Log:Knights of Ren: Floozo Jammich and the Good Time Gang
TARIS. It's like Coruscant, but art deco and clean!
The Night Buzzard thrums and rumbles through the air, the noxious cloud of smoke pouring out of its engines as it sails along over the upper levels of the city.
The briefing for this particular fracas went as such; Floozo Jammich, Coruscanti philosopher and author has been publishing dire and condemning journals about the First Order. As political dissent under First Order rule is punishable by death or 'disappearing', the Knights in their infinite compassion have set out to right all of Mr. Jammich's wrongs.
Floozo Jammich, having absconded from Coruscant in the wee hours of the evening one evening last month has been holding fund-raisers on Taris to continue publishing his works. Tonight's fundraiser is to take place during the maiden voyage one of the city's handsome and upscale grav-trains. Expect resistance.
<<We're approaching the drop,>> Syrus comms from the pilot's cabin, slowing the throttle and angling the ship down. Some few hundred meters below, spearing along its course is the Chimaeric Jubilee, fit to burst with upper-class politically-inclined folks just ready to shell out the big bucks.
The Night Buzzard whips into place, matching speed with the tram and lowering its cargo ramp.
"A philosopher wrote a book criticizing the First Order," Errod muses, stroking his mustache as the Buzzard hurtles along towards the intercept point. "Not that it's all that surprising. What do philosophers ever do, but criticize? And governing bodies are easy targets; every soul that has ever existed believes deep in its biological source code that only 'I' have the right to govern this sack of meat I'm riding through the cosmos, like a bolt of greased lightning." His redrimmed eyes turn towards the hatch as Syrus comms back into the hold. "I'll take this as a sign of what treatise I ought not leave behind."
Pulling his helmet on, he steps up to the hatch, slapping the panel to be sure it's going to stay open, and the rushing wind that pulls at his black and charcoal garments rattles the panoply of weapons strapped to his body. "Zand stepping over, out into that great noth-"
The ship rocks, and out he tumbles, falling under no control and landing heavily on the tram below. After a brief slip'n'slide across the roof, one hand manages to latch onto something vertical, and he pulls himself upright, tugging a vibrodagger from his belt. This is a close-quarters fight, and you can never have too many knives.
Standing on the edge of the cargo ramp as it descends from the Night Buzzard, Vosaurd's eyes widen as he sizes up the jump that has to be made. Wind whips about his robes in a violent manner, his finger tips almost turning white as he grips onto the railing from within the ship. "Sith's blood," He mutters. This was //insanity//. As others start to make the jump though, demonstrating how it's done, Vos grits his teeth. He won't be outdone! With a big breath he jumps. Silvery blue eyes widen as his adrenaline spikes, the rush suddenly pumping energy through every cell of his body. His arms circle instinctively in the sky as he falls, though the action does nothing really to slow him down. "Far--!" The top of the tram comes up quicker than expected, and his 'landing' is appropriately rough. Vosaurd's body sort of crumples against the top of the tram in a light roll and bounce, momentum so great that it carries him over the edge! Instinctively the Knight of Ren reaches out, managing to grasp the edge of the tram and avoid plummeting to his doom. So there he hangs, looking down at the huge drop, before looking back up at the edge that he managed to get a grip on. "I liked it better when we were drinking on Nar Shaddaa and plotting to set fire to couches."
"Why in the hell would we not just have bought passage upon this train?!" Like, can't they afford train tickets? As the wind whips by as they all wait to drop out of the hatch she'll watch Errod go, lips pursing as she wore her 'slimming' robes today, which means she's got fancy leather pants, and a set of robes that tuck down in around her shoulders to drop down and tuck in around her waist in behind her like a beautiful train, held in place by a leather carved bodice. A deep breath, her eyes closing as she nods her head, holding onto the edge of the hatch and letting Vosuard through before she just FLINGS herself out after him, landing like a bug on a window, a perfect splat that robs her lungs of airs momentarily.
An inward inhale once she's able to is sucked in greedily, helped along as she rolls not unlike Vosuard, tumbling until she's able to catch herself purely by luck, a rack piece catching her by the toes of her right foot, momentum dashed and the woman able to roughly slap her hands down and hold on for dear life. "I too miss the couch burnings!" Yelled out, clinging tightly, "Someone please help me." Called out, cheek tight in against the plating of the train top. Please don't die, please don't die. She's meant to die in her own fire. Not like this.
