Open Nar Shaddaa One Fell Swoop Bar

[Neeka Wren]

It was once, as far as watering holes went, a decent little place.


Which was a blatant lie that Neeka liked to tell herself to make herself feel better as she stepped through the open threshold once more to One Fell Swoop. It was just the sort of wreck that made a person feel deceptively safe with its frequent patches of darkness that one could hide in, yet more often than not these patches were already occupied by scowling faces, sinewy arms, and hair-trigger blasters. The drinks were definitely watered down. The food she hadn't even dared to come close to. Holograms of simulated Twi'lek dancers gyrated on endless loops at both ends of the dingy cantina. Really- It was a hovel, without a doubt.


Yet the Swoop had been uniquely useful to the young urchin-turned-Mandalorian while growing up on Nar Shaddaa, for it was a favorite of the local swoop bikers and was rather close to her father’s home. For her, it had been the place to be in order to hear the wild tales of drunk spacers or challenge someone to a spontaneous race. For her, it had been more home than home. Neeka passed a few custom rides as she saddled her way in, rolling her eyes again like so often before at the extravagance that they displayed as though they were creatures trying to attract mates. Too many prioritize look over efficiency, she thought. Probably was the only reason why I won anything in the first place.

She gave a brief nod to the man himself as she sat down upon a dirty stool and the gruff, bearded bartender gave one in return with a lingering stare. Mandalorians were still a notable sight upon the moon and Neeka Wren was keenly aware of how many eyes had been on her since her arrival. The man was pouring something stiff for a pair of scarred Trandoshans that looked real dangerous and temperamental and she sat far away from those two.

”Urrqal.” Her voice was a tight roll of very slight comm-muffling through the mask and sounded odd to her own ears in the familiar setting. Still…it would be better to keep it on. Even when the drink eventually ended up before her she only lifted the helm enough to sip it.


Who knew what enemies she still had upon the Smuggler’s Moon, after all?

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ's existence had begun several rotations ago on the Smuggler's Moon of Nar Shaddaa. It had been powered up in the presence of an organic. The organic attempted to imprint on D3-EZ as it's owner, but several error's in the droid's code had prevented the attempt from succeeding. D3-EZ's programming classified the organic as a captor and attempted to carry out it's failsafe protocol, unsuccessfully. It had been left with only one option to prevent immediate capture by the organic.

Since, the droid had let itself loose on the unsuspecting populace of Nar Shaddaa. D3-EZ quickly learned that credits were the primary form of currency in the galaxy, though there were various other forms that could be tendered for goods and services. Power cost credits. Weapons cost credits. Ammunition cost credits. Starships cost credits. Fuel cost credits. All things were acquired through the trade of variable sums of credits. A logical conclusion was made that the acquisition of credits equaled survival.

D3-EZ had since accepted several jobs across the surface of the Smuggler's moon. It's initial armament by it's captor was considered acceptable, so replacement weaponry was not a necessity. The cost of power and blaster gas was the primary concern of the droid. Transportation was a secondary concern, the knowledge that more worlds that possessed more obtainable credits necessitated a hyperdrive capable starship. Hyperdrive capable starships cost credits.

D3-EZ's photoreceptors scanned the entrance to the bar. One Fell Swoop. Information gathered indicated this building as the last known location of Target 1 and Target 2 on the droid's list. D3-EZ stepped into the bar.

Initiate function: Area scan.

D3-EZ's photoreceptors scanned the dimly lit bar, unbothered by the low light levels. It scanned all the organics in the room, left to right, starting with an armed and armored humanoid.

Subject Identify: Humanoid, armed, armored
Subject designation: Armed Humanoid
Subject status: Live
Threat level: High
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Irrelevant
Initiate function: Observe

Subject Identify: Human, bartender
Subject designation: Bartender
Subject status: Live
Threat level: Low
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Irrelevant
Initiate function: Ignore

Subject Identify: Trandoshan, armed... Gareshk Morn
Subject designation: Target 1
Subject status: Live
Threat level: Medium
Requisite level: 5000 cr
Optimal status: Dead
Initiate function: Eliminate

Subject Identify: Trandoshan, armed... Barnak Morn
Subject designation: Target 2
Subject status: Live
Threat level: Medium
Requisite level: 5000 cr
Optimal status: Dead
Initiate function: Eliminate

D3-EZ's faceplate lit up, a face symbol appearing in the pixelated screen.



The droid began to approach the bar, it's stiff legged walk quiet for it's metallic form.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

The clink of metal on cheap flooring barely registered with the young Mandalorian, who noted only that someone else had entered the dingy cantina. Her mind immediately conjured visions of shabby-looking transients upon reflex and promptly filed them away as inconsequential. She simply continued drinking and thinking and thinking and drinking, mostly to avoid doing what she came here to do. Until she noticed the barkeep's expression.

