| You See Me Rollin |
| Summary: | A bar brawl erupts when someone is recognized. |
| Date: | 19 MAR 2011 |
| Related Logs: | Stuff |
| Players: |
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| A Bar. On Corellia. |
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| Desc Below |
| IC Date |
The Tipper Down is not so big a Cantina, just enough room for a ten places bar area, a four persons dancing floor with a crummy holobox playing eons dead bands and four tables for small groups. The film of age covers everything with multiple scratches under dirty varnish and deathstick burns. The main attraction is the pool table by the dance floor, where customers wage and lose money against the locals. The crowd tonight is the same as every night, mostly spacers and fixers arguing over politics and the price of escorts.
At the bar, Loknar is shooting up his third shooter. "I tell ya, we can take most pilots this side of the Galaxy…" he mutters, bragging to anyone who bothers to listen.
Moving in from the last wager at the pool table, a rather dressed down Commander of the Banshee strides, black leathers gleaming in the faint light. She catches the tail end of Loknar's words and Ona smirks a bit, elbowing her way to the bar to set her empty glass down. She waves a finger up. "Next rounds on me.." She taps the counter next and looks to Loknar. "talking like that is what gets you killed." She murmurs, already feeling the drinks she had earlier as she looks across her shoulder at him. "Humble keeps you alive."
No pantsuit for Taija's visit this time. Best to keep up appearances on the street. She's in her Standard Issue Duds of Casual. Pushing into the bar she takes off her sunglasses and hat, tucking the former into the inside of her jacket and the latter to be held by her side. There's a short breath from her as she smells the place. "Frakall, this smells like my first apartment. Music is pretty awesome, though." She glances over to the man beside him and gives a terse smile and nod. Looking back out over the bar as she steps inside she looks like she might choke on her next step. "Oh. Holy. Shit." A beaten pause. "It can't be this easy. There's no way," she mutters to Arctan, gesturing to Ona. "Target acquired. We gotta get her out of here quietly if we can. Follow my lead on this one." All whispered words. Taija takes a few more casual steps over towards the woman at the pool table.
Dressed similarily, yet without the hat - Arctan's clothes look like they don't get much use. He's quiet, but his eyes roam everywhere. Paranoid perhaps, he didn't get where he was by not looking about and making sure things were safe. Though at times, one needed to relax a little too. As they step in he figures they'd get a drink or two and relax some, but when Tai starts on about someone Arctan looks, his young eyes spot someone who he didn't recall. Yet there were pictures… oh yes! The officer they were looking for… he stays quiet but only gives a nod, the seedy bar not a place he always preferred to be at. Whatever Tai had in mind though, he followed.
"I have a destiny," Loknar replies to Ona, dangerously leaning back on his stool. In his left, he still clutches on his toy composite bow, as always. "Went to the Sorceress an' she told so. The Gods're on /my/ side… oh lookathat." From behind his cool googles and through his trinketed dreadlocks, it seems the black man did not miss Taija's arrival. "Can ya get the color of her eyes, Ona?" he asks his colleague. "Ah, she ain't alone. Gettin' interesting."
"Destiny? That is just a bull of.." Here eyes follow towards the woman he points out and her emerald eyes narrow. "Dark..that is all I can see from here. Guessing brown." She syas to Loknar before looking back at him. But her gaze flickers back to the woman with a furrowing of her brows, watching them stare at her. "What the frel is her problem, she's coming this way." Shifting, she reaches forward for the shot put before her, downing it with a sway. She smirks a bit, settling it to the bar as she leans forward. "You like green too much, Lok.." She says sweetly and gives him a glance of her gaze from the corner of her eyes.
Taija barely glances to Goggles. She just flickers a smile at him and continues over towards the pool table with a pointed look to Arctan: Ona has an escort. At least one. Her eyes settle back to Ona on the approach and she stops at the other side of the pool table. There might have been a glimmer of a smile but everything falls to passive when there's no recognition there. What the stinkin high hell is this!? The Spectre clears her throat. "'Scuse me. Hey, my name is Cherise. Have we met? You look so familiar. ..I mean, you ever spent time on Tatooine? Maybe turned an eye towards it at some point?" There's something pointed about what she asks.
