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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 16, 2017 12:56:51 GMT -8
He nodded at Groks words, his plans for Tarin mirroring his own thoughts on the matter. Taking his helmet from Kirith he absently brushed some dust off of it before his eyes lit up at the mention of cocoa powder, pleased that her priorities ran in line with his own.
His supply list was; cocoa powder, ammo, armour, towel and spare pair of socks. One did not simply go to war without brownies after all. The ammo and armour spoke for themselves, and the socks were a no brainer with feet as smelly as his. The towel he had got from a book where this dude insisted that a towel was essential in undertaking any extended journey. He couldn't remember the guys name. Fred? Ferd? Something like that. With his little guide on how to travel. He smiled inwardly. Good book that, he thought, wondering if it was still around somewhere...
He blinked as he came out of his reverie, glancing sideways at Kirith as he brought his attention back to the hear and now of her question.
"Uh... Algara II by way of Dressel. If we can make it we are to be there by..."
He frowned for a moment and put his helmet on. As the displyed flickered to life he checked the chrono on the message, then compared it with the local time. When his voice returned it was the metallic drawl of his helms speaker.
"Tomorrow twenty hundred our time."
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 16, 2017 14:45:38 GMT -8
"Well that doesn't give me a lot of time then to get ready, does it?" Kirith asked, hands on her hips, glaring at the Mandalorian. "You should tell Mereel a lady needs more time to prepare for such ventures."
Truth be told, she was pretty sure almost everything was ready. She had been telling herself for months she was going to leave, any day now, and had prepped the Cat's Paw with most essentials, barring perishables. She had even cleaned out one of the empty crew quarters for Maraak, on the off chance the merc had planned on sticking around wherever she planned on going next. Not that she had told him that. She often thought of him as being like some sort of mangey alleycat; one that eventually tolerated you after a liberal use of bribes in the form of food. She always had a soft spot for the mangey cat types. It explained her friendship with Corr after all these years.
She pulled out her datapad, checking the current inventory levels on her ship. Basic med supplies were a little low, but those wouldn't be hard to find. Some pantry restocking - she added a note to make sure she bought enough for two people instead of just herself. Fuel levels were full, and she normally kept extra ammo for her blaster. The rest of her stuff was already on the ship, since she more or less had been living on the ship anyway, with the exception of using the crew showers at Gork's since it beat the facilities on the Paw.
She briefly considered grabbing another towel while she was out. She had found a book in Maraak's collection at one point that insisted a towel was very important. However the book had also insisted that Nar Shaddaa was "Mostly Harmless," so she suspected the book was full of bantha dung.
"I can be ready in a few hours. Unless. . . " she looked at Gork. "You sure you don't need any help from me do you?"
"I can handle things just fine, Kir," he said. "I've been doing this mechanic thing a lot longer than you." He ruffled her hair, the result leaving it sticking up in all directions, which she self-consciously tried to pat down into place, with mixed results.
"Then, I guess I'll let Cat know then," she said, putting the datapad away and walking towards the garage door. "I'm going to swing by the market. See y'all in a few hours."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 16, 2017 16:43:54 GMT -8
Maraak smiled beneath the visor and offered a salute to the back of Kiriths head, index and middle finger taping the front of his helm at the temple in the gesture. His voice growled out from the helmet speaker with a dry...
Aye aye, Cap'n...
... before he too made for the door. A jaunty wave to Gork accompanied his brisk step as he stepped into the street, turning left and making his way towards the lights in the distance.
He too had business to attend to, affairs that had nothing to do with gathering supplies. He had built up quite a network on Nar Shaddaa during his time here. What could he say? Old habits die hard. Said network included sources of information that likely operated outside the normal channels his former colleagues had open to them. That was not to say that your average Mandalorian didn't have access to the criminal underworld. Far from it.
But their access wasn't as open and free as they may think. So it was that people like Maraak filled a very specialised niche in that world, a basic fact of life and a fact Corr, and Cassus before him, had seen all to well.
So it was that just over an hour and a half later Maraak had the information he had sought, information that didn't bode well for their trip or the chances of a nice quiet reintroduction to life outside of Gorks Mechanical Emporium...
