Mornings Come and Go

[CaptainBonkers]

"Want to give me a hand, Jayec? Emerald wine's way stronger than a bottle of whiskey; when we find some, you could give it a try." 

Jayec chuckled at the younger man's suggestion, unexpected as it might have been. "I like you, lad but that sounds suspiciously like work. Can you afford my hourly rate?" his words were in jest, of course. A small favor such as helping out with some supply side issues was something he was willing to do for almost free for good customers. Sure, Theo might not have technically been Jayec's customer but the lad was close to Lidah so helping him out was an indirect favor for the boss lady. Besides, the chance to nab a bottle of expensive sounding alcohol for free was always worth considering even if Jayec suspected Theo's claim about the stiffness of the drink. As rule, whiskey tended to be way stronger than any wine.

This little outing had been surprisingly pleasant so far, as well as an unexpectedly informative one. That offhand remark about Korriban was something Jayec couldn’t quite shake but at the same time wasn’t sure if he wanted to look too deeply into. It would have been shame to discover something that would force him to terminate such a lucrative relationship by stumbling over some buried corpse. Some things were kept secret fro a reason and a smart man learned when not to go looking for them.

The pleasant atmosphere was dispelled in an instant when ‘generalissimo’ voiced his concerns. Never one to outright dismiss another man’s gut feeling, Jayec perked up and surveyed his surroundings with more active eyes. He had done a cursory scan of the other customers at the diner upon entering it but none of them had ringed any alarm bells. They were a shifty bunch, sure, and every single one of them was packing heat but this was Nar Shadda. Shifty and armed was the default setting for locals. It would have been suspicious if any of them had not been carrying. But none of them posed no direct threat to Jayec and his company, not with those laser pointers they were carrying. By the time one of them could get a lucky shot through his armor, the four of the would have likely mowed down everyone in the diner if need be. No, the danger coming from other customers didn’t seem likely. None of them displayed any telltale signs of preparing for a fight; no nervous ticks or quick glances at the clock or at the counter. Nothing that would signal any of them were waiting or planning for trouble. If any trouble was going to interrupt this breakfast it would be coming from outside the diner.

As soon as his eyes moved to the doorway, he saw them through the windows. A group of thugs were strolling towards the diner, carrying their blasters openly in broad daylight. Even for Nar Shaddaa, where the law was whatever the biggest crime-boss in the neighborhood wanted it to be, that was kind of brazen. Jayec did not know whom they were coming after but there was one in three chance that they were here to whack the woman who was paying Jayec a generous retainer to be on call in case she needed someone or some place shot up. Ensuring her safety was the priority at the moment.

Jayec sprung into action. With a quick, instinctive motion he snatched his helmet from the counter and as he sprinted towards Lidah slid it over his head. The thugs spotted him, alerted by the sudden movement and hesitated for a moment. It was clear that the sight of a fully armored and armed Mandalorian warrior made them reconsider their current plan. However, after exchanging few quick looks with each other they decided that quantity could beat quality and proceeded to open fire at them. Their momentary hesitation was enough for Jayec, though. By the time the blaster fire began shredding the diner, he was already over the counter, dragging Lidah along as gently as it was possible in a hurry and while wearing a beskar’gam.

“Sorry about that, miss. I figured they were likely after you.” Jayec rolled off of her quickly and stood up out of cover for a split second, both to asses the situation and to return fire. He ducked back behind the counter before he could ascertain whether or not he had hit anything firing from the hip. A loud shriek of pain piercing the air suggested that he had, or at least winged someone pretty well. “I count, four or five hostiles but there could be more coming at us. Everyone still alright?”

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

”I appreciate your intent, Thel – but emptying the Eye every time I want to have a private conversation is no way to run a business. I hope you do not feel put out, Jayec. I’d like nothing better than for you to spend some of your hard earned fee back into our establishment.” The pancakes were perfect, fluffy and lightly sweetened. Lidah pointedly ignored any and all comments about inferior breakfast. Vance was just wrong. Pausing to type in a response for Mr. F, she marked the change in Locke’s demeanor. Was Forte – Jazen – being sloppy with his aura, getting clocked by his old master at such a distance? It was hard to tell with her own senses diminished. Acknowledged. Before she had time to slide the device back into her purse, another message was scrolling across the readout. ”Shit.” Botto the Hutt. A stubborn enemy these last five years, but usually not a stupid one. He wouldn’t attack unless he thought he could win – or profited some other way from the endeavor. Lidah keyed in an emergency code, alerting security at the Eye. Abruptly the world twisted sideways. Jayec dragged her up and over the counter, scattering dishes and the remnants of breakfast. Lidah quickly found her balance and sank into a crouch. ”Most likely. Thank you.” She crept along behind the bar, throwing off the mask on her presence, letting her senses stretch and asses. No point in hiding if she was already caught in the trap. Away from the others in case their assailants had grenades. Now that she was looking for it, she could feel the hostile intent of Botto’s thugs. Dull in comparison to the sudden, vivid fear and brighter pain as blaster fire raked the cafe. Lidah sent simple, unsubtle commands into each of those minds. Stay low. Hide. Don’t try the door.

[Fromikeable]

Vance was about to open his mouth in defense of his suggestion when it became clear that the morning was over. Between Lidah's swear, Locke's look of concern, and Jayec's sudden review of their company, it was all he could do to shut his mouth and stretch his presence as far as he could, encompassing as much of their surroundings as he could.

Speeders... diners... pedestrians, stall-operators, street rats and animals... oh. The small squad of people walking through the middle of the street might have something to do with it. Especially how their presences moved in harsh, jerky swipes, clearly harboring the intent to ki-

The sound of gunfire ended all thought as Jayec was moving before any of them, practically dragging Lidah over the counter. Vance proved a hair slower, following suit as a bolt zipped close enough to his ear for the heat to singe his hair, making a few of the ends glow. The restaurant exploded with the sound of breaking glass, automatic blasters, and flashing red lights as the other denizens screamed, flipped tables, curled under cover, and in the worst cases, hollered as the fire threatened to pelt them instead.

Vance just closed his eyes, concentrating hard for a moment. His presence surged outward, moving in practiced motion that seemed less focused on general overview and more on precise, interrogative learning.