Domino is unusually quiet and there's a tension in her shoulders suggesting she just MIGHT be terrified but while she certainly won't be the FIRST to jump she makes damned sure NOT to be the last one to jump. She lands with a soft, muffled grunt, tucking as if she might roll but stopping herself. She sees Vos go over and lunges forward to grab his arm, precariously ass up as she yanks the young man up, falling gracelessly on her ass as she barely manages the feat. "You an me both, kid. You've no damned idea. C'mon." She eeps, "Damnnit, yoinked the wrong one!" she pushes herself to her feet.
Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, He Who Hunts was not having the best week. It started pretty great, but then yesterday there was a setback. Now, you see, Sebek did not deal well with setbacks. They were an affront to his sensibilities, and so he was silently simmering in his Knight armour, with its flared helmet with the twisted snarl of a fanged animal carved from the front and his topknot sticking out its hole. He didn't even have insults ready for He Who Learns.
His sword was now stained, tainted, and only good for stories. Though it now thrummed with power, battle would fracture it. It remained at home. With him today was a more unwieldy thing, a Bilari whip with which he had not practiced, but would serve as a suitable stand-in.
When the drop came, Sebek took a running, flying leap. He was not much of an acrobat, better for the ground. Flying was for spaceships and birds. When he landed, it was harsh, on his knees, on angled and slippery deck. Maintaining his footing was not exactly a routine task, and as he slid off the side of the train, he withdrew the sword-whip, powered it on with a THRUM, and jammed it into the roof. Handgrip. Planting his feet, he pulled himself up on to something more solid. Not quite a setback. Because a proper setback would have resulted in another tantrum.
And technically She Who Ignites was supposed to die only when she proved useless to Sebek of the Desert. She hadn't yet. Therefore, obligation stood. Holding on to his brand new handgrip, he reached down and forcibly grabbed the arm of the pyromaniac. "You die when you are worthless, She Who Ignites!" the Falleen boomed, as he one-handed HOISTed the pyromaniac on to the flat surface the train. There. Safe. "Your time is not yet!"
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The sounds of interlopers is not lost on the revelers below, who rush to the windows, spying the Night Buzzard in all of its edgy glory hovering just beyond before it pulls away.
"Guards! Do something! It's the First Order!" bellows Xuni Nendi'ne, a neimoidian politician. "They can't do that! Shoot them or something!" he pleads. Already, though, the armed guards aboard the Jubilee are scrambling. They don't get paid enough for this. By and large, they're rent-a-cops, just trying to make enough money to put their estranged daughters through college. But they are soon to be descending upon the Knights. Or ascending to them.
A quartet of guards manage to climb atop the train, the wind buffeting at their clean-pressed, mostly-for-show uniforms. "There they are! Blast 'em!"
The wind is WHIPPING as the traintram zooms at breakneck speed, and only by clinging tightly to his sticking-point is Errod able to remain atop it rather than being pulled off into the great beyond. Squinting ahead from behind the slits in his mask, he struggles to spot where they might be heading next, but when hostile heads appear from below (for what other sort of passenger could there be on this train of MALCONTENTS), it all becomes clear.
Throwing himself low against the body of the tram, he moves with what could almost be described as ease towards the four guards, hands latching onto grips like he's scaling a rock face free solo. At the 'top' of the climb is a hapless figure, and his dagger plunges forward in two quick, devastating thrusts, the inertia sending the fresh corpse flying over his head and back towards his comrades. "Krif," Errod mutters, glancing over his shoulder to see if the body hits anybody.
Hauled up by the impressively strong Domino, Vosaurd gives a brief nod in thanks. He would normally verbalise such things, but the whole experience has left him a little shaken for the immediate moment. Witnessing the others landing in a similar fashion (Domino excepted) makes him feel at least a little better about it all. Remaining crouched on the roof, wind passing by so quickly that it makes it difficult to keep his eyes open (much less his hood on), Vos takes the brief moment to try and collect himself and calm back down. It's then when the guards appear, daring to climb atop the roof of a tram moving at full speed through this metropolis of Taris. "Those guys are even crazier than we are," He jokes, lifting a hand up to try and focus on one of the foes that is climbing. With a hefty look of concentration he focusses, but a sudden turn that the tram makes causes him to lose balance. "Urk!" Instead he manages to telekinetically grasp some poor innocent bird that happens to be flying in the opposite direction. The bird is wrenched from the sky and discarded. "Damnit."