Arctan follows suit, looking about the bar area, walking up to the bar at a free spot not too far away as Taija asks her questions. Before he heads away he gives her another nod, but simply leans over to the bartender to get some corellian whiskey… the good stuff in shots. If anything was going to happen he wanted to have the liquor in him before it all went down. Leaning up against the bar he watches the exchange a bit down the way, the black man only observed but nothing more. He was there for his drink already!
"I like green," Loknar confirms, his tone stubborn like a chided child's. He smiles a savage smile back at Taija, flashing his bad teeth. "Ya know her?" he then asks Ona. His right hand ignores the new shooter, going for a pant pocket instead. A plastic baggies, not so transparent now with all the use and grime, shows a content of red salt. Loknar wets his fingertip and fishes for crystals, then licks it off his finger. "Want some? Vision duts. Grows on rock by the giant frogs pound," he offers Ona.
Considering Taija as she talks to her Ona, wrinkles her nose at the offer and shakes her head. "thanks, but no thanks.." Murmurs the woman. "I have no clue who you are.." she says without looking back from leaning over the bar, tapping it for another. Filling her shot again, the Commander downs it and tips her head back. "Pretty sure I have not been to Tatooine, at least not by choice." She smirks. "Sorry, got the wrong woman, Cherise." She says and twirls her glass between her fingers, giving her weight to the bar.
Dorn has arrived.
Taija is looking to Ona until the man approaches and offers up something from a plastic bag. The other woman turrets her head and growls at Loknar. "Keep that shit away from her. Have some damned respect, why don't you?" She barely holds his eyes one second and looks back towards Ona. "Commodore Ona Delamont?" Her head tilts to the side, the words barely even murmered as if trying to get a reaction from a whisper. "You don't remember this face? We had a conversation once. One on one. We got into a fight. There were cookies." The darkside always had cookies.
Cookies… amazing that Taija could talk about cookies in a place like this! Arctan chuckles as the shots come. He turns to pick them up, handing one over to where Taija is standing. The dust is noted that the man wanted to give Ona; he didn't really enjoy the stuff and thought Ona was wise to turn him down. Taija didn't take it lightly, and the marine knew well that she had a good point in doing so. Maybe this shot would help her that he offered silently. Taking his own he downs it while he holds out the other.
Loknar chuckles openly at Taija's outburst. He puts his bag'o'dust away, bending even more than his usual slouch, then returns to his full lazy might. "I guess ya ain't tough 'nough for it 'nyway. Takes a man to live up this good stuff," he brags, this time adressing both women. He gives the misterious man a glance, maybe asking for manly approval. "C'mon, Ona. The lil' gal jus' is tryin' to get hurt. I pay ya the next round," he adds, putting his long right hand on Ona's shoulder.
Emerald eyes narrow over her shoulder and she openly studies 'Cherise' or Taija as it would be. "Riiiight, and Loknar here is the Justice of Corellia." she laughs a little, snorting at the possibility. But there is a look of doubt in those green depths before her eyes lift towards Loknar as he touches her. "Another round sounds nice." She starts to ignore the two nercomers that are studying her. She's already got that drunk haze, swaying in place a little at the bar as she leans in towards Loknar. "Pull that dust back out." She instructs.
Striding casually into this bar, probably the one that they had been at the last time when things went… awry… comes a Wroonian, hands thrust into his pockets and a half-smile spread on his lips. He paces between patrons and dodges his way up to the bar where, as he was told, could be found a few of his comrades. But rather than a raucous addition to the others, Dorn frowns and slips in at the end of the line of folks, murmuring, "Nah. Keep that dust careful." He doesn't look up at Loknar, but there is no rude tone in his words. Past his squadron mate, he calls faintly to Ona with, "So this is clean, is it?" A faint smirk is on his lips once more.