He stood in the cavernous warehouse that had been converted into a makeshift hangar for the Cat's Paw, staring up at the Corellian Engineering YT-1300 Light Freighter with a slight frown marring his brow beneath the helmet he wore. A small bag was hung over his shoudler containing the meager supplies he'd be taking with them, mainly ammo and socks, the towel too of course! He wore his weaponry; Blaster pistol at right hip, knife at left,
bandoleer with a couple of grenades. His armour was the same as that which he wore at Gorks, the only difference was the utility belt he now wore.
Taking a couple of hesitant steps closer he paused and peered up at the cockpit, reluctant to go any closer until he had announced himself. The Cat could do pretty radical things to strangers who turned up unannounced...
Hellooohooo...
His voice echoed out of his helms speaker and sang out over the usual comm channel Kirith used, the word repeating as if careened off of the warehouse walls, drifting up to disappear out of the huge opening in the roof. The fact that the ramp was down made him pretty certain Kirith wasn't here yet and he didn't want any surprised from the ships rather quirky AI.
You awake, Cat?
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 16, 2017 18:27:06 GMT -8
A mechanical snoring sound echoed back to Maraak via the com channel. The effect was an odd one, the speaker's mechanical - yet clearly feminine snore sounding like it belonged more to a small bird rather than the AI of the a freighter. After yet another call to wakefulness from the Mandalorian, the snore was interrupted by a snort, as if mimicking a human suddenly awoken.What's that? A human deigns to approach me after these months of solitude? asked a breathy mechanical voice over the com. Art thou a handsome prince here to end this curse which has afflicted me these many planetary rotations, keeping me moon bound, unable to feel the wind beneath my hull? A pause, as the speaker considered their next words. Traditionally, such heroes must give their lady a kiss before gaining access to her secret entrance. What do you say, cyar'ika? Care to be my savior?The hull lights near the ramp flickered suggestively, like a humanoid batting their eyelashes.Clearly the ship had been reading cheap romance novels again.
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 16, 2017 19:00:33 GMT -8
The head of the Mandalorian tilted to the side at the rather odd barrage of questions, the frown underneath the helm only deepening. A slight shrug lifted and dropped the shoulders, confusion evident in the mans voice. Seriously, he would never get used to the strange personality that the Cat's Paw seemed to manifest, wondering for what felt like the thousandth time how the hell such a AI had developed.
Uh... I guess so. I mean... If you want?
He shrugged again, head tilting to the side once again. He was always unsure how to respond without Kirith here, tending to avoid being alone in the ships presence. He always ended up leaving feeling somehow violated...
We have a job so you'll get to fly soon.
A slight pause again.
So... You gonna let me in?
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 16, 2017 19:20:35 GMT -8
The ship sighed, the hull lights visibly dimming for a few moments.
You're no fun, The ship almost seemed to pout. Worse than Kirith, if that's even possible.
Another sigh, before the ramp lowered. Sure, come on in. Kirith said she would here in a few minutes. She had a few things left she wanted to grab.
As the Mandalorian entered the ship, lights along the ceiling directed him towards the passage to the right. Kirith already prepped one of the spare crew quarters for you. Clean sheets and everything. I guess she finally felt bad for your stalker ass.
Another thoughtful pause.
Not that having you around isn't useful. You might be a boring stalker, but one can't deny, you're certainly . . . useful. I can see why Sid would choose you. That woman always did have excellent taste in men.
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 17, 2017 12:50:47 GMT -8
Following the lights along the curved corridor Maraak listened to the ship chatter away to herself, marveling again at how such complexities could have manifested upon what was really a glorified computer. That thought made him smile somewhat as he imagined the explosion of indignation that would erupt from Cat should she have heard that thought. A door slid open ahead of him, on the left, and he stepped into the crew quarters that would be his for the duration of his trip, pulling his helmet off as he did so.
He could tell that they had recently been cleared out. The sheets were indeed fresh and there was a faint aroma in the air, a woody fragrance that caused him to wrinkle his nose slightly. While not unpleasant it was an artificial attempt and therefore lacked substance, rather like when one put sweetener instead of sugar in his caff.
His eyes zeroed in on a small cardboard tree hanging near the door, the source of the smell. It was some kind of scent freshener he guessed, poking it with his finger and causing it to spin around to reveal the words "Have an aromatic day!" printed on the back. A slight shake of his head preceded him turning and dropping his bag and helmet onto the bunk.