Holy hells. Erisi, just as quickly as she found herself tumbling to her death on an insanely fas train, suddenly finds herself lifted up by her arm, the organic one, and bodily drawn up onto her feet, "Oh." The wind whipped words from Sebek are a balm - his setback yesterday taken as a personal setback for herself, the woman assuming the green lizard would HATE HER FOREVER, but hey. She's still useful. That's reassuring. The force and speed of the train as it moves through the AIR means that she immediately drops down to her knees to crawl, "Okay - well. Okay. Thank YOU." Called out to Sebek as she begins to crawl forwards, only to see the BAD GUYS come up. "What in the holy sharts --" A response to Vosuard, "Crazier or just as stupid?! They were /inside/ and could have --" Ohp, a bird goes flying by, Erisi lifting her chin up as the wind claims her hair and plasters her skin in back against her bones, "--Picked us off as we went in!" Where he misses, she'll lift up a single finger from the top of the train to make her wishes known that she wishes to set Oeka on fire. Just her feet, to really get her hopping and maybe falling off and over the train to her death, "//IT'S SO WINDY//." Said as she tucks her chin in towards her chest, head tilting to the left so she can continue crawling forwards, robe train rippling behind her dramatically as her ponytail and bangs slick straight back.
Domino is forced back to her knees due to the insane wind, one knee braced and one knee up as she has one foot down ready to try to stand upright if it proves necessary. Fortunately she's in the armor so no one's having to dodge weaves or whatever ridiculous outfits she might have worn in place of the armor but her tendency to travel laiden with gear is a distinct disadvantage as serial cable 'bandaliers' slap wildly against her armor and her packet pockets and haversack catch wind WAY too easy. She manages to raise her pistol and squeeze off two rounds before she's forced to raise her other hand to brace his pistol against the force of the wind. "MAybe we should ignore these assholes and just get inside, deal with them inside?!" The roar of the wind causing her to almost shout into the coms.
Sebek was holding his feet by doing his thing, advancing slowly now that he'd wrenched the sword-whip from the hull of the high-speed vehicle. Normally it would have been for intimidation factor, especially before his breaking and reforging as a Knight of Ren. With the completion of the reforging drawing ever closer, the battle confidence was returning. But, this time, actually remaining standing and still closing the gap required cold patience.
The flying corpse battered Sebek, not as bad as it could have, considering he saw it coming. He ducked, moved to one side, and smacked it with his shoulder as it flew past into the ether. Bye bye corpse, He Who Cares did not for you.
Who was next? Blaster fire, normal fire, knives, a bird exploding... ah. That person looked untouched. Not for long. The sword-whip, in sharp murder glowy bzzz form, went straight through the poor individual's face. Then, somehow remaining upright, he kicked the individual off his blade and into the city below.
Dropping like flies, the guards really, /really/ didn't get paid enough for this. Thankfully at least Renn had the foresight to secure a hefty life insurance policy, so his estranged daughter will still be able to pursue her liberal arts degree.
Oeka being the only one left standing, lifts his blaster and squeezes off a shot towards Vosaurd, the heartless killer who just wrenched the life out of a purple-breasted jack-a-dale, a favorite of /his/ estranged daughter.
Unluckily for Oeka, however, he's standing between the Knights and a much safer arena, the luxuriously decorated interior of the Chimaeric Jubilee.
There's little room for clear thought and conversation out here with the wind stealing sounds away almost as soon as they're made while the train screams on. "THEY ARE THE WAY INSIDE," Errod shouts in response to Domino, indicating where the guards came from with a desperate wave of his dagger. One of them, Oeka, is still coming from there, the only one not immediately snuffed out by the horrible fury of the Knights of Ren.
An oversight shortly remedied, as the monster hunter drags himself forward and digs his dagger into the man's thigh, mercifully distracting him from the senseless killing of a purple-breasted jack-a-dale. The next swipe takes a few hairs from his beard, and the third buries the blade in his side, shoving him off away from the train and clearing the path to board. "GET IN!"
With the guards dispatched, the way forward is clear. The interior of the train car before them is accessible by carefully dropping down and entering the door into a mobile lounge full of politicians, protesters, and young, wealthy upstarts.
Crawl. Crawl. Errod's call to action to abandon the top of the damned train is heard full and well, and Erisi will claw her way down, head still turned, to make her way to the end of the car they're atop. The head turn means she misses all the action, but keeps bugs and other detrius from smacking into her unprotected eyes.
Almost ..there. The last few feet she drops down to her tummy and drags herself forwards with kicks of her boots behind her, until she's able to grab the edge and slide on over like a slug on a log, grip held tight as she tumbles over, holding herself upright. Letting go she'll drop to her feet, no small amount of relief written on her windwhipped features, woman opening the car door with a smile, "Oh, amazing." She'll sidestep to allow the others through, pulling herself in between seats as she flickers fingers up into her hair to smooth down her bangs, picking at them and eyeing the folks on the train as she eyes the crowd. Let her get herself together, first, before she starts setting seats on fire.
