- Joined
- Sep 30, 2011
- Messages
- 4,190
- Reaction score
- 250
Sonny Mills shot the ceremonial guards a cold glance from behind his dark sunglasses, as he held up his arms. They relieved him of his large calibre slugthrower, placed in a leather holster under his left shoulder, and made sure he didn't carry any other weapons. When they were finished, one of them nodded to him, indicating to follow them. They walked through the gold painted corridors of the Davip Palace. The place was enormous - not very strange considering the man and bloodline that owned it.
He didn't know a lot about his employer, except for what he had heard from other men like him. Davip was supposed to be a cold and calculating man according to some. A ruthless killer according to others. He had dealt in drugs and loan sharking before. In time he had acquired a Letter of Marque, and become a Lord-Captain of Corellia. Sonny didn't know what that meant, though it was probably very important in the right circles. He didn't care either. Torc Davip had hired him to track down a particularly elusive indebtee that owed Davip money.
Sonny had done just that. But taking action against the man had never been part of the deal. Davip had paid only for him to find him.
"Master Davip. Mr Mills have arrived." Mills removed his sunglasses as he stepped past the guard, and tucked them into the neck of his turqoise shirt. It was accompanied this day by an expensive gray sharkskin suit, the sleeves rolled up to just under the elbows to allow him to easier pull his firearm. A prison tattoo in the form of a clawcat with three blood red stripes across its body, was visible on the inside of his left wrist. Its significance was that of three "clean" assassinations in prison, though few people outside the walls of the detention center knew what it meant. On his right wrist was an expensive golden wristwatch.
"I've found your man." He said, going straight to business, his voice rough, dry and short. "He's in Coronet City. At a place called the Dirty Wampa."
He didn't know a lot about his employer, except for what he had heard from other men like him. Davip was supposed to be a cold and calculating man according to some. A ruthless killer according to others. He had dealt in drugs and loan sharking before. In time he had acquired a Letter of Marque, and become a Lord-Captain of Corellia. Sonny didn't know what that meant, though it was probably very important in the right circles. He didn't care either. Torc Davip had hired him to track down a particularly elusive indebtee that owed Davip money.
Sonny had done just that. But taking action against the man had never been part of the deal. Davip had paid only for him to find him.
"Master Davip. Mr Mills have arrived." Mills removed his sunglasses as he stepped past the guard, and tucked them into the neck of his turqoise shirt. It was accompanied this day by an expensive gray sharkskin suit, the sleeves rolled up to just under the elbows to allow him to easier pull his firearm. A prison tattoo in the form of a clawcat with three blood red stripes across its body, was visible on the inside of his left wrist. Its significance was that of three "clean" assassinations in prison, though few people outside the walls of the detention center knew what it meant. On his right wrist was an expensive golden wristwatch.
"I've found your man." He said, going straight to business, his voice rough, dry and short. "He's in Coronet City. At a place called the Dirty Wampa."