"Five, two rifles, two repeaters, one with pistols!" Opening his eyes, he looked around the back of the counter as he continued, yelling over the assault. "Sixth across the street, longer rifle, sniper!" Not sensing anyone else, his eyes found what they were looking for; a heavy swinging steel door that separated the dining room from the kitchen. Raising a hand, Vance's brow furrowed. With the flex of his fingers, the slab of metal ripped free of its hinges, floating forward above them as a makeshift barrier.

Hopping up behind it, Vance grabbed his saber with his other hand as it advanced. The green blade hissed to life as the mercenaries paused again, exhibiting that same concern they'd shown when they'd seen Jayec.

Vance gave them no opportunity to reconsider. With another roll of his hand, the steel door went rushing forward, slamming top-first into one of the mercenaries carrying a repeater. The mercenaries broke from their firing line in front of the diner as their friend went dancing with the tumbling door out into the street, moving to cover as they continued shooting. This time, they all had the same target, but try as they did to hit it, the sage green blade deflected every shot, some whizzing almost straight back toward them, others zipping toward the walls of the cafe.

"I'll keep them busy!" If Vance knew how to do anything, it was how to prove infuriatingly difficult to hit in a fight.

[Rugs]

Locke, keeping his gaze down on his plate as he probed the restaurant with the Force, noticed Jayec scanning the room around them. Multiple presences stood out, their intent to kill wafting from them like noxious fumes in the Force. Locke loosened the restraints on his presence ever so slightly, stretching his perception further, to beyond Fork’s walls. More assailants waited outside. It seemed Novus had made some brazen enemies, to be attacking a restaurant in the middle of the morning.

He started to rise, but halted for a brief moment. One presence, distant and faint, but familiar, caught his attention. I haven’t felt that in... He glanced at Novus from the side of his eye. Interesting. Locke’s gaze turned over his shoulder, looking out the window. Friend or foe, though?

It would be an understatement to say things escalated quickly from there.

Jayec dove across the bar, taking Novus to safety with him. Vance tore a metal door from its hinges and threw it at one of the assailants. At the same time, Locke felt Novus’ presence spread like fog through the restaurant as civilians dove for cover.

Locke dove behind a flipped over table as blaster fire burned through the air around him. His blaster was in hand as he turned and fired a shot that left a goon on the ground down with a smoldering burn in the middle of his face.

As their assailants turned their ire to Vance, Locke subtly reached out with the Force and yanked one by the leg, pulling him into the side of the metal doorframe. The man staggered, but wans’t done for.

“So do we get a meals comped for this?” he wondered aloud to no one in particular.

Yet the situation was concerning--not because of the number of attackers--but their boldness. Who wants you dead enough to try this? he wondered with a glance toward the counter.

[Jazen]

The man had been dead before he even hit the ground, a knife trailing blood as Forte removed it from his heart. He had come up from behind him, a whisper in the shadows and stabbed him right through the heart, his other hand covering the man's mouth so no final gasp could escape as he was lowered to the ground. He retrieved the sniper and eyed it before removing the clip and tossing it far away. One threat removed.

By then, the battle below was in full stride. He knew Novus was in there, along with three others. One he was quite familiar with, from long ago. Another was a man he dealt with almost on a daily basis, as he was Novus's other main enforcer. The third, a business partner, he believed. But one wearing a true version of the armor Forte wore. They had fire power to spare down there, without a doubt. More than enough to deal with a hap hazard attempt at her life like this. But why would Botto think this would be enough? Forte was halfway through the third and final sniper when he realized something. This was merely the scouting party. How did he realize that?

From the vehicles that came streaming up the streets, laden with heavily armed mercenaries. Botto's symbol on some of them, the rest freelancers no doubt being paid a fortune. So. Botto wants to end this today. Something big must be going down.

Now they were in trouble. That was a lot of firepower and they were pinned down. And with the heavy blasters atop the vehicles, they'd make swiss cheese of the Fork's walls. He clicked his comm again, even as he pulled the last heavy sniper up and sighted it in on the nearest driver. We have heavy incoming. Botto's coming full force. Vehicles and heavily armored troops. You need to move or... he paused, considering, before adding...or we have to bring full force. He knew she'd know what that meant. For they might have been outnumbered, but they tended to hold back in public. Discreet. But his suggestion was that some of them stop hiding behind a facade. Including the man in there with her, who was posing as a smuggler.

Forte also knew what it meant for him as well. But it beat letting his charge die. And...well. His leveled the rifle and fired, dropping the man who was about to rush into the building with a weapon that clearly would have blown the place wide open. Then he swung the weapon and started unleashing hell towards the incoming troops.

He wasn't want for targets.

[CaptainBonkers]

What the hell was going on here? A damn war? Thugs kept pouring in, though the tide slowed after the first few to enter the diner were downed by the defenders. Some of the less dedicated and smarter of the hired guns were making the smart decision and deciding that fighting a Manadlorian and a Jedi wasn't what they had signed up for. Or a Sith, considering the Korriban comment that Tryvast had dropped earlier. That was a discussion for a later time. In either case, the smarter ones saw a beskar'gam and a lightsaber and legged it. The rest, which was a surprising number, decided to keep throwing themselves at them in an effort to overrun them with sheer numbers. It was a valid tactic, though one that didn't speak highly of the enemy's intelligence. Throwing men at a problem until it went away or you ran out of bodies required about as much intelligence as breathing through one's nose and a terribly wasteful approach.  

Although Jayec was sure that Lidah had already alerted her goons to the location he wasn't about to risk the cavalry not coming. So after firing a quick burst of blaster fire at the approaching horde, he ducked back behind the cover and activated his own emergency beacon. The signal was set out on the airwaves and replies began raining in only moments after. His comrades would be here in a few which would most likely spell the end of the shoot out. If a squad of mandalorian warriors dropping on the thugs did not disperse them, Jayec would be quite surprised.

A barrage of heavy blaster fire shook the walls of the diner, easily shredding through the unarmored duracrete. Jeayec peered out, seeking the source of the heavy barrage and discovered it quite quickly. It would have been quite hard to miss to speeders with heavy gun turrets jutting out of their roofs. That might have been a problem but like always Jayec had been well prepared to fight even if he hadn’t expected to. With a quick flick of his wrist, the rangefinder on his helmet dropped over the T-shaped visor and began acquiring target. A few seconds later the targeting computer in his helmet had marked the speeder closer to the diner and provided a targeting solution for the anti-armor missile attached to Jayec’s jetpack.

