Cloud City, Bespin
Right Outside of Boon's Casino and Bar, Level 37

The assassin's breathing slowed - there was no sound. He focused on his target; a young man whose age was astounding for all the exploits he was renowned for. Sarin didn't mind; thinking about the target's personal life - their age, family, relationships - just made the job harder. Pity. Only fools pitied fools - Sarin's rough philosophies often made him a harder man to crack.

The man was getting ready to enter the cloud taxi. Sarin smirked. When individuals were entering vehicles, they were very vulnerable, and asking for death. The silent killer squeezed the trigger tighter...

...tighter...

The trigger stopped - it had gone as far as possible.

Yet nothing happened. Orus frowned as he pulled the sniper towards his sharp eyes. Damnit... What the frak is wrong with it?

"Did you jam it?" spoke a feminine voice next to him. "I thought you said you checked everything."

Sarin looked up, glaring. "I can't help it if you can't hold a damn sniper right."

"Wasn't my fault I dropped it. You didn't strap it tight enough on my back."

Sarin rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh as he quickly continued fixing it, his nimble fingers sliding over everything, making it all perfect. He had done this all his life, it was nothing new. Sera, his partner, watched his fingers move, her pupils flashing in every direction as they tried to match the speed of his fingers.

"Done." muttered the sniper as he set it up again, looking through the scope again. "Damnit."

"You took too long talking and not working, moron." frowned Sera as she studied the area that use to hold the cloud taxi and their target. Sarin sighed, taking the sniper apart again.

"Can we get logs of where they want?"

"They would ask questions; ones we can't answer."

"Frak."

"Tell me about it." muttered the female as she closed her eyes. What was she thinking of? She was planning - something she was usually good at. Sarin and Sera never lost a second time... heck, they usually didn't lose the first. "Good thing I set that explosive on there."

Sarin smirked. "We get less money if we take his head there without a body."

"Who says the head will remain in on piece?" Sera mocked her partner. Sera was Sarin's only actual friend - someone he could kid with. "Where are we going now?"

Sarin looked down at his datapad. "Well... we need to collect our bounty. After that, we're going to some guy on Pydyr. Apparently he wants some mercenaries."

Sera nodded as she stood up. "Let's get going."

Dalai, Selonia, Corellian Sector
Dreema Noowood's Estate

"There's not many inhabited islands here. Every once in a while a rich individual will come by and build a whole estate on one of the islands. When Dreema came here, he named the island which his estate resided on Dalai after his mother. He's pretty rich." Sera knew way too much. Sarin never cared about his client's history, but when Sera dealed with them, she went in-depth, taking everything and running home. She was amazing.

Their YT-2550 rattled as it rocked down into the personal hangar of Dreema Noowood's estate. The top of the hangar slid closed, making a loud grunting sound as the two sides slid into the middle to meet each other. It was really loud. Sarin let the engines die down, but didn't turn them completely off, just in case a quick escape was needed.

The two ambled out of the large, heavily modified ship. Dreema was standing shortly away from them with a group of gruff men to his sides and behind him - bodyguards. The two groups stared at each other - no one breaking the silence.

"It sounds like you guys need some maintenance on your hangar doors." Sarin spoke, trying to break the awkward silence.

Dreema got the idea, and started to speak himself. "Where is Boon?"

Sera looked over to Orus, who said nothing. "He's dead, just like you wanted."

Dreema's eyes widened, and his mouth fixed into a snarl. "Damn you! I said I wanted him alive - not dead!"

Sarin arched an eyebrow, pulling out his datapad. He clicked through it, looking at the personal objectives he had set up for himself and the briefing the Twi'lek had given him, when he found it, his eyes brightened. "Actually... you said dead or alive. Now give us our credits and we will be off."

Dreema sighed as he let his chin rest on his collar bone. Sarin saw his pupils moving from side to side. "You should've known that I needed him alive."

"No - you told us to ask no questions. How could we have known anything?" snarled the Almanian.

"I assumed you were great spies. How would I know you weren't spying on me? Therefore, you would know the information."

