Success or Death.
Ten, twenty minutes.
Drexden looked to the left, to the right - The coast was clear. He rapped on the metal door. A small slit opened, the glowing photoreceptors of a protocol droid on the other side. Its binary was familiar, he knew what to say.
"I have walked many leagues, and while I have no credits I sing for my supper." "You can't sit here."
The droid waited a second, then opened the door. Drexden darted inside, greeted the bounty hunter sitting next to the door with his exotic firearm in his lap. Drexden had heard his story: The Sith wiped out his whole company back on Tiss'sharl when they were hired to take out the Dark Lord. Afterwards, he had joined the League full time. It was him and Thirty-Four; an assassin droid with the head-casing of a protocol droid. Thirty-Four was a mystery.
Drexden ran upstairs, two floors. He knocked on the door. No code word this time. The door on the opposite side opened and Drexden turned, then went through. There were bombs strewn on the tables and men and women of the League conversing quietly. On one of the tables lay the body of someone Dexden knew. He didn't have time to look. In a corner, chained to the wall, was a prisoner. They had beaten his legs to mush for information, but he hadn't talked about anything other than what the Dark Lord would do to them,
The prisoner looked up and over at Drexden, a smile on his broken teeth.
"Death's in your shadow, boy." "You go'n die too."
A woman kicked him on the side of the head with the heel of her boot, the lightsabre at her hip swinging. She spat on the floor in front of the prisoner and turned back to tending to the wounded.
Drexden looked to the left, to the right - The coast was clear. He rapped on the metal door. A small slit opened, the glowing photoreceptors of a protocol droid on the other side. Its binary was familiar, he knew what to say.
"I have walked many leagues, and while I have no credits I sing for my supper." "You can't sit here."
The droid waited a second, then opened the door. Drexden darted inside, greeted the bounty hunter sitting next to the door with his exotic firearm in his lap. Drexden had heard his story: The Sith wiped out his whole company back on Tiss'sharl when they were hired to take out the Dark Lord. Afterwards, he had joined the League full time. It was him and Thirty-Four; an assassin droid with the head-casing of a protocol droid. Thirty-Four was a mystery.
Drexden ran upstairs, two floors. He knocked on the door. No code word this time. The door on the opposite side opened and Drexden turned, then went through. There were bombs strewn on the tables and men and women of the League conversing quietly. On one of the tables lay the body of someone Dexden knew. He didn't have time to look. In a corner, chained to the wall, was a prisoner. They had beaten his legs to mush for information, but he hadn't talked about anything other than what the Dark Lord would do to them,
The prisoner looked up and over at Drexden, a smile on his broken teeth.
"Death's in your shadow, boy." "You go'n die too."
A woman kicked him on the side of the head with the heel of her boot, the lightsabre at her hip swinging. She spat on the floor in front of the prisoner and turned back to tending to the wounded.