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Beau

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A Bazaar, Toydaria

«This way,» he said as he surveyed the landscape before them through his rangefinder, «the auction house is straight up ahead.» He raised a hand to touch the side of his helmet, and the attached antenna straightened to withdraw the rangefinder. Besides him were two more figures in Mandalorian armor, and the crowd in the would be smuggling hole parted around them. One Mandalorian was a rare sight, three together was a terrifying one. Still, it wasn't enough.

There was a saying in Huttese, never bid against a Mandalorian, or was it never bet against a Mandalorian? He was pretty sure he had heard someone say never spit on a Mandalorian. There seemed to be variations on the saying, but the core tenet was the same, don't cross a Mandalorian. The Galaxy, it seemed, had forgot that potentially life saving piece of information, and they were there to remind one particular fool just how big of mistake that was.

The scum who had stolen the blueprints and was trying to sell it at auction was supposed to be arriving at the auction house soon, giving the trio just enough time to set up and plan things out. They could either sneak in and simply make him vanish from the face of the Galaxy, or go in guns blazing and simply tear down everything and everyone that stood in their way. Both options would serve their purposes, and while he had a slight preference for the latter, he didn't care enough to fight over it.

«Alright,» he said into the comm channel the trio shared, «you're the boss, so do we do this?» Who he was addressing was anyone's guess, that was for both of them to figure out, Beau was simply here to have a good time. And sometimes nothing was more fun than seeing two Mandalorians bicker.

@Arcangel @Painus
 

Gett'se Vizsla

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The scenery of the hunt surrounded Gett'se, after months spent on the wastes of Mandalore it was a return to the familiar. A target, and a trail to follow. He almost missed it. Now however he hunted alongside others of his kind. Others of his kin. It reminded him of the early days, hunting alongside his Buir.

They walked the streets of Toydaria, a fearsome spectacle as they hunted their quarry, three Mandalorians fully armed and armored walking with purpose. Gett'se knew well the fearful glances and greedy stares as his eyes roamed the crowd through the dark T of his visor, his helmet trained ahead, the blue and battered armored Mandalorian seeming unworried about his surroundings.

Beau's voice filtered through the comlink in Gett'se's helmet. Uncertain and uncaring of whether it was him that Beau had spoken to, Gett'se replied.

"Security will be heavy, we'll find a back door. Slice the system and lock the building down once the auction starts, locate the plans and the seller." He thought out loud. Normally this type of mission he would do nice and quiet, trying to draw as little presence to his people and himself as possible. Times were different now, the Mandalorians had a leader, had a cause... however rotten that it was. "We take what is ours back, and execute the thief at the auction as an example to the rest." He finished. They were here to send a message after all.

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Merek Vizsla

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Whenever and wherever they appear, they leave only destruction in their wake; they are the Lords of Death, Bringers of War. The Mandalorians.

That they stood out plainly among the crowd was an understatement. The trio of Mandalorians practically repulsed everyone else around them as they traveled, their minds united in singular purpose – the recovery of ancestral weaponry, and the punishment of the foolish one who thought they could sell off ancient secrets. There would be no negotiation, no bartering or pleading to remain unpunished; rather, this scum would be placed on display at its own auction, an effigy of the profaned and greedy, so that no one else would doubt the swiftness of their unyielding judgement. It was like a pack of kath hounds stalking a bleeding doe. It was a beautiful sight.

The fury that radiated from Merek was nearly palpable, even through the anonymity of his armor. It was all he could do to contain it, even as passers-by remarked in strange and alien tongues about the grim sight of the three executioners. A threatening buck here, a grunt there, and those in their way were cast aside to make way as they weaved through the throng of prospective customers. His boots thudded flatly in the muck of the street, though any noise from them was drowned out by the din of the mass of people.

Beau prompted them to speak, but it was Gett’se who answered first. A sound plan, and one that would ensure the crowd would see the punishment; it was what he would have suggested, and so he saw little fault in it. He had but few words to add to the end of the plan, but he found them pertinent.

”It will be more than an execution. It will be a warning.”

His voice was like rough sandpaper, strained and hoarse from years of shouting over high winds and the spear-din of battle. With a grim chuckle, he flexed his hands and rolled his neck, eyes warily darting around the area. The crowd was thick, and security was intermingled with them all. For all they repulsed, however, myriad other armored and alien beings mixed and pressed in the throng around them, concealing their predatory intent from all but the most observant or curious. Though they traveled as one, he began to veer towards the backside of the building, using larger beings to provide cover from any vigilant sentries. Toydaria was a rotten planet, but he was sure security would be substantial enough to demand order of the prospective bidders.

