The Hidden Moon Kyupuu, Beyond the Auracexian Sector, Orion Arm...
"An ironic coincident that we three stand here, ready to undertake what has been proposed, isn't it?" Jero said softly, his voice a careful syllabic hiss. He was the tallest of the three who lurked under the overhanging wall, his form and features similarly shaded by the camouflaged cloaks that all wore. "We all who come from the Sessool in some manner, whether through birth," a glance to the shortest and yet widest, "Experience," and to the one beside the first, "Or punishment," and by that he meant, of course, himself. Leaning back he allowed a careful glance around the imposing features of the ruin - whenever it had been built, the stone walls had begun to crumble until here and there they were now supported by piles of their own rubble - before once again settling against the wall, one hand clasped to his shoulder as narrow gasps of pain passed his thin lips.
"Ya dunna have to come with us," the third member noted, her subterranean accent revealing her character. "Fact it would be better iffn' you two stayed behind ah'n let me handle this. This is mah' kind o' work ya know!"
For a moment a pistol flashed out from under the ragged edge of Meli's cloak in emphasis before disappearing again but the taller reptilian shrugged, another wince of pain giving it a strange punctuation, "No, a Prince does not return to his Kingdom after it has been conquered by his army - he comes at the front. Even if he is a Prince of Darkness. We are here to set the story as much as conquer the place; I am sure the Republic has many more subtle ways to dispatch of a smuggler's nest than simple force of arms."
A rattle of voices served to bring their attention to the center and break their conversation. Littered throughout the fallen stonework where a bare patch here and there made work or leisure possible was a scattering of just the sorts one might expect to find; Mercenaries, smugglers, pirates, bandits, fugitives, and most importantly slavers. There were also a good number of slaves in cages, chained to poles, or simply left to lay where the last of their strength had failed them. It wasn't the primary purpose of the outpost but it was sufficient to establish the backstory as proposed by the higher-ups in Anathema. A retirement had been suggested and discarded but to become the reclusive Slave Prince of his own Kingdom?
Jero Heron, former merchant and lone survivor of the destruction of Lethon, found the idea delightful.
More-so that, in this sector of the galaxy, his primary clientele would be those slavers and associated scum who operated on the fringes or indeed interior of Sessool space. Wares of the biological sort tended to be moved, sold, and traded widely so as to muddy their origins and reduce the possibility that those who took the slaves would be subject to the anger of those they had been taken from. For public purpose he would thus act as a middle-man, purchasing slaves from those who took them and at the kind of fiercely negotiated prices that set his merchant's blood afire, while presumably then selling them on to whoever might have need. This was the honeypot, the monkey's coconut, the trap; He would buy, 'merchants' from the Republic and elsewhere would buy from him, and the former slaves would move on to more settled parts of the galaxy. Those who showed up to bid with the intention of adding to their own chattel would find themselves consistently outbid by wealthier merchants of a more... Savory nature.
But first, "I am sorry to have allowed my reflective interlude to intrude, Ms. Meli. I find myself ready to begin!"
"Ah'riht," the Dwarf took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When they had opened again the deep brown and white was replaced with nothing but reflective black. A fingertip around the corner, a brief survey of their surroundings to ensure they had not paused long enough to fall into an impromptu ambush, and she nodded to her lover who returned the nod and swept back the trim of his cloak to reveal the heaviest auto-loading grenade launcher she had been able to get her hands on. It was a cannon in all but terminology with a bore the size of her very large fist and an angled ammunition drum that might have held three to four rounds at best. "Bitches love cannons - let's give em ah cannon! Go, Doc!"
A step to the side and ScLappi raised the enormous barrel to the forest canopy, falling to one knee and bracing himself as he pulled the trigger and let the drum cycle to empty, WHuump, Whuump, Whuump, Whuump...
Four stars burst inside the complex turning the brilliance of day into an inferno of light as the crash of thunder at one's feet bounces against the walls. Those who had been looking the wrong way at the right moment fell blinded while those without protection clasped hands to ears that would never hear again. The porcine agent of their suffering rolled back to the side while first one figure and then the other followed him out of cover as he began to reload. First the low and thickly muscled form of the Dwarven Juggernaut sprang away, her cloak falling to the ground as the first dozen shots rang from her pistol in quick succession as the whip-thin form of the new Prince followed. One languid shot after another sizzled from the silvery weapon held carefully at his hip, the other arm folded across his chest to clutch at the weeping wound on his shoulder.
"Something about being closer to them," he half-shouted, a man running around the corner with rifle in hand only to sprawl out as his head exploded in a spray of bone and blood, "It hurts more. Perhaps it is only memory of the time..."
Energy crackled past and he turned far too slowly, watching as another came close but was stopped fast along with two others dressed in motley armor as the wall next to them came down suddenly and was replaced by a dust-covered Meli. A step and a kick and a helmeted head flew past to land square in the arms of another who caught it, stared down at the open-terror eyes of whoever had been wearing it, and then dropped it to receive instead a precise hole between his own startled eyes. He dropped and Jero swept forward at the waist for a deep bow, "Thank you," just as a deep rumble shook the ruined courtyard.
One of the moldering armored vehicles - a rusty-blue jeep that was not quite as rusty as it had first appeared - ground itself to life and lurched forward as the desperate woman at the wheel sought out the correct combination of pedals and levers. Another fighter scrambled to a mounted gun atop the crew compartment and sought some way to bring it to action but fell only a moment later as his leg vanished and he sagged onto the bloody stump. Fingers that grew feeble by the second scrambled for the trigger and another blast toppled him backwards to paint ultramarine with deep crimson across the back of the vehicle.
"Excuse me," Jero felt a hand brush at his leg and he stepped aside, one eye still on the truck as it began to rumble alarmingly closer. "Suppressing fire, coming through..."
The thick barrel poked out beyond him and ScLappi fired once, the solid ThUump replaced at the end by WherrCRACK! as the jeep was tossed up on its rear wheels as the explosive tossed the engine and hood into the air. Meli was at the door a heartbeat later and she grabbed the handle as the woman looked up from the bloodied steering wheel in shock as she tore it off and with a powerful arm braced herself against the frame, grabbed the woman, and threw her over the distant wall and into the forest beyond. Another WhuThump and in the very periphery of Jero's vision a figure racing into the open with rifle but no pants took the heavy round from the grenade launcher square in the chest before spinning away in a blossom of bone-laced carnage.
That was, it seemed, that.
All was quiet and for a moment the three stood looking from body to body, checking for any signs of life. Then Meli moved to the still-solid doors of the central building, "Ah'l raht - ready to see if anyone's home?"
