Log:HUNT: Dazyn Mozh

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HUNT: Dazyn Mozh

OOC Date: September 15, 2020
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Tarion Tavers, Sajin, and Mujiji

"So look, it's remarkably simple, ok ka, even a bunch of low-rent morons like you can pull it off," Tarion is explaining, the grey-armored man strutting around the dark, damp alleyway he's summoned his hired help to. This section of Gearhead is nestled back from the main strip, where all the bustling commerce occurs, on the transition area between trade and warehouse. It's a common haunt for thugs, gangsters, and the destitute just trying to scrape a living from someone else's wallet.

Here in the alley, two warehouses butt up against each other, close but not touching, and forming this crack of humanity between them. There's trash and garbage everywhere, but most importantly, there's a net concealed among it, stretching from one side of the alley to the other, cables running up to concealed pulleys fastened on the roofs of the warehouses.

"There's a NET!" the bounty hunter crows, leaning down to pluck up one of the little pieces of netting and show it to his hired guns. "A hidden net! And when this Dazyn Mozh comes Mozh-ying along through, I push this button-" and here he waggles a cobbled-together device at the others, that looks like a bunch of junk with an antenna strapped together with tape, "and the jaws of the trap spring shut! Easy job." No one has ever been wrong about that before.


<<"I lived here for about a week once...">> Came the voice of Sajin through his helmet's vocorder, distorting the hapans voice just slightly but not enough to be unrecognizable. <<"It wasn't that bad...">> One could imagine the King of Drik sleeping in the bags of trash like a sound little baby. He inspects the net Tarion has put together. After a moment, he nods in approval. <<"Looks like it'll do the trick.">> A gloved thumbs up is given.


"Yeah, sounds simple enough." Mujiji agrees, perhaps foolishly. She's sat atop a dumpster, one claw wedged between her buck teeth, fishing something foul out from the depths. "So if we got a net, we ain't killin' 'im then?" The note of disappointment creeps at the edges of her tone. It's easier when you can kill them. "One question though... What makes ya think he's just gonna wander on into yer trap? How we get him here?"


"Now that, I've already taken care of," Tarion assures Mujiji, the bounty hunter manuevering around behind a pile of crates and waving towards the shopping district. "Mozh fancies himself some kind of freedom fighter, likes to liberate other people's property," he explains, leaning his back against the pallets and propping his rifle between his knees. "So I put out word on the holonet that I was an escaped slave named Tilga Higgi, a beautiful, if somewhat grotesque, red Twi'lek dancer. Mozh thinks he's meeting Tilga in this alley to whisk her off to permanent freedom." A lop-sided grin sprawls across his face. "Which is, of course, ridiculous, but you know how these sort of people are."

A mechanical hand, the synthflesh stripped bare, points across the street to another stack of boxes, trash, and pallets. "You two take up position over there. He should be here any minute."


<<"That doesn't sound like a freedom fighter...">> Sajin says dumbly. His head tilts to the side. "You can be beautiful and Grotesque at the same time? huh..." He puts his hands on the hips, looking over towards the trash. <<"Alright...">> THe big guy meanders over towards the boxes. <<"I wonder if my stash is still here...">> Stash of what Sajin? He starts to attempt to hide his large armored form behind what ever garbage he can. Perhaps the shadowplates will help.


Luckily, Mujiji is hardly what anyone could consider "morally gifted", so the Kusihban gives a wide shrug and scrambles in the indicated direction.

It's a good hiding spot - and she is so small! No one will see or hear her.

In theory.

CLATTER CLATTER CLATTER BANG BANG RATTLE SMASH "FRAG MY ASS" CRASH CRASH BANG BANG

...The silence after this momentous outburst is perhaps more disconcerting, because Moo is somewhere under the pile of boxes, crates, and rubbish that she's knocked over.