“Cover me!” he shouted, more out of habit than from expectation of any of his current companions providing adequate covering fire. None of them had heave enough hardware to suppress any of the bumblefucks charging at the Fork. Though the lad probably could have thrown rocks or something with his Jetii sorcery…

He stepped out of cover and steadied his feet as hail of blasterfire rained around him. Ignoring the few glancing hits the thugs managed to score at him, Jayec leaned forward and launched the missile on his back. It flew in a graceful arc through the shattered window and once outside, took a sharp turn towards the sky zooming high up in the air before suddenly coming down on top of the speeder. There was a small explosion upon impact which was then seconds later followed by a much larger one that turned the vehicle into a ball of fire and broken pieces of metal

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Lidah came back to herself, blinking grit from her eyes. The walls and counter were starting to crumble beneath the onslaught of blaster fire, dumping debris on her head and back. Not good. While any business on Nar Shaddaa might expect to fend off the occasional thief, Fork was not fortified for an assault like this. The Blind Eye was, though. Six blocks. I can make that. Easy. What was a little urban warfare to Rhen Var, to Taris? She crept forward, stepping over the body of the twi’lek laborer. No sign of the kid and no time to look. Without a flicker of hesitation she shucked the still pliant corpse out of his bloody jacket and threw it on over her own too-recognizable clothes. A cap from the maintenance closet came close to hiding her hair. Let’s hope Jazen took care of the sniper. Staying in the building until it fell down around her was not an option. With a steadying breath, Lidah drew the saber hilts out of her purse and dropped the empty bag. Quickly, she ducked out the cafe’s back door and into the alley. No shot came. She exhaled slowly and consciously altered her posture – masculine gait, slight limp to account for the blood. Hunched shoulders. On the other side of the building, something exploded. Six blocks.

[Fromikeable]

Vance developed a rhythm as Jayec and Tyr both seized the opportunity he was affording them, another two of the mercenaries dropping like sacks. Those that remained kept firing, the looks of desperation creeping onto their faces slower than their presences. That feeling only appeared to grow as Vance started to get their number, every deflected shot being sent back closer and closer to their senders, his wrist loosening up in its small, subtle Soresu movements. When a deflected bolt finally retraced its exact path and nailed one of the remaining mercenaries just below his chin, their resolve seemed to waver. Would it be enough?

The sound of speeders thundering down the street seemed to answer in the negative. As they skidded to stops before the cafe, their guns were already turning, the power packs humming.

It was all Vance could do to point and bend a finger, one of the gun barrels set to spinning a full revolution as it fired. The other forced him down into cover, however, knowing better than to try and block such big bolts.

As dust rained on them all, Vance's comm buzzed, zipping to his free hand before turning on. Holding it close to his ear, Vance managed to make out the cool voice through the sound of gunfire. "Thelonious? This is your optometrist." The callsign wasn't lost on him; the "optometrists" were the Blind Eye's security. "I was wondering if you needed a house call today."

"Wouldn't mind one!" Clearing his throat, he blinked at Jayec's declaration. "Hold that thought!" Placing the comm on the ground below him, Vance sprang up from cover anew, watching the turrets atop the speeders practically spray across the cafe. Jayec's missile struck true, one of them going up in smoke after only a few seconds.

The perfect opportunity. Stretching out both hands, Vance squinted with focus, his palms facing upward as his fingers curled. Slowly, both of the speeders, one ablaze and ruined, the other's turret spinning with confusion, found themselves pitching up as they levitated, rising above the street. Once they were a few feet up, Vance's hands spread out, reached out as far to his sides as they could. The speeders followed suit, moving away from each other with their bottoms facing the sky, their fronts facing one another.

As Vance smashed his hands together, the speeders burst forward with speed, colliding with the tell-tale screeching of warping metal. The still-operational speeder burst with flames as the other crumpled especially well.

To finish, Vance brought his hands down and to the side. As a duo of mercenaries tried to take shots at the exposed Mandalorian, the combined wreckage of the speeders came rushing down atop them, crushing them and the stall they had taken cover behind.

Reactivating his saber, Vance resumed blocking shots, the comm zipping up from the floor to his ear, allowing him to resume yelling over the gunfire. "Just a short visit though! Wouldn't want you leaving your office empty on such a busy day!" If the Hutts were so eager to attack the Fork, what might they be getting ready for down the street at the Blind Eye, especially knowing that none of them were there? No, the Exchange needed to prioritize their headquarters, only sending the personnel that could be spared.

That said, even the personnel that could be spared would be more than helpful.

[Rugs]

Speeders. “Really?” Locke asked aloud as the next wave of goons came rolling up to assault the Fork. As the heavy blaster fire tore through the building, Locke almost felt bad about his joke. As things stood now, this place wouldn’t be in any shape to compensate anything anytime soon.

But he was too focused on not getting shot to shreds to give any spare thought to Fork’s financial status. With an annoyed groan, he loosed the shackles from his presence entirely. It was rare, even on the Smuggler’s Moon, for one gang to move against another with such brazen force.

It was tantamount to a declaration of war. But against the actual war Locke had spent eight years fighting?

This was nothing.

He caught a glimpse of Novus bolting, as a blaster shot whizzed by his head. She was leaving Fork. Locke could only guess she was heading back to her base, but he’d have to catch up with her later. If the goons were after her, that might stop the assault. If they had any sort of cognitive ability beyond a blind bum-rush of the restaurant.

A missile whooshed over his head, and a heartbeat later, one of the speeders went up in flames. Shortly thereafter, both speeders were raised and crushed together, and ultimately brought crashing down atop some hapless mercenaries.

With his senses unhindered, Locke could feel more presences rushing toward them, but these felt as if they meant to defend something, rather than attack. So too did the other presence that stuck out against the noise and fear and chaos. That was something to deal with later.

Locke stood from behind his cover. The few gang members that remained still fired away, though they seemed hesitant now.