Domino drops down and rolls her shoulder "Much better." Once she's dropped down inside, weapon lowered-for now. As Erisi sets things on fire she sigghhhs "Goddamnit, E-..." And she grunts abruptly and says nothing further though a head tilt towards one of the fires suggests brief distraction for some reason. Her head lifts and she scans the crowd, weapon still down as she scans the crowd. She makes sure as everyone drops in that she keeps Vos more or less in her line of sight.
Sebek basically just dropped down into the gap and walked into the train car with zero fuss. His electrosword was fritzing and humming and clearly hungry for a little bit more murder. These were the saviours? The people campaigning for freedom from this supposed premier order? Was there no order before it? And if there was, who picked the disingenuous name? Unacceptable.
It was this delay in speaking, as his mind ticked over, that undercut his attempts to terrify the everliving frack out of the occupants. Well, that, and: "FLOOZO SANDWICH!" erupted the Falleen, growl-hissing as though he were about to seriously lose his temper. "Dissident! Heretic! Fat! Bring him forth to be put to the sword and you remain alive to gorge, Those Who Gorge!" Was he hungry? He might be hungry.
Shrieks resound through the be-fancied train car as they lay eyes upon the entering Knights. "My god! Look at her hair!" cries one woman. "Nevermind that, Qoma! Look at their weapons!" cries another.
One waiter, upon hearing Sebek's cries for a Floozo Sandwich rushes hurriedly towards the Falleen, a platter of finger-sandwiches held out towards him.
At the rear of the car, however, Floozo Jammich screams in horror and turns to make his exit, scrambling through the throng to reach the door.
"You're not going to take Floozo!" cries a young man, one of the noted upstarts from before. "He's going to tear down your sick order, once and for all! He'll do what the Resistance and the Republic never could! The holonet will read about your atrocities and the people will rise up!"
The crowd, emboldened by the young man begin nodding and shouting along with him, pressing their way towards the Knights, though they don't seem to be armed.
Dropping into the gap behind the others and stepping inside the traincar, Errod doesn't bother to attempt to blend in; he's dressed in blacks and deep greys, masked, carrying half a dozen different weapons, and spattered with blood. There's a bloody knife in his hand that's humming and sending aerosolized blood particles into the air around it. Hopefully those two guards were into clean living. "Sandwich, Jammich. A traitor by any other name would smell as foul," the man grates hollowly from inside his mask, rasping voice made tinny by the metal echo chamber.
When the crowd starts heading towards them, he holds his dagger aloft, trying an old trick that worked for him a few times before. "BEHOLD, the blood of those who would defy the inevitable!" A few drops patter to the car floor, but it doesn't seem to dissuade the crowd in the slightest; if anything, a few appear to be galvanized by it, and press upon him. Pushing back, he manages not to be crushed beneath the tide of bodies, but they corral him against the aisle and prevent him from following after Floozo, while Errod helplessly struggles to elbow past them.
Vosaurd's attention focusses squarely on the young man that dares to raise his voice against the Knights of Ren. His eyebrow does arch as someone in the back of the car starts to flee, though his gaze remains transfixed on the young protestor as the group starts to shove their way through the car. As Vosaurd passes by him, his sword is engaged by a quick flick of his wrist -- the whip unfurling and buzzing to life. What follows is fast, 'blink and you will miss it' motion that sends the humming weapon through the torso of the young man! The weapon is withdrawn as quickly as it was thrust, the former gangster then shoving the body away to bleed out and perish. Not breaking stride, Vosaurd continues to shove past the others, brushing by elbows and making good headway through the tram car.
"Oh wait, we're going to be in the news??" Erisi asks after smoothing down her bangs (she chooses to take the 'the look at her hurrr' as a compliment, despite knowing otherwise), a look given to the protesting group, "Do you guys plan on having this on holovid or like ..you're just going to mention us as .." Oh, Floozo, god damnit. "Just, yes, all my angles are fine at this point-" Said as she pushes past the angry crowd, cybernetic arm doing most of the STRONK pushing as she continues forwards, free hand, her right one reaching down to snag her lightsaber and raise it above her head, the thing, when switched on, igniting the red blade into a very beautiful and opulent chandelier, pieces falling off and tinkling in protest. "Oh - are you /joking/ me, come ..on .." Twisting around to push back now she'll yank her saber with both hands and free it, chandelier breaking into pieces that hang woefully down, "Ha ha." She ready this time!