Its about this time a short guy about five-foot five walks in, his eyes immediately scanning who is around he heads over towards Arctan and sidling up to the bar. He seems to have a rather permanant scowl to his face. Taija glances to him and nods before looking back to the other two, specifically Loknar first. "Please. You're dumb enough to think that's a positive with the looks to back up the intelligence level. Back off frakstick. This doesn't concern you or your caliber of brainpower. Go-" Taija makes a shoo'ing motion with her hand, "-eat some crayons or something." She takes the shot from Arctan and downing it quickly before looking at Ona once more. "Not a chance. I know her. If I don't know you then how do I know about your pains. That deep bone cold of nerves that took a hit?" She steps between Ona and any dust that may be produced, shoving if she has to. "Look me in the eye with your one good one and tell me what we haven't sacrificed together, Ona. What we did together. That never happened?"
Arctan slides the last shot over to their other companion. It probably would be the only one he got at this pace, his eyes glancing over to Taija and Ona… so this was her plan? To fight them all and take her? Well, it'd at least have a thrill in it he thinks. He wasn't the tactical one; he was added manpower, though his size wasn't anything near these others. He was fit and toned, but in strength he may lack… yet when it came to weapons on the other hand, that was a different story entirely. He thinks about what might happen, preparing himself mentally for it.
Keeping his hand on Ona for balance, Loknar bends again, his dreadlock trinkets clicketing against the hardened shoulders of his antiquated spacesuit. "Hang on…" he announces, before coming back with the dust, face to face with Dorn. "Hey Dorn. When ya got in here dude?" he greets his flight mate. He passes the bag to Ona, smiling with the obliviousness of a man who don't give a flying poodoo about women arguments. "So you do go way back, dudesses. I had a feelin' 'bout it. Spirits told me. They do that, Spirits."
"As clean as it gets for the moment blue boy. Give me a few more days." She smirks reaching for the bag of dust before she is shifted away from Loknar by the intervention of Taija, Ona takes a side step and nearly spills her new drink after having just taken it. Blinking, the Commander slams the glass down, her eyes holding - somewhat shocked on the woman's face. In silence she studies Taija aka Cherise and shudders. "Back the FREL OFF!" She yells at the other woman, giving her a hard shove as if to get her away. Something rings true because its causing the near human to shake a little, her hand rubbing her arm. "I -don't- know you. So go spouting your sentiments to someone else. I am sure whatever happened, did happen. But I'm not that person." She mutters, sidestepping again as the alcohol in her system gets the better of her. (speaking in Basic)
At the moment, the situation seems to be going into the negative, and Dorn quirks a brow at the sudden outburst from Ona. He looks between the several faces that seem to have formed sides and notes his own placement on one of them. Just for the trouble of showing off. "Dammit…" he mutters, rubbing his eyes. "Gonna pick a fight and I'm stone sober…"
Taija stumbles backwards a bit with the shove, possibly into Loknar. But she's back quickly to try and grab Ona by the lapels. "Commodore Ona Rei Delamont, Decorated Badass of the Republic Fleet." she growls into her face. "You know who the hell you are. What the crap is wrong with you, woman?! You don't remember everything??" She's incredulous. One hand reaches up to slap Ona across the face. "WAKEUP, TROOPER!!" She moves to start carrying the woman by the lapels away from the bar. "You're coming with me. I need you to meet a certain Jedi." Already the short guy who recently entered is grinning, stepping out from the bar.
Arctan nods to his buddy and stands up from the bar, tossing a few credits for the drinks to the bartender saying, "That's for the drinks, and a few more for the mess." Moving over to one side he steps up with his arms at his sides beside where Taija is pulling on Ona. He doesn't say anything, but he's there now should any of them try to stop Taija from what she was doing. It wasn't her best plan Arctan knew, but it was a plan. Aww frak… well, It'll be fun. For now he's at the ready, keeping tabs now on the third friend of Ona's party.
