Quick and Quiet

[Ghost369]

I sat in a Nar Shaddaa bar, slightly drunk and very bored. Taking out my holopad I browse through assassination contracts and bounty boards until I find something interesting. A contract requesting the political assassination of one Gibbo Daqua.

Seems easy enough and the pay is good. Another hitman had already signed the contract and after stepping outside to have a quiet conversation with the client so did I. Now that there were two of us the mission was ready to begin.

Still outside I called a cab to pick me up and made my way to the rendezvous point. When I arrived at the coordinates I was given and stepped inside the warehouse a skinny, gross looking man pointed me to the back of the building. The ship the Black Sun was lending us was supposed to be inside this back room and my contact was supposed to arrive soon.

[member="Lancer Damar"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

If someone wanted someone dead anywhere in the Outer Rim, lately, Lancer had been the one to talk to. In a post true Sith Empire galaxy, destabilization left power vacuums in every pocket and corner of the galaxy. Seedy characters rose, seedy characters fell, and seedy characters wanted other seedy characters dead.

It was there in those shadows, the pockets of society, that Lancer Damar made his mark, etched his place in the galaxy as a taker of lives, a purveyor of death for coin. He had no qualms about the moral ambiguity. The men who he killed were not often good people, or even having redeemable qualities. The target he was after was all the same.

Except the Black Suns had saw fit that two of them went after the target.

Lancer wore nothing special, no tactical suit, no special getup. Just a hat, a jacket- but on his thigh, a drop-holstered suppressed Disruptor pistol.

Lancer met his contact, sized him up in about an instance. Lancer had a bag over his shoulder, a black duffle bag. He nudged his head inside, and met with the shipwright that was going to get them where they needed to go. Lancer didn't say anything, he set his bag down, pulled out a few holopads, and started to exchange information. Then, curiously, their contact pulled out-

A stack of paper.

Actual paper.

It was easier to dispose of evidence when it was able to be burned and never seen again.

Lancer handed a copy of the dossier to his co-worker and gave a thankful nod to their contact. He looked up at the ship, then at the man who he was working with. And for the first time in the long few minutes that Lancer had been there, he spoke. He spoke quietly, and with a very flat, monotone voice. As if speaking was a chore.

"Did you read the dossier yet? Or did they not give you a copy?"

[member="Cicero Silvertongue"]

 

[Ghost369]

(1st person's not working for me, going back to 3rd)

He didn't start out as a common assassin, but was once a Sith. However Cicero didn't care for imperialism, only power so he left or rather was kicked out of the Brotherhood. Their empire was just a shadow of the True Sith Empires of the Old Republic anyway. Always talking about the force breaking their chains and setting them free, but he always felt like their slave, their dog. Now he killed because he wanted to and because he loved credits. Fighting for yourself and your own interests is the true Sith way.

Those ideas that set him apart and exiled him brought him here to this place. Walking through the automatic doors Cicero entered the back room and walked up to the ship ( Black Sun Ship: S & K A/LF Sledge "Shadow Hammer" Modified Light Freighter
http://starwarsrp.net/topic/142958-the-shadow-hammer-modified-light-freighter/?hl=hammer). Just then his partner for the mission walked in. He seemed the quiet and solemn type. The man asked if he read his dossier yet or even got one.

Raising the paper in his right hand he showed it to the man saying, "Yeah, got it right here. Already read it.," Cicero said, igniting the paper between his fingers with pyromantic fire.

Then the pilot walked out from inside his ship and spoke, "Oh you're both here. Come on to assassination station." the man said with an awkward and slightly twisted laugh, "But seriously get on, we're in a hurry."

Cicero looked at the pilot, unsure if he wanted to laugh at the bad pun or smack the guy. So he just boarded the ship instead.

"So this is the ship's armory right here and you guys can hang out in that big room down the hall if you want. " the pilot said, giving a short tour.