[Domino] Dom's notion of how damned annoying insane windspeeds are to operate is abruptly given a new basis of comparison as she gets swept back in the crowd, trying to elbow, wiggle and shove as she's jostled. "OW! Damnit! Stop! KRIFFIN STARS!!" As she's knocked down by panicked sentients, "I'M ABOUT TO START PUNCHING DICKS!!!" she rages impotently from somewhere.
Sebek ignored the buffetting to take a sandwich from the platter beheld forth by the waiter. "Behold, a man who knows his place!" he cried to the room as a whole and, though unable to take a bite from the delectable meal, was still buoyed by the thought of food. "His blood remains his!" For not even the Falleen mid-mission could resist a snack. Unfortunately, the throngs of people around the Knights took with them the waiter and the vaunted morsels. "No!" THWACK! "RETURN TO ME, HE WHO FEEDS!"
Too late, he gone.
Now Sebek was grumpy. And mad. Holding on to the sandwich for dear life, he turned his attention to the retreating Floozy Vanwidth and started walking, ignoring the literal hangers-on competing for his attention. "Your life is forfeit, He Who Cries! The longer you run, the slower your demise!"
These people are puffed-up revolutionaries who very much believe that wars are won with boardroom meetings and hearts and minds campaigns. It's because of this fact that, when the loudmouth is silenced by Vosaurd and Erisi begins swinging her lightsaber around, they're burning desire for political change is quelled, the lot of them falling back against the walls and shouting in terror, one or two of them trying to nurse the outcrier back into his mortal coil.
While this obstacle is dispatched, Floozo has made his escape into the next car; a room of servers serving as a go-between between the passenger's datapads and the philosopher's already sizable bank account.
With his compatriots scaring the passengers into compliance or something like it, Errod pushes roughly forward past those that had been crowding him, straightening his long, dope coat as he goes. "The only change in this galaxy comes through blood. Will you spill yours?" he poses rhetorically as he steps over the body of the loudmouth and out into the open air.
Slapping the panel to open the door to the next car, he slips in, pressing his body against the inside wall and glancing sharply about, his eyes narrow behind the mask. "I mislike this. You see over there?" His helmet tips upwards. "That is a container. Those cylinders. Meant to keep something, or someone, trapped inside." There are three of them, tucked away in the recesses of the car, obscured by the server stacks.
I'mmmm gonna swinnnnngggggg from the chandelieeeeeeer, from the chandelieEEEeeeer. Or at least Erisi is making it swing, ensuring Vosaurd ducks out of the way from any falling debris. With his attack and the red lightsaber providing enough intimidation to split the crowd like a poorly made bad hollandaise sauce, Vos is able to press forward at a much quicker pace. "He can't keep this up forever. There's only so many cars on this damned thing." Stepping forward into the much cooler and dryer server room, a quick survey of the area sends a tingle down Vosaurd's neck. "Ugh. Something about this feels like we just walked into a trap." Attention will shift to the cylinders that Errod points them out. "Did Jammich seal himself in one of those containers, you think? Mm, he would have had to have squeezed past those stacks." The idle question is posed as he looks to the far end of the tram car filled with machines. "Or did he keep going to the next car?"
There is a familiar tickling as Erisi steps into the server room from the other cart, her lightsaber lowering once free of all those clinger-on'ers in the last cart. Left hand holds the saber as she steps forward a few more steps behind Errod, stepping in to follow his path between serves and in along the wall, gaze shifting to try and capture sight of those cylinders, "Something." Said as she then glances back over her shoulder to Vosaurd, "No, he's not in here, at least I don't think, but something ..." She pauses, tastes the air with a squint of her eyes as she tries to read the messages the force is sending her through her fleshy brain folds and out into the broader flesh of her bod. "Mechanical -- robotic. Did you - say how -" The last asked of Errod as she chances to step forwards to look at the cylinders, or at least the direction he's pointing to exhale out, "Great, multiple, likely, but ...this is going to hurt. It's been alerted and .." A nod, features having paled slightly as she looks back between Vos and Errod, the two who have entered so far, "It's going to hurt." A sigh as she steps back to slap her back in against the train wall, saber held in front of her, "I also mislike this."