”There are guards posted at all the entrances,” he observed and relayed over their internal comms net. Indeed, at the side doors, and likely any rear entrance, he could see at least one or two thuggish guards standing around like gargoyles, weapons in hand. He doubted the skill of the guards, but they outnumbered the Mandalorians, and to tip their hand so early would see the target auctioneer safely retreating from them. They needed to do this intelligently, else such a prized piece of war-machinery would be lost to them forever.

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Beau

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«Oya,» he replied to Gett'se's plan and Merek's addendum, «example it is!»

As they made way closer to the auction house, Beau was keeping an eye for any surprises, letting his eyes wander and letting his instincts guide him. Merek's warning over the comms made him pause for a moment and he looked around for a few seconds before spotting something that would be just right for what he had in mind. «I guess we need a distraction.»

With the he peeled away from his two companions, and made his way over to a taxi-speeder parked nearby. They would not hear the words that were exchanged with the Toydarian who owned the speeder, but he seemed to refuse whatever Beau was waking of him. Beau leaned in close, and more words were changed, and the Toydarian was suddenly nodding in agreement. Beau passed him some credcoins, and turned to walk back towards them, and the speeder sped off away from them.

«That should do it.» He said as he sauntered back to Gett'se and Merek, and as if on cue the loud whine of a speeder appeared nearby, and the others would see the same speeder racing back towards them, towards the auction house. It flew past them and swerved at the last moment to crash into another speeder a dozen or so meters from the auction house. Suddenly all eyes were on the crash. Three mandalorians might be a rare sight, but even that could not compare to the morbid curiosity that would draw everyone to the crash.

«Side entrance?» He asked as he started moving, a crowd beginning to gather around the crash, and even the guards taking a few steps away from the entrance to get a better look at what had happened.

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Gett'se Vizsla

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Gett'se waited while the Kryze warrior discussed something with a toydarian cab driver. He wondered what sort of distraction the warrior had planned. He didn't have to wait long as Beau rejoined the group and they continued towards the auction house. Their arrival was marked by a convenient taxi cab crash in front of the building, allowing for them to easily slip into the alley behind the building unseen.

Coming around the bend, Gett'se found himself face to face with a Nikto guard, likely one of the rear door guards that had come to find out what the commotion up front was all about. Normally Gett'se would try to avoid killing the man, to break as few laws as possible while on the hunt. When he was hunting for the law and for credits. Now he hunted for Mandalore.

His left hand smashed into the side of the Nikto's head with an open palm, grabbing ahold of the aliens face and driving his head into the wall. His vibroknife came out of its sheath on his left breastplate and across to slice the man's throat as he dumped the dazed and then dying Nikto to the ground. Behind the alien, another of its kind looked over in alarm just as Gett'se's arm came around to fling the vibroblade to lodge directly in the guards chest, rapidly buzzing blade piercing through flesh and bone to nail the heart underneath.

Gett'se continued forwards to the door, removing the blade from the guards chest as he slumped against the wall, giving it a quick wipe on the dead aliens tunic as he turned to the door panel next to the door, standing clear of the entryway itself. A secure model with a nondescript plate covering the internals that he required access to, Gett'se jammed the tip of his blade into the top of the panel and gave it a shove, prying the panel open quickly and efficiently. Knife sheathed, Gett'se pulled a security spike out of a pouch on his belt and attached it to the port underneath, which whirred and clicked for a moment. He turned to his Vizsla brother and spoke just before the security spike gave its final ratcheting click and the door began to slide open. "You're up vod."

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Merek Vizsla

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To be united as a singular organism in battle was a beautiful thing. When one had fought alongside their brothers and sisters of the creed for long enough, an unspoken bond was formed, allowing for synchronized and fluid action economy without a word spoken. A fist could not strike without each finger working perfectly in tandem, and a pack of hunters could not operate without total trust and unity.

This fist that they formed today was a novice’s – uncertain, untrained, but something with untapped potential. When Beau wandered off, Merek shared naught but a wordless, bemused glance with Gett’se, his expression hidden only by the helmet. Beau’s return prompted a question, but the wail of a speeder’s engine silenced the Vizsla man. His helmeted head sharply turned to track the incoming vehicle just in time to watch it scream and slam into another speeder. The resounding kr-thrunk of the vehicle-on-vehicle collision drew the immediate attention of the crowd, providing the hunters the opening they desired.

