Smuggler's Blues

Livgardist

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Silky Club, Blue Sector, Coronet City

Silky Club was a very exclusive place. Unlike most establishments in the Blue Sector of Coronet City, Silky Club was definitely high class, with top-end security and a no trouble policy. It was perfect for illicit business excanges, and Sonny Mills had used it several times before as a meeting place. The bouncer at the door was busy denying a couple of Bith entrance when Mills approached. The man recognized him, and offered him a simple nod as he stepped out of the way. Mills stepped inside, and immediately, music from the, for once, all human cantina band, reached his ears, with the sweet, welcome fragrance of the twi'lek dancers' perfume.

He walked right through the cantina, offering a smile to a pretty twi'lek girl on the way, a nod to the bartender, and finally a second one to the two guards standing by the door in the back. Both men carried blasters close at hand, and were there as security to keep people from entering the VIP section of the large cantina uninvited. When Mills approached, however, one of them opened the door for him without hesitation. Mills stepped through without a word. The guards had already been informed there would be others following him. They hadn't been told why, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that part.

The seller would arrive first, as Sonny had arranged it, so that they'd be able to prepare for the deal before the buyers arrived. But first he had to make his own preparations - part of the package deal people received when hiring Sonny Mills as a middleman was security. Protection against the law, but also protection from being ripped off by the buyers.

The VIP section was as expected empty, though the music was still playing, and the entirety of the VIP section flashing in a myriad of cascading colors dominated by purple strobes. A large glass table in the center of the room was waiting for Mills, complete with a bottle of champagne and plenty of glasses. Mills approached it. Carrying a briefcase, he placed it on the table, and opened it. Out of it he brought electronic equipment that tracked surveillance equipment. He worked quickly, setting it up, and throughout the next few minutes, sweapt the room in its entirety for bugs, hidden cameras, and also explosives. It was clean.

He packed up the equipment again, and shot it into hiding under a sofa by the wall. A quick glance at his golden wristwatch told him that he only had a few minutes, and so he brought out his large calibre semi-automatic slugthrower pistol, made sure it was fully loaded, and holstered it again under his left arm, the holster hidden by his expensive grey suit jacket. In case anything went wrong, he wanted to be ready. That was the most important rule of their line of work; always be ready. Satisfied, he placed a cigarette in the side of his mouth and lit it. It was time for his client, and the buyers, to arrive.

They were all going to make a lot of cash tonight.
 
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(POV: Tabatha Warr)

Tabatha walked into the cantina. Her mission was to hunt down a couple of drug runners. She was more than willing to stop them. Many eyes looked at her, because she looked great. She kept her revolver at hand, just in case anyone would dare to shoot. Her autism was preventing her from focusing, so every shot counts.

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(POV: Varnus Maximus)

Varnus was walking up to the bar to get a drink. He asked for a martini. A good martini helps him relax. He wasn't working at the present moment, although he kept his twin revolvers in any case. "What could worry me in a cantina like Silky Club? Nobody would ever think I am here, so I am invisble." he said to himself. Should trouble arise, he will kill anyone with a gun.
 

Tank

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Cain arrived at the Silky club fifteen minutes early. He had business to attend to before he could enter the club. He walked around to the back door of the club, a twi’lek dancer was waiting to meet him. Cain was holding a black nondescript duffel bag in one hand and a thousand credits in the other. He’d met the dancer two days earlier when his contact arranged the meeting. It was amazing how little a twi’lek slave would take to help him smuggle in his equipment and arms; just in case this deal went sour. Inside the duffel bag was his black aliit’gam, his Firestorm repeater and his Rippergun as well as extra magclips and two thermal detonators. His Shockwave pistol was stored safely in a shoulder holster and he was confident he’d be allowed into the club with it.

“Bloah! What’s in this thing?” The twi’lek dancer, Star, asked in a loud voice.