Sera rolled her eyes, and Sarin clicked his tongue in agitation. Sera decided she better say something, Sarin's tolerance level in arguing was low - and it usually ended up with brains splattered on the ground. "Why would you assume we would spy on a client? We never would have time. You saw us leave immediately after the briefing, and you met us directly upon disembarking our ship both times we have landed in one of your hangars."

"I fail to see your reasoning here." grumbled Dreema stiffly. "I ask that you leave now. I will not pay you for doing a faulty job."

Sarin let his mouth gape into a snarl.

Kill him now! chanted a voice in his head. A fool like this doesn't deserve to live.

Sera met his eyes - she knew what he was thinking. She made a small nod - barely recognizable as one. Sarin looked at Sera and shrugged, walking back to his ship's entrance. He let his hand slide to his holster which held his DL-44. Sera's E-11 was just inside the door of the ship. Sarin would shoot Dreema first to occupy the bodyguards from her so she could finish them off with her rapid-fire weapon's large fire area.

...Pew!

The shot ran right through the collar bone of Dreema Noowood. His bodyguards went into instant action, but Sera was quick as ever. She had grabbed her E-11 and launched out a flurry of energy bolts into the bodies of the bodyguards. All six of them went down. Sarin walked over, letting spittle fall onto the face of Dreema's face. "No one ticks me off and lives."

Sera smirked, her hands on her hips. "Ready to go to Pydyr?"

"Let's first get this idiot's money. It needs to go somewhere, and our pockets are the most worthy."

"Let's hurry then." Sera said as she quickly went to work.

"Do you think it's a Fallanassi hiring us?" Sera said, not taking her eyes off the bank account they had placed the money they had recieved in. "I wonder what they would give us."

Sarin shrugged lightly, appearing as if he hadn't even noticed she had spoken. "I don't see what a Fallanassi would need from two mercenaries. Those magic freaks don't care about the space around them... but then, I could be wrong."

Sera looked up, eying her partner closely. "It's weird that the client didn't offer a name - only an address."

"I noticed." Sarin wanted to talk to her, it's just he didn't like people who stated the obvious constantly. It got on his nerves. One of the few he had. "Alright, are you ready? I am."

Sera looked out, closing her eyes and sighing lightly. She appeared in distress. Sarin didn't know whether to help or not. "Er... is there anything wrong, Sera?"

Sera quickly opened her eyes, surprise stricked on her face. "What? No! Well... I don't know... it feels like this may be our last mission. I don't know, I just feel like we won't see each other again."

Orus didn't know what to say, but decided to play it cool. He quickly snorted, acting as if he paid no heed to the words. "It's alright, Sera. We always pull through successfully in missions. It's our job."

Sera looked away, her distress still being magnified in her eyes. She didn't want to worry Sarin. "Sera?"

She looked up, her face seeming to be confident, but the pain in her eyes didn't go away. "Yes, I am sorry... Let's go now, though. Best to get through the mission."

Sarin nodded in acknowledgement. He was a bit surprised at her ability to quickly hide her emotions - somewhat. The two stood up, walking out of the cockpit, attempting to escape the awkwardness that their previous conversation had brought upon the two. As they stepped out, a man quickly ran to them.

"What the-?" Sarin grunted as the man slipped the note into Sera's hand and ran off. "I think our client wants to keep something secret."

Sera nodded as she slipped her thin, pink-nailed finger into the note, pushing into it. She read the note a few times to herself, and then handed it over to Sarin.

Greetings,

Meet me in Dawn Layne's Joint. It's south of your current position. Bring no one.

Good luck!

Sarin looked at Sera, she grinned and sarcastically replied. "I think you're right. This guy certainly doesn't want anyone to know about this-"

"-not even us."

Sera continued to hold her 'ear-to-ear' grin. "Well, he does want us to know what we're doing. I doubt we'll hear any full stories."

Sarin chuckled lightly as he started to walk south. "Good. I like it when they don't talk."