With eyes off them, they could move unimpeded to the auction house. Merek chuckled deeply, at once sliding his blaster out of its holster with one hand and drawing his beskad with the other. As they rounded the corner and came face-to-face with a foe, Gett’se sprung into action. He laid waste to them with devastating efficiency, then set about slicing into the building, during which time Merek provided him with security, sweeping his blaster this-way and that, eyes peeled for lurking threats. ”Resourceful, vod,” he remarked idly, offering silent praise to the Destroyer for granting Gett’se the know-how to slice.

There was a heartbeat’s moment that passed between the quiet hiss of the door sliding open and Merek raising his blaster to clear the opening. Moments like these always animated him; they forced his heart to pump faster as the adrenaline kicked in, focusing his mind to a razor’s edge for nothing else but glorious conflict. Unfortunately, there was nobody on the other side that necessitated immediately revealing their infiltration, but it did not mean the coast was clear. He entered the building swiftly, again sweeping his blast across the hallway as he checked for threats. Now that they were in, they needed to find a means of locking the place down, and that meant checking for security rooms.

With the butt of his gun-hand, he keyed the activation pad for a nearby door. As the door slid open, he pushed forward into the room, beskad point-first, and bumped into an unshaven, gaunt-faced human. There was a brief hesitation from the man as he tried to register what had just rammed into him, but any doubt was quickly erased as Merek slid the beskad lengthwise along his stomach, rending it open like a man might cut open a sack of flour.

A swift headbutt sent the man reeling back and onto the ground with a sickening crunch, and a follow-up boot to the temple sent him to the void without a second thought. Merek’s eyes scanned the room and discovered—

A janitor’s closet.

He shook his head and stepped back out. ”No luck in there. Let’s check the rest of the rooms.”

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Beau

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As Merek lead the way into the building, Beau pulled out his DL-44 in his left hand, and followed in after him, giving an approving nod to Gett'se as he stepped past him. That trick with the console was a useful on, and much more useful than whatever alternative he would have had to think of if he were on his own. He had only ever worked jobs with his brother, but he was beginning to think that he might get used to working side by side with other vod.

As Merek dealt with the janitor, Beau slipped past the open door to the janitor's closet and continued moving further down the corridor, till he rounded the corner and came face to face with a brute of a man standing in front of a door. The guard turned towards him, and Beau reacted a smidge faster, slamming straight into the guard before he could draw his weapon. They went crashing to the ground, Beau on top of the guard who crashed ass first to the floor. As he fell he reached forward with his right hand, looking for all intents like someone about to grab the guard's face. But a the last moment a blade emerged from his gauntlet, and slammed into the guard's neck.

As the guard gurgled to death, Beau looked up to see the sign next to the door the guard was guarding, the security room. But in looking up he also noticed a second guard, a tiny Toydarian who had been hidden from his view behind the human's form. Having seen the mandalorian come flying around the corner and kill his friend, he was obviously in shock. But as Beau pulled the blade out of the dead guard's neck he finally took action, and a blaster started to rise in his hand, about to take a shot at the distracted warrior.

«Easy now,» was all Beau managed to say, before the sounds of boots behind him brought a smile to his lips and he suddenly jumped to the side, leaving the Toydarian straight in the sights of anyone crossing the corner behind him.


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Gett'se Vizsla

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Gett'se entered the building behind his comrades, drawing his blaster and vibroblade and holding them at the ready, clearing empty rooms and sweeping corridors as they walked. Gett'se gave an approving nod to Merek as he swiftly dispatched what appeared to be a janitor. Regretful that the man's simple life had to end for their cause and in another time Gett'se might have grieved more, but not now, not in this time of rising glory for their people.

Gett'se followed Beau past where Merek examined the room he had entered and they moved in tandem through the hallway with Gett'se turning the corner just after Beau charged out of his sight. The sight of the scuffle on the floor past the security room doorway was an amusing one, but ultimately less important than the other guard, a Toydarian that fluttered in the air staring mouth agape at the spectacle on the floor next to him.

Gett'se rushed while the alien was distracted, his vibroblade sliding easily across the blue creatures throat. The guard's wings fluttered and stopped before he thumped to the floor, dead. They needed to act fast now, no doubt the security room guards heard the commotion, or spotted it on the camera. The time for stealth was coming to an end with their first objective at hand. Tapping the door console with the butt of his knife, Gett'se entered the security room as the door entered.

His eyes flicked across the room as he stepped in and then to the left, clearing the entryway for his fellow vod to have clear sightlines into the room. Five guards where in various stages of alarm, two turning to look at the open door, two pulling blasters, one reaching for a button on the security console.