"Am high 'nuff for…" Loknar begins to say back at Dorn, when Taija bumps into him so fast he can't think of getting a feel of her bum or what. As Taija pushes from him, he sways… bam. Down on his bum. His usual vacant smile, it turns bad. "Okay, that'it. No broad pushes Loknar 'round," he grumbles, his heel skidding on the muddied plasteel floor tiles as he tries to gather his too long legs. "Ya'll get a spankin' I tell ya," he warns around. Finally, he makes it to vertical. He takes a step toward Taija, to try to slap her tush with a good upward swing.
As she is taken by the scruff, she growls and visibly her green eyes spark to life. Ona tenses and digs her heels in - Taija is not going anywhere with her. But as the slap come, more of her drunken manner is lost in the turn of her head with the connection. That's it. Her hand opens palm up and she slams it upward into one of Tai's wrists, meaning to weaken her hold as her right hand pulls back in a hard jab towards the Kuati's face. "I told you to leave me alone!" She hisses and she turns her body a bit to give that strike the momentum it needs. (speaking in Basic)
Lifting his gaze from the rubbing of the tips of his fingers, Dorn watches his comrades have at the poor woman in the middle. He stifles a laugh at Loknar's particular choice of assault, and turns to face the scuffle and leans an elbow on the bar. To the passing bartender (who is probably not thrilled just now) he beckons and passes an order for a drink. "I can't enjoy this without something first."
Did someone-? Yes. That just happened. Taija kicks like a mule, too, aiming right for Loknar's gut. Its just a bend at the waist and a flick of her leg behind her quickly. The move is enough for Taija to dodge out, unknowingly, from Ona's attempt to get loose. "Arctan! Nellis! Let's exfil at the speed of heat! Make a hole!" Yep, that's pilot slang. She's trying to drag Ona out any way she possibly can. "Goddamnit, Ona! What the bloody hell has gotten into you?! I'm trying to take you to your damned husband!" she growls into Ona's face once more.
Arctan didn't have to see that this was going south fast. He sees the man try to slap Taija - an action he couldn't stand for. Maybe he was afraid of what she would do if he didn't protect her, maybe he looked up to her, or maybe it was just what he was supposed to do. Answer to Ian? Yeah right! Watching things play out in front of him he fists his right hand and strikes out with a punch to Loknar's gut while all of it is playing out. Taija could scold him later, but this was going to get messy fast. Maybe he was going to get wrapped up before he could get away, but his boss wasd the main concern.
- Getting involved in female matters will only get you trouble.", Yiom the Sage of the Eggwomb Tribe from Endor. Loknar should have listened to his Ancestor's wisdom and for not doing it, he gets:
1) Ona's elbow in the nose as she swings about,
2) Taija's mule kick in the guts,
3) That dude's sucker punch over there in the ribs, 4) Another bruise on his butts for sitting down too hard again.
"Ow," he says betwen gasps for air, his nose dribbling with dark red lifefluid. His chest is already stained by blood and it keeps coming.
As she misses and her drunken ass starts to get drug outside, Ona growls and twists, trying to get free. "Damn it fool woman, let go of me!!! MY husband is on the Banshee, so unless you plan on taking me there I suggest you think again." She is drawing her leg up and aiming a knee towards the woman's stomach. "Damn it MARSHEL!" She says as if trying to signal him to get his blue butt in movement. As they all start to bump into others, there are growls and hisses in many tongues taht go up and the animosity begins to spread, a few other sentients throwing punches at each other.
Oh well. In that case. Wiping his lips on the back on his hand, and unable to wait for that blessed drink to actually arrive, Dorn curls his hands into fists and pushes off of the bar. Kicking a leg out, he sidesteps the falling form of Loknar and then steps past the place where he now sits on his bum, bleeding. "Up, Lok," the Wroonian states. And then takes a step to wind up and throw a right hook at the man who has appeared, who punched Loknar. Whoever he is. Who cares who he is? Dorn's gonna punch him for punching his pot-headed squadron mate. But what are families for, right?
"Yes, ma'am," he chimes in mid-execution of his attack.