Sera rushed forward, meeting his side. "If it were up to you, no one would have mouths!"

Sarin shrugged. "Mouths can be good for some things."

"Let's get a move on, then. The way we're going everyone will think we're crazy!"

Sarin smirked and then with a sober expression replied. "They wouldn't be too far off."

The two had walked up a large hill and between many medium-sized buildings until they had made it to the entrance of Dawne Laynes'. The entrance was strange - a very large door with all kinds of designs on it. It seemed as if someone had taken a large chisel and worked out swirls and dots, all complimenting each others' positions and taking a whole new beautiful form that made the two feel tranquililt, peace and most of all - a whole new energy.

"I didn't expect this." Sera muttered, her long hair stretching further down her back as her head laid back as she attempted to studythe top of the door. "Whoever made this door was a true artist..."

Sarin nooded - agreeing in silence for speaking seemed as if the seal the door have provided for him would go away. He had never felt this good in his life - and he had never even noticed art in this way before. Dawne Layne must have a good business. Or... Maybe Dawn Layne was the client? It was possible, but it wouldn't be good secrecy to hold a meeting in your own lot.

As Sera's head continued to move slowly in many directions, Sarin placed his fist onto the door several times - knocking in a rhythmic pattern. He didn't know why he did it. Maybe the door affected him? It was possible - he did feel a lot more better upon being near - and recognizing the beauty of it.

Sera was quickly startled by the knock, as if she was in her own world and someone had just pushed her back into reality. The two stood there though, stock still and both still staring enviously at the door. What was so amazing about it?

After a few more seconds of wait - the door slid open. No one was in the entrance, but that wasn't unusual. The two mercenaries strode in through the door, their eyes slowly adjusted to the dimmer lights of the building. Before them, a long, dim corridor stretched out - smelling sharply of wet mud. Sera breathed in quickly through her mouth, kidding about the smell.

The two walked through the tunnel. As they walked, moss massaged the soles of their feet, and as they got farther in, Sarin realized that the walls covering the corridors' sides were bark with mud painted all over them. This whole building was strange. Sarin hadn't seen any metal or electronic since entering. He made his way through, as Sera stumbled somewhere up. She looked at him and made a lop-sided smile. "The moss snatched the back of my foot."

Sarin rolled his eyes as he started to speed up again. "You're a mess. You know that, right?"

Sera shrugged. "Just depends when you see me - and how you interpret my actions."

Finally, they saw a large bright light - and under it a man smoking a thick piece of paper smelling strongly of tobacco. The man pulled the cigar out and made a toothy grin. "Why! Hello there!"

Sarin looked over to Sera, raising a questioning eyebrow. She seemed alright with a smelly man, with few teeth, and the ones that remained were yellow-covered. He also seemed surprised to see them. Surely this couldn't be their client.

"Hello." muttered Sarin loud enough for it to be recognized as a word.

The man continued to hold his grin as he stepped a bit closer to the mercenary-pair. Sarin quickly placed his hand over the gun on his holster. Instinct. Reactions. Sarin wanted to survive, therefore, he was always ready to fight to do so.

The man got his hand and swung his hand limply, dismissing Sarin's idea of shooting him through the head. "Do not shoot, for I am your client. Besides, you're surrounded by all my troops and turrets. Plus, I have five of my elite squads in the hangar in which your ship resides in. They could always blow it up and finish you two off."

Sarin smirked. He always liked a guy who had everything planned - whether he was bluffing or not. The mercenary lifted his hand off of the hilt of his blaster, and placed his hands behind his back, folding them lightly just in case quick movement with them was needed. Sarin waited for the man to continue.

"I am sure both of you know of Jesh Tolli?"

Sarin cocked his head a bit. "Not personally, but I have heard that he exists. A smuggler, right?"

The man laughed. "Hardly! He's actually the head of the Smuggler's Alliance. A group of blaster-happy smugglers who have swelled egos. Anyways... I want Jesh Tolli in this same exact corridor as us. I have some questions for him."

Sera quickly got up. "What do you want with him?"