He was the first to die. Gett'se aimed at him and pulled the trigger, scarlet bolt putting an end to the security alarm before it could even start ringing. Shifting his aim he shot the second as the man lines his blaster on Gett'se, but he could see the third lining his blaster on him as well, too far for him to shift and fire a third time.

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Merek Vizsla

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Continuing the hunt, Merek followed his kindred down the hallways of the auction house. A muted murmur was growing beyond the walls as the crowd began to filter in, eager to begin bidding on the displayed goods. He was thankful for the ambient noise; just as it was outside, the noise muffled their actions from the public. Those in the vicinity would hear, of course, but they needed the surprise to be held just long enough to send their message to the galaxy.

His boots thumped dully on the floor as they hastened along the corridors, beads of blood oozing from the edge of his beskad like a slavering hound’s drool. He felt nothing with the kill, for the man was hardly a foe. It was pure, unfortunate happenstance that he ran into the janitor, but they could hardly afford allowing even innocents to alert others to their presence, so critical was their mission.

Rounding the corner after both Beau and Gett’se allowed him to be greeted by the sight of two guards falling to their eager blades and provided him with an easy avenue of approach to the security room. Gett’se breached it first, sending two bolts streaking through unfortunate marks. Like the hand forming a fist, they began to act in tandem. Merek’s blaster rose swiftly, targeting the foe bringing his own firearm to bear on his brother Vizsla.

A gentle application of pressure was all it took, and his blaster barked. His blaster bucked slightly, braced with a practiced grip, and a small hole was seared into the thug’s chest. He’d hit the lungs he was pretty sure, given the way the man collapsed and began choking on superheated air, but that was no longer Merek’s concern. Once upon a time, he believed this to be a sorcery of unfathomable power. To kill a man with but a single, thin line of plasma from afar was arcane when he was but a Windreaver whelp who knew little else but spears and bows, but now he knew better. It was ordinary thing to kill a man this way. An everyday occurrence, even, in this cruel, merciless galaxy. He was just doing his part in keeping the natural order.

A second rushed him head-on, waving a humming blade overhead. With enough force to crack stone, Merek gave a backhanded slash with his beskad, cleaving the man’s arm off at the elbow like it was gelatin. His own cry of agony was drowned out by the follow-on bolts to the torso, cycled into him with professional and callous indifference. The body toppled over, a steady stream of blood hissing out with the man's death-twitches.

The last guard, positioned on the far end of the room, clumsily began to bring her rifle to bear on them, letting loose a panicked bolt that went high and right, searing the wall and hitting no-one. She readjusted her aim and began to level the weapon at Merek’s backside, ready to put the invader down.

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Beau

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Beau chuckled as Gett'se dealt with the Toydarian, the threat against his life and the rush of taking a life awaken the thrill of battle within him. He tried not to think about the thrill once it passed, when it took hold he felt almost unstoppable, but he also became more reckless, more brutal, but when he was in the grip of the thrill he never wanted to let go.

Jumping to his feet, he rushed into the room after Gett'se and Merek, though in the time it took him to rise and enter they had managed to take out all but one of the guards. Beau saw her take fire, and rolled out of the way, coming to stop on a knee and seeing her take aim at Merek. He reacted immediately, shooting the grappling hook attached to his blaster, the hooked end burying itself in her chest. She looked down at her pierced chest, any intention of taking a second shot forgotten, and looked up just as Beau unclipped the cable from his blaster and charged towards her, yanking on the cable as he moved.

The woman came stumbling forward, and the blade protruding from Beau's right gauntlet swung once more as their paths converged. The blade, meant for stabbing instead of slashing, got stuck in her neck and snapped clean off his gauntlet, and the life had already left her by the time she hit the floor.

Adrenaline surging through his body, he looked around almost longingly, feeling a sense of disappointment on finding only dead bodies around them. «That's it?» He muttered almost to himself as he holstered his blaster and started pulling out the ruined blade from his gauntlet.

«You know, for a guy who had the balls to steal from us, this guy sure didn't take his security seriously. Pity.»

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Gett'se Vizsla

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Death was not coming for him today it seemed. The Manda would have to wait. A bolt from Merek's blaster blew a smoldering hole in the man's chest, leaving him gasping briefly before slipping to the ground. Merek and Beau took out the two remaining guards with ease, leaving Gett'se free to rush over to the security console where the first guard lay slumped, his hand halfway to the alarm. Dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground, Gett'se assumed his seat with practiced ease, pulling his port scanner from its protective belt pouch and running a cable from it to the computer.

The firewall on the security computer was better than that of the door earlier, necessitating a finer touch... or brute force. Gett'se was a decent enough slicer, but he was no code wizard. Instead he inserted a chip into the port scanner that began to run a prewritten algorithm, slamming thousands of passwords at the security console a second. It wouldn't be long now before he had complete access to all of the buildings security systems.