This time Nellis just grins. Time to get to work. He steps up behind Dorn and grabs for his head to yank him backwards while throwing a knee as hard as he can up into the man's side. "Hands off, bucko!" Meanwhile Taija is still trying to hustle Ona towards the door. "What the hell are you on, dumbass??" Taija snarls at Ona. "Who told you that load of shit??" The her face drops with a realization. Oh sweet God. The knee lands but she just grunts it away. "I know who you are, Ona," she says breathlessly, desperation crawling in. "Stop fighting me!! I can help you, damnit!!" Still, she won't hit Ona again after the slap.
Arctan is hit by Dorn, though instead of turning to deflect it he's pushed into the way and is hit hard. He falls to the ground, knocked out. His form lands with a large thud and is nothing more than a heap of a form on the ground. He's slumped down… if he makes it out of this he's going to have one heck of a black eye from it all. Arms are splayed out, his eyes close and his mouth hangs open… drooling slightly mixed with blood.
Vision dust is kicking in, providing Loknar with the sight of slightly bent or warped boots scuffling about him. One boot gets too close of his face, he believes, so reflexively, he unsheathes his knife and stabs it to the floor. The owner of the boot squeals. Looking up, he thinks, 'This Rodian ain't gonna dance soon.' Unknownst to him, he may just have saved Dorn from a lowly backstab. Now with more clearance, he pulls himself up at the next furniture, wipes his blade at the pool table's green covering and resheats it. He sees Arctan fall to Dorn's attack an grins. Loknar licks the blood off his upper lip, sneezes blood all over the place and shakes his dread, still groggy.
Even as her kick hits, Ona finds that its not taken as much as she wished, merely shrugged off. "But I do not know you!" She screams, now being drug after even further, having lost her footing. "FREL!" She hisses, jamming her leg against a table and wincing. "CHerise, whoever the hell you are let me go!" Slavers. Thats it. She had to be a slaver. Ona gets desperate and instead of fighting Taija, she snakes her hand up to take the other woman's neck in hand and thrust her forward and trying to take her down to the floor or into the closest wall. As the two women tangle, Ona almost loses her feet but there is a moment when they hit a solid surface, whatever it is that her eyes widen and she shakes. Those emerald eyes seem distant and she gasps.
She's suddenly on the Inquisitor, in the holding cells and a uniformed Taija is beneath her hold against the floor and Ona leaning down over her.
The bar comes back into focus and emerald eyes seem to fill with 'Cherise' before her. Startled and unsettled, the drunken near human releases and takes a stumbling step back.
With his fist connected solidly, Dorn watches Arctan go down hard, shaking out his hand from the force of the blow. The Wroonian scowls at the scuffling between Taija and Ona, but his danger-sense tingles - okay, rather gets a forewarning by the hand that grabs at his head.
Dorn shoots his arm down suddenly and takes the brunt of the knee in the bicep, then hooks his elbow beneath Nellis' knee. With an abrupt yank, and a jumping shift of his weight, the Wroonian tries to pull the man's leg up and simultaneously flip him over to land on the ground… and then crash his own weight onto his assailant's body.
Taija tumbles backwards, slipping past a table and when they hit, her hands fall away. The hand on her neck and looking back up at Ona, she see's that look of startle as she looks back.. and Taija gives the woman a feral smile. "Fight to remember, Ona!!!" she cheers, scrambling to her feet even while the whole bar comes apart around them. The woman known as 'Cherise' moves closer with her hands out, nearly hunched forward but she isn't trying to grab the former Commodore. "On the ship??? I was in uniform! You weren't! I was trying to tell you everything would be alright!" She's edging closer but still not making an attempt to grab Ona. Meanwhile Nellis takes that block and tries to grab teh arm and swing it down towards the ground while he brings a knee up into Dorn's face.
Loknar sees it's two against Dorn; the women can't really kill each other for real anyaway, right? Right. Ignoring the pain in the middle of his face, he picks cue ball #? (darn alien notations), weighs it, aims, waits for an opening. Take that, whateverdude with the knee in my friends face (Nellis). He swings and releases the stone.