Sarin quickly squeezed Sera's shoulder, reminding her asking questions wasn't needed.

"Do you know where we can find him?" Sarin quickly interjected, attempting to get Sera's lack of self-control out of the stranger's mind.

The man chuckled lightly. "Oh... I have a few ideas..."

The cantina he set foot in was dirty. No, dirty didn't even describe it. Compared to dirty, this was a disaster area. What was (presumably) a tile floor had been completely covered in dirt. The walls were covered in blood and the tables weren't even wiped off: They were covered in a disgusting mixture of food, sauce and dirt. Just as badly, nearly a hundred bodies were crammed into a space that would normally accommodate half that number due to the after work rush.

All in all, it was the perfect place to discuss a little bit of "business." And there, in the far, right corner of the room in a booth partially recessed behind a moisture evaporator, placed there both to pick up moisture evaporated off of drinks, and to encourage the sort of meetings just like he was about to take part in, was his client. Wealthy visitors were never bad for a bar's business, even if they made their money by less than legal means.

It also didn't hurt that the serving of alcoholic beverages was outlawed. If you've broke one, you might as well break a few more. Harboring a fugitive from justice didn't carry a very stiff penalty anyway, and a rich criminal kingpin and the sometimes dozens of guards, contacts, and enforcers they brought with them generated plenty of business.

Everybody won in this case.

After eying his contact for a moment, Jesh almost wanted to throw up at the coming discussion. He'd never liked Nemodians; they always reeked like rotten day old fish, and looked about as nice as they smelled to his eyes. And that bumbling way they talked, almost their words were tripping over each other trying to get out of that filthy mouth, made him want to carve out his eardrums with the vibroknife on his side.

But he was a man who knew how to close a deal, and being openly disgusted with your client's species was the easiest way in the book to make them go somewhere else. With a smile, he sat down

A quick glance around made him note four other Nemodians in the cantina directly in sight. They would be the one's to watch. In addition, there was probably a human or two also here to guard their boss, with the Nemodians serving not only as guards, but the easiest guards to identify so that you'd hopefully overlook the others. The oldest trick in the book.

He resisted the urge to look at his three escorts, which might give them away to his client. Since humans were so common in the galaxy that same-species trick didn't work with human smugglers--everyone, though especially humans, had human henchmen, and since humans had spread like a weed across the galaxy since they'd developed spaceflight, they were as common as dirt.

Still, it didn't hurt to hedge your bets when there was a chance you could come up short. The Defel in the corner, invisible to all the species currently in the bar, was his hedge.

"Greetings, my friend. What can the Smuggler's Alliance do for you today?"

Sarin pressed the button on his datapad again - maybe there was something in the briefing he had missed that would help. It was unlikely - but the two mercenaries were desperate. Next to him, he saw Sera checking their list of contacts they had accumulated over the years.

Sera lifted her head up and sighed in frustration. "I can't find anything in this list. I think I am going to do some cross-referencing with the most recent meetings he has had. Maybe Layne gave us something useful."

Sarin ignored her - he would reply once the briefing recording ended. He didn't want to miss anything - and he knew if he didn't listen all the way through he would miss something. Sera understood what he was doing and quickly closed her mouth, pulling out the other list Layne had given them. Finally, the recording of the briefing ended, and Sarin replied.

"Why not check out all the people who hold relations with him? Maybe one knows where he is."

Sera nodded lightly, her pressed between sheets of flimsi then flipped them over - reading the new page. All of the sudden, her eyes flashed with excitement - she looked up at him. "He has ties with Black Sun - or at least... the Smuggler's Alliance. Why didn't we know about this though?"

Sarin shrugged. "What kind of ties? Maybe we had both already left by then, or his business with the Black Sun was for leadership-eyes only. There's many possibilites why we "couldn't" have known about it. Or maybe we did."

Sera raised an eyebrow, cocking her head in inquiry. "How so?"

Sarin shrugged. "Maybe we did know about it - perhaps it just slipped our train of thought."