"The galaxy has grown complacent, it has forgotten to fear us." He spoke through the cutting adrenaline that always surged during and after a fight, the proximity to violence making his words cold. He considered himself a man of honor, and even occasionally compassion. But he was also a man of action and brutal violence when necessary. It would be necessary much in the battles to come.

Glancing up at the security monitor, his eyes scanned first the auction floor where various moneyed interests still gathered, seemingly completely unaware of the violence that had happened here. So far so good. His eyes flicked to the hallways monitor where he could see the two corpses they had left behind... and at the end of the hallway more bodies rushing the hallway as more men barreled towards the security room. So someone had heard their commotion. "Incoming."

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Merek Vizsla

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Merek’s life was saved by the timely arrival of his comrade, and praise be to the Destroyer for it. Beau’s brutal and swift execution of the final guard quieted things for a fleeting moment, but any trained hunter would know the commotion they had caused would not go totally unnoticed. While Gett’se went to work on the arcane science of code-cracking, it would be up to the two brothers of distant clans to provide security. Fortunately, they were in a secured area, and any opposition would have to enter the same body-filled corridor that was now under Mandalorian overwatch.

”Then let us show them what terror is,” he growled quietly, his voice like gravel being ground into dust, ”You just get this place sealed.”. As if to underline his message, the choking thug gasped pitifully, letting out one final death wheeze before falling limp. Merek braced himself on one side of the door, fingers rolling along the grip of his pistol to readjust his hold on the weapon. His heart pounded in his ears, hot blood pumping through his veins as adrenaline surged through his body like electricity. He lived for moments like these, moments where it was a true test of a warrior’s resolve. In the days, weeks, and months to come, the resolve of the men and women of Mandalore would endure numerous trials, and scant few but the strongest would not only survive but thrive in the chaos.

He would ensure clan Vizsla would be remembered for its brutal tenacity.

With a wordless glance to Beau, Merek would duck low in the doorway, allowing the other man to remain standing so that the two could fire unimpeded. The first of the reinforcements came charging ahead, blasters held at the ready. The Vizsla warrior left the safety of cover and squeezed the trigger of his blaster with practiced ease, letting loose two bolts that struck home and dropped the closest foe. The first bolt burned into his pelvis, forcing the man to buckle under his own weight with a yelp, while the second, aimed for the same spot, drove home and hit squarely in the torso.

He ducked back into cover at the return fire from the man’s comrades. They had a few more to get through, but they weren’t going to give an inch of ground to them. This mission was far greater than the lives of ordinary mercenaries.

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Beau

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Beau couldn't help but agree with Gett'se's words, the Galaxy had become complacent. But they had not changed, maybe scattered and spread too far and thin, but their might undimmed since the days of the their ancient glory. It would not take long for them to remind the Galaxy what they had forgotten, and then, then they might just face a fight they deserved.

For now they would have to make do with what was put before them. Following Merek to the door, he took a shot at another guard as Merek took the first shot. Letting out a few blind shots to keep the guards from getting any idea, he ducked back through the doorway to take cover. Thinking fast, he reached up to his helmet and clicked a button at the base of the antenna to bring the rangefinder swiveling down, switching on his thermal filter.

«Switch to thermals vod, smoking them out.» He sent the message over the comms as he pulled a some grenade form his belt, armed it, and tossed it down the corridor in the direction of the guards. Drawing his second blaster, he gave Merek a nod before counting down to three and stepping out into the smoke covered hallway. «Good hunting!» Spotting the glowing outlines of the guards through the haze enveloping the hallway began shooting. Two shots fired off in quick succession from his blasters, and two guards toppled to the floor before they could realize what was happening.

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Gett'se Vizsla

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"Affirmative." Gett'se nodded as Merek told him to focus on getting the building locked down. He was trusting the man with his life, and was glad he had a fellow Vizsla by his side to handle that trust. The signal trace continued to run its password program to gain full access to the building's security protocols, but in the meantime he did what he could do with the computer system at hand, as unfamiliar as he was with the system.

His hand glided over the console, searching for something useful as the sound of blaster fire echoed through the room behind him. It didn't take him long to find the building's communication system, which lit with chatter from the various security details inside the building. With the flip of a few switches, what was once tactical chatter discussing their whereabouts was overcome by a screeching static, effectively jamming the securities comlinks.

