Post by Silas on Jan 28, 2011 23:00:37 GMT -5
“Stop! We might have a problem,” The hushed voice told him to through the commlink placed in his ear for two way conversation with his rat in the nest.
For a second he sighed as he ran his fingers through the black hair on his head whilst he wondered why he still let this person in on gigs like this, “What is it, Keno?”
For a second the sound of fingers as they viciously typed away on a datapad echoed through the connection and he could hear the little Vahla mumble to himself. There were a few words he caught that had to do with the security system that surrounded this place, which had been the boy’s only responsibility in the first place. Extra guards going off routine is one thing, but the system itself shouldn’t have posed a problem if Keno even had half a kriffing brain. Silently he waited as the man continued to abuse the datapad he worked on. Fingers turned white as they gripped the edge of a balustrade overlooking the noise of the room below.
“Got it! You should be good. Second door on the left, don’t forget,” The voice echoed through the link as he once again began to make his way down the stair case towards where the guests had assembled.
The meeting’s purpose didn’t matter at the moment, for affairs of the Mandalorians didn’t much intrigue the bounty hunter. Ice blue fingers hit the access button on the second door as he slipped into the restricted area while eyes were adverted to the man speaking above. As the door slid closed his jaw clenched a little at the layout for it wasn’t what he’d been told; instead of a quaint little hall it was more of a massive corridor. One hand went to the blaster in the holster at his side as he took a cautious step forward, weary of any trip wires that might be set about. Luck played in his favour, though, because the sensors did in fact seem to be down for the moment. However, this also meant he had less then ten minutes to get to his objective. By then the computer would reset himself and there would be just a split second when all cameras, alerts, and alarms would be able to detect him. His job was not to allow that to happen.
“I’m in, have that other door ready,” He told the man through the comm as he took off at a quick pace that simply seemed as if he was getting to his place quickly.
Weary of people that might notice him he made his way past dimly lit passages, into a bright room with a large salamander attached to a chain and finally into an office. Shaped much like an ellipse this suite was created for one reason alone; intimidation. In this current situation he felt almost sorry for the man that currently occupied the large chair in the middle, the same man that had been speaking only seconds ago. The Ferroan strode around the large desk with a look of satisfaction on his face that he had gotten this far and went to the only place that was in total sensory darkness; the chair. Made to allow the free speech of the benefactor, he had created it so that it conveniently wasn’t picked up by any security in the room. After the procession outside, the man would come in here, and he’d be met by the man in his own throne.
Upon his lap he laid the blaster he intended to shoot the man with and once again ran through the plan to get out. There was a hidden door just inches to the left that opened with the security password 8421 and would lead him through a system of tunnels that served as an escape for the man. This time it would backfire on him.
“The speech is over, get ready,” Another man’s voice whispered into his ear as he set his feet lazily upon the desk as he grabbed something off the desk to conceal his weapon with.
After a couple minutes the sound of people resonated outside as the Ferroan got prepared; the muscles in his hands tensed as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. It wasn’t nervousness, but instead adrenaline as it pumped through every vein ins his body. The heightened sense sickened him for he knew in a moment he would have to take this man’s life, but it was all for a purpose. A perfection much more important than the life of one person.
Then the door slid open and as the man saw someone sitting in his chair he stopped, “Oi! Who are you.” The voice called out.
There was a second of hesitation as he considered what he was about to do, because it would destroy a life. Every time he did this he had the same moment and once again he chose the same thing; apathy. Suddenly a voice ripped through his mic, “Wait!”
Too late. The sound reverberated through the whole office as it tore through the man’s heart while the other finished, “That’s an impostor! There’s guards with him.”
Oh gods He was supposed to have a couple moments before any arrived but they had outsmarted one of the members on his team. Right now it was time to improvise so he hopped quickly out of the chair and looked around only to find one exit. It was only a story up from the nearest sidewalk, so he took the change. With his blaster he shot several rounds into the large sheet of glass that barred his exit and jumped down out of the window with the clash of glass. As he did so, though, the sound of guards behind him finally caught onto what was going on and there too rang out the scream of a blaster.
Pain lanced down his arm and through the rest of his body as one his him, however he hadn’t been lucky enough to get his with a blaster. One of those bastards had a slug thrower with him and the shot bit deep into his skin as he fell through the air. The landing part wasn’t quite so bad as the shot as he picked himself up off the duracrete and made a mad dash away from the building in question.
Blood streamed down his arm a sound came through his commlink, “Ronan! Are you okay? What’s going on over there. Talk to me!”
While he hastily tried to blend into the crowd while fighting back the pain he growled, “No. I am not okay. You almost got me killed! Hell, I could get killed yet.” Angrily he shook his head as he moved quickly but stopped running. Quickly he ripped of his jacket to hold it tight to the wound to reduce bleeding and perhaps the stares of people around him. For many seemed concerned for him or perhaps their own safety as he finished, “Get everyone to the safe house, quick. I’ll be there soon enough.”
“Affirmative,” All three voices recited to him as radio silence ensued.