“I pay you to smuggle my stuff, not ask questions. Just make sure it makes it into the VIP room will you sugar.”
Cain said in a gruff voice. He tossed her the thousand credichip and walked back around the building to the entrance. Cain was dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a blue undershirt. His hair was tussled giving him a hip ‘just woke up’ look. He nodded at the bouncer who was in an altercation with a Bith couple. The bouncer looked at him, acknowledged who he was, and let Cain walk through the door of the Silky Club.

There was a catchy tune playing but Cain didn’t pay too much attention to it. He was instead scouring the room. He’d been here just two nights before scouting the place so he knew the lay of the club but the patrons were largely different. He did make out a Bothan who was wearing the same Navy blue suit as he had two nights ago. Everyone else looked self-involved.

“This may be one of the easiest fortunes I’ve made.”
Cain mused quietly.
Cain walked towards the back of the club, there was a door with two men standing on either side of it. Cain was about the same size as the two men and didn’t feel at all intimidated by their presence.

“I’m expected.” Cain said to the guard on the left. The man looked him over and then opened the door to the VIP room. His contact was already waiting inside, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a ring of smoke starting to form above his head.

“Good to see I’m not the first one here. The buyers are on their way here I assume, I have a reliable Bothan waiting with the shipment outside.”
Cain paused for effect. “It was a little too large to bring inside.” Cain smiled at the man he was about to make very rich. The man whose name he still didn’t know.

“My name is Gregory Wash, would you give me the pleasure of knowing yours? I feel we can make a very profitable future for ourselves.”
Cain said addressing the other man. The twi'lek dancer poked her head through the door uncomfortably. She walked in dragging the duffel bag behind her with great effort.

"Thank you Star, now be a doll and pour me some of that champagne. If you don't mind that is?" Cain said, asking the middle man who had provided such an illustrious meeting place and upscale amenities. "Don't worry it's just some of the tools of the trade, in case we come across any trouble." Cain said assuring the man that he was calm and confident that this deal would go off without a hitch. Though, he would be a nut not to prepare for the worst.
 
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(POV: Tabatha Warr)

Tabatha caught the smell of smoke. She didn't suspect anything. Many people smoke around the place, so it was no worry for her. She put her revolver in her belt. She was keeping an eye on anything suspecious.

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(POV: Varnus Maximus)

Varnus went up to a private room, somewhere where he can smoke freely. The guards stopped him. "I need your pass." Varnus took out his Servana Inc. I.D. "Would this do?" The guard nodded in a yes, but the other guy still didn't let him pass. Varnus swiftly took the guards out with his silenced revolvers. He went in the room, so he could sit by himself. He then took out a cigarette and began smoking. "Nothing like a good cigarette."
 
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Mirdala'runi Beviin

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Music, promiscuity, under the table dealings...yeah, this looked about right.

What didn't look quite right, maybe, was the very young but very eye-catching human sitting solo in the corner booth. Raven-black hair was slicked back in an almost severe way, the ebony ponytail swaying gently at the small of her back as her head lightly bobbed to the otherwise mediocre music. Surely this femme couldn't be more than eighteen at best or sixteen at worst, but somehow, she'd managed to get into the club anyhow. Maybe it was the black sleeveless top she wore, the cleavage cut low enough to entice with throat and the promise of more beneath. Or perhaps, and more likely, the credits that had found their way into the bouncer's greedy paws.

The girl wore black multi-pocketed slacks and a pair of shiny boots that might very well have been bought specifically for tonight. Her chilly blue eyes, mesmerizing in their depth, were encircled with thick black makeup, giving her the "raccoon" look favored by Coruscant grunge Trandoshan metalheads. For all intents and purposes, this was just some teen trying to look chic in a club that promised the wonders of the adult world...provided she let the sleaze buy her drinks and make half-drunken proclamations of interest at her. So far, so good.

The truth, of course, was far more interesting.