A barrier materialized out of nothing as Locke raised his hand. It curved around Locke, Vance and Jayec, just inside the Fork’s battered walls. It glowed with a subtle blue light that rippled slightly as blaster fire harmlessly hit it.

Locke kept one hand steady. With the other, he motioned, guiding the Force into the minds of some of the attackers. They were simple goons, so getting in wasn’t the hard part--splitting his focus between that and the shield was. Yet once he was in, his command to turn them on their comrades was about as simple as turning a lock in a door.

The more compromised ones -- the ones who were already on the verge of fleeing -- they made the easiest targets. Their fellows looked stunned when they started shooting at them, and soon the attacking force was as busy fighting itself as it had been trying to kill the Blind Eye crew.

There was a time when Locke might have frowned on using the Force like that, but fighting in wars had a way of hardening the heart, in certain arenas.

[Jazen]

The sniper was more than dealt with; all three were corpses cooling in the hot night air. And with the one remaining weapon, Forte was raining down hell on the attackers, who were not only forced to focus on their target, but the sudden attack from behind their numbers had them having to try and focus on that as well. And Forte's shots were deadly, guided by an unseen hand as he dropped any man that dared leave his head up. The Fork was becoming rubble by the second, but the defenders within, no doubt with the message passed on, were no slouch.

One speeder was destroyed by the powerful missile most jetpacks carried. And before the fires had even begun to cool on that one, both speeders were suddenly airborne...airborne and smashed into one another, leaving them wrecks with bodies everywhere. And then, then!, suddenly members of the crew were turning on one another. That was curious, but the confusion he saw in them, felt in them...ah. Now that was quite the ruthless trick Jedi. His eyes darted about the scene, analyzing what he saw, drinking in the details as fast as he could.

He felt her more than saw her, at first. Then he saw the hunched form a person escaping the scene. A quick glance to the Fork, its remains, debating. No, she was his charge. Vance and the other two in the Fork had things handled here. He didn't want to leave Lidah alone; Botto was clearly throwing the house at them this time. Which meant he wanted things over...and despite the numbers, Botto was not a dumb slug. He wouldn't leave any route between here and their base of operations unattended.

Dumb slug, actually. He picked the wrong person to anger. And miss.

His pack roared to life as he dropped the rifle and drew his blasters, skidding the rooftops with speed and precision. Keeping himself to the shadows as best he could, while keeping one eye to her in the street. Blasterfire ahead...the Eye's defenders no doubt, running into more mercenaries. Which would not be a real problem, expect that it meant there were enemies on either side of her. Again, not a problem, but it meant there was more time that someone could get lucky in. His blaster snapped out and picked off a goon or two that were waiting as snipers atop the roofs, sure it was only a few blocks, but Botto had planned ahead.

On your six. The Blind Eye is under attack. Minimal damage, but they're being held down. Came his voice suddenly over her comm device. Central reports incoming as well. Possible small fighter class ships. Botto is playing all his cards. Assist here or assist your guests.

The question was unspoken, in its own way, but he was close enough in either direction with his jetpack to be at either site. And he could hear them, the whine of the fighters, the whine of more speeders approaching. Botto had no lack of funds or troops, that was the main concern with him. He lacked quality but in quantity, he did not falter. Which meant they were likely taking on the full might of Botto the Hutt, or at least a fair part of it. The slug will not have enough. He mused to himself as he awaited her directive.

[CaptainBonkers]

Jayec was gradually beginning to feel a little worried as he kept firing at the evergrowing horde of shit for brains rent-a-guns that still kept coming at the quite irreparably damaged Fork in a tactical equivalent of a straight line. Not over his life, not by a mile, but rather that this clusterfuck was going to take all day. Jayec had things to do, people to meet and while some of those customers might accept shit like this as an excuse, Jayec didn't. This was a pointless fight and pure waste of his time. It served no purpose for anyone, pushed no limits and would only end in the death of bunch greedy idiots that apparently had failed at sentience 101; basic self preservation. Then again removing all those failures from the general genepool was probably ultimately a humanitarian service for the whole Galaxy.

A sound of powerful engines pierced the sound of blasterfire that filled the air. Jayec couldn't recognize the model but the roar was too powerful to be made by speeder engines; no, that noise was from a sub-orbital craft or from a proper starfighter. Since neither of his companions had warned him of any arriving air support, Jayec had to assume that the approaching nose came from hostile aircraft. This just keeps getting better and better… With air support these jackanapes might actually begin to pose some kind of danger, though they would still be relying more on luck than skill to kill the defenders inside the diner. Only now they would be trying to get lucky with more powerful weapons than speeder mounted heavy blaster-cannons. If the enemy’s leader had anykind of sense those fighters would be armed with bombs or missiles, both of which spelled trouble for Jayec and co. So far the enemy had been fairly hesitant at using grenades or other explosives but then again, throwing a grenade at a jetii was just begging to have it thrown back at you. Considering the general lack of intelligence these dunderfucks were displaying, though, it was equally likely that they had not been supplied with too many of things that went boom if handled improperly.

The sound of the fighters’ engines grew gradually louder and louder until, just as they were close enough to be over the diner, a new sound joined their roaring. However, while the sound of the fighters had caused worry to slwoly creep up his spine, this new engine filled Jayec with pure mirth. Not two seconds had passed from Jayec recognizing the approaching craft, when two explosions above the diner shook the battered walls of the diner. The explosions were followed by a rain of scrap and fire as two fighters plummeted to the ground, engulfed in flames and Bes’galaar cruised over the scene of the battle, sowing death among the enemy’s ranks.

“Oya Manda!” Jayec shouted with satisfied grin on his face. Time to end this shitshow.

Bes’galaar was a mercenary ship that defied exact definition. Military types would probably have called it a gunboat although it was far too large for that designation as well as boasting a set of weapons that made many frigate captains break in cold sweat. A corvette came close to being accurate but to qualify as such Bes’galaar was too small. Ultimately, it was a Manadlorian cargo ship that had been modified over several years to be something completely different but its ultimate purpose had never changed. The old bird still transported Mandalorian warriors to battle.