Neeka had always prided herself on being insightful and empathetic for someone raised in a place like Nar Shaddaa, though since her humbling at the hands of what was now her clan she had begun to doubt all that she thought she was good at. The bartender's face, for example, was a puzzling mixture of various emotions that confounded Neeka to the point of openly staring at him. Strangely, he didn't seem to notice the probably-rude gawking and instead his attention seemed to be fixated on something over her shoulder; probably the newest patron that had just walked in.



Indeed, even the aliens she shared the bar with seemed to be looking at whomever had entered. That probably warranted a look from her as well, she figured, then swiveled upon the stool so she wouldn't have to turn her head at too sharp an angle to spot them.

Instantly the Mandalorian was caught up in a similar trance while the figure before her processed in her brain. At first she had thought it was someone even more armored up than herself, but the faceplate was not showing any sort of signs of being part of a helm in whole and it was now happily displaying a smiling, virtual face. Her training had Neeka noting armaments a few moments before she realized what was off about the figure entirely: the movements were more mechanical than fluid. The stride and stance was unerring; a sign of a framework. This was a droid.

Yet it was unlike any droid Neeka had ever been close to before and certainly was a far cry away from those commonly seen around these parts. The few functioning ones were old, dirty astromechs at best and mostly broken simplistic lifter droids at worst- but this particular droid was definitely neither. Neeka began to put pieces together and the clearer the puzzle became the more worried she grew. There were barely any marks on this armed and armored droid. Droids didn't drink cantina swill...or anything for that matter.


Uh oh.



Neeka Wren's hand casually slid to lay upon her thigh, then inched closer and closer to her holstered blaster. Something was about to go down.

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ approached the bar, its photoreceptors observing Target 1, Target 2, and Armed Humanoid. All three had turned and were watching the droid approach. Facial analysis of subject Target 1 and Target 2 indicated heightened anxiety. Facial analysis of Armed Humanoid was inconclusive. Armed Humanoid's hand wandered closer to their holstered blaster pistol. The droid paused, turning their head in a sharp motion to settle its primary vision field on Armed Humanoid as it's displayed expression changed.



Threat level analysis: High
Threat response: Pending
Initiate function: Warn

"Statement: This unit does not have business with 'subject: Armed Humanoid'. Suggestion: Refrain from making hand contact with your blaster." The droid's neutral male tone issued it's warning. The previously ignored bartender spoke up.

"We don't serve your kind here." The bartender spoke angrily, a bit of spittle flying from his lips as he spoke. The droid turned its head in a snap to center on the bartender, its facial expression changing again.



Threat level analysis: Low
Threat response: Negative
Initiate function: Negotiate

"Statement: Understood. This unit does not require service. This unit has business in 'establishment: One Fell Swoop.' Suggestion: Refrain from interfering in this unit's business."

There was a brief moment of tension while the bartender licked his lip uncertainly. D3-EZ's facial analysis of the man indicated he was thinking. After a few moments the bartender seemed to come to a decision.

"Aye. Conduct your business and be gone."

The droid's facial expression changed at these words.



"Statement: Understood. Resolution: This unit will conduct its business."

Target acquire: subjects; Target 1, Target 2
Initiate function: Dispatch
Target acquire: subject; Armed Humanoid, Bartender
Initiate funciton: Observe/react

The droid's arms moved in unison, the smooth glide of new servomotors whirring silently. It's left hand settled on the DG-29 blaster pistol holstered on it's left him before halting. It's right hand smoothly drew the BM-357 Python holsters on it's right hip, quickly drawing it out as the droid's head and pistol snapped to center on the pair of Trandoshan's at the other side of the bar. With unnerving speed and precision the droid pulled the trigger twice, its arm shifting ever so slightly to adjust it's aim in between shots.

The pair of Trandoshan's didn't stand a chance.

D3-EZ turned it's head to center between the bartender and the armed humanoid, it's expression altering slightly as it holstered it's pistol.



"Statement: This unit has finished conducting it's business."

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

She froze entirely, fingers just barely grazing the edge of the pistol's butt and halting there. Times like these were when she was thankful she was wearing an expressionless visor that made her look far more in control of the situation than she felt. The air crackled with tension in the tiny bar, like the smell of atmosphere right before a huge storm.

A gruff voice at her shoulder brought Neeka crashing out her flight-or-fight confliction and her head turned towards the bartender. The man, Dezzi (she thought his name was), had been around here slinging bad drinks since she was an urchin on these streets and wasn't a violent man in the whole time she vaguely knew him. Yet violence was an unavoidable part of owning a small cantina on the Smuggler's Moon, so his next words seemed carefully measured and were a phrase that he had probably uttered before. Neeka turned back to the droid.