Cicero stopped listening after "armory" and walked inside to see what was available. The pilot just left and flew the ship toward Crispor.

WEAPONS

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149033-em-10-assault-carbine/#entry1983775

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149114-em-2-pegasus-blaster-pistol/

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149130-em-6-raider-shotgun/

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149084-7sx-necrosis-edge

ARMOR

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149326-gi-6-thunder-armor

http://starwarsrp.net/topic/149250-spc-1-protector-armor/

There were enough weapons for noth assassins. Cicero played with the 7SX's extending blade before putting two of them down the sleeves of his black shirt. The one in his right sleeve was accompanied by his black lightsaber, which resembled a katana's hilt. Then he grabbed the Pegasus blaster and its matching holster, putting them on the left hip of his pants, which were also black to match his shirt. Grabbing the EM-10 Carbine last, Cicero looked over it excitedly and started chuckling as he put the mag in.

"Oh ho ho. This is so mine." He said.

Taking off his hood and the whole cloak, which was dark brown first, he put the gun's strap over his head. Then he put his cloak back on and walked out of the armory with the rifle hidden under it.

[member="Lancer Damar"]

 

[Lancer Damar]

Lancer didn't say a god damn word for the first few hours of the flight. Barely even looked at Cicero. Barely even looked over at the pilot. He didn't even move when the pilot made a remark about the weaponry onboard.

He brought the two deadliest weapons that he had at his disposal with him, himself, and a handgun. With the two of them, he doubted that he needed anything else for a low-level politician who pissed off the Black Sun.

Their journey wasn't incredibly long, but it was probably exasperated and made longer by Lancer's insistence on not talking. It wasn't something born out of animosity or distrust, it was just something that Lancer didn't like to do. He hadn't spoken in years, at least, not a full on conversation. The last person who did that was a woman, and that was because Lancer wanted something else from her.

While Cicero prepped his weaponry, Lancer, prepped the plan. His eyes scanned the dossier, his security team. Had the full report on both of them. Both of his security teams were managed by two higher level guards. The proximity to Silver Jedi space didn't bother him, but it made their target reportedly comfortable with even as so far as going out in public, specifically to nightclubs. Lancer had a variety of methods, but their most obvious and best hope for survival was a discretionary route.

Lancer favored a close-range takedown or a poisoning.

He looked up at his compatriot, now speaking after several hours of flying.

"We need to hit him at one of the nightclubs he goes to."

It made the most sense, after all. Nightclubs were difficult to secure fully. Even one of them, or both, could slip with a little greased palms or a lightly spoken threat.

[member="Cicero Silvertongue"]

 

[Ghost369]

Not really minding Lancer's silence, Cicero was busy inspecting his new weapons and getting a feel for them across the table. The vibro blades were basically metal light-shotos. They were all he was likely to need this time, but he would bring the blaster pistol and slug rifle too anyway. Even if he didn't use them he bought them from the pilot so they'd see action soon enough anyway.

Normally force users were seen using lightsabers, but being on the run from the Sith and still considered a dark side enemy combatant by the Jedi meant Cicero had to use weapons of the forceless to hide. He did bring out his red blade occasionally, but that was when no one could see, when it didn't matter or to send a message. He didn't use the force often either for the same reasons, but also because it was more of a challenge. This time, however it was about proximity to Jedi space.

By now the ship was getting very close to Crispor and was preparing to exit hyperspace.

Cicero looked surprised when Lancer spoke, almost forgetting he was there.

"Yeah, but how? Attack them after darkening the room? Poison Gibbo? What? And which of us will kill him?"

They could just wing it, but Cicero asked anyway seeing as it could prove more dangerous without a plan. After he spoke and Lancer gave his ancer, if he did, the ship lept out of hyperspace with a thud and the pilot called out, "We're here! Touching down soon."

Cicero looked out at Crispor's icy surface and smiled as he thought about how the next few hours were going to go.

[member="Lancer Damar"]