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Byl ejected the gas cartridge and power cell, briefly inspecting the weapon before he collapsed it and stowed it back in the crate.
"Upon job completion, I'll give you the location and access keys to the storage area. I made it a point to keep the location discrete."
"Good. I'll contact you in 24 hours."
Byl nodded.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Sorsha. Keep me in mind for all of your future hardware needs."
With a coy wink, Byl left the company of the Vigo, and returned to his ship.
Maddox watched Byl take his leave, suitably impressed with the hardware and the whole presentation in general. Byl was a pretty cool customer.
Even more impressive to Maddox, though, was the fact that she was gonna get to go play shoot-em-up. And that right soon.
:: Sorsha walked back into the palace and handed the datafile to the armor clad guard with a wink ::
"See that this contract gets completed tonight."
She took the datapad and nodded, answering in a deeper voice thanks to the mask, "As you wish."
After her investigation was through, Sorsha would have her assassination.
Maddox hovered in silence, following the exchange. She was for the Vigo Kasijian a weapon that only needed to be drawn from its holster and put to good use.
:: Sorsha glanced at Bambi in a way that seemed to imply telepathy ::
"Time to move out. Let's do it."
:: Several Rodians mounted up on 74-Z speeder bikes as Sorsha entered one of the armored skiffs. Their destination was Mos Eisley ::
The armored figure move up behind Sorsha and respectfully bowed, the end of the force pike hitting against the sand. "The information that Laprovik provided. Shall I begin the transmissions now or come with you for the raid?"
Miranda was hoping for the later, but Sorsha had been insistent on her coming with.
The rodians reved their speeders to make a deafening din. Bambi grinned broadly at the racket. Loud and rowdy was just her style.
However, she restrained herself and kept her own speederbike idling beside the skiff. She was sure Sorsha would not appreciate her contribution to the cacophy right beside her as she spoke with the darkly amored guard.
"The contract has been made. Take care of it." she told the guard. Then she stepped on board the skiff.
She smiled underneath her helmet, elated that Sorsha hadn't forced her into going. The Rodians were hired to be the barbaric killers of Black Sun. Miranda Tarkin had talents that were put to better use elsewhere then possibly become injured, or worse, during this raid. She was no expendable.
"As you wish, Vigo Kasajian," she bowed and turned towards the compound. She was looking forward to doing her research on one Wilan Nelsin. There had to be many a delicious secret to be found.
Mos Eisley - Belryn Warehouse, Southtown
The warehouse was lit up like Christmas. Fluorescent lights flooded the huge space with unnatural light, garish, but functional.
Within was a hive of activity as the Chevin's worker scum unloaded his most recent shipment of contraband. Grans on repulsor lifts moved crates, stacking them up on rusty iron platforms, Trandoshans in their vulgar accents gave their guidance and cursed for their counterparts' awkward and unimpressive manuerings. The place was crawling with the unsavory rabble that naturally gravitate to such a life of thievery and crime.
Outside, Bambi looked to Sorsha, who nodded the go ahead.
Maddox fired off a repeater rifle shattering a line of windows along the upper level. Five rodians, armed with grenades sped along on their bikes behind the line of fire, tossing the deadly charges inside.
There was a millisecond of unnatural quiet as the inside occupants of the warehouse held their crouch for cover at the unexpected gunfire. Then a collective KA-BLAM! as the explosions ripped through the building.
Glass and debris burst from the warehouse seams, clattering onto the street, but the buidling itself remained in tact. Crashing through the warped front doors which were hanging by their hinges, Sorsha's blood hungry pack descended in a barage of screaming speederbike engines and wild gunfire. Terrorising in a frenzy of violence Belryn's lackeys, it was almost comical to see them scramble for their lives and attempt to draw weapons in some show of self defence. The few that had arms to hand were mowed down before they had a chance to aim, their targets moving with such frenetic speed that a good shot was only luck not skill anyway.
Maddox, blond hair in a stream behind her, looked a demon from hell - her one eye showing wild and scanning for her target.
But Belryn the slug was not there to be found.
:: The Rodians swept through the warehouse on their speeder bikes like a swarm of hornets, gunning down Belryn's thugs with minimal resistance. Their orders had been very specific. No Survivors ::
:: Sorsha stepped off of her personal skiff as explosions and gunfire filled up the warehouse all around her. She stood there, grinning in delight at the spectacle, and burst into laughter as Bambi blew off the top of a Gran's head just a few feet in front of her ::
"Love that!!!" :lol
:: She clapped her hands in applause ::
After making a clearing round of the place, making certain no one missed their appointment with the reaper, Bambi stood before Sorsha.
"The Chevin's not here."
:: Sorsha gazed around at the carnage ::
"I didn't think so ..."
:: Her attention shifted to an explosion in the back of the warehouse ::
Maddox jumped at the loudness of the bang, yet at the same time placed herself protectively between Sorsha and possible harm from the origin of the explosion. The act was automatic and came as a natural reaction.
"The whole place could go up. Who knows what they got lyin' around back there." Maddox seamed eager to move on.
"We got any idea where Belryn could be?"
:: Sorsha watched the fire burn with the smile of an arsonist upon her lips ::
"I imagine he must be running."
The mental image of the fat Chevin actually running brought an instant laugh.
"Well then, we got plenty of time. Hah!"
The rodians were rumaging about the place, looking for personal booty, but Maddox had no interest.
"Belryn got himself a house out this way maybe we can hit? Catch him sipping his evening port - Bring him the sad news that his warehouse burnt down?"