Strapped to the girl's back was a very interesting piece of gunsmithing; a Shuk'trayc MK2, all loaded and ready for some cranium-crushing action. This in itself wasn't too curious as girls did have to look out for themselves in places like this, but the binders, thermal detonator and two stun grenades carefully stowed in those innocuous-looking pockets did seem to be a bit of overkill. Not to mention the vibroblade she'd strapped to her arm in such a way that it made itself look more like attire than a weapon. Clearly, this was no grungerocker; this was a woman with intent. Intent to be paid, that is. She shifted in the leather seat, her eyes watching the crowds gyrate in the motions of dance, flirtation or both, but her mind seeking out the faces she'd been promised payment to apprehend. Or bring in sans body, if necessary, she recalled coolly.

Maintaining the teenage angsty aura she was putting out, she sipped her drink languidly and watched...waited...
 

Livgardist

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Sonny looked up when his client entered the VIP room. He offered a slight smile as the man spoke.
"Not a problem. I hope you brought some samples, though. The buyers won't pay for empty promises." He offered his hand to the other man after he had introduced himself, and said: "Sonny Mills. And brother, the feeling is mutual." At that point, a twi'lek girl stuck her head inside, pulling with her a duffel bag. Mills shook his head with a dry laugh as Gregory explained. He replied: "You don't have to explain. It's the nature of the business." As the twi'lek girl poured the two a couple of glasses of champagne, Sonny took one, and sipped the sweet beverage with an approving nod. He then threw a glance at his golden wristwatch.

"The buyers should be here shortly." He searched the pockets of his suit, and brought out a pack of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, and offering one to Gregory as well, before lighting it. He took a breath, and then looked at his wristwatch again. As if on cue, a voice crackled in a communicator on the table:

"Mr Mills. Your visitors have arrived. We checked them before letting them in. They have the money."

"Good. Send them in." Mills replied. He looked at the twi'lek girl, and jerked his head towards the door. "Time for you to go, cutie." He pulled out a hundred credit bill, and with a single hand quickly folded it up into a neat little square before taking her hand in his left one, and placing the bill in it, closing it. "Go on. Get out of here." He then said.

As she left, she almost collided with two men who entered the room. Both of them wore expensive business suits. One was an older man with short-cut black and gray hair, a chiseled jaw and the eyes of a professional. He was carrying a silvery briefcase. The other man was younger, but he too had the eyes of a professional. Mills knew why, as he had done a thorough background check on them before agreeing to put them in contact with a buyer. They were both ex-Imperial soldiers. Professionals. No doubt they had also brought security that was waiting out in the cantina disguised as regular visitors. But their money was good, and that was all that mattered.

"Mr Mills." The older man said, placing the briefcase on the glass table. "It's a pleasure as always to work with a professional like yourself." He extended his hand to Gregory. "My name is Joran Flakk. May I inquire as to your name?" Once Gregory had introduced himself, Flakk said: "Well, now that we all know each other, let us get down to business. I believe five hundred thousand credits was what we agreed on. In large currency. Very large currency." He opened the briefcase, and turned it around to show Mills and Gregory the contents; Neatly stacked Galactic Alliance 1000 credit chips made in a golden hue. They were beautiful, and very valuable.

Mills nodded to Gregory.
"Go ahead and show him the goods." He said. While Gregory did, he stepped up to the briefcase and began counting the chips. Flakk turned his sharp eyes towards Gregory to inspect the samples of the narcotics that he and his conglomerate were buying.
 

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"Not a problem. I hope you brought some samples, though. The buyers won't pay for empty promises." The man named Mr. Mills said. Freylyon Cain walked over to his duffle bag and pulled out a datapad. He pulled up the Silky Club’s security feed on the data pad. An image appeared on the screen of a dark alley behind the club. Another one of Cain’s men was in a parked land speeder. He had positioned the illicit cargo in the landspeeder so that it was easily visible on the security camera. Cain also pulled out a half pound of a variety of illicit spices from his duffle bag, in case they wanted to sample their product.