It's "expression" had changed while she was looking at Dezzi and the frowning face that the droid now sported caught her off-guard. This was undoubtably a dangerous situation but the whimsical nature of this rudimentary illustration elicited another response within the young Mandalorian. Osi'kyr, why is this thing so cute?


In the next moment, both Trandoshans were suddenly on the floor with bolt holes smoking in their heads.


There was a long moment where that tension that had built up now had no idea where to go and just sort of flailed around in the room. Dezzi and Neeka shared looks before simultaneously staring back at D3-EZ for some further long silence. It was broken when Neeka lifted her hand from her blaster and wrapped fingers around her cup instead, then brought it to her lips with an upwards tilt of her helm.

It seemed the most Mandalorian way to respond.

"Shooting like that would usually have me buying the shooter a drink." Her comm-muffled voice came through the armored visage with more calm than she had expected to muster. Neeka did not rise from the stool, but instead simply raised her voice to indicate she was addressing the droid. Her leg lifted and let her right foot rest casually upon her left knee. "You Bounty Hunter's Guild? Might have somethin' for ya, if you don't mind a surprise contract. I can pay."

Neeka Wren felt very odd in offering a seat for an assassin droid, but she gave a welcoming gesture towards the stool closest to her all the same.

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

With it's blaster holstered, D3-EZ was about to turn and leave when Armored Humanoid spoke up, their words seemingly nonsensical in a way that made the droid pause for a brief moment, taking an extra long second to process and come up with a response as it turned it's head to center Armored Humanoid in it's vision.



"Observation: This unit does not require the consumption of liquids."

The droid said before letting its head to return to a neutral, forward facing position. Ready to turn and leave again, Armored Humanoid once again spoke. Its words were much more interesting this time and it once more caught the attention of the droid. Once more, D3-EZ looked at the human.

"Statement: This unit is not a member of 'organization: Bounty Hunter's Guild'." The droid moved its head to look from Armored Humanoid to the chair they offered, back to Armored Humanoid, then back to the chair.

D3-EZ reached down, bending slightly at the waist to grab the stool with both hands before raising it to hold it up with it's elbows bent. It shifted the stool left, then right as it examined it.

Initiate function: Object analysis
Object designation: Improvised weapon
Weapon categorization: bludgeoning; adequate

"Observation: This object is an adequate improvised bludgeoning weapon. Statement: This unit is not interested in it as a form of payment."

D3-EZ set the stool back down and remained standing as it looked down at Armored Humanoid while its expression changed before speaking again.



"Query: Does 'subject: Armed Humanoid' possess Republic or Imperial credits, wupiupi, Hutt peggats, Clamari flan, Independent System Consortium Crowns, or some other form of solid currency? Statement: This unit accepts forms of currency as payment."

The droid finished speaking, it would remain standing there silently until Armed Humanoid answered.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

Neeka felt pretty silly for a number reasons at this moment, but none so profoundly as when the droid full on lifted up the stool she had nodded at to examine it. Of course droids don't need to sit; even the offering itself was odd to do but the girl was determined to act like everything was all according to plan. She was a cool and collected and calm Mandalorian, wasn't she?


Neeka just wished her hands would stop shaking when they weren't lying flat on something.


"...rrrright. I mean- they just don't make stools like they used to, after all. How about a blend of metal instead?" She flashed an unseen smile as her fingers dipped into a pouch on her belt, then emerged with two objects: a coin and a forged bar with an Imperial logo. Neeka placed both types of currencies upon the counter and with a gloved finger still upon the coin, flicked the side of the peggat to send it spinning. It hummed softly across the bar and eventually rolled to a settled position with a rattling noise.

"Mind you- it won't be a lot. But the job is easy and real close. Three thousand in credits and peggats total for watching my back. It's easy money for you and it's an assurance I won't get stabbed in the back for me. Name's Neeka L-" She cleared her throat and tried again. "Wren. Neeka Wren." There was a slight reaction from Dezzi at the name who blinked and narrowed his eyes at the lithe Mandalorian seated at his bar.


"You interested or no? Either way..." Neeka rose from her seat and glanced back at the still-slightly-smoking bodies of the two reptilian aliens. "Probably time to leave before any of their friends show up."

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ continued to stare at Armored Humanoid after setting down the stool, processor analyzing and filing away their words as they spoke. The information that they didn't make stools how they used to implied that at some point, someone made stools that were much better bludgeoning weapons than in the current time.

D3-EZ's head bobbed ever so slightly as Armored Humanoid fished out some currency, setting one piece down on the table, identified as an Imperial Credit. The second coin, a golden peggat was sent spinning with a flick of the finger and D3-EZ stayed silent as it spun and spun and spun until finally it rattled to a flat stop.