The ship veered around for another pass. This time it rained proton torpedoes on the enemy vehicles, reducing them into balls of fire in a blink of an eye. Then, instead of flying past the battlefield and circling around, Bes’galaar slowed down, coming to a halt above the Fork and hovering above the diner like a shadow made of iron. It hovered just high enough above the diner to be outside the effective range of the balsters employed by the enemy but still close enough to return fire as well as allow Jayec’s comrades to jump out of the cargo bay and join the battle. Which was exactly what they did, and with a flair.

As the cargo bay doors began to open up, a howling siren went off, warning everyone below that Mandalorian warriors were about to descend down on them like the proverbial hammer of gods. Before the doors had opened completely a handful of grenades were thrown from the inside. Jayec recognized them. “Don’t look!” he shouted to his comrades and quickly jumped into cover. There was a loud bang, accompanied by an extremely bright light and a stream of heavy smoke. And then while the enemy tried to regain their bearings Jayec’s warriors jumped out of Bes’galaar’s gut.

Five fully armed and armored children of Manadlore emerged from within the ship. They jumped off, without hesitation and landed in the middle of the paralyzed enemy, raining hell and death upon them the whole way down. When their boots touched the ground, half of the goons that still could see had decided that now was the time to leg it.

“Sucuy’gar, alor!” rang Kenna’s voice over the comm channels. “What the hell is going on here?”

Jayec, already sprinting to join with his comrades scoffed dismissively. “Honestly? I have no idea. A mass suicide perhaps?”

“Sure seems like it. Do we take prisoners?”

Jayec shrugged at his second’s question. “I don’t think these mir’osik know anything worth asking.”

Kenna was clearly happy to hear his answer. “Copy that, alor.” she replied and got to work.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

The whine of a jetpack followed her for about a block. Lidah ignored it, teeth grinding together in irritation. She did not need a tail. Ducking into another alley, she continued on her indirect path toward the Eye. Her comlink chimed incessantly in her pocket until she was forced to trade it out for a saber hilt. ”Go home, Forte. Regroup.” The street itself shook beneath her heels, the bass thrum of ship engines if she was not mistaken. Fighters. Blaster fire coming from the Eye. Had the whole moon gone mad? The expense alone was too much for her to figure. No doubt there would be reports to enlighten her on the exact cost later. Then another ship roared overhead, a deeper sound that vibrated in her bones and belly. Bes’galaar. Jayec Veth’s command. Lidah slowed, back to a solid wall, and laughed up at the ensuing light show, disbeliving. ”If Botto the Hutt can top that, then I deserve to die for being this damn stupid.” Lidah muttered into her com, rolled her shoulders. The noise ahead was beginning to fade, or else was simply drowned out by the big guns. Hard to say from where she stood. She would have to send Jayec a crate of something nice. ”Are we clear?” She asked Jazen’s disembodied voice, then made the final sprint. The Blind Eye recognized its master – or rather the shielded IFF chip anchored to her spine. The armored panels opened just long enough admit her. Lidah peeled out of the dead man’s clothes, shoving them into the hands of a slightly perturbed hostess. She rocked to her toes, making brief eye contact with this shift’s head of security. ”How’s the Eye?” She reached back out through the Force, a subtle nudge against mental barriers to let Vance and Locke know she was safe.

[Fromikeable]

Vance knew that sound all too well. The scream of engines rushing by overhead was too sharp and powerful for speeder repulsors; those had to be fighters. What in the galaxy were the Hutts thinking, launching a full-scale military assault mid-day against the Exchange's stronghold? Were they that bold, that stupid, pr that clever?

Considering how many mercenary corpses were in the street and how little damage they'd done to anything that wasn't the Fork, Vance was guessing it wasn't the third option.

All thought was put on hold as a larger ship came to hover overhead. Vance could feel the presences aboard even before Jayec was yelling for them to cover his eyes. Dipping his face into his elbow as the world flashed white, he could already see what earned them their reputation. The mercenaries squabbling beneath them had wild, flickering presences that shrunk and swelled with their fears, confidence, bloodlust, and mettle. But the people dropping from the ship…

Those Mandalorians truly were the iron souls all of the war poems described them as.

In more than a little awe of the warriors, Vance stared for just a moment, suddenly incredibly glad that he'd never had to fight one during the war. Jogging out with Jayec to join them, three sensations competed for Vance’s attention. First was the crescendoing screams of the starfighters as they made another run on the casino, putting craters in the roof but failing to get through the armor. Second was the feeling of Lidah’s presence tapping his, signaling her safety within the Eye. Third was the return of the voice at his comm, prompting him to hold it up to his ear again.

”Sorry for the wait. We just had a bunch of walk-ins.”

”I guess allergy season started early this year. Poor Janice at the front desk must be swamped.”

”We hired a temporary assistant just the other day to help her out. I just wish he wouldn't smoke on the roof.” Sure enough, a group of Exchange agents could be seen setting something up on the roof of the Blind Eye, assembling a base and a turret of some kind, a large salvo of small rockets being placed on top. As the fighters came around for a third pass, the turret was already tracking them. With a long series of bursts, the entire salvo was fired at once, a rocket being dispensed for each fighter.

”Gross." Vance watched as the fighters scrambled to evade, most failing. A single pilot proved successful, his missile missing low and hitting a billboard instead.

”Speak of the devil, I just found a butt on the carpet.” The men atop the casino scrambled to reload the turret as the lone fighter bore came around for them again, lining itself up with the street.

”By the way, I don't think I need a new prescription.” Relying on the Mandos around him for cover, Vance reached a hand out toward the street, closing his eyes. As he could feel the fighter slicing through the moon’s atmosphere, his fingers began to curl.

”Are you sure about that?”

”Positive.” Balling his hand into a fist, the fighter seemed to struggle as it swooped lower, jostling. As Vance dragged his fist downward, the fighter's engines screamed with effort as its nose kept pitching toward the street, as if pushed by some giant invisible finger.

As soon as it made contact, the resulting exploration made a mess of every window along its path. Burning metal and screaming mercenaries barreled toward them, skipping along the street like stones across a pond. It was all Vance could to hold up his palm again, doing everything he could to slow them all. The entire flaming mess came to stop mere feet from the Fork’s party, the mercenaries still alive in the street before them either fleeing or dying.