Domino gets to her feet with breathless cussing and a hand pressed against her side briefly. She takes a moment to checknher gear and her weapon which is returned to it's holster as she pats herself down while her gaze scans the room. She spots something of interest and moves towards three tall cylinders and after careful study, "Yo! He might be hiding in here! Any way to see without opening one?" She kneels, running her hand along the bottom and then finding a small bit of pannelling that pops loose. Gloved fingers slide upwards pulling out a wire and then a switch which yanks out and crosses two of the wires, this being faster than manual override. She steps back and ducks back, "HEADS up!" she alerts without a single apology even
[Sebek] Cold. Sebek was a desert creature, a lizard of arid lands. He did not like cold, and this only soured his mood further. Being sure to handle his small finger sandwich delicately and ignoring the feeling of danger crawling along his back, he pressed forward into the comms carriage. Being informed that something was going to hurt, however, stopped him dead.
It might hurt his sandwich.
"Then destroy it, She Who Ignites," he half-instructed half-ordered, definitely not his place. "I taste our quarry. He must not flee. For I did not become He Who Hunts by accident nor negligence." Ignoring She Who Cajoles and He Who Crushes (small birds), he pressed on through the carriage towards the end. Even if the dissident hadn't left, someone needed to cut off his escape.
Domino's quick on her feet as the KX-Series Droid crashes its way out of the cylinder, its meter-long arms whipping around and smashing a dent into a server stack that was meant to be Domino's head, showering the floor with sparks. <<UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY TO SERVER AREA. STANDY-BY FOR EXTERMINATION,>> it belows, its photosensors flickering to life and turning to land on the woman.
The doors of the other two tubes smack open, revealing the same build of droid behind them, the duo repeating the same canned lines as the other as they upright themselves and march out into the cramped space. These two, however, look to be in a woeful state of disrepair, a by-product of being purchased in black market GCW surplus auctions.
The warning from Erisi does not fall on deaf ears, and Errod tenses himself into a twisted spring that, when Domino opens one of the canisters anyway, unwinds in a hurtling dive at the droid that attacks her. His vibrodagger smashes into the server stack next to its arm, sending up a spray of sparks. The vibrating durasteel severs wires and smashes solid state machinery as it tugs free, scratching over the droid's torso unit with only cosmetic damage.
He's quick, but finely-tuned machinery is hard to beat, and the next pass of the blade meets only air. "Get behind me and don't touch any more buttons," the man growls at Domino, menacing the robot with his weapon and mentally considering whether he has time to reach over his shoulder and grab the handle of the chainwhip there instead. "Probably not," he murmurs without context.
"Poodoo." Vosaurd breathes, watching as a series of droids are dispatched following Domino seemingly pressing some buttons. The sheer force of their physical might is on display immediately, as one dents some hard looking metal with seemingly minimal effort. "Where the hell did our man run off to?" The question is made as Vosaurd takes a couple of steps away, hoping that it's enough to get him clear of immediate melee range. For the moment he doesn't attack. "Is this even a fight we should be having? Let's just blow by these hunks of scrap and keep chasing Jammich!"
[Erisi] "WAIT. Wait, wait - hey guys." Erisi says as she leans forwards to peek out at the droids which take up a lot of freaking space, "Hey." Her right hand is held out in a soothing sort of way to the droids, her eyes closing as Errod attacks one, "Ho- okay, hey - he's ...it's just a scratch, I swear." Eyes pop open again and she'll look to the other two droids, choosing Cresh as her new friend, "Okay, no, they're probably going to destroy your friends -" Nope. NOPE. Nope. That's not the way to go, and Erisi knows it, woman quickly backtracking, "But they won't destroy you! I promise! Everyone, Vosaurd, do /not/ blow up this -- see him? The one with the ..." A tilt further ,"Damaged right flank of the chassis. Don't touch him. See, they won't touch you, and you and I get to be great friends and /destroy/ things together!" Did the second attempt work? It did, she can sense it, a nice friend to her, "Cresh is it? I ..your designation, KX Cresh. I'm Erisi. Help me take out your friends and I'll get you a brand new parts, oh man, the oils I'mma buy you, the converters we're gonna install!"
Domino shrieks as she gets a better look and pivots, firing hastily as she backpedals hastily, looking for an out, or cover, or something, "Shit,shit,shit! GAH! Wbhy didn't I bring my EMP charge!?" she pauses "Oh. Right, Train. Shit!"
[Sebek] The battle was joined behind him but Sebek of the Desert, Flagbearer of Coret, Conqueror of the Sixteenth Deck, Consumer of Hounds, He Who Hunts had bigger fish to fry. Either confident in his comrades abilities or apathetic to their fates, he pushed out of the battlezone, to the windy gap between carriages, and into the driver's compartment.