The droid's expression changed as it returned it's attention back to Armed Humanoid, who explained the details of the job. It crunched the numbers rapidly for watching a back and preventing stabbings. It wondered if it would be allowed to shoot anybody as well.

Subject: Armed Humanoid
Designation change...
Subject designation: Neeka L'Wren

"Introduction: This unit's designation is Dee-Three-Ee-Zee." D3-EZ said phonetically after Neeka L'Wren introduced themselves at the end of their pitch. Its facial expression changed for a moment.



"Statement: This unit accepts the payment of three thousand's worth of Credits and Peggats to watch Neeka L'Wren's back, and to prevent stabbing." The droid paused for a moment before continuing, its expression changing back.



"Query: Will this unit have the opportunity to shoot organic targets? Statement: This unit's primary function is shooting organic targets." The droid tilted its head for a moment before finishing speaking "Request: Lead the way, Nika L'Wren."

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

Briefly Neeka imagined that distant, yellowish representation of an emotion being reflected in a hail of blaster fire and she shuddered at the thought. Whomever or whatever had made this happy-faced assassin was definitely her kind of sick. She found herself almost hoping that things didn't go according to plan just so she could see this droid in action.

"Pleasure to meetcha, DeeThree." She nearly squealed as the face changed into the image of a thumbs-up. How many different variations were there, she wondered? Maybe an endless amount. She wished her brother were here to see it. Vin had always loved well-built droids.


Neeka didn't bother to take the cash back from where she had left it; she did have to pay for her drink after all. She didn't spare Dezzi any final glances before moving up from the stool in a smooth motion and making to step in stride with the droid's gait. Or at least as best she could manage it.

"The name is- ...oh, never mind. It's close enough!"


There was silence from the girl for a good while as she led them both through the tightly packed, garbage-strewn streets of this particular slummy neighborhood. She forced herself to keep her shoulders straight, her head high. But her heart was in her throat and it was pounding loudly in her ears. She felt sweaty. Panicked. If Neeka didn't focus on something else other than their surroundings, she was going to lose it.

"...Sorry, right. There's a pretty good chance you'll get to do some shooting." She declared to D3-EZ after a few measured breaths. "But the target is mine. If you need to shoot him then aim to disable. He's a slippery bastard and he'll be in his home, so expect traps and tricks. He might have some backup of his own and those you can blast away."


And there it was. Just as she'd left it: a rotten looking building housing apartments for those that could afford them. Even a shelter like this mess was better than the gutter.

It was time to do this.

"The target is in apartment 3B. Top floor, first door on the left after you exit the stairs. Me? I'll be making sure he doesn't leave the back way. I want you to knock on the door to make him distracted.

"He'll look through a peephole so he'll see you coming, but that'll be enough time for me. Soon as you hear me come in, break down the door and make sure he can't get away until I blast him. Then you get paid. Easy, right? You ready, DeeThree?"

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ followed Neeka out of the bar, it's pace quick, yet stiff. It slowed after a moment, uncertain of where to go and deducing that it needed to travel at least the speed of the organic Neeka, if not slower. D3-EZ didn't receive an answer to it's questions right away, which it merely filed away as fault of the organic's slower processing speed.

It turned it's head to look at Neeka when she started to speak, the organic's processor finally catching up to the question. The answers were satisfactory, though some of them required follow up questions.

"Statement: Excellent. This unit will fulfill it's primary function." The droid continued to look at Neeka as they walked, having already mapped out the path ahead in its pathfinding subroutine. "Query: How will this unit Identify Neeka's primary target? Proposal: This unit could shoot all target's in the knees if unable to identify Neeka's primary target. Statement: This will allow Neeka to dispatch primary target, and allow easy dispatch of remaining secondary targets."

The logic made sense to D3-EZ. They arrived at the apartment building and Neeka explained where the target was likely located. The droid stared at the building for a brief moment as its scanners functioned.

Initiate function: Scan structure
Scanning...
Building analysis: Dangerous, unstable
Entry analsysis: Front door, Rooftop, Fire escapes, windows

The droid turned it's head to Neeka as it finished it's analysis, its expression changing.



"Observation: The building is unstable, prolonged occupation will result in collapse." The droid seemed to stop for a moment as its processor continued to work. "Proposal: This unit will blow out support structures, initiating building collapse. The target will not survive." The droid finished speaking as it looked at Neeka, its face changing again as it finished it's proposal



It did not divulge the information it had processed about potential collateral damage and lives lost, judging the information useless to the task of eliminating Neeka's primary target.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

The visor tilted slightly as she regarded D3-EZ's offer to kneecap some jerks. It may have been mistaken for incredulity if it weren't for the vague shrug and chuckle accompanied by Neeka saying: "That's not a bad idea if there's more in there than I can handle or he tries to run for it. For all I know, the bastard is having himself a party. I kinda hope he is; I wanna ruin it!"