As more Exchange agents (and an apparently armed kitchen staff from the Fork) came running to support them, Vance could only look back at Locke with a minor expression of concern. The agents and their armed chefs pressed forward to assault what resistance remained, affording Vance the time for a comment before they moved with them.

”Maybe the prescription’s too strong.” The Hutts were still in the lead for collateral damage, but he'd definitely just scored them a point on that particular chalkboard.

Meanwhile, within the Eye, the head of security finally peeled his own comm away from his ear, addressing his employer. ”Roughed up but unpenetrated. Reinforcements are swarming in, plus the Mandalorians are here.” With a sigh, the beleaguered Firrero man allowed himself a shrug.

”Unless they brought a fleet to bomb us with, they're out of options.”

[Rugs]

“Sure, why not?” Locke asked no one in particular as he heard the scream of fighter engines tearing through the sky above. “Why not send in some fighters against a Force-damned restaurant?”

He swiped the air, as if motioning along a long holo screen and the barrier winked out of existence. The goons were too busy fighting amongst themselves to post much threat to the crew inside, so there wasn’t much need to maintain the energy to keep the shield up.

Almost as soon as he’d done that, he heard the roar more engines approaching, but with these, he could feel the friendly presences from earlier drawing closely. Jayec’s back up then.

Locke turned away to shield his eyes at Jayec’s instruction, and when he turned around, there were fully-armored Mandalorian warriors wading into the cluster of Hutt goons, who had surely never expected to fight real Mandalorians.

A set of distant thumps signaled the end of two fighters, and shortly later a third came crashing down in a fiery mess in the middle of the street. Not far from them.

Vance, who’d torn the thing out of the sky with the Force, looked back at Locke sheepishly, but the Jedi Master shrugged in exasperation. “I just wanted breakfas-”

“I told you to get the hell outta my kitchen!” Locke turned to follow the voice, which roared out of the kitchen behind them. A besalisk in chef’s coat and white hat came charging out, with some poor thug gripped in his two lower hands while the other two shoved a comically large scattergun in his face. Locke caught the a flash of the chef’s name tag, which read Max as he pushed the goon into the crumbling counter.

The goon waved his arms frantically and tried to talk, but couldn’t say much of anything with the gun pressed to his face as it was. Max leaned forward, head turned slightly as if trying to listen to the man.

“Nope,” the chef said. “That won’t won’t cut it, mate.”

He pulled the trigger. The Hutt thug’s head disappeared into a red smear on the countertop.

“Stupid piece of - What’re you lookin’ at?” The Besalisk had noticed Locke starting at the whole thing.

“Nothing,” Locke said, laughing. “Just in awe at all of,” he paused, motioning at the restaurant and the carnage in the street beyond, “this. The eggs benedict were great, though.”

“Well,” Max cocked the scattergun and leaned it against his broad shoulder, “that’s the Fork quality guarantee.”

Locke shook his head. “So it is.” In the street, what few mercenaries remained were either getting gunned down or trying frantically to surrender to Jayec’s crew and the enraged Fork staff. Others were running away, and for once, things seemed to be settling down. As he looked over the smoldering wreckage of the fighter and speeders in the street, he felt a faint nudge in the Force from Lidah. She'd made it back to the Eye safely. Good, Locke thought, as he heard footsteps behind him.

“Hate that all this had to happen here,” Locke said to Max as the Besalisk lumbered forward to survey the damage. “It’s a good place.”

Max waved off the concern. “Eh, we’ll rebuild. We've seen worse. Still not as bad as the Rancor incident.”

Something buzzed in Locke's pocket, and since he wasn't presently being shot at, he pulled out his comm to see a message from Moonfire. "There's smoke and shooting and an explosions from some restaurant all over the news. Is that normal here?

A second message buzzed through. Where are you???

Locke smiled in spite of himself. Not really, but I guess it happens. I'm nearby, but safe. Will keep you posted

[Jazen]

I have no home. Forte said to himself, as Lidah's orders came through loud and clear.

But the message was clear. She was safe and secure, she didn't need him shadowing her now that she had taken refugee in the heavily defended Eye. And by the sound of the battles around him, Botto's forces were being routed; indeed, before his very eyes, he watched the fighters being torn apart. The glare of the fires burning reflecting in his T-visor were all around him, although it was something he didn't pay very much attention to for very long. Instead, his attention was being diverted to the troops still assaulting the Eye. Clearly some of Botto's soldiers had been made of sterner stuff.

Or were not expected to live if they came back failures. Either way...their bodies would be cooling soon.

Determined they were and even the Eye's defenders were having to stay down to avoid the heavy barrage being unleashed on them. A barrage that suddenly stumbled, one of the captain's peering up to see why. And oh did he see it. Forte was a blade, a shining, deadly blade, cutting through the determined attackers with a speed and precision that few could match. His blasters sang, dropping soldiers with shots to the head or right through their pathetic armor. To the shock of one of the new guys, he flung one of the blasters at a man when it clicked dead...and the thing curved like a thing possessed into the man, stunning him long enough for Forte to drag the weapon from his hands and blow his head off with it.

The captain saw the chance, saw the attackers suddenly distracted by this deadly weapon between their forces. Forte put his blade through the second last one breathing, the vibroblade running red and blue and several colors of blood from the bodies it had slain. The last guy was dragging himself away...well, till he had a blade through his thigh. The man groaned and turned to see that cold visor staring at him. "Tell me...why did Botto think this would work? Was that his best shot? Tell me the truth and I'll twist this blade and make it quick. But lie to me...and I'll hand you to our special interrogators."

Less than a second later, Forte was rushing back towards the Fork. Or what was left of it. His pack hissed as he landed among Vance, Jayec...and Locke. He didn't even glance to the man, shooting one of the men on the ground still groaning before addressing Vance. "We have a problem. Someone in the Eye is a traitor. That's how they knew where she was and when to bring the heat. We need to get back and find out who. Our communications have been compromised."

He had already considered snapping a message to Lidah. But the goon had made it clear their communications had been complicated from the inside. Which meant any warning to her would likely alert the threat within. At least, through normal means. And there were two people here who could alert her through different means. He turned briefly to Jayec, nodding respectfully to the man. "Clean up the stragglers and make sure there's no more surprises." Then he turned...to Vance and Locke. "Let's go." He was already spinning before the word had finished and his pack roared to life to clear the distance to the Eye quickly.