Backing up to stay away from the stalking Tai, Ona places a hand to her head and tries to shrug out the doubt that has already been inching and worming its way into her thoughts. She knows the woman, but she doesn't know how and cares to not admit it. Catchng her leg on a chair, she spins to the ground and feels a heavy foot crush into her shoulder. With a cry, she grunts and slams her fist into the meat of the sentients offending calf to send it away from her. She bites her lip and start to push herself up, trying to scramble back to her comrades and away from the door. She still was unsure whether or not that image was of a good standard. After all she had been at the woman's throat. But as she doesn't grab for her, Ona is having other moments of blanking out to images. The woman appears in them all and the Commander stumbles back into a Nikto, the repitlian turning to grab at her arm and throw her to the side.
Well, that didn't turn out so well. The force of Nellis' weight yanks Dorn down instead of his grand attempt at a powerslam. The Wroonian finds his face closing with the path of a different appendage. He grits his teeth and rolls, still falling, and the fabric of the knee brushes forcefully against his face. But still, the pilot falls to the ground. The dirty, yucky ground of a bar. Awesome.
The Wroonian rolls across more yucky floor and stands, now on the other side of a table. "Pardon," he says to the flustered patrons. He grabs one of their untouched drinks and tips it back. "Thanks."
With that, he strides away from Loknar, who seems to have Nellis under control. Closing the gap between where they are, and where Taija has gotten Ona, Dorn falcon-punches the Nikto's face off… then looks to the two women. "WHAT. THE HELL. IS GOING ON." He growls at them both. He makes no move to strike, fists clenched at his side and at the ready.
Taija is happy to let the woman remember. "Defection, Ona! We exectured it with your husband! Thousands of lives were saved!" She see's the woman stumble and is about to try and help her up when someone moves for her and Taija tries to shove them away. Rather than try to grab the woman again, she's actually.. protecting her?? "We fought together! We battled the worst! Look at me, Ona! You know my callsign! You've met my children!" Then as the Nikto grabs, Taija goes all out and swings a leg as hard as she can towards the lizard-things groin as Dorn moves for his own attack - who cares where the genitals may be. Its gotta hurt, right? She wheels on Dorn but doesn't move to punch him, she just holds up a hand to stop him in an almost quasi surrender stance. "WAIT!" Meanwhile, as Nellis is trying to deal with Dorn there's a.. Oh hell. He turns to look at the object growing larger in his vision. He tries to do some sort of judo-chop Matrix move to dodge and ends up head-butting the pool ball with his cheek. He just goes down with a crunch and a curse of spat blood.
The ground was cold, but nice. So nice that when Arctac revives he can taste things on his face that no being should ever have the pleasure of tasting. It about makes him retch all over the floor, but the adrenaline was still in him from the fight. It was an all out battle in here still! Pushing off the floor he shakes his head as he gets up off the ground. He sees the individual fights still and he's pissed… getting sucker punched by some other man, not his idea of fun… ahh frak it. Dorn was there and he swings this time at this man, aiming for the small of his back he lets out a low growl… he wasn't a happy camper.
*PEW*
"Awright, 'nuff's'nuff." With a bloody trickle of bloody blood running down his face, down his neck, his clothes, Loknar is looking at Arctan down the sight of his inherited blaster pistol. Some plaster crumbs fall amongst his braids, from the hole he shot in the ceiling just over. "Funny gal's right. Fight's over," he states, his voice coming all duck-like around his broken nose. "You, ya walk out with her, we walk out 'fter an' we say nobody's a coward or names. Make it honorable," he orders Arctan.
Maybe Loknar should check his own back. That hop-scothing on-footed Rodian? is right behind, about to dent his skull in with a mug for revenge.
As the Nikto digs his dingy gloves into her arm, Ona is jerked from her thoughts and as she feels momentum grow, she gasps. Her eyes blinking as the two forces converge to down the scaled and horned sentient. Falling to the ground with a groan, the Nikto doesn't attack but now Ona stands relatively in between Dorn and Taija. Her lips part and close, looking between them before her gaze darkens on Taija and she is about to say something when she see's Arctan. "DORN!" She yells in warning. With a renewed ferocity and the will to ignore all what she was given in images, she grabs for the man, meaning to swing him and throw him about to the ground, offering her back to Taija.