The rest of the room was sparse, space a premium on a starship after all. Especially on a freighter. The bunk took up most of the far wall while a small storage unit was built into the wall to the left of the door. A mirror adorned the wall just outside a fresher and that was about it.
Plenty for one as utilitarian minded as Maraak.
He tuned back into the ships diatribe in time to hear the last line, a slight guffaw of laughter escaping him.
"Really...? He spoke to the air. "I thought you didn't like Corr?"
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 17, 2017 15:05:37 GMT -8
"When you've been left alone rusting on some gods forsaken moon for as long as I have, you start to miss the good old days. Plus it was fun to watch him and Sid flirt." replied the ship cheekily. "I'm just finally glad Kirith finally decided to finish her defrag or os update or whatever it humans do when they want to be alone for awhile and is ready to fly again."
Clearly, human mental health and facilities were lost on the ship Or else she just considered her human (for Kirith was, after all, hers, not the other way around) to be so close to an honorary droid the ship just assumed Kirith operated like one. Only with smooshy bits instead of metal bits.
And a decided lack of appreciation in kissy books. Which the Cat found to be a failing in her human, never mind that was normally considered a human pastime, not a droids.
- - -
Kirith made her way to the space dock she had been keeping the ship after making a brief stop at the command center to stop her automatic payments for her docking spot. No point to continue paying for a spot if she wasn't going to be around. Over her back she held a large sack filled with the supplies - enough medical supplies, ammo, food to last her and Maraak for a few trips, providing they didn't take on any unexpected passengers. She figured she could always pick up more later if whatever this mysterious job was required it.
Noticing the loading ramp was down, Kirith called out a "Yo, Maraak, you here?"
Sure, ignore me, came the peeved reply from the ship.
Kirith smiled, knocking her knuckles against the wall of the ship as she headed towards the communal area. "And hello to you too, Cat."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 17, 2017 17:15:09 GMT -8
He rolled his eyes as the ship launched into another tirade of awkwardness that he was ill equipped to comment on. Done with his investigation of his cabin he ambled lazily down the ring corridor and wandered into the lounge, flopping down heavily into the seat on one side of the Dejarik board. He absently fiddled with the controls for a moment, causing the six-inch holograms to spawn in, their little blue outlines flexing and growling menacingly.
He liked the layout of this old YT-1300. They had a more homely design than the later, newer models. The central location of the lounge in which he sat allowed for easy access to the engine below, cargo areas to the rear, dorsal and ventral guns, and the cockpit to the front right. A small galley to his right also offered limited but adequate cooking facilities, the thought of which made him realise he hadn't eaten yet.
He was rummaging through the galley when Kiriths voice floated up to him from near the ramp, causing him to spin around and jam his hands behind his back, a look of guilt on his face and a packet of biscuits concealed behind him.
"Uh... Yeah... I'm here..."
He quickly stuffed the packet back in a the small cupboard and shoved the biscuits into his mouth, speaking around the obstacle.
"Anph owtawy owt weetin owr bwiswitz..."
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 18, 2017 9:37:41 GMT -8
Kirith entered the galley, a bag of groceries in hand, just as she saw him quickly shove the biscuits back in the cupboard. Kirith raised an eyebrow at the Mandalorian.
"Welp, I guess the nerf steaks I got for dinner later tonight all go to me, since you clearly have already eaten your meal of stale biscuits."
She frowned, leaning around him to grab the box out of the cupboard to examine it.
"Seriously, I have no idea how long those have been in there. I think they expired months ago. Hope it doesn't cause any . . . " she glanced at Maraak before looking back at the box, " . . . issues."
The corner of her lip twitched slightly, the only action that actually betrayed the fact that she had bought the biscuits only last week, and was only giving him a hard time because he looked so guilty. It was found it fun to tease the Mandalorian.
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 18, 2017 12:22:26 GMT -8
He ceased his chewing for a moment then frantically upped the pace, his jaw working in overdrive to grind up the tasty biscuits with his teeth. He looked like there was a battle going on in his mouth, wide eyes highlighting the mad dance going n below them. Finally done he swallowed noticeably, comically, before speaking again with a gruff, manly...
"I've eaten worse..."
His eyes now sparkled with their own amusement now as he leaned closer, conspiratorially even.