“Yeah, I’ve got samples.”
Cain said to Mills, tossing him the data pad and spice. The buyers entered soon afterward, they both wore expensively tailored suits that Cain could never imagine wasting credits on.

“The name is Billy Gat.”
Cain said extending his hand to the man who had introduced himself as Joran Flakk. Cain knew that Mills may now grow suspicious of Cain, after hearing him give two different names. But Mills, if that even was his real name, had to know that when it came to smuggling, you had to leave a clean trail and part of that was dropping different names; it made it much harder for the authorities to track a man. Cain was sure Mills would understand, and if the deal went down in their favor, Cain might even let Mills in on his real name.

When they opened the briefcase Cain walked over to Mills to retrieve his data pad. Cain grabbed one of the chips and scanned it into the datapad. He had uploaded an application that allowed him to scan for markings on chips, as well as spot fakes. He had to be smart as a mercenary and knowing he was being paid clean money was essential to life as a gun for hire.

“Well your money is clean, I’m sure you’ll want to see the stash.” Cain handed the datapad to the older man and the spice to the younger man. “As you can see I’ve taken the liberty of providing transport for the spice. My man is ready to deliver the cargo wherever you would like it sent.”
The two men looked over the spice and even sampled a few of them to make sure they were of good quality. It took them both a full five minutes before Flakk finally turned to Cain.

“I’ll take everything but the Ryll, this is relatively weak, even for a weak drug.”
Flakk said pocketing the spice.

“You’re right, but the Glitterstim is remarkable. And you’ll be able to sell it for twice what it’s worth. I think you can afford to buy a little Ryll that is unremarkable. You’re bound to make at least ten percent off of it.”
Cain said very matter-of-factly. He wasn’t trying to persuade the buyers it was the simple fact of the matter.

“I see you don’t just deal in spice, you actually know your stuff."
Flakk said with a smile. “You’re right, I’ll give you the full one hundred thousand for the lot.” Flakk paused and pointed his finger at me, a serious look on his face. “But next time, I expect all high quality drugs, or you won’t be getting any money whatsoever.”
Flakk relaxed and took a sip of champagne. He spoke again, “Tell your man to leave the speeder. We’ll have some of our men make sure it gets delivered to our warehouse.”

“No problem. It’s a rental though, it’ll be an extra fifty credits if you don’t return it before 10AM tomorrow morning.” Cain said giving Flakk a smile. Cain walked over to the glass table and emptied the contents of the briefcase into his duffle bag.” Cain turned to Mills while he counted out chips.

“We agreed on thirty percent correct?”
Cain knew that’s what they agreed on but he wanted to see what kind of man Mills was, to see if Mill’s greed would demand more. Cain handed Mills the thirty thousand credits and waited to see the reaction. He went and sat down on one of the sofas with his duffle bag at his feet. With all those credits in there, he wasn’t about to let it leave arms reach.
 
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Varnus was just smoking his cigarettes freely. Nobody could bother him. Except... Beep, Beep! His holonet transmitter was receiving a signal from Servana Inc. "Who may ask disturbs me?" Varnus spoke. "It is I, Wisp Lee. Varnus, I need to ask you to do a little drug investigation for me. I have been very worried about the drug traffic in your sector. Please do something about this." Varnus returned with "Sure thing, Wisp. I won't disappoint you."
 

Mirdala'runi Beviin

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Impatience was probably statistically the number one cause for mission failure.

However, it was hard to ignore in light of Miri's current environs. Sitting in her booth waiting for her target, she'd been hit on no less than three times. She liked the drink selection, but refused to let herself get even mildly buzzed during work. Lastly, the music was beginning to sound like the same song on one long, horrendous stretch. She was spared any further discomfort, however, as a loose knot of people pushed their way into the club, not hassled in the least by the formidable-looking bouncers. Normally, Miri would take one look, assess the people and be done with it, but a silvery case clutched in the hand of one of the human males caught her attention.