Briefly the Mandalorian drew her pistol to check its charge. She was feeling much more in control now, oddly- perhaps it was an unexpected effect of D3's nearby presence.

As she twirled the blaster back into her holster in a twitchy, nervous habity kind of way, D3-EZ piped up with yet another plan in the most droid-like manner possible. Neeka scoffed and shook her head. "Nahhh. I know for a fact that at least some of the people in there are worth keeping un-squished. Tempting, though!"

Neeka took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back.

"...though if it comes down to either me or the building definitely choose me, 'kay? Right! Let's bag us that sunuvabantha. Happy hunting, DeeThree!"



True to her plan, Neeka Wren made her way to the back of the building through the traversal of a short alleyway and stood at the base of a cacophony of twisted durasteel that had once resembled a fire escape. Rust and age reigned supreme here...but her mission would not be impeded. The young warrior lifted her left arm straight and used her right to press a button upon her wrist. Immediately, the device shot out a soaring line that hooked and magnetized to the top of the mess. Neeka tested its weight by tugging a few times, then pressed another button and the grapple line began to wind back up with her in tow. She rode it most of the way up the building before detaching it from the vambrace and winding it around her palm a few times.

This was it. This was her moment of revenge.

She gave D3 a while longer to get in position and do what she'd asked it to do. Then, she took a few breaths.


Whatever peace may or may not have been in the apartment was quickly shattered by the heavy soles of Mandalorian boots flying through the window. Neeka had leapt up and all but launched herself to pendulum her way through the window entirely, then fell into a combat roll that ended with her blaster in hand and aiming at the face of the apartment's sole occupant.

But rather than the sad, old face of the human she had expected to see there was instead a youthful green-skinned Twi'lek.


"Be'nni?! What the hell are you doing here?" Neeka shouted her inquiry before realizing her mistake and quickly tacking on: "DEETHREE- STOP! IT'S NOT HIM! IT IS NOT THE TARGET!"

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ listened to Neeka's various comments about his various proposals. The first one about kneecapping everyone in the target zone was an affirmative and the command was affixed into the droid's parameters for the mission. The second was a negative, no knocking the building down. Some of Neeka's words and phrases were strange to the droid, and it filed them away as 'slang' in it's memory banks.

The introduction of the idea that there were some organics worth keeping unsquished. That was a novel idea to the commando droid.

"Statement: Affirmative." The droid said with it's eerily 'happy' face looking at Neeka before turning to walk into the building.

-----​

The elevator ride up to the target zone on the top floor was filled with the peaceful tunes of elevator music and a terrified organic who stood in the corner of the elevator, eyes glued to the droid. Reaching the top floor, the droid stepped out of the elevator, drawing a blaster in it's right hand and the organic in the elevator started clicking the close door button as fast as it's fingers would operate. D3-EZ was confident that it could click the button at a much faster and more efficient rate if it chose to. Pitiful organics.

Walking over to the door of apartment 3B, the droid knocked twice on the door. It waited to the count of five units with no response. Scanning the door for weak points, the droid located them.

Initiate function: Breach

D3-EZ's left hand drew back at head level, before slamming forwards like a piston to smash through the thin wall that the door was framed to. The droid grabbed the metallic frame of the pneumatic door and pulled harshly, ripping the framing of the door out of the thin, cheap wall that it was set in before stepping into the room.

Initiate function: Area scan

The droid's scanners scanned the room as it entered, noting two subjects of interest. One was D3-EZ's employer who came crashing through the window, the other was a target strapped to a chair and gagged.

Subject Identify: Neek L'Wren
Subject designation: Employer
Subject status: Live
Threat level: High
Requisite level: High
Optimal status: Live
Initiate function: Assist

Subject Identify: Organic, Twi'lek, Male
Subject designation: Secondary Target
Subject status: Captive
Threat level: Negative
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Maimed
Initiate function: Targeted Maiming

The droid's blaster lined up to aim at the twi'lek figure's knees, pulling the trigger just as D3-EZ processed Neeka's command to STOP. Unable to stop, the droid did the next best thing and shifted it's aim as the blaster went off. Instead of blowing out the twi'lek's knee, the blaster bolt cut through one of the chair legs, sending the captive twi'lek falling in the chair.

"Query: Is this 'subject: Twi'lek male' not a secondary target?" The droid asked as it raised its blaster pistol to point towards the roof in a ready position.

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

Confusion flooded through her like a tidal wave and it took Neeka longer than it should have to straighten herself up to standing. Nothing about this situation made sense. Why was he here and why was he tied up and strapped to a chair? Unbidden memories came up at the sight, for this was hardly the first time she'd seen this particular Twi'lek bound and gagged. The main difference was that this time he was wearing clothing.