One problem at a time. He had no doubt they would keep up; he was well aware of what they could both do.

[CaptainBonkers]

The situation outside of the Fork was beginning to calm down. The only thugs still putting up a fight were those unable to flee because of injuries or trapped by flaming wreckage. Those of them that weren't so restrained were trying to break the galactic record for one mile dash, charging towards the clearest possible exits from the area. A few more desperate ones even decided to just hop over the nearest railing and hope that they landed on something solid before they hit terminal velocity. Assuming, of course, that they knew what terminal velocity was. It was within the realm of possibility that they thought they could fly if they just believed hard enough.

By this point, there was very little reason to even try to search cover. Protected by their armor, the Mandalorians could just calmly stroll out in the open and leave scrambling for cover for the lesser warriors. Warriors...you had to use that term very loosely if you wished to apply it to their current foes. Well, at least this wouldn’t take the whole day. Small blessing and so on.

Jayec had just fired a burst of blasterfire at a fleeing trandoshan’s back when someone dressed in a Mandalorian armor dropped in from somewhere above and began barking orders. The only thing that halted the mercenary chief from directing fire at the new arrival was the fact that the jetii and the ‘generalissimo’ seemed to recognize the bloke. However, he found it odd that he had not heard of other of his people working for miss Faine. Having Mandalorians on your payroll wasn’t something you could keep in the shadows for very long unless you utilized them very sparingly. And judging from the way this fellow just seemed to assume that Jayec was his to order around he had to be someone with at least modicum of authority in the Exchange. Or then again he might just have a bad case of ori’buyce, kih’kovid. But the one thing that bugged Jayec more than anything else about the man was how the orders he had given to Jayec had come in common. A Mandalorian would have most likely given them in Mando’a. Something to look into later.

As the bloke rocketed away with his jet back Jayec scoffed. Stay here and clean up the stragglers. Like hell he would. The foe was routed here and unlikely to regroup. The level of intelligence and commitment required for such a tactically smart action was so far beyond these fuckwits that the only way they could pull it off it was if all of them ran in the same direction and by random chance stopped at the same time. To chase them would be utter waste of time, not to mention talent. Did that di’kut really think that running down fleeing idiots was the best use for a squad of Mandalorian warriors? If so, then the bloke needed some basic lessons in history. Add to that the fact that the Fork, while seemingly a nice place to fill your boots, was completely irrelevant strategically or tactically and those orders were close to being the most useless ones Jayec had ever received. Not to mention that whoever-the-hell wasn’t the one paying his retainer, miss Faine was. If she was even in slight danger, Jayec preferred to take action against that danger instead of kicking up dust in some ruined diner.

“Faral, this is Jayec, do you copy? Bring the old bird around and pick us up! We’re heading for the Eye!” Jayec barked into his comm in Mando’a. There was a curt acknowledgment from his pilot and Bes’galaar began descending towards their location. “Alright everyone! Man your stations! If there’s going to be fighting at the Eye, we’re going to go in hot and so those bumblefucks how to fight!”

As the ship set down, Jayec’s crew hurried up the cargo bay ramp. “You two are welcome to hitch a ride if you want to. Six blocks ain’t much but I recon you can make it faster flying than running!”

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

The Blind Eye kept a dedicated security team of twelve active at all times, one set for each eight hour shift. They lived on site for a two week period, then rotated home. Her chief of security, Ingrey Hertz, had taken the liberty of waking the other onsite teams – a couple dozen soldierly sorts in the house’s black-green fatigues now circulated through the lobby, coming or going. ”Excellent. Please send Thel, Forte, and my guests up for a debrief when they show. And call in your opposite number and her teams, promise them overtime if you have to.” An extra thirty-seven men to shake every proverbial tree in the district. It was just insane. Successful or not, this attack would call for a swift, merciless response. This was not an ecosystem where one could afford to look weak. Few were, to her mind. Nodding once, Lidah let Hertz get back to work and climbed the stairs, heading back to her personal quarters. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong. She had interviewed and hired all of her staff herself, knew well that they were steady under pressure. So why did she sense fear down there, with an acidic chaser of guilt? Too many minds – she couldn’t narrow it down without relying on invasive brute force. That would give up the game, though. Not to mention break the trust she had worked to establish between herself and her employees. You want me? Come and get me. Lidah shrugged out of her green jacket and dropped it carelessly on the bed. A shift in concentration started running a scalding hot bath. The Blind Eye sold privacy at an exorbitant price but she had spies aplenty, accessible to her particular talents. Serpents and small birds, mostly, idle in large bioactive enclosures. Lidah poured herself a whiskey double from her personal bar and drifted through to the bath. Her senses blended with those of her pets, scanning for anything or anyone out of place. She selected a crumbly bluish sphere from one shelf and dropped it in the water. It fizzed and filled the room with a strong scent of jasmine and citrus oil.

[Fromikeable]

Watching the Mandalorians shift from cold-blooded killing to non-nonchalant idling would have been fascinating to watch were it not for the besalisk chef that had come barging out of the now-ruined Fork, idly blowing a remaining mercenary's head off with a shotgun before making small talk. Vance took it as a good sign; if even the kitchen staff were ready to come on out, then the assault had to be well and truly over. If it wasn't, there were more of them now, and more still on the way. Hertz must have put in the call by n-

The sound of a jetpack hissing to a stop interrupted his train of thought, his saber hissing off. Squinting at the armor standing before him, Vance raised a hand to scold the man for not showing up sooner when Jazen's words rattled in his ears.

"For fuck's sake." Stomping down the flood of emotion the news brought, Vance only let out a pointing finger, his tone somewhere between irritated and alarmed. "You and I need to have a long talk about the definition of 'security' later." A blunder that big was on the both of them, without a doubt, but the fact that they'd only found out about it now, especially only after what was one of the biggest power plays in recent Nar Shadda history, was more than a bit grating.

Problems for later.

As Jayec's ship touched down, Vance was already accepting his offer, staying on the cargo ramp as its engines kicked up. Within seconds, they were already hovering above the front of the Eye, cuing the ex-Jedi to hop down and soften his landing with the Force. Banging a hand on the door, it remained silent for a moment before opening with a hiss, the defensive doors yielding to the sight of their security head, Hertz.