She shifted ever so slightly to watch this group with her peripheral vision and was rewarded with a positive identification of the man she'd been stalking for the past four days. Ghost their haunts, she thought with a small, grim smile, and you're sure to set eyes on them. She masked her motions of turning slightly to watch the group by casually brushing hair over her ear; the man called Flakk moved towards the rear of the club. VIP area, Miri surmised. Doing a little work, are we? She watched him until he vanished around the crowd and, presumably, into the private area, then turned her attention to the gaggle of well-but-typically dressed goons that had accompanied him. They broke up, moving under the guise of mixing it up with the club's patrons, but she knew these men were hard types. Swoopers in shiny suits, she thought with a frown. She suspected Flakk wouldn't move without muscle, but this many would be a problem. She casually reached behind her and flicked the safety of her pistol off.

She would need to get to the VIP area, but she would need to do so without attracting attention.

Absolute panic or stealth?, the youth debated. Create a ruckus and the club would drown in mayhem; perfect cover for a shootout with hired goons...but with the risk of the boss getting away. Speeder or swoop bike or backup? If only she'd had time to slice into the club's exterior flatcams! That rules out panic, she decided as she scooted her way out of her booth. So how would she get the drop on a seasoned scumbag like Flakk and the wiry partner he'd strolled to the back with? She sashayed across the club's floor, feigning interest in the music but keeping the goons in her peripheral vision. Might need to take into account whoever he's meeting, too, the sobering thought struck her. This track job was getting more complicated than she'd anticipated. Should've brought the cannon, she mused with a wry smile.

In the end, she decided to try her luck. She stuck her lower lip out a bit, adopted a slightly drunken step to her gait and approached the VIP room slowly, the last remnants of her drink--her one and only drink thus far--in hand. How many drunk bimbos wandered to the back for a "private party" in a dive like this one? Plenty, likely. She quickly jabbed a hand in one of the pockets of her pants, thumbing a stun grenade into readiness. This is gonna be fast, one way or the other. With a grim determination to see this mission through, she approached the VIP lounge with a dazed, dopey smile on her lips. She was careful to use body language that posed no threat to the guards outside the room. "Hey, mate," she slurred at one of the men.

"C'n I go an...an go back there? My boytoy just went in...Joran lef' me alllll alone," she pouted.
 

Livgardist

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Mills didn't bat an eye when his client used yet another fake name. He wasn't surprised, nor did he care very much. He understood the why of it. Whereas a man like his client needed to keep their names secret, men like Mills himself preferred to work under their real names simply because their names were their brand. His name, Sonny Mills, was associated with quality services, trustworthiness, and skill at what he did. This was why he always worked under his real name. While it could cause some flack should his clients or buyers ever be arrested and interrogated, the benefits in attracting new business and profit more than made up for it.

He watched as the business deal went down, as the buyers sampled the products, and his client checked on the credits to make sure they weren't fakes. While waiting, he lit another cigarette, smoking it in silence while the cantina's security occasionally gave a security update in a small microphone in his ear. So far everything was good. That the buyer had objections about the ryll made a slight scowl cross Sonny's face - it was unacceptable to try to pull crap like that in the middle of a deal to get a better price - but his client worked the issue out without him having to interfere. He shot Flakk a look just the same, a warning not to waste their time.

The deal soon closed, and GRegory began to empty the chips into his duffel bag. He looked at Sonny, handing him a handful of high-value credits.
"We agreed on thirty percent, correct?" Mills nodded.

"You know we did." He replied emotionlessly as he took the credits, pocketing them. He looked at the buyers, and said: "I believe our business is concluded. Now if you'll..." His voice trailed off as suddenly, chatter erupted outside the VIP lounge. Apparently a drunk girl was trying to get inside. Probably nothing. Still... He frowned. The deal was concluded, and so, better safe than sorry. He looked at Flakk and said: "You and yours leave first. We will go when you have left. For everybody's safety." Flakk nodded slowly.