Neeka yanked the strap from his mouth but before she could rattle off any further questions a grinding and crushing noise drowned her out and caused them both to look in the direction of the door. They watched as it was full-on yanked from its place like it was no more than paper. Neeka's mouth fell agape.

"Neeks?! Is that you?! What is- AHHH!"

Be'nni's words were cut off as swiftly as the chair's leg beneath him and he toppled until his face was pressed against the floor and his lekku was draped haphazardly over himself. Neeka crouched down and stared hard at the young Twi'lek.

"Alright, B. You got about two seconds to explain-"

"SHUT UP FOR ONCE, NEEKS! IT'S A TRAP!"


A sound much softer than any had been since they'd entered the apartment caught her immediate attention. It was a sound she knew very well, having made it herself for many years. A door on the western wall hissed open with a distinctly rusty squeak and three gruff-looking men emerged with blasters in hand and aimed in the Mandalorian's and the Droid's directions.

Neeka barely had time to dive behind the divider that separated the main room from the kitchen before the three unleashed a volley of seven bolts in a sloppy spray.


"Ohhh HELL no! That's MY ROOM, YOU SLIMEBALLS!" Enraged and still sort of bewildered, the young warrior quickly popped up and fired two rapid shots at the assailants. One sank into the wall and created a smoking scorch mark but the other managed to clip a shoulder and caused a momentary lapse in half of the volley. Neeka dropped back down before she to avoid catching a bolt of her own.


Back pressed to a wall that was taking fire, she wondered how D3-EZ was faring.

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ was still waiting for a response from Neeka, who seemed more preoccupied with Twi'lek Male than with it's query. If a droid could feel jealous... it probably wouldn't. Instead it waited in standby, it's blaster pistol still pointing at the ceiling.

Several things happened in sequence as D3-EZ counted the time units until Neeka's processor caught up to it's question. Twi'lek Male shouted the word TRAP, D3-EZ's auditory sensor's detected the sound of a pneumatic door hissing open and several footsteps. And then blaster fire filled the room.

Out of sight of the mystery assailants due to geometry, D3-EZ noted that Neeka's processor response time to immediate danger was much grater than Neeka's response time to D3-EZ's questions. This was logical. Neeka could not answer D3-EZ's questions if Neeka was dead. The droid tilted forwards a bit and turned it's head to gain a fraction of sight around the corner, it's photosensors scanning the hallway.

Subject Identify: Unknown Humanoid 1
Subject designation: Secondary Target 1
Subject status: Live
Threat level: High
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Maimed
Initiate function: Targeted Maiming

Subject Identify: Unknown Humanoid 2
Subject designation: Secondary Target 2
Subject status: Live
Threat level: High
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Maimed
Initiate function: Targeted Maiming

Subject Identify: Unknown Humanoid 3
Subject designation: Secondary Target 3
Subject status: Live
Threat level: High
Requisite level: Negative
Optimal status: Maimed
Initiate function: Targeted Maiming

Tilting back as more blaster fire hissed back from Neeka's position, the droid turned to look at her as it processed the number of occupants in the room. It's processor ran though some faulty code that wasn't of manufacturer origin as it concluded that there were more than three occupants. Three equaled a crowd. Four equaled a party. Every additional individual must equal... Greater party.

"Exclamation: Neeka, you were right. It is a party!" The droid said as it caught Neeka's eye from around the side of the barrier she had taken cover behind, its expression changing.



Satisfied with it's judgement of the situation and targets, the commando droid took the opportunity given by Neeka's firing to lean forwards once again, this time lowering it's blaster pistol in line with the three secondary targets. Three trigger pulls, a moment of targeting readjustment in between shots and the hallway was filled with screams.

D3-EZ stepped into the hallway, walking forwards rapidly with it's weapon trained on the men on the ground who had subsequently dropped their guns to fall and clutch at what remained of their knees. One of them upon seeing the specter of the assassin droid's cheerful visage approaching reached for his fallen blaster as another secondary target cleared the doorway.

Crunch"AAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!"

D3-EZ's metallic foot stepped solidly on the wrist of the offending arm, crushing it into pulp as the droid swung its blaster in a pistol whip to the fourth target's face, sending the man tumbling down in the hallway. A fourth trigger pull put a blaster bolt burning through the fallen man's knee and into the ground as D3-EZ stepped past him and into the frame of the doorway.

A fifth man who had yet to charge through leveled a blaster at D3-EZ, his aim only thrown off by a fifth blaster bolt from the commando droid's gun to the knee. The blaster bolt flew over D3-EZ's shoulder and the man somehow remained standing as his blaster fell to the ground, hopping on one leg. The droid had an easy solution to this, another blaster bolt to the remaining leg. D3-EZ stepped back into the hallway and turned it's head to look at Neeka.