The Signal Tracer pinged, and Gett'se immediately turned his attention back to it. Data logs scrolled across its screen as it gained access to the buildings security, displaying it all in easily searched and interpreted raw code. With a few button taps, the outer blast doors of the building all sealed shut, effectively cutting the building off from the rest of the world. Disabling the alarm that triggered to call the local authorities, Gett'se was then quick to change the password and with another data chip from his belt added a quick encryption protocol to the systems security to lockout any unwanted digital interlopers.

"We're in, nobody leaves this building unless we let them now..." He spoke over his helmet com, his words fading into a mumble as he concentrated on the small screen in his hands, now searching for the location of the goods to be auctioned off. Tapping down through the security records, he found what he was looking for. A vault in the back of the building with a long hallway that led between it and the auction hall itself. Several conference rooms lined the hallway, which he locked down for good measure, the panic of those who dwelled in them confirmed on the security monitor as he watched them react to the sudden closing and locking of doors. After a few spare moments of examining the panicked occupants, he was pretty sure he had found their guy, and memorized the room he was in.

Pulling a small signal booster fob from his belt, he inserted it into the security console before ripping the cables connecting his slicing tool to the console free and stowing the device. The fob would let him maintain connection to the monitor now that he had gained physical access, boosting how far his signal tracer could connect with the console. "I've located the objective. Its in a vault behind the auction hall, the mark is locked down in a conference room nearby. Lets move." He said as he grabbed his blaster off the console, taking one look out the doorway into the smoke filled hallway before slamming his fist on the light board of the console, plunging the building into darkness.

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Merek Vizsla

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Another series of screeching bolts barked out from his blaster, suppressing the incoming guards alongside Beau. Their foes responded in kind with suppressive fire of their own, searing the edges of the doorway and tagging the inside of the security room with rogue bolts. Merek turned his attention over to Beau at the order to switch vision modes and gave an affirmative nod, reaching up to switch to infrared. Immediately his world was plunged into shades of blues, greens, and reds, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the shift in color.

The soft pop-ksh of the smoke grenade blowing and beginning to fill the corridor with a thick, obscuring cloud was all the signal he needed for what they would be doing next. This was no longer defending a room, nor sweeping a building; this was hunting, sowing terror. Darkness surrounded them as Gett’se killed the lights, turning what was already a laughably one-sided fight into something truly comical. The sudden yelps of surprise and fear from the hired thugs were all he needed to let him know it was time to show them why the Mandalorians were to be feared.

Merek let out a wild, harsh laugh as he rose, holstering his blaster pistol. He gripped the beskad in his right hand now, giving it a little twirl. Beau was already out and gunning men down, but Merek slipped back into his more natural state, remembering his roots as a reaver on Weik. Still laughing, he surged out of the doorway and into the darkness, eyes darting around frantically as he looked for a heat signature to lock onto.

His eyes spied an arm extending past the edge of a doorway in which a guard was cowering, fumbling for a light. The laughing died down, leaving only the sounds of Beau’s shooting and the panicked shouts of the guards as they tried to rally to their employer’s defense. The entire facility was sealed, however, and there would be no escape as long as these terrors stalked the halls. Quickly, quickly, the guard flicked his light on, letting out a frustrated grunt as it only further exacerbated the poor visual conditions with illuminating the cloud of smoke.

The guard turned out of the doorway to take some potshots at the Mandalorians, but something had caught his rifle. He gave a tug, and then it tugged back, yanking him clear of the safety of cover. His light beamed up, granting him a cursory flash of the helmeted demon that gripped his weapon before the marauder hacked downward with his beskad.

Merek swung once, cleaving deep into the man’s collar bone. The man’s shriek of pain drowned out his own manic grunt as he pulled the weapon free, spilling out shards of bone, blood, and chunks of meaty gristle. He hacked downward again, and again, and again, driving deeper and deeper each time while the man howled in blood-curdling agony into the cloudy darkness. Merek had no sympathy for someone who faced death in such a cowardly manner, and so he simply dropped the man’s body, letting jets of blood spray out as he writhed along the ground.

The Vizsla hunter stalked to his next prey, shouting out challenges in his native tongue, knowing none here would answer the foreign call. He could feel the resolve of the mercenaries waning rapidly as they were dispatched with brutal efficiency, but it was not enough. He longed to see them utterly crushed and to turn this auction den into a charnel house of the unworthy.

This was the message they were going to send to the galaxy on the price of theft.

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Beau

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A smile tugged at Beau's lips as the lights went out, he almost felt bad about the situation. Almost. Seeing Merek's laughing figure charge into the smoking darkness did almost do it, but not quite. The thieving scum deserved what was coming their way.