The Falleen saw a few things: The driver. The controls. Flimsy Manditch himself, and Frumpy Handsmick on the comms calling desperately for help. Well that wouldn't do. The baton-sword shape of the Bilari uncoiled into a significantly less solid snake, and was swung straight forward into the train's communication system. Fritz. "Futile, futile, futile, He Who Cries," was his soft, velvety voice dripping with ooze. "Resist, and your fate is sealed. You," he twisted his head to the driver. "Act untoward and your fate is sealed."
<<A NEW FRIEND,>> bellows KX Security Droid Cresh, his hands lifting in triumph as Erisi persuades him to the cause, turning his attention to KX Besh, in a woeful betrayal.
Besh, marching down on Errod is distracted by Cresh's sneak attack, pulling his attention away from the Knight to more readily focus on defending itself. Aurek, however, continues its march, noting the woman with the laser sword and setting her as priority one.
Floozo, his last hope dashed, recoils, falling down to the floor and sliding back against the wall, hands held aloft in surrender. "I just...I'm just in it for the money! Y-you guys do great work! I just write what...what the people want," he cries, choking back the sobs that his great fear is bringing to his throat. The driver, similarly affected, nods quickly, eyes forward and hands stuck to the controls.
The droid turns its back on him. WHAT AN INSULT. Errod lunges at the thing, scratching its back this time, but the plating is thick on these droids; they were made at the height of Imperial power to exacting specifications, among the finest droids ever made. Top tier sensors and Errod's unfamiliarity with fighting metal means that a lot of swinging is going on but not a lot of damage is resulting from it, leaving the man breathing quickly behind the blank stare of his mask.
"Why are you singling //me// out?!" Vosaurd replies to Erisi as she instructs him not to blow up the droid with the damaged right flank. "I suppose I should be flattered you think I can just wreck these things with a single swing." Her follow-up communication with 'Cresh' earns a somewhat incredulous stare, legitimately unsure if she's just tripping out on her own thoughts or if she's actually doing something productive. Not in any sort of mood to disobey her though, he turns his attention to the other two droids present. It looks like Sebek had pushed on, and really? He's more than enough to settle things with their target. Pressing forward, the hooded human engages by swinging his sword down at Aurek! Unfortunately he finds that his blow is merely a glancing strike, resulting in little damage whatsoever. "Tch." At least he killed that guy earlier on. It's then that Cresh bellows something to Erisi, before turning its attention to the other droids. Alright, alright. "Not bad." He admits.
"YEAH!" Erisi cries out in triumph with her cool new tall friend, bouncing out on her heels into the main portion of the car while Sebek utilizes his terrifying umami to cajole and bring the front car folks into line, "Hooo hoo, we are gonna get you a NEW paint job, man!" As she celebrates her newfound friendship with her lightsaber at her side she'll completely forget there are two other droids, including Aurek. No, instead she'll turn on her heels to look at Vosaurd, "Because, you're the one just wanting to atta--" Oh, her darkside senses are tingling, and she'll duck down into a crouch as Aurek attacks her, Errods initial attack throwing off the droid just enough to give the woman a fighting chance, his subsequent attacks providing ample distraction so she can shift out of the way before raising her hand up to drag Aurek into the side of the car with a claw of her hand and a snap of her hand, crushing it, "/See/, you're already so much better off, Cresh!" Said from her crouched position, woman making to rise back up again, her lightsaber unignited. No fire, no fire -- these things are death traps if on fire. No fire, Eri. No fire. It's a mantra she repeats because if she sets the car on fire, they're gonna have to get /off/ the car. With deadly droids wanting to kill them, "Yeah - he'll keep me distracted from setting you all on fire, so .." Breathed out to Vos. The force is with everyone, apparently.
Domino continues to backpedal and weapon still raised her free hand hastily unzips a pocket and tugs out a powerpack. She fires off a shot at already damaged security droid before dropping her gaze to eject the spent pack and slide in the new one, giving a soft, impatient growl as she waits for the weapon to register the new pack which happens before she even has the weapon back up for all her impatience.
"<<Behold!>>" cried Sebek into his comm unit, his whipsword having snapped back to rigidity and pointed at their dissident target. "<<Our quarry is claimed! Bask in our might!>>" The battle was going well, they didn't need him, so he was content to let this train of glory ride on home to its station for pickup. "Fear not, He Who Cries, it is not yet your time." Pause. "Soon." Then he thumbed the comm again. "<<Bring about our glorious chariot, He Who Learns. It is time to depart this place.>>"
And not once did he let go of his tiny sandwich.