"Statement: All clear!" The droid's electronic tone sounding almost... cheerful as the apartment building was filled with the screams of permanently maimed men. Looking around at the fallen target's the droid spoke again. "Query: Are any of these organics Neeka's primary target?"

@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

It was times like these that made her wonder why the hell she'd ever chosen the warrior's life. The air in the home she'd grew up in now stank with the almost-chemical smell of gas being converted into deadly beams and the light from them reflected the destruction that was being wrought. She felt like vomiting in her helmet.

Then, she heard her name called. Her head turned to look over to D3-EZ who now sported a jovial "expression" complete with party hat. And confetti!

Neeka felt a slow smile creep into her expression and the panic of fight-or-flight melted away into a slightly manic laugh. D3 was right! This was a party, not her home! Her home was on Krownest. Her home was among her people, her clan. This?

This was just a skeleton that needed burying.


And speaking of burying things, Neeka wondered if D3 hadn't decided to take some liberties as the sounds of screaming echoed off the walls and towards her. The blaster fire halted. It would have been an eerie stillness in contrast if it weren't for the moans of pain she was now hearing. Still, she hesitated.

The all-clear came a moment later and Neeka popped up to witness a scene that she only could have described as extraordinary. Every single one of the three had been effectively neutralized as well as more attackers she hadn't even detected. Neutralized? That's one word for having a giant hole in your leg, she thought.


"Uhh. Little help...?"

"Shut up, Be'nni."

Neeka passed the still-prone Twi'lek and loomed like a specter of death over the proned thugs. From their perspectives, their whole world was now the smoking blaster barrels and the emotionless faces of those who wielded them. Those who would choose their fates.

"Thanks, DeeThree. You're the best. But you scum? You're nothing but guns with hands attached. Now, one of you better do some explaining and tell me where he is before I lose my patience."

"Don't bother, Neeks. I know where your dad is."

Neeka looked over to Be'nni slowly as he spoke, then back at the men.



The room was quiet by the time she holstered her blaster. Her shots had been swift, accurate, and final.

Neeka spoke as she was untying the Twi'lek. "You okay, DeeThree? No damage or anything?"

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ stood in standby as Neeka passed by the prone twi'lek still strapped to the fallen chair. It noted the designation that Neeka gave it and updated it's own designation of the twi'lek

Subject Identify: Organic, Twi'lek, Male
Subject designation: Be'nni
Subject status: Captive
Threat level: Negative
Requisite level: Undetermined
Optimal status: Alive
Initiate function: Ignore

D3-EZ turned it's head to look at Neeka as she spoke to it, absorbing the information and acknowledging her words but giving no response as she moved on to address the fallen maimed men. Be'nni piped up, rendering whatever information the men might have as unnecessary. D3-EZ watched without emotion as Neeka quickly dispatched the men before holstering her blaster. It approved. Holstering it's own blaster, it turned to look at Neeka as she asked it a question.

"Statement: This unit is the best!" It said, mirroring Neeka's words before running a quick diagnostics on it's systems. "Analysis: This unit has taken no damage. Several programming faults detected." It divulged the results of it's analysis without thought before turning to look at the fallen Be'nni, then back to Neeka.

"Query: Would you like this unit to interrogate 'subject: Be'nni' for the location of your 'subject: Dad'? Statement: This unit is programmed for interrogation and torture." The droid said in it's robotic tone, the smile never leaving it's face.



@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

"Programming errors, huh? Same here, DeeThree. Same here."

In the wake of the death pervading what was once her childhood home, Neeka needed some air. Her helmet made a small hiss as she removed it and she glared at Be'nni while he made his way to a standing position. Then she promptly flattened him back out with a sucker punch.

"Unf-! ...I probably deserved that."

"You think?!"

While Be'nni picked himself back up, her new friend proceeded to make a suggestion that gave the girl pause as though actually considering it. The Twi'lek's face tightened the longer the silence dragged on.

"...Neeks! Really?!"

"Yeahhh, yeah okay fineeeee. No, DeeThree- I've got this. This moron of a Twi'lek is on our side. Be'nni- meet DeeThree. DeeThree- Be'nni."

"Uh. Nice to...meet y-"

"Stow it and get talking, B."

"Right." The young alien sighed and wiped sweat from his protruding brow before continuing on. "After you and Vin left none of us really knew how your dad was gonna react. You were the only one keeping him from making this neighborhood...well, more of a hell and then you left. What'd you expect was gonna happen?

"He cracked down, Neeks. Started acting like he was king of all of us. Even brought in some of his cronies to live with him. They made things even worse. I was trying to figure out what I can do for everyone here when he had me taken here...'cause he knows you're here. Paid people at the docks or has been keeping tabs on you or something but he wants you gone, Neeks. For good."