Sticking with his blasters as Merek charged with his beskad, Beau followed after him at a more deliberate pace, picking off a guard that raised a rifle in their general direction, likely hoping to fire blindly in the hopes of hitting someone. He never got the chance, as a couple of shots from Beau burned through his chest and sent him to the floor. As Merek charged ahead, calling out challenges, Beau stalked silently after him, and somehow they fell into a rhythm that neither had planned. With sight lost to them the guards had to rely on sound, and Vizsla drew their attention, which allowed Beau to pick them off from afar, letting Merek have his fun but keeping him from ever getting overwhelmed.

It wasn't long before they were joined by Gett'se as well, and the trio started moving towards the auction hall. It was a short walk, even with them being careful about traps or enemies jumping out at them. As they reached another corner, Beau peeked around another corner he spotted what was likely the vault they were looking for, what with about half a dozen guards stationed outside.

«Six,» he shared the intel with his companions, «one heavy repeater, the rest with run of the mill peashooters.» Reconnaissance done, he pulled his head back from around the corner, and waited for suggestions or options.

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Gett'se Vizsla

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Gett'se followed the pair of Mandalorians as they lead the way, Merek taking point with an utter brutality as he ripped and tore his way through whoever opposed them with the wicked edge of his Beskad. Beau followed like a ghost, his blaster picking off the few that Merek didn't slaughter with his blade.

Gett'se was content to follow, holstering his blaster as the pair in front of him lay into the enemy with violence that would leave quite the message for whoever had to clean this mess up. Faint warm sprays and puddles of blood covered the walls and floors, still warm and glowing in the thermal vision. Gett'se could follow Merek's trail by the swiftly cooling bootprints that left red stains where he tread.

The group came to a halt as Beau cleared the corner, informing them of what lay ahead. Gett'se walked past him into the opening and raised his left gauntlet, pressing a button on it with his right hand as he cleared the corner. The guards at the end of the hallway must have found themselves some thermal visors, because they reacted to his presence right away, but not quick enough. The wrist rocket sparked and hissed as it zipped down the corridor, slamming into the ground at the base of the repeater and exploding into a hail of shrapnel that sent the guards falling to the ground, either dead or for cover.

Not waiting to find out which was which, Gett'se's right hand flashed to the pistol at his hip, slipping it free from its holster in a much practiced twist draw that had kept him alive for decades bounty hunting in the Outer Rim. He put a bolt into each of the man shaped thermal blobs down the hall, starting with the ones that moved but making certain each of the men got what was coming to them. Continuing down the hallway, he fired one last blast as one of the men tried once more to rise. The hallway went silent.

"Third door on the right, the mark is in there. We need him alive." Gett'se spoke softly through his helmet com as he pulled the security spike from his belt and tossed it to Beau. He continued walking the hallway down to the vault, stopping in front of it as he switched off his thermal vision and activated a helmet light. He examined the vault, searching for weaknesses in the frame. Walking up to it, ignoring the bodies that lay scattered on the ground, he felt along its frame where it joined into the walls before shaking his head. Amateurs.

He swiftly set about climbing up the face of the vault, plastering a breaching charge to where the vault door met the wall before joining with the ceiling. Jumping back down, he planted two more breaching charges, one on the wall to each side of the vault. The idiots had built the vault into the wall instead of encompassing the whole wall with it. Stepping back out of the blast zone, what little that would be there with the shaped charged, Gett'se pulled a detonator that was linked to the charges and pressed the red button.

Thwump. Thwump. Thwump. The charges went of, blasting the wall around the vault door and blowing holes clear through. Gett'se watched as the vault door stood immovable. He looked at the detonator, then at the vault again before walking back over to it. He was sure his calculations had been right. Placing a hand on the vault door, he jumped back suddenly as it began to move at his touch, and it fell inwards with a mighty THUD that rattled him.

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Merek Vizsla

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Where Beau was a silent professional following behind and safekeeping him from unseen threats, Merek strode forth into the carnage with a reaver’s ferocity, howling and growling to show to these whelps how utterly inhuman the Mandalorians were. Their ancestors were the things of legends and myths, monsters and bogeymen that plagued the galaxy time and time again, plundering and pillaging until they withdrew until a new force championed their cause. It was a vicious cycle of rise-and-fall, and they were growing to be on the rise once more. Gett’se was right; the galaxy had forgotten, and this was the time to remind it that they were called demons for a reason.