"She wants you guys upstai-" Vance didn't let him finish, grabbing a fistful of the man's shirt and pulling him close. He made sure to yell over the engines of the landing Mandalorian ship, ensuring everyone else present could hear him.

"Where did I leave my bath bombs, Hertz?!" The security head blinked in surprise at the rough treatment and random question, staring with offense at the taller man. As revelation overtook his expression, however, his face turned to one of grave concern.

"Technically they're bubble bars!" Instantly being released, Hertz had already forgotten the offense of being grabbed, waving them all inside. "Are you absolutely sure?!"

"He is!" Pointing over at Jazen, Vance pointed at the assembled Exchange security personnel, most of them relaxed and lounging in the casino's lobby now that the threat had passed. "Is this everybody? They all they need to pass the phrase!"

"The team we sent up to the roof still isn't back yet! Jorel, Lusha, Hamandi, and Victor, I think!" Hertz abandoned them at that point, hollering at the personnel. He could test them all himself, and judging by how relaxed the lot of them seemed, it only took a cursory glance at their presences to tell that none of them were panicking about any would-be treason going awry. No, the traitor was somewhere else in the building, and they were impersonating one of the security staff. The Eye hadn't had to hire any new security in weeks, and between the biometric checks and weekly-changing passcodes and security questions (such as the bath bomb inquiry), no impersonator could go for more than a week without blowing their cover somehow. That must have been why the Hutts had gone with this assault plan; any would-be assassin wouldn't be able to set up a proper hit with so little time.

Not against the likes of Lidah, anyway.

Turning back to Locke, Jayec, and Forte, Vance spoke quickly. "You heard him. We split up, we find those four, we ask them that question. You get any sort of different answer, and you clean their fucking clock." Waggling his comm, he started running up the stairs toward the suites before he was done talking, his presence already shooting out like a net over the Eye, hunting for the unaccounted presences.

"Call in when you find someone! Send them to Hertz if they're clean!"

[Rugs]

The stranger that landed in their midst was no stranger at all. The pitch of his voice, thought it was perhaps a bit deeper and more worldly than when last they spoke. The way he stood, even hidden beneath that armor. He didn’t even need the Force to recognize his former student. Locke smiled, even as Jazen pointedly avoiding speaking to him, while barking orders and blasting back off toward the eye.

He clicked his tongue twice with a gentle shake of his head and reached out through the Force, following Jazen’s presence in the Force to its source. It was an easier thing to do, now that they’d been close together for the first time in years. The master-student bond had weakened somewhat, but it’d take more to sever it.

”Can’t even say hello?” the words sent to Jazen’s mind were gentle, humored, even. ”I taught you better than that.

Still, there were things to be done, and if Jazen’s report of a threat in the Eye was accurate — Locke had no reason to suspect it wasn’t — they needed to be done soon.

And so a reunion would have to wait.

Locke had never ridden on a Mandalorian ship, that he could recall. But one ship was likely as good as any other, even if that ship belonged to former enemies of the Republic. But I can’t judge you too harshly, can I? the Jedi Master wondered with a glance at Jayec as the mercenary hurried up the ship’s ramp. He wasn’t the only former enemy, after all.

Strange company you keep these days, Nemsee, he thought. But maybe not for the worse.

With a final farewell — and promise to return to the ruined restaurant — Locke jogged up the ship’s ramp as it closed and burned a path through Nar Shaddaa’s crowded skies.

The return trip to the Eye was quick, and Locke was grateful for that. Without knowing what awaited within, every second counted. As they entered the Eye, Locke--freshly amused by Vance’s badgering of the security head over bath bombs--cast his senses wide over the building, searching for whatever threat lurked.

He could feel the security personnel, cautious against this unknown danger; Vance and Jayec, wary of whatever dared threaten their respective mentor and employer; and Jazen, watchful.

But where are you? he wondered of the threat. And what are you, to stand against Darth Novus? Locke knew from personal experience that such a thing was no small task.

[Jazen]

Forte watched with a semblance of annoyance when the Mando mercenary and his crew arrived at the Eye as well. He didn't need an entire force of Mando's stomping their way around, no doubt putting this would be traitor within the Eye on even higher alert than normal. And they wanted them thinking they were secure enough to try something, that was for sure. Something they could detect.

Vance was quick on the uptake at least, setting in motion a security protocol they had set up long ago. Which meant Forte quickly piggybacked on the man's words and orders. Firstly, he turned and stood his ground before Jayec, emotionless T-visor to T-visor. "Put your men outward. If you want to help inside, fine, but if your troops start pounding their way inside like there's trouble, we may alert our hidden mouse. Something we cannot allow. Perhaps set them up as if we expect another attack from outward, not inward." His tone was even, offering him a suggestion without commanding it too much...but it was clear he didn't want the man taking his own action against a perceived intruder.

Vance was easy. He simply turned to him at his earlier challenge and tilted his head. "The Eye's Security is your job, not mine. I've been home, what, twice in the last few weeks? Your the hammer at home...I'm the blade in the night." Which was true, more or less. Novus kept Vance close, while Forte often went out on his own or sent out anyway, to handle more...messy matters.

Finally, Locke. He felt that nudge in the Force and despite the gentle tone of it, a venomlike response came back. I have -nothing- to say to you. By the time the Eye's guards were already at work, Forte had vanished into the Eye, a ghost in dark armor. He was going to meet Lidah, or at least, that's what the plan was supposed to look like. After all, that had been what they'd been told, no? Go see her for debrief? So look like that was indeed the idea. All while he kept his connection to Vance, and Locke, open. Nothing suspicious on the way to her chambers...wait...something's off in the northwest....Locke, your closet to there. Check it out.

Then there was a strange feeling to the north east...south east...and Forte caught on right away. Whoever the traitor is plans to bring down the Eye. Vance, the lady. I'll handle the south if Locke handles the north." And he took off, shifting his pace to the southern parts of the building. All while the real threat was moving on Novus herself. Someone they had come to believe was on their side was going to Lidah's quarters...with a very handy bomb in hand.