"Believe me..."
Straightening his posture he took the box out of her hand and checked the date himself, offering a look of mock outrage when he saw she was fibbing about the date. Turning away shaking his head in a world-weary manner he set the box down on the small counter and moved over the the Dejarik table, dumping himself down in the seat with excessive drama.
"See what I have to deal with..." He said to nobody in particular. "Everyone making fun of the silly Mando!"
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Oct 18, 2017 19:17:39 GMT -8
"But you make it so easy," teased Kirith, laughing as she dragged the groceries into the galley and began securing everything for liftoff (including the promised steak).
It didn't take too long to put everything away, and soon Kirith was making her way to the cockpit to begin the preflight checklist. "You might want to strap in for takeoff," she called back to the Mandalorian. Nar Shaddaa airspace, especially in this sector, can get a little dicey sometimes. Too many Corellians thinking they're the next hot shot pilot.
"I seem to recall you being a young Corellian thinking they were a hot shot pilot when we first met," came the ship's voice from a speaker positioned above the entrance to the cockpit..
"I didn't think it," said Kirith. "I was one."
As the lights on the cockpit lit up and the ship began to raise she added with a grin, "I am one."
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Post by Orar Traat'aliit on Oct 19, 2017 7:00:42 GMT -8
Not one to take a backseat in any endeavor Maraak rose from his seated position and trailed after Kirith as she made her way to the cockpit. The voice of the ships AI came just as he stepped through the portal into the cockpit making him start slightly, causing him to throw an irritable look at the offending speaker as he dropped easily into the copilot chair.While certainly no pilot he wasn't completely ignorant of the details involved in preparing a ship for flight and did his best to help Kirith in her tasks, with much consternation and slapping of hands on the part of the mechanic, and with much amusement from Cat.As the ship lifted smoothly through the open roof of the warehouse Maraak leaned back in his chair, pulling the harness over his shoulders as per the earlier recommendation. He was not a comfortable passenger at the best of times and Kirith had shown a propensity in the past for 'putting her foot down' as it were. With the ship free of the warehouse that had housed it for so long the sublights kicked in to propel them through the heavy Nar Shaddaa traffic and into space...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2018 19:18:16 GMT -8
A pair of XJ X-wings and an ETA-2 Actis-class Interceptor descended down through the atmosphere, weaving their way through the usual traffic of the Smuggler's Moon. Rawkill shifted up in his seat, so that he could get a good view as R9-J1 piloted the Interceptor down toward the Corellian Sector. Due to the Ewok Jedi Master's diminutive stature, he had trouble piloting most regular craft. But thankfully, R9-J1 had been programmed specially to pilot ships for him. Lest he constantly have to take much larger ships out on missions.
Today's mission, was one such mission that required a smaller craft. Thanks to a number of contacts, he had learned of the existence of another relic here on Nar Shaddaa. One that he was certain Atlantia Ren would also be after. Especially since the information his contacts had managed to get him, matched up with the descriptions given in the texts he had already gathered.
It was not long, before all three craft slowed their descents, before coming to a stop as their landing gears extended and they touched down. Rawkill was the first to exit his ship, before turning to the X-wings, as Constance and Athos disembarked their respective fighters. The pair quickly made their way over to him, before giving a bow in greeting. It warmed his heart to see his two former Padawans once more
Constance, Athos.... Welcome to Nar Shaddaa
Thank you Master Rawkill. It's a pleasure to see you again. Though, I admit, I am curious why you chose us?
It is a pleasure to see you both as well... As to why I chose the pair of you? You are both accomplished Jedi Knights. And I know what you are both capable of, which is quite important for this mission...
If recent experience had taught Rawkill anything. These relics were not to be trifled with. Their acquisition was becoming more dangerous. Especially after the Smuggler's Run had proven that more than just the Jedi and the Knights of Ren were after these items. From the report given by the Jedi he had dispatched to the Smuggler's Run, an interested third party had caused quite the uproar to obtain the holocron that had been found there. And while he knew the Jedi were prepared for what ever danger faced them in the line of duty. He did not care to needlessly send Jedi into such situations. Especially when he had alternatives. People he could trust
Speaking of, I suppose I should tell you why you're here... As I know you are both aware, the train heist on Garqi put into my possession an artefact and manuscript dating back to the days of the Eternal Empire. Which, if you both remember, was founded by Vitiate under the guise of Valkorion...