"Beautiful because of her face and body, grotesque because she's a Twi'lek. The head-noodles. They're appalling," Tarion explains to Sajin, as one would to a small child who doesn't know any better. His grey armor, so plain and drab, almost melts away into the side of the warehouse wall as he flattens himself against it; this is his natural habitat, after all, his physical form really just a piece of Nar Shaddaa's seedy underbelly split off and made flesh.

Then Mujiji knocks down his carefully constructed cover, just as a solitary figure appears in the dim light at the end of the alleyway. "For KRIF'S- ~SaKe~!" the bounty hunter shouts, his voice shifting into a warbling modulation as he attempts to slide it up into a feminine register on sighting the person peering down towards them out of the corner of his eye.

"Tilga? Tilga, is that- is that you?" The man takes a few tentative steps into the alleyway, his hackles raised, his bright blue eyes piercing in the darkness, his square, sharp jaw covered in rugged stubble, wavy locks of smooth, silky brown rumbled carelessly around his head. His fitted clothes reveal quite a trim figure, the yellow spacer's jacket holding in his broad chest, a blaster pistol worn on his hip. Dazyn Mozh looks like a spacer stepped off the cover of a romance novel.


"Moooj, you're ruining my hiding spot!" Sajin whisper shouts as she climbs up and over him and around trying to get in a good position. Though things quiet again as Dazyn rounds the corner and catuiously approaches the hapan and his compatiots. Sajin, from his hidden corner of shadow and darkness clears his throat. "Yes, my love... it's me. Come closer so I can see your SEXY face."


Can Mujiji breathe? Is she alive? Those questions go unanswered for too long of a moment - until a foot appears in her slit of vision, the one allowed between two heavy crates. The first sign of life from the Kushiban is the hum of a vibrodagger - the one which she wields like a size-appropriate sword - and screeches out a warcry as she bursts free, ready to absolutely flay some ankles... But the voices, the shadows - she's lucky not to have hit Sajin instead.


The beautiful man, maybe even more beautiful than Sajin, known as Dazyn Mozh creeps a few steps further into the alleyway, where a man with an effeminate voice, or maybe two of them, are apparently attempting to lure him in for an intimate rendezvous. The first sprout of doubt works its way up through the soil, and when Mujiji's paw lashes out full of vibrodagger and fury, he lurches a step backward with a start, turning to run.

"GOT YOU," Tarion exults victoriously, smashing the button on his remote.

For once, his scheme actually works as intended. The pulleys retract their ropes with dizzying speed, snatching the net upwards with their prey caught inside. "Now! Now, subdue him!" the bounty hunter yells, struggling to be heard over the clatter of further crates and pallets being upended and tossed about by the zip of the net. "Before he gets loose!"


Sajin leaps from the the shadows, now exposing his full form but not his contested beauty! The helmet was in the way. <<"On him!">> He could activate the shock gloves but he didn't want to accidently shock him... or go overboard and kill the target. They needed him alive. He swings, the mark a bit more wiley than the Hapan's fist, Even in the net. Tarion wasn't helping. <<"Hold him still!">> He then puches again, hitting the man in the gun with a gauntleted fist.


From beneath her, Mujiji feels something stir, and remembers (just a hair too late) THE NET! She leaps into the air, claws scrabbling against trash to haul herself free in just the knick of time. "Watch it, Tavers!" She huffs, holding her vibrodagger aloft again. "Hoi!" She yells at the dangling man, running in a slow circle to keep eye-contact with him as he rotates. "Ya best just calm down and come easy, or you'll find that you're missing a few parts that our -" She has to trot a little faster to stay face to face, getting dizzier as she goes. "-our Tilga surely would have enj-enjoyed!"


"Whoever you are, you'll regret this!" Dazyn yells as he swings back and forth like the pendulum of an enormous clock, swaddled up by the rope net suspending him above the alleyway. "I bow to no man! Or- or whatever you are, you uncouth fuzzball!" Sajin's fist punches him somewhere in the body while he swings, setting the net off on a crazy, crooked elliptical orbit. Trapped hands fumble in his pockets for some kind of device, but he can't seem to produce any effect with whatever it is.