He made his way down the street as his breath rate seemed to increase; he needed to patch this wound up somewhere.
For a second he sighed as he ran his fingers through the black hair on his head whilst he wondered why he still let this person in on gigs like this, “What is it, Keno?”
For a second the sound of fingers as they viciously typed away on a datapad echoed through the connection and he could hear the little Vahla mumble to himself. There were a few words he caught that had to do with the security system that surrounded this place, which had been the boy’s only responsibility in the first place. Extra guards going off routine is one thing, but the system itself shouldn’t have posed a problem if Keno even had half a kriffing brain. Silently he waited as the man continued to abuse the datapad he worked on. Fingers turned white as they gripped the edge of a balustrade overlooking the noise of the room below.
“Got it! You should be good. Second door on the left, don’t forget,” The voice echoed through the link as he once again began to make his way down the stair case towards where the guests had assembled.
The meeting’s purpose didn’t matter at the moment, for affairs of the Mandalorians didn’t much intrigue the bounty hunter. Ice blue fingers hit the access button on the second door as he slipped into the restricted area while eyes were adverted to the man speaking above. As the door slid closed his jaw clenched a little at the layout for it wasn’t what he’d been told; instead of a quaint little hall it was more of a massive corridor. One hand went to the blaster in the holster at his side as he took a cautious step forward, weary of any trip wires that might be set about. Luck played in his favour, though, because the sensors did in fact seem to be down for the moment. However, this also meant he had less then ten minutes to get to his objective. By then the computer would reset himself and there would be just a split second when all cameras, alerts, and alarms would be able to detect him. His job was not to allow that to happen.
“I’m in, have that other door ready,” He told the man through the comm as he took off at a quick pace that simply seemed as if he was getting to his place quickly.
Weary of people that might notice him he made his way past dimly lit passages, into a bright room with a large salamander attached to a chain and finally into an office. Shaped much like an ellipse this suite was created for one reason alone; intimidation. In this current situation he felt almost sorry for the man that currently occupied the large chair in the middle, the same man that had been speaking only seconds ago. The Ferroan strode around the large desk with a look of satisfaction on his face that he had gotten this far and went to the only place that was in total sensory darkness; the chair. Made to allow the free speech of the benefactor, he had created it so that it conveniently wasn’t picked up by any security in the room. After the procession outside, the man would come in here, and he’d be met by the man in his own throne.
Upon his lap he laid the blaster he intended to shoot the man with and once again ran through the plan to get out. There was a hidden door just inches to the left that opened with the security password 8421 and would lead him through a system of tunnels that served as an escape for the man. This time it would backfire on him.
“The speech is over, get ready,” Another man’s voice whispered into his ear as he set his feet lazily upon the desk as he grabbed something off the desk to conceal his weapon with.
After a couple minutes the sound of people resonated outside as the Ferroan got prepared; the muscles in his hands tensed as the hairs on the back of his neck rose. It wasn’t nervousness, but instead adrenaline as it pumped through every vein ins his body. The heightened sense sickened him for he knew in a moment he would have to take this man’s life, but it was all for a purpose. A perfection much more important than the life of one person.
Then the door slid open and as the man saw someone sitting in his chair he stopped, “Oi! Who are you.” The voice called out.
There was a second of hesitation as he considered what he was about to do, because it would destroy a life. Every time he did this he had the same moment and once again he chose the same thing; apathy. Suddenly a voice ripped through his mic, “Wait!”
Too late. The sound reverberated through the whole office as it tore through the man’s heart while the other finished, “That’s an impostor! There’s guards with him.”
Oh gods He was supposed to have a couple moments before any arrived but they had outsmarted one of the members on his team. Right now it was time to improvise so he hopped quickly out of the chair and looked around only to find one exit. It was only a story up from the nearest sidewalk, so he took the change. With his blaster he shot several rounds into the large sheet of glass that barred his exit and jumped down out of the window with the clash of glass. As he did so, though, the sound of guards behind him finally caught onto what was going on and there too rang out the scream of a blaster.
Pain lanced down his arm and through the rest of his body as one his him, however he hadn’t been lucky enough to get his with a blaster. One of those bastards had a slug thrower with him and the shot bit deep into his skin as he fell through the air. The landing part wasn’t quite so bad as the shot as he picked himself up off the duracrete and made a mad dash away from the building in question.
Blood streamed down his arm a sound came through his commlink, “Ronan! Are you okay? What’s going on over there. Talk to me!”
While he hastily tried to blend into the crowd while fighting back the pain he growled, “No. I am not okay. You almost got me killed! Hell, I could get killed yet.” Angrily he shook his head as he moved quickly but stopped running. Quickly he ripped of his jacket to hold it tight to the wound to reduce bleeding and perhaps the stares of people around him. For many seemed concerned for him or perhaps their own safety as he finished, “Get everyone to the safe house, quick. I’ll be there soon enough.”
“Affirmative,” All three voices recited to him as radio silence ensued.
He made his way down the street as his breath rate seemed to increase; he needed to patch this wound up somewhere.
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