Constance and Athos both nodded in understanding. Remembering their history lessons on famous Sith and the many wars between the Empire and Republic dating back to the days of the Old Republic
I am still unsure of what she or her master intends with this artefacts. But the fact that she wants them, is reason enough to ensure they remain locked away... Which is why we are here. A holocron has surfaced in the possession of a black market dealer. We must obtain it before Atlantia and the First Order does.
You can count on us Master. We'll follow your lead, as we always have.
Thank you both...
Rawkill turned and headed away from the landing pad then, the pair of Jedi Knights following close in his footsteps as he lead the way out into the city...
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on Jan 18, 2018 18:00:13 GMT -8
The Upsilon-class Command Shuttle descended down through the atmosphere. It's wings spread wide, like a bird of prey descending from the heavens. Atlantia Ren stood in the darkened troop bay, as she sensed the ship slow its descent and movement forward. Coming to an almost complete stop as its wings folded up to their landing position. The landing struts extending as it descended down to the landing pad below. Atlantia braced herself as the Shuttle touched down and its weight settled upon the struts. The upper wing sections folding down to their landed position.
The landing ramp descended just in front of him. The light of the Corellian Sector spilling in through the opening as she descended the ramp. Almost immediately she felt his presence within the Force. Causing her to halt at the bottom of the ramp. So, he was here. Just as she suspected he would be. Then again, all she had to do, was leave out breadcrumbs for him to follow. And like the unwitting fool he was. He had eagerly followed them. Right into Atlantia's trap
What a fool... Walking straight into his doom...
Atlantia made her way off the landing pad and disappeared off into the city, towards the location she knew the artefact was... and where Rawkill would meet his end...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2018 8:28:35 GMT -8
Business was booming within the Corellian Sector as the patronage of the Ajuur Cartel was ensuring the market thrived. The acquisition of Kessel had caused the black markets to boom with spice trade, now under the control of the Hutts. The streets were patrolled by professional mercenaries, in the pay of Nasir, but also augmented by droids, designed by the Hutt Cartel as soldiers and police. The oddest of which were the Hutt Guard and Security Droids that mirrored the appearance of their makers, their metallic tails slithering along the cold durasteel streets of the planet.
Nasir had set up his own establishment within the Corellian Sector, a casino which was bought out due to not following Cartel regulations and turned into the den of the Zygerrian. New places began to dot the sector as organizations aligned themselves with the revived Cartel and established an embassy and market on Nar Shadda, under the watchful gaze of the Zygerrian Slaver and Warlord.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2019 12:13:50 GMT -8
The Upsilon-class Command Shuttle descended down through the atmosphere. It's wings spread wide, like a bird of prey descending from the heavens. Atlantia Ren stood in the darkened troop bay, as she sensed the ship slow its descent and movement forward. Coming to an almost complete stop as its wings folded up to their landing position. The landing struts extending as it descended down to the landing pad below. Atlantia braced herself as the Shuttle touched down and its weight settled upon the struts. The upper wing sections folding down to their landed position.
The landing ramp descended just in front of him. The light of the Corellian Sector spilling in through the opening as she descended the ramp. Almost immediately she felt his presence within the Force. Causing her to halt at the bottom of the ramp. So, he was here. Just as she suspected he would be. Then again, all she had to do, was leave out breadcrumbs for him to follow. And like the unwitting fool he was. He had eagerly followed them. Right into Atlantia's trapWhat a fool... Walking straight into his doom...Atlantia made her way off the landing pad and disappeared off into the city, towards the location she knew the artefact was... and where Rawkill would meet his end...
It did not particularly surprise him that this world seemed to draw him back so often. It was a lawless world, run by smuggles and criminals. Impossible to tame by anyone.