"Smart." He said. "Mr Gat." He nodded to Gregory. "A pleasure doing business with both of you. I'm glad to see you live up to your reputation of professionalism, Mr Mills."

The duo turned around, and stepped out the door. As soon as they did, Mills grabbed a chair by the glass table, and without much hesitation, threw it right through one of the toned windows leading out to the street. A loud crash was heard as the window shattered, a fine layer of glass dust raining down on the street below. He turned to Gregory and said: "It's probably nothing, but I have a bad feeling. So we're making our exit right now. If you would follow me? It would be bad for my reputation if my buyer got caught in trouble even after my services were rendered finished. People might think I'm an undercover police officer." He gestured towards the window. A fire rope was attached to the wall next to the window. He grabbed it and tossed it out, and then, without hesitation, stepped out onto the window, and began climbing down onto the street.

Moments later, he was out of the cantina, waiting for Gregory to follow him.

Outside the VIP section, Flakk stopped, and looked confused at the young drunk girl bothering the two guards. One of them looked at him, and said, rather annoyed:
"She says she knows you, Mr Flakk. Could you take her home before she starts puking?"

"I have never seen that girl in my life before." Flakk growled, suddenly alerted by a bad feeling. He reached inside his pocket, and began to pull out the blaster waiting for him there. His colleague followed suit. All of a sudden, a dozen of his men also began to pull out their blasters from their locations all over the cantina. The shit was about to hit the proverbial fan!
 

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"You know we did." Mills said cooly. Cain gave a snicker as he stuffed the rest of his credits in his bag and handed the brief case back to Flakk. Mills continued on, "I believe our business is concluded. Now if you'll...You and yours leave first. We will go when you have left. For everybody's safety." The way Mills was talking alerted Cain that something was wrong. As soon as the two men had left Cain reached in his bag and pulled out his Firestorm repeater and two clips. He loaded one into the blaster rifle and placed the other into his jacket pocket.

While he did that Mills was working on a way out of the cantina. He shattered a window and began climbing down the fire escape.

“I’m right behind you.” Cain said in response to Mills. He strapped the blaster rifle to his back with his shoulder strap and began climbing down the rope. It reminded him of a similar escapade on Hapes a few years ago. That mission didn’t go so well and Cain hoped this would be a different story. As Cain hit the floor he could hear a lot of commotion coming from the cantina.

“Jet, bring the back-up landspeeder around the east end of the building.”
Cain said into his com link. Jet had been piloting the spice filled speeder. Cain had a back-up speeder parked down the street for just such an occasion.

“But…can’t you get it yourself? I really don’t-“

“Get the damn speeder, Jet!” Cain yelled into the comm unit.

“Fine.” There was a distinctive click on the other of the comma and Cain knew it was the ignition of the speeder.

“Mr. Mills, would you like to accompany me out of this hot zone? This is kind of my specialty.” Cain crossed the street and went up to the corner of the intersection. From here he could see the front door of the cantina and guard the back entrance as well. Cain whipped his repeater around to his front and flicked the safety off the weapon. Jet should be there any second.
 
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Varnus was asleep when he heard a window break. He was barely awake, and yet he believes something is wrong. He took out his twin revolvers and loaded them. He then walked outside. The next thing he saw, was not a sight Varnus would have seen coming. "Stop there!" He yelled. He was suspicious about those men. He didn't know what he was walking into.
 

Mirdala'runi Beviin

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Well, panic works too.

Things happened so quickly then, it felt as if time had slowed to a crawl. The sound of shattering glass blew any notions of stealth and subtlety clean out of Miri's mind. The moment the first guard turned his head, she was ready. Flakk was pulling a weapon; there was far too much familiarity in the motion for it to be anything else. Mirdala had been trained to recognize threats since she was a child--which, technically, she still was--and to respond accordingly within her ability to do so.