He continued to prowl down the hall, cleaving and hewing any who made their presence known. In his wake, mercenaries lie in various states of dismemberment and disembowelment. Beau kept the hidden dangers away, for which he was thankful. Echoes of memory always flitted in and out when he participated in such carnage, always bringing him back to the night on Weik he had died and been reborn as Merek Vizsla. He fought not only for Mandalore, but for his clan’s legacy, and every drop of blood spilled was a tithe to Kad Ha’rangir; violence was an act of devotion.

They arrived at their destination, but the garrison at the end of the hall kept them from advancing further. Merek wasn’t about to go rushing headlong into a volley of fire, but, Kad be praised, Gett’se had a better solution. With a sickening crack-thump, his rocket exploded, and the man dispatched the disoriented survivors in short order. The Weiker let out a rough chuckle as he stepped over the charred bodies, watching Gett’se set about cracking the vault, maintaining a safe distance from the breaching charges.

As they detonated and the door fell inward, Merek stepped forth, glancing around the vault. All things considered, it was small and unimpressive. Lined with various baubles and trinkets for display, the vault was little more than a secure closet for the auction house. He gave a grunt of dissatisfaction, then stepped back out, gesturing with his beskad to Gett’se. ”Grab what we need, brother. The Kryze and I will drag this whelp to his waiting audience,” he said to the man, ”For the glory of Mandalore.”

If they were to put on a show of terror, then they needed the thief to be truly terrified before his execution. While Beau got to work on opening the door, Merek began dragging and arranging bodies in semi-neat rows along the hallway, pausing occasionally to crudely paint the iconic skull emblem of the Mandalorians on the walls in the blood of the fallen. He would be dragged down this corridor of death, as if they were the boatmen delivering souls to the afterlife. There would be no doubt in their minds who was responsible for this slaughter – of that, these three would guarantee.

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Beau raised an eyebrow as Gett'se stepped forward, and watched as he wiped out the guards. Behind his mask his mouth bent in approval, and he nodded to himself in respect.

Stepping out into the now lifeless corridor, Beau grabbed the spike that Gett'se tossed towards him, and started moving towards the door he had mentioned. He worked on the door, and just as the door started opening he heard the thump thump thump of the charges going off. Beau though kept his attention on the opening door. The door was barely half-way open when a Toydarian came flying out, maybe trying to catch his would be assailants by surprise and slipping out. Mandalorians weren't that easily surprised, and an arm shot out to catch the Toydarian by a wing and yank him back. As he cursed and beat about, trying his best to get out of Beau's grasp, the Mandalorian started getting irritated by the little thing.

«By Mandalore's stinking balls,» he muttered as he grabbed the fellow by both hands and just slammed his head into his face, breaking his nose, «will you just settle down?»

With that matter dealt with, he turned to see how the others were doing, the partially dazed and significantly more subdued Toydarian dangling at his side by the wing that he held in an iron grip. It seemed the Toydarian managed to spot the decorations that Merek had added to the hallway at the same time as Beau, for a oddly infantile whimper escaped from his side, and Beau looked down as he noticed an odd smell join the odors of death and destruction that filled the corridor as he walked past the bodies.

He started laughing as he realized what had happened, and made a mental note to add a filtration attachment to his armor. As he turned towards the exit marked as the auction hall entrance he finally stopped laughing. «Poor bugger shat himself, talk about a crappy host.»

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Gett'se Vizsla

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Gett'se stepped into the vault besides Merek, his eyes scanning for their quarry. "For the glory of Mandalore." He repeated to the man as he left. Luckily, the safety boxes were all neatly labelled, and it didn't take him but a moment to find one named "Basil Bluepints". Either someone had been drunk when they labelled it, or it was some sort of joke or code. Either way, he was pretty certain he had found what he was looking for.

A blaster bolt to the locking mechanism and a pry with his beskad was all it took to get the flimsy security box open, revealing a very old data module within. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the other two Mandalorians making their way down the hallway to the auction stage. Tonights entertainment was about to begin. He pulled out his signal tracer and reactivated the lights on the main stage of the auction hall, preparing their grand entrance. "Your stage is set." He spoke over his helmet com before muting his communication line and turning his focus to the task at hand.

"For the glory of Mandalore." He whispered to himself once again as he pulled the cable from the signal tracer and plugged it into the data module's port. A data chip inserted into the slicing device and the tap of a few keys. The module was encrypted but that didn't matter. He didn't need to break the encryption, not now. Not with a device this old. Not for his intentions.

A progress bar appeared on the screen of the slicing rig, which was quickly minimized to the corner as he watched the hallway and stage cameras through his screen. Watched Beau drag the thief to the entrance of the auction hall, and Merek join him. He would watch their execution from the vault as he finished his work. For the glory of Mandalore. For the glory of House Vizsla.

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