"Wow, kriffing hell. It really was an easy mission," Tarion laughs, slapping the side of his temple with his natural hand. "I can't believe it, this is like, the first time- I mean, the hundredth time that's happened," he corrects himself, giddy eyes twinkling in the grimy light from the distant street. "Come on and shut him up already. And someone make a note that next time the net should have stun-stuff in the ropes, this is inconveniencing me."


Sajin cranes his neck before his head moves to follow the bundle of Dazyn around and around. He puts up his Dukes as Tarion says to hurry up. <<"I'm trying my best here...">> His stance looks more like he's at the gym hitting the bag... which essentially is how the martial artist treats this situation. His hits are hard and fast, thumping against the space with an almost wet sound... maybe a pop or a crack. Either way, it didn't sound very nice and did sound painful.


"Honestly, I don't care, I just gotta get him to the client alive," Tarion shrugs, moving out from behind the crates now that literally all of the heavy lifting has been done by someone else, and Mozh is looking sufficiently grogging from Sajin's tender ministrations.

Until that device Dazyn has been fiddling with starts to beep. Beep. Beep.

"What is that? What did he do?" the bounty hunter demands, his smile and easy demeanor evaporating like dew on a summer morning. "What did you let him do?"

A distant whine rapidly builds to a dull roar, and suddenly the alley is filled with the glare of headlights and a deafening whoosh as an airspeeder summoned by remote careens through the air at full speed, colliding with Tarion's elevated trap. The vehicle rockets along down the alley, the net sucked in its wake with Dazyn inside, bowling Tarion over like a wrecking ball, before the front edge of the speeder clips a wall and spins into the warehouse, punching through the thin durasteel siding and rubberbanding Dazyn onto the tarmac in a heap of tangled rope, near the opposite end of the alleyway.


Sajin was warming up for another round of punches, talking himself up, <<"Alright... square your shoulders... just pop-pop-pop'em in the mouth and he'll go night night...">> He really was underestimating the trapped Dazyn who was slightly dazed but not dazed enough to not fiddle with the calling device for his speeder. Sajin turns at the growing roar, seeing the thing just in time to drop to the ground. He is quick to his feet, turning to the wreckage. <<"Ah Kriff...">> he'd check on Tarion later. Instead he rushes towards Dayzenm, activating his shock gloves, the Hapan was done playing around. He jumps on top of the wanted space and pummels him, electricity zapping through the man's body.

No one was prettier than Sajin.

Nobody.


It wouldn't be the first time that Mujiji was run over by a speeder in Tarion's prescience, and it likely wouldn't be the last - but thankfully, her low profile saves the day. "Is he out?" THe Kushiban asks with a nod to Tavers, since it's obvious that their quarry certainly is. Is she trying to slide off with the bounty and turn it in over their employer's head?

Absolutely.


"Stop!" Dazyn groggily cautions Sajin as the Hapan approaches. "I'm a /good person,/ I need to-" Whatever it is he needs, the world will have to wait to find out, as the shockgloves cut him off with a jolt, sizzle, and shriek. When he passes out from the shock, Tarion surfaces, like it's a switch and you get one or the other.

"I'm fine. I'm GREAT," he assures his concerned helpers, dusting himself off, a slick of oil polluting his hair. "Good work, you two. I mean, I did all the hard work, with the net, and uh, defeating the airspeeder, but, you know, passable work." The bounty hunter gives them both a broad, arrogant smile as he swaggers over, surveying the damage, prodding the fallen figure in the net with his boot while the speeder bursts into flames. "I'll take it from here. We probably uh, want to be out of the area shortly. By which I mean, we were never here to begin with, understand? Of course you do!"

With a grunt, he heaves the net with Dazyn inside over his shoulder. "Into the metaphysical sunset!"