Before the weapon could be pulled completely free, she thrust her drink into the face of the second guard and lashed a kick out towards the groin of the first, his head still turned. There would be no time to waste in waiting to see if she'd hit or, if she did, if the goon had protection there. Motion is key, fluidity will save your life. Sage advice and she was sure as hell going to apply it here. She hurled herself back and to her left, hopefully avoiding immediate retaliation from Flakk and the two thugs at the door. Her hand wrenched free the stun grenade, her thumb depressed the ignition and she hurled it in the direction of her prey.

It was down to chance now; she failed to plan properly and was now in the midst of a mess.
 

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Somebody yelled for the duo to stop, while Mills and his client were waiting for a way out of there. Mills scoffed as he crouched by a streetlight, and unholstered his pistol, took aim and fired several shots at the approaching man. It was still too far away for a slugthrower to effectively hit the man, except perhaps with a lucky shot - but the bullets would go close enough that the man would have to hit cover. He knew that their way out of there wasn't far away now. And inside he could hear more gunfire as Flakk and his men put up resistance against whoever was interrupting their deal.

"Throwing smoke." He growled as he pulled a small cylindrical cannister out of his pocket. He pulled the pin and tossed the object to a point exactly in the middle of the distance between the vigilante, or whatever he was, and themselves. Thick, black smoke began to billow out of it, making it hard for him to see their opponent, but also making it hard for their opponent to see him. He pulled out another one, and tossed it to a slightly different area. Soon, the air was filled with black smoke to cover their exit.

"Where's your friend? We need to get out of here fast." Mills muttered. "This is attention we don't need."
 

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A male human, or so Frey thought it was difficult to tell at this distance, came out of the cantina and called out to the two men. It was a bold and stupid move. The two men could easily lay down suppressing fire until Jet arrived. Mills shot several bolts down the street, sending the nosy man back under cover. Mills made Frey's job even easier when he began throwing smoke grenades out into the street. One of them covered their front and the second covered their flank. Not only would the enemy now be blind, but when he did manage to find his way out of the smoke his vision and respiratory systems would be impaired from the smoke.

"Where's your friend? We need to get out of here fast. This is attention we don't need." Mills said, clearly disgruntled that things weren't going quite the way they were planned. Frey didn't mind, a little action kept his mind sharp and he enjoyed the thrill of an adrenaline rush. The roar of a landspeeder answered Mills' question as Jet appeared around the corner. He was approaching from the back of the cantina, heading perpendicular to the smoke filled street. The speeder came to a halt in front of the two men. It provided a barrier between Frey and Mills, and the crazed do-gooder down the street.

"Jet, out!" Frey called, sending another volley of blaster bolts down the street.

"But sir, I-I-I" Jet came back. The intensity of the situation already fried Jet's nerves.

"Yeah, You-you-you! Out!" Frey yelled. He sprinted across to the drivers side of the speeder. Jet was in the process of climbing out and Frey, helpfully, drug him out quicker. "The whole cantina is in a panic just take you and your jittery, hairy backside around back and you'll blend right in with the rest of the panicked guests." Frey climbed into the open-air landspeeder and turned to Mills.

"Get in, we'll lose 'em in the Coronet downtown, then I'll drop you off where ever you please." Freylyon waited from Mills to comply and then took off down the street the smoke to their backs. If anyone was crazy enough to continue a pursuit they would soon be lost in the hub of Coronet late evening traffic in a matter of minutes.
 
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The smoke grenade was a smart move on Varnus. He wasn't willing to lose. He had the Force by his side, so he might have had an advantage. Unfortunately for him, no one else is Force-Sensitive, rendering his Force Sense power useless. He used Force Speed instead to try and catch up to the 2 men who were running away with something. He pulled out his twin revolvers and let out a few shots. He was no marksman, so it was only luck that he might hit a lucky shot.
 