Sera chuckled lightly. "It's a possibility. I never saw you as a forgetful person though. Your memory is immortal, it seems sometimes."

"If you say so." mumbled Sarin, picking some flimsi of his own and looking through it. After looking for a bit, he motioned to it with his hand and looked at Sera's curious face. "Are these his contact logs?"

Sera nodded slightly. "It lists all his meetings as well."

Sarin grinned. "Excellent. Because I just found out our friend, Jesh is on Pydyr."

"Here? How'd you find out?"

"This flimsi is all of Dawne Layne's information about other businesses around here. Apparently two Nemoidians - wealthy ones, of course, or this wouldnt have been logged down - reserved a booth in the cantina down the street. They're meeting someone important."

"How do you know it's Jesh?"

"Why else would Dawne have it down on a flimsi? He most likely figured it was Jesh, himself."

Sera closed her eyes, her mind most likely racing in though analyzing the information Sarin had just offered. "It sounds too fishy."

Sarin smirked. "Of course, Nemoidians are involved."

Sera sighed lightly - she wasn't amused. Maybe she was upset again? Possibly. "Sarin, er - nothing. I think you might have a point here."

The male mercenary thought of questioned Sera again what was truly wrong - but decided against it. "Excellent, then. Let's get moving."

Sera nodded as she stood up, walking ahead and exiting the dock. Sarin quickly followed in stride. If this wasn't Tolli, then he had a few back-up ideas as well. He was sure one of them were Jesh - one of them had to be. It all fit in - the ideas worked and weaved together well.



The walk went rather quickly - maybe the two were just trying to get away from the awkward silence that had build around them as the walk went on. That, or the cantina wasn't that far. Sarin figured it was both. He quickly stalked up, pressing the door. He didn't want to stop and work a plan out with Sera - it would be suspicious - and even if it wouldn't be suspicious he didn't know if he would have the guts to talk to her.

As they walked in - a certain individual caught his eye instantly - something he had learned to do ages ago. A red-haired man sat in a corner with two Nemoidians, talking lightly, but confidently. He seemed to know what he was doing.

Sarin continued to walk up, hunching over onto a chair and waiting for the bartender to come. He watched Sera skip the seat next to him and sit on another. It embarassed him - he didn't know why - and it seemed to hurt him more than it should have. What was going on?

The bartender walked in front of Sarin and grunted. "What will it be, newcomer?"

"Polanis Ale - could you add a bit of Juma juice in it too and some water? I don't want to get too drunk." Sarin didn't like his joke - it was loud and stupid. Why had he said it? Was he slipping? He looked over to Sera, who had tears slowly streaming from the corners of her eyes. Sarin felt his stomach squeeze into itself tightly and his heart seemed to get stabbed. What was going on? Why did he feel that?

Sarin decided he needed to stop thinking of Sera - his job was more important. He quickly looked up towards Jesh Tolli, hiding his gaze. Sarin quickly noted that the individuals in that booth were all relying on the bodyguards in tha cantina to keep them safe. Sarin knew Jesh recognized that he was staring - it was just that he didn't want to look at a guy decorated with weapons, hidden gear, combat armor, and a fighter-look. Sarin envied the man for that - he was smart.

In his ear he heard a voice. Not supernatural, or a man behind him, but from a radio transmitter. The message originated from one of his guards.

"Two mercs just entered. Heavily armed. One's looking at you."

He reached down, making sure his DC-17 blaster was in the holster. Nobody had touched it since he sat down, but it's cold, metallic feel reassured him.

He'd killed many a man with that blaster, and if he had to he'd do it again.

As Sarin sat drinking, he noted the individuals who kept on glancing at him out of the side of their eyes. It was obvious who they were - bodyguards. For who, Sarin didn't know, but he figured it was for the big smuggler boy. He didn't mind though, he wasn't planning on killing anyone. He just sat and watch - no longer hiding it since it was quite obvious that Jesh had been informed that he was watching.