Unbeknownst to Arctan, he lands a blow in a place akin to the Achilles Heel. The fist lands squarely on the spot where the Wroonian bears a sensitive shock-prod welt from a particularly grumpy astromech aboard their ship. Dorn collapses as if the very nerves that keep his weight steady were clipped. He cries out and lands on his knees in front of Taija, partially paralyzed in the lower extremity. Through grit teeth, he says, "Heya…" to Taija, eyes then watching Ona move against Arctan.
"Lieutenant!!" Taija bellows in her best command voice after the blast shot. She levels one hand out, one finger at both Loknar and the kneeled Arctan. "Cease fire, goddamnit!! Both of you!" Yep, that's anger. Then Ona takes down Loknar and she -SIGHS!- A hand reaches inside her coat and produces her own blaster but its pointed towards the ground as she steps around Ona's back to stand in front of her. "Ona," she says, huffing a few breaths. "Quit acting like some brawling frakkin spacer and like the officer you are, damnit! Do I look like I'm farting around here like some slave-driving jerkwad looking for a victim?? I came in here looking for a drink and found my best friend shooting pool." Her breath finally caught, she just stands there.
His punch to Dorn's back has more than the desired effect and Arctan is suddenly shocked by how easy that one hit was that he doesn't even see that Ona grabs him and flings him away. He stumbles and tumbles through chairs and stools, eventually hitting his shoulder and neck on the support for a table, toppling it all and sending glasses crashing to the ground, shattering. He's knocked hard, but he's not out… though he's not going to be getting up for a few moments as the metal and wood is pressed into his back.
A shock, a tremor and the lights come out. Even the voices in his head shut up. He feels a bit of pain and lot of weakness run down his spine all the way to his extremities. He feels like falling into a bed of void. That's how it goes for Loknar. From outside Loknar, a Rodian knocked him cold and the black man is face down in the bar muck. The unnamed Rodian whees through his suckermouth in victory!
As she sends Arctan flying, Ona lifts her gaze to the blaster and then to Taija. "Get your men out of here." She says, trying to straighten up despite the wear of alcohol and rush of adrenaline. She wets her lips and gives the woman a long hard look. "Put your weapon away and leave.." The din of fighting is swarming around them and she nods to Taija. "I suggest you go." There is a threat there perhaps, but Ona's stable ground is slipping every damned day. This encounter is another reason for her to doubt but she stands her ground. "Go." She says again, apparently not going to go with the woman.
The Wroonian, after greeting Taija, then eyes the DL-44 that arrives on the scene. His 'heya' swallows back into his throat, and he collapses back onto his rump, a hand pressed gingerly at the small of his back where it only just begins to tingle with feeling again. Punched in the kidnet, dangit. Dorn looks up, relatively helpless at the moment, seeing if the force of will behind Ona's words will be enough to diffuse and end this brawl.
Though not likely, for the ruckus in the rest of the bar.
Taija returns the look. "If you were anyone else I would walk you out of here at gunpoint if I had to." Meanwhile Nellis is muttering something about the five second rule and teeth while trying to stand, swerving as he does so to hold on to the bar. There's blood down the front of his shirt and all over his chin. Taija holsters the blaster, shoving it back into the leather case. "I suggest you re-evaluate exactly what the hell you're doing, Ona." She takes a step closer to the Commodore, leaning her head in. "I saw that reaction. I saw what happened and I protected you while you were stumbling around here. Who are your friends in here, Delamont? The woman who just followed your orders to rehang the blaster? The same one who just threw down a bunch of facts you and I both know are true? You still want me to go while you stand there swayin in the breeze? Look at yourself." Taija looks her up and down. "The Ona I know would puke if she saw this." Her voice is biting, hard.