They rounded a corner and slipped down an alleyway. Rawkill left his blades secured to his belt and back as he approached the large metal looking door. The sign above indicating that it was a secure storage facility of some sort. As he came to a stop, an electronic sounding voice playedPlease state your purpose here...We are here to attend Jorgensens Auction...Checking... Checking... Authorization received...The door shook and then split apart in the middle. Rolling along tracks far enough to allow the three Jedi to enter through, before the doors closed behind them. Leaving them in complete darkness for a few moments... |
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Harnan Ren
Knights of Ren
Posts: 601
Affiliation: Knights of Ren
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Post by Harnan Ren on May 18, 2019 22:33:29 GMT -8
Atlantia's crossguard saber ignited a few moments later, casting a menacing crackling red glow. The lights blazed to light then, as several local thugs raised their blasters at the trio of Jedi. She smiled behind the emotionless mask. Her plan had worked perfectly
Master Rawkill... I see you have brought some friends...
Atlantia pulled out the golden holocron then, letting Rawkill get a good look at it
Looking for this? I'm afraid you're too late...
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on May 25, 2019 13:45:36 GMT -8
Rawkill raised his raw arm and shielded his eyes within the shadow of his paw. Giving his sight a moment to adjust, before lowering it as Atlantia and several thugs came into view. He and his apprentices raised their hands as if to give up, not wanting to agitate a premature shot. It did not overly surprise him that this had all been a set up. Truth be told he should have prepared far better for it. But he suspected any attempt to foil this would have only lead to Atlantia escaping
Atlantia... A trap of your doing I take it? You knew this was here huh? Paid in advanced and convinced these men to work for you? I cannot let you and your Master have that...
Flicking his wrists slightly, his pair of sabers flew up into his grip and ignited, Constance and Athos both swinging into action to deflect the blaster fire as Rawkill charged at Atlantia
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McCreedy
The Organization
Colonel Benjamin McCreedy at your service.
Posts: 17 
Affiliation: The Organization, Perses Project
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Post by McCreedy on Oct 2, 2019 18:50:28 GMT -8
*The smell of fear lingered in the air as the sound of stumbling footsteps moved quickly down the alley, splashing in puddles and kicking trash about. 'Help Me' shouts a man from the alley, but the noisy streets and tall buildings of Nar Shaddaa keep the cries for help from escaping the alley. He looks back frantically into the darkness, he sees nothing but shadow, hears nothing but the the sound of his own panicked breathing. His eyes dart all around and for a moment he feel relief begin to surface, had he escaped? Had he made it? His breathing slows, his heart stops pounding his rib cage and a smile creeps across his face. He laughs to himself and wipes some sweat from his brow, 'I made it' he mutters to himself in disbelief as he holds his hand on his chest. The portly human man had almost ran himself to death, but he was elated that he was just fast enough and he ran just long enough to find a safe place.
At least until the shot rang out of the darkness and a slug went through his leg like hot knife through butter that brought him to his knees screaming in pain. The shadows seem to reach out like a hand to envelop the man and his expression changes from one of excruciating pain to unadulterated terror as a figure steps out of the darkness and stares at the man.* "Harlan Waters." *'Who are you?!' the man screams at the figure in the wide brimmed hat. The figure stands in menacing silence as the man, Harlan, tries to crawl away.* "No one. Just a ghost." *The figure drew closer to Harlan until he was standing right above him.* "I have to hand it to you Harlan, for a man of your size you've been difficult to find." *'Help!' Harlan screams in desperation as a boot comes across his face knocking a few teeth out with it. 'Why? 'Why are you doing this?!' he begs after he spits out his broken, blood soaked teeth.*
"Crystal Lengworth." *A shot rips through Harlan's arm accompanied by another painful scream.* "Victoria Talish." *Another shot to his other arm.* "Elly Sommers." *Another shot goes into Harlan's other leg.* "Hilda Hightower." *A shot to the groin.* "Bea Lasiter." *And finally a shot to the belly.* "All murdered by you and your former associates. *The figure begins to reload his weapon as he continues.* For these crimes you have been sentenced to death, sentence to be carried out," *The figure pauses as he draws a second hand cannon and takes aim at Harlan with both weapons.* "immediately." *'NO!' Harlan screams out as the dark figure unloads his two hand cannons into Harlan's head and then body, leaving the alley painted red.*
*The figure holster's his smoking guns, removes his hat and reaches inside, thoughtfully pulls out a folded piece of paper and pen, opens it and looks over the list, crosses Harlan's name off then folds it back up and places the paper back in his hat, then returns his hat to his head. He looks at Harlan's body for a moment then turns and walks away.* "There's still work to be done McCreedy." *And just like that, he disappears once more into the shadows.*
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