Mirdala'runi Beviin

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Chaos was hardly the right word.

Patrons fled in every direction, the paranoid drew weapons and those with money invested in the place screamed into chic, suave-looking personal comms for any and all authorities with weapons. Miri, stunned by her maneuver that flung herself backwards, was lucky not to have her face mashed into something resembling a Hutt's fleshy underside as she lay on her back, pistol aimed between her knees at the way she'd just fled. A few moments lying there, her chest burning with a combination of adrenaline and exertion, she risked getting to her feet. Off in the distance, she could hear blaster fire; even closer, a firefight erupted between skeevy-looking clubbers and the men that her mark had come in here with.

Sith freakin' spawn, she thought acidly, is a blaster part of the attire for a night out nowadays?! Considering what was going on in the galaxy, it just might...she kept low, wary of people diving for cover behind tables, behind people, behind the bar. No sign of the two guards, no sign of her prey. Stun got them? She could only hope. She caught sight of two thuggish barves snatching scantily clad ladies and holding them before themselves as they proceeded to seek Mirdala out in the madness--"Hell!" she snarled, throwing herself over a tabletop still covered in half-finished drinks.

She landed on her rear, kicked the table down and was rewarded with a few near-miss shots at her head.

First the goons, then the payday, she thought. This, of course, risked Flakk regaining consciousness in the time it took to deal with these two and their Twi'lek and human shields. Shoot through them? Harsh, unnecessary and would draw the wrong sort of legal attention. With a sigh, she figured she would need to handle the goons without harming the bimbos. Fan-freakin-tastic. She risked a peek out from her cover to narrowly miss a bolt right to her temple, but managed to spot her enemies' legs in all the rushing around.

She darted her head out again at a different height, but snapped it right back as the bolts came. With the goons shooting, she yanked free the light, curvy vibroblade strapped to her bicep, hefted it and then hurled it across the room around the other side of the downed table. She was relieved to her a male voice cry out in pain amidst the din of the mayhem; wasting no time, she snapped vertical like a coiled predator...her eye caught the man still clutching the human girl but his head was thrown back in a snarl...she snapped off a quick shot, charring a spot on his throat black and turning his snarl into a throaty gasp. The girl shrieked and fell to the floor, fainted.

Mirdala had enough time to drop to the ground to avoid having the second goon blow her head off.
 

Livgardist

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"Sounds good." Sonny replied to Gregory as he got into the vehicle. He holstered his pistol, and leaned back in the seat. He took a moment to bring out a cigarette and light it, even as the vehicle began to speed through the streets of Coronet City. Its engines roared like untamed beasts. It was clear that following them, with the skilled driver that his client was, was not an option. They had gotten away scoot free.

"That was too close." Sonny muttered. "I apologize. I must have made a mistake somewhere, and that's unacceptable for a man in my line of work." He frowned. "Rest assured if you wish to continue doing business with and through me, it won't happen again."
 

Tank

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"No worries." Cain came back confidently. "I always enjoy a good challenge. If I ever have any cargo to unload I'll definitely call you up." Cain flew the speeder through the city, making multiple turns and exits to make certain no one was following them. When he finally was confident that no one was around he stopped the speeder and looked over to his compatriot.

"Is there any where in particular I can let you off? I'm headed off world into Chiss space this evening if you're headed that way?"
 

Livgardist

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"No. The Chiss don't like me. Well, they don't like my passport." Sonny said. "While I appreciate the offer, dropping me off at the spaceport will suffice." He lit a cigarette as he spoke, taking a breath on it. As he did, he looked back to the man, and added: "You ever need any cargo unloaded again, you know where to find me." As he said this, the vehicle slowed to a halt outside of the spaceport. Mills stepped out, offered a final nod to Gregory, and closed the door.

Moments later, he had disappeared into the crowd.

(OOC: A pleasure roleplaying with you guys, Tank and Mirdala. Maybe we can do it again sometime. :D )
 
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