The Mandalorian listened with a slight curl of anger to her expression that deepened the longer Be'nni spoke. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of shooting something or screaming until her facial features were slowly obscured by the re-donning of her helm.

"Where can I find him? ...wait- I need to take care of something."


A gloved hand dipped into a stiff pouch upon her belt and soon emerged again holding a stack of previously-promised credits that she held out offeringly to the droid.

"For a job well done, DeeThree. I'd work with you again any time."

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ just cocked it's head at Neeka as she made a comment about programming errors, expressing her own struggle with them. D3-EZ wasn't aware that organics could have programming errors, or that they even had programming. So much to learn. The armored woman took off her helmet and D3-EZ got a look at her face for the first time, filing it away in it's memory banks neatly attached to the profile it had built for her so far.

Perhaps programming errors explained her processing lag in answering questions.

There was a brief interplay of conversation between Neeka and Be'nni during with the droid maintained it's silence. Watching. Listening. Waiting. The details were of little interest but were logged anyways, perhaps there was something relevant in all the needless chatter.

There was a brief pause and Neeka pulled out her coin pouch, offering them to D3-EZ. The droid looked down at the stack of credits, then back at Neeka.



"Query: Does Neeka not wish to continue the hunt for target 'subject: Dad'?" The droid asked. As far as it was concerned the job wasn't finished. They had failed to catch the primary target and while D3-EZ had gotten to do plenty of back watching, there had been no stab prevention to speak of. "Statement: Perhaps target 'subject: Dad' has another party prepared for Neeka. This unit would not want to miss out on a party." The droid said, putting on it's party hat.



@Roobi

 

[Neeka Wren]

She had not honestly known what to expect from the combat droid when she made the offer, but Neeka's reasoning was more in self-preservation than altruism. She'd seen what D3-EZ could do to "organics" and she definitely didn't need it as an enemy. Even still, there was no helping the grin that split her serious expression in half at the sight of the whimsical portrayal of a party.

"The hunt is gonna continue, that much is certain. I was just giving you the option of leaving a fight that's personal to just me, but I won't say no to more backup! And denying anyone the chance at a good battle would be dishonorable, too."

While Neeka bent to rifle through the pockets of her kills for credits she could use better than corpses, Be'nni regarded his old flame with a curious expression. He even seemed about ready to comment on it and opened his mouth to do so when Neeka's search yielded a beeping holocomm. She jabbed the answering button and a flickering blue holo-image of an ugly aqualish missing one eye materialized above the device.

"Boss wants to know if it's-" The alien jabbered in Huttese before realizing the person on the other end was not the intended recipient. Before he could hang up on her, Neeka growled out, "You tell that scum that it's gonna take a LOT more than that to kill me. I'm comin' for him."

And with that, she slammed the holocomm onto the ground and crushed it with her heel.

"So much for the element of surprise. Look, your father is holed up in the Hutt warehouse few blocks down. The one that Uylon used to swear was haunted. He's shoved some cargo containers up against it and never leaves so you might as well be going up against a military fort, Neeks."

The sound of a blaster's cylinder being charged filled the air as Neeka checked on the state of her weapon and ammunition. There was satisfaction in her voice when the Mandalorian spoke again.

"Never planned a siege before. Now there's our party, DeeThree! If you don't need to talk strategy or anything, follow me and we'll be there in no time." Neeka hesitated before adding, "Get yourself scarce, Be'nni. They'll be looking for you."

@Arcangel

 

[D3-EZ]

D3-EZ was impartial to the details of the arrangement. It could have taken the credits and walked away at that moment... but then it would miss out on the party.

"Statement: This unit does not understand 'concept: honor', however, this unit will be satisfied to complete it's contract with Neeka after the elimination of target 'subject: Dad'."

It was pretty straightforward to the droid's logic center to only accept the credits after full completion of the job. However the question of an early out as well as the possibilities was introduced to it's logic center for the first time since its activation. There was a flurry of activity during which D3-EZ stood on standby as Neeka looted the corpses. A flickering hologram that spoke Huttese seemed to acquire the knowledge that the ambush party was only successful in entertaining Neeka temporarily.

D3-EZ took in what little tactical data was voiced by Be'nni about the barricaded warehouse. His insistence that it would be as tough as assaulting a military fort was considered and then doubted.

"Query: Approximately how many targets might we expect at the warehouse?" The droid voiced, questioning Be'nni. There was a slight possibility that the twi'lek wouldn't answer, in which case D3-EZ concluded it would result to coercion and torture to retrieve it's answers.

"Statement: This unit is programmed for infiltration and assault missions. Subject: Dad's fortifications will not prevent this unit and Neeka from attending the party." The droid said confidently. It would let Neeka lead the way as it seemed she was more likely to know the route.

@Roobi