even slurred. The adrenaline took care of that. As for the other droids? They receive a nod...and Ascalaon

receives a response, as heads off..."I've got a droid needs fixed! I'll look for yo...thank you for the help!"

Lofty the Talz nods at Kelnas and wails in pain as his arm begins to throb again. He says to Gren Delede, "You shoot good. We friend." He gestures with his

paw.

R5-DT pops a mechanical grabber arm dohicky out the side of his chassis as he scoots off and makes a waving motion as he rounds a corner and whistles on out

of sight.

"Yeah. We're friends. I'm Gren Delede...this s Sar Yavok. We run Rebel Yell. I've got a soft spot for your people, friend. We go way back. Look us up. We do

good business. Get into adventures. That sort of thing." Gren is way nicer and more forthcoming with Lofty than is usual, which his friend is likely to

note. "Nice work taking down that speeder." He looks at Sar, and adds..."You too...and saving those punks."