<<AGREED, NEW FRIEND,>> shouts BX Cresh, continuing to try and wail away at his former compatriot, vision of shiny new parts and paintjobs echoing through his processors. A brave new world for BX Cresh. One worth fighting for. Well, attempt to fight for. His attack continue to go wide, just smashing more dents into the walls, as the uncharacteristically agile Besh evades him, his attention returning once more to Errod with about the same amount of luck.
Meanwhile, the Night Buzzard, now run afoul of local authorities, evades incoming bolts from a pair of Z-95 Headhunters. <<Secure Floozo and get that train stopped, Sebek,>> he comms to the ground crew, whipping one of the Oubliette-class prison ship's bladed flanges into the side of one of his pursuers, sending the snubfighter rocketing towards the train, only to miss it by just a hair and smash into an office building, erupting in a cloud of flame and transparisteel.
There's work to do, and Errod is not the kind to sit on his hands when there's work to do. Operating in silence, he floats left and then jukes right, throwing himself bodily atop the droid and clinging to its lanky metal frame. The blade of his dagger, brandished high, digs down into the collar area of the robotics, then flails widely as the man is tossed about like a rider on the mechanical nerf at the Blue Light before a parting blow lands and he's tossed free, rolling across the floor into one of the server towers.
"Again, it feels like you're sort of singling //me// out here." Vosaurd growls, though the growl itself is not at Erisi; it's more the resulting noise he makes after trying to engage these hunks of metal. "Are you still mad about that time we had to haul up those stairs in wet robes?" Pause. "...please don't set me on fire." With his weapon proving to not be very useful, Vosaurd switches gears and, similar to Erisi just before him, swipes a hand to his side to send Besh crashing into the side of the car. His earlier telekinetic strike didn't work, but he'll put that down to the fact that he was on a speeding tram going at ridiculous speeds. Now he is INSIDE! And as a result? He has some reasonable success. "There we go." He mutters, securing his whip-sword and pocketing it to his belt. "Now it's time to get the hell out of here."
"Stop making me think of doing it then!" Erisi states angrily, though not angrily /at/ Vosaurd, just at the idea of having to stop herself from doing so, because goddess, he's so needy with the requests for reassurance she's not singling him out, "Not /yet/, Vosaurd, finish what you /start/ at least." CRUSH. CRONK. She too forcibly lifts and snaps the droid Besh as soon as Vosaurd discards it, the thing still able to hurt them very badly if they just leave it. So she finishes it off, off into the opposite wall once more, the train flesh no doubt crumbling under the pressure to expose the very fast moving outside beyond it, wind whipping in, "Cresh!" Erisi calls out, walking towards the droid as she lifts up her arms as if to embrace it, "Come on, snug me up into a hug, you're coming with us." Erisi keeps her promises, and this guy is her new frand! So he gets to carry her onto the Night Buzzard, "Our glorious chariot awaits." And all the parts she promised. Man. Good thing she bringing in that KoR paper.
Domino allows a long slow exhale as more competent souls dispatch the remaining droid-er. That is the remaining droid who has not proven itself friendly to Erisi. "Fantastic idea, Vosaurd." she glances at Erisi and the droid but whatever commentary she almost made is simply rendered to a soft concerned grunt, "Small chance we might be sitting ducks getting off this thing if someone was coming to intercept this thing?"
"<<Hm,>>" was Sebek's acknowledgement of his instructions. It was a damned sight better than his normal 'you are fat, He Who Learns, I will eat you' etc etc. Tilting his head, he pivoted the sparking blade towards the driver. "Halt this vessel, He Who Obeys," he ordered him, picking back up that quiet oozy velvety tone, not helped in aural palatability by the mechanical twinge and artificial deepness it added to his already deep voice, "or I shall halt this vessel myself, and then eat you."
Job done, to He Who Cries, the Falleen pivoted the Bilari sword back. "Stand, turn away, arms back. Your life is courtesy, for I am very polite." fkn lol, he said, as he readied some basic bindings. Tying the man's hands behind his back securely (and deftly holding his sandwich at the same time), his next words were almost whispered into the dissident's ear. "If I am forced to reconsider, you will survive." Pause. "But you will wish you did not."
<<INITIATING AFFECTION SUBROUTINES,>> BX Cresh barks, reaching down to wrap the smol woman in its cold embrace. A trio of mechanical back-pats follow before it picks her up.
At Sebek's behest, the train engages its brakes, screetching to a halt and no doubt tipping over several high-society types in the back stretch of cars.
Narrowly getting out of the way of his pursuers attacks, Syrus will whip the ship to hover just above the motionless train, a hyper route already in the system so the Night Buzzard can zip away into lightspeed as soon as everyone's secure.