Tolli continued to talk to the Nemoidians, they seemed glad about something. Sarin kept noticing that Tolli's hand occasionally slipped down to his survival pack - in the area of his holster. Maybe touching a blaster reassured people they had a chance of surviving. It didn't for Sarin - when he touched a blaster, he wasn't reassured people had a chance at survival. He didn't want that chance to be allowed either - it was death. Only dead were enemies - bounties - targets - any good. Killing was his business - he liked it most of the time.

Sarin kept peeking over at Sera. He should've known she wasn't going to remain sober. She was a complete alcoholic. Something Sarin couldn't imagine being. She was laughing and crying, and occasionally laying her head back down and pretending to snore. She was a sight for sore eyes. Sarin almost pitied her she looked so bad.

Sarin remained in his seat. Watching his prey, his predatorial instincts constantly reminding him of his goal.

"Sir?"

Sarin woke from his hypnotic staring. He turned around to see a new bartender - a younger one, around his early twenties. "Yes?"

"Are you going to have anything to drink? If not, I ask that you leave this seat, at least. It's for individuals whom are drinking."

Sarin smirked. "I will have a Corellian Ale, remember to put some water in it too."

He wasn't going to drink it. He didn't want to end up like Sera - especially during a job. All of the sudden, there was a light bang as someone fell off their stool and onto the floor. Sarin's instincts warned him not to look, but his curiosity took the better of him. Sera's unconcious body laid on the ground, people looked down from their stools and chuckled a little, but then turned back towards drinking.

The bartender sighed in agitation. "Could someone sweep her out onto the street or something?"

No one stood up. Sarin felt bad - why didn't he help her? Was he embarassed? Finally, a man walked over, reaching down reluctantly. Just as his hands started to wrap around her waist and neck, Sarin launched forward, grabbing his wrists. "You're not going to touch her, filth."

What was he doing? He was in a mission. He was risking it, just for another person. Sarin wrapped his arms under Sera's light, limp body and lifted, walking out of the bar and heading in the direction of the ship. He needed to hurry, or Jesh would get away in time. Orus picked up pace - the ship was in his view. Sarin looked down at Sera's face - it was very pale now. He pitied her. Why had she drinken so much?

As he reached the ship, he placed her onto her bed in her quarters. He quickly rushed out, running quietly towards the cantina again, not wanting to miss his chance at Jesh.

Halfway there... Right over the hill was the cantina. Sarin could now see it as he crossed over the hill, rushing down. Five men exited the cantina, all of them had the gruff stature of bodyguards. One of them looked up towards the hill Sarin was running on. He pointed, and Orus saw the others look as well. They all - in perfect synchronization - pulled out their blasters, rushing up the hill. Sarin pulled out his DL-44, rolled down towards their left flank and opened fire. Lights blazed on both sides. Sarin saw Jesh rush out of the cantina too. It was an ambush. It was planned. Sarin had fallen for it too. Now...

... It's personal.

Rushing outside the Cantina, he turned around the corner to the parking lot. Sitting in the front seat of his speeder--a late Naboo security force model-- was one of his bodyguards, with another in the back. He made sure he recognized them both--he always did this to make sure nobody had switched his with their own thugs in an effort to kidnap him--and then he jumped in, blaster in hand.

"Business was interrupted by Mercs. My men shot first, taking down one of them with a simple stun blast. The other fled."

"To the ship then. We'll radio ahead to make sure Alliance troops are standing by and so that nobody's sneaking around."

In the back, the other bodyguard lifted up one of the seat cusions, revealing an E-web repeating blaster he fixed to a monopod placed on the back of the speeder. Anybody who wanted to mess with them would be in for a nasty suprise. One hit by that thing and any speeder and it's occupants would be goners. Further back, outside the cantina entrance, his five bodyguards were
moving into another Smuggler's Alliance speeder, and the man already in the back of it already was setting up it's E-web. Two jumped into this speeder, two in the other, and they were off to the spaceport.

They had turned around and it seemed they'd get away fine when they had just begun going up the hill between the spaceport and the cantina, when, right there in front of them, there he was!