Arctan is slow to get up, but he's in no condition to keep fighting. With Nellis still pounding away and Taija doing her thing he's just as sweaty and bloody, his left eye swelling so bad he can't even open the eyelid. He stumbles a bit, falling over the table and chairs on the ground as he attempts a few times to actually stand. Taija was in much better shape, but he was determined to get up and make a final stand, but much closer to the door. He liked it over there; it was about time to go.
"Hmmm," is what can Loknar moan after returning to Mugheadland. Close to him is the lukewarm mucky floor of the Tipper Down cantina, hugging him with all the gravity nature provides. In his pockets is a Rodian's hand parsing whatever of value - not much, so, littering. Around them is people barfighting with chairs, fists, bottles and bootheels, total chaos. Over there, Dorn is down on his butt while Ona and Taija are arguing senselessly over the past, just like women always do. Arctan, Taija's ally, is making a good show of tactical retreat. But that is unknowned to Loknar, who is out for good.
Ona stands, facing Taija with Dorn on the ground next to them. Despite her drunken displeasure at this woman spouting things at her, the Commander of the Banshee is not abandoning her people. Wetting her lips, she lets out a long breath, blinking to focus. "Yeah, well. This Commodore you speak of?" She starts, studying Taija as she makes sure Dorn can get up to his own feet as the Cantina is all but exploding with movement and the ripples effects of their brawl. "Well I am not her…so then she can think what she wants about me." She smirks, swaying a little and then watching the holstered weapon the other woman had put away at her command. Doubt flashes in her emerald eyes and she reaches her hand down to Dorn should he need it. "I have my people to get out of here, and you have yours. I suggest we go before CorSec rears its ugly head."
Dorn waves away the hand, maybe clinging to some shred of pride. Or maybe not needing it. He pushes himself up, favoring the leg that is still streaming those ANNOYING tingles that come after something falls asleep. He limps gingerly to the nearest table to support his weight and turns to watch the barfight to see if it will turn into an uglier monster. "CorSec…" he spits.
Nellis is staggering over towards Taija, arm out as if he's looking to try and guide her. Or just to hold on to her. He's not quite there yet, trying to dodge people. But Taija looks almsot crestfallen even as the bar descends into the seventh circle of hell around them. "You are, Ona. I love you. I can even prove it." She reaches into her jacket and produces a small wallet, sadness on her face. She opens it just enough to flash something before an empty beer bottle sails through the air and crashes against the back of her head. DOOOOOWN goes Taija, crushing over the side of the table. Nellis grunts something, pushing past. He scoops up the wallet and the woman he was with, Taija barely cognizent of what the hell is going on after a hit like that while a little blood trickes down her neck. The short man helps her bicycle her legs towards the door as they disappear into the throng of the bar.
The stumbling form of Arctan moves over to Taija and Nellis and helps Taija along with Nellis, though to be sure he's more just there for moral support as he really can't see where he's going. There's too much else going on and there are more people coming… all he can think of is that he needs to get out of there. There's blood and sweat of his own that is dripping, but it's getting onto Taija as well as he tries to help. A good fight, to say the least, and they are off.
Counting shuttle tickets, Hopsctoch the freeloader Rodian hops for the exit through the roused crowd. His sucker wrinkles inside his face. He sways 180 degres, night falling in his big eyes. Finally, he falls across the bar with a broken bottle inserted between his third and fourth cervical vertebrae with a deflating baloon sound. When he slips along the bar's face, the shuttle tickets flutter to waste into the floor's goo.
As Dorn moves upward and to try to get to his feet, Ona starts to shift uncomfortably with sentiments spoken. As she sees whatever is flashed at her, she shifts, her brows furrowinga she blinks but the image is lost. She turns her head to watch the woman fall, nearly jumping forward to catch her as Lance is brushed against to try to do so. Her eyes lift to look up at him and she wets her lips, pausing as she drws her hands back. Taija is gathered up by the shorter marine and then their group starts to gather and retreat. She winces some and she shifts uncomfortably as the sentients bumble about, throwing items now. As another glass shatters on the ground near her feet, her lips part and she sways. "Lance.." There is worry in her gaze.
