Ask In Hot Water

[Edin Frost]

“I’m going to ask one more time,” The voice growled, “Who sent you?”

It was very rare that Edin slipped up this bad. It was true that he was far more careful when doing an assassin job, but he was hired for a side gig in this case. He was to infiltrate this gang hideout and internally lower their defenses to allow his employers, a rival gang, to burst in and steamroll the place. While he had calculated everything, he hadn’t accounted for a particular Rodian having the shits and being stuck in a nearby bathroom stall for ages. As a result, the man came out and saw Edin crouched behind a crate where he wasn’t supposed to be.

And that’s why he was currently tied to a chair staring at said Rodian’s boss, a mean looking Trandoshan with one eye. The Rodian that turned him in was standing next to him, though looking decidedly uncomfortable as he kept clutching at his stomach.

“The better question is how long do we have before your frog shits himself?” Edin jutted his chin at the Rodian that was squirming where he stood.

Thwack!

Edin had expected it, but the backhand still hurt. He grimaced, his face bright red from the hit. He knew he would be here a while. This hideout was lucrative because it contained several spice refineries and the formula for a strain that was especially addictive. Whoever got a hold of this would be rolling in the credits. If someone else were trying to break in, they both had a diversion in the form of Edin being a captive and also a bigger problem since the hideout henchmen were now on alert.

@Song

 

[Sett]

“It appears we have our opening. Only problem is, the guards look like they’re expecting guests.” Arms folded over his chest, Sett surveyed the building’s side entrance. While it lacked more guards than usual, those stationed outside looked to be on edge—not bored or sharing a smoke, but clutching their blasters like toy soldiers. Had someone tried breaking in before them?

Tala, his masked partner and the woman he’d come to rely on, simply shrugged. “So, what? Surely the most cunning man in the Rim can deal with a few tense guards.”

He snorted. “Nice try, Tala, but flattery won’t work on me. Only credits and crowns. And since you lack both, I’m going to need you to work some magic and get rid of those guards for me. Last thing I want is to stain my suit. I’ve just had it cleaned.” After all, just because he could double as an assassin, did not mean he’d come underdressed.

Tala sighed. In the next moment, she vanished, melding with the shadows until she reappeared by the side entrance doors, a glittering knife in hand. She cut through the first guard and let his body crumple. The next barely turned in time to see as they dropped, right before the tip of Tala’s knife lodged itself into his chest. He gurgled something, then joined his comrade on the ground. She’d always been so efficient, so clean. It was like all Sett had to do was sit back, kick up his feet, and enjoy the show.

Of course, he didn’t intend to stay on his ass all night.

Once the coast was clear, Sett strode up to the doors, carrying a blaster. He nodded to Tala as if to say, Check the perimeter, and before long, she was jumping back into the dark, moving to either cut power to the surveillance cameras situated around the facility or to silence the alarm. He didn’t need her. He could handle this on his own. What could possibly be standing behind these doors, anyway? A couple more guards? An empty room?

He kicked them open, only to find a large warehouse containing a dozen men, including a Rodian, a one-eyed Trandoshan, and a young man strapped to a chair. His face soured.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

@Sreeya

 

[Edin Frost]

Edin was licking the blood from his busted lip when the door opened. He saw a familiar mask and his eyes narrowed. Hilariously, the Trandoshan and Rodian also paused and looked. This resulted in an awkward moment of silence broken only by the squeaky release of the struggling Rodian’s behind. The Rodian attempted to make up for the embarrassing disruption, whipping around and leveling his blaster to fire at the intruder.

The sudden arrival of - was that Edin’s client?? - gave the assassin a window of opportunity. He slammed his foot up hard right into the Trandoshan’s ‘nads. The reptile growled and hunched over in pain, giving Edin a chance to kick his foot up to slam right into his jaw. He had a victorious look on his face, only to see the Trandoshan level a blaster. Edin lurched to the side as the bolt released. Unfortunately, this made him and the chair topple over to the side and slam into the ground. He winced as his shoulder slammed into the floor and he was effectively stuck.

“Fuck," He growled, "Wouldn't happen to be in need of another job, would you? I could give you a discount!" He called out to Sett, hoping to give him an excuse not to ditch his ass.

Meanwhile, Sett would get some urgent comms from Tala about reinforcements arriving outside and the exits being blocked. She would need time to cut all power to the hideout.

@Song

 

[Sett]

“I’m going to pretend I didn't hear that,” Sett muttered at Rodian’s wet fart, the sound echoing through the warehouse like a poorly oiled speeder that refused to start up. He didn’t usually feel secondhand embarrassment, but as the Trandoshan gaped and his partner fumbled to take out his blaster, Sett could only feel pity in his nonexistent heart. The thought that his last words would be a fart. Unbelievably sad.

In a blink, Sett hurled a throwing knife and embedded it into the Rodian’s face. He fell into a crumpled heap, red eyes rolling into the back of his head. Gone.

He followed through with a second knife directed at the Trandoshan’s heart. Once he was down, Sett moved through the rest. A dozen might seem like a lot to some, but he’d been trained by the finest instructors in the Core and these were little more than Rimworld thugs. He ran blindingly fast, using the cover of warehouse crates and columns to evade the men’s blaster shots.

One by one, they met the end of his knives.

It didn’t take long. Once the remaining guards had been dealt with, Sett turned his attention back to the hostage. With just one last knife left on his body, he approached them, intending to cut their throat where they lay. Last thing he needed was a random witness. However, when he came close enough, he paused. The young man’s face was startlingly familiar, with salt blue eyes framed by dark locks of hair and a jaw that could cut glass. It only took him a moment to realize who he was.

“Oh.” Sett deadpanned. “It’s you.”

No wonder he’d recognized the man’s voice from before. It was the broker he’d worked with to assassinate the Chancellor—Basilisk’s middleman. He hadn’t expected to see the man ever again, so to find him here, strapped to a chair and on the floor, put him at a loss for words. He sighed, looming above him like a grim specter, casting him in shadow. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t hire out the same dealer twice. I like to keep my strings loose. What we had was a one time thing.”

He knelt down, his masked face just feet away from Edin’s. Killing him was no longer an option. He could blame it on the gang, but Basilisk would find out one way or another and Sett couldn’t risk that. But that didn’t mean he had to help him.

Sett rose at the sound of reinforcements outside. Dangling his one leftover knife, he let it clatter to the floor, inches from the man’s face. No matter that his hands had been tied around the back of the chair. He couldn’t care less. “If you want to get out of here,” he said, “I would suggest you start cutting those ropes.”

Then the doors burst open.

@Sreeya