[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190319/a30d2ebd33ac426e39596a1574c78ee2.png[/img][/center][hr][hr] Eye contact was brief and purposefully so due to the storm of incoming fire that scorched the crates and hull behind her. "If it's not one damn thing it's another!" Solace cursed out aloud, taking refuge behind a barrel next to the ramp door and slamming the controls to begin the process of shutting the door. Regardless of whether those inside wanted to be aboard or not, their choices were dwindling and not exactly ideal. The three at the end of the hangar slowly approached, and although the Mandalorian was by far the most obvious and pressing concern, something was off about the Devaronian that made her feel like he was something else entirely. Nearby though, Natasha and the Kuati girl made themselves known, firing back with moderate efficacy. [color=a187be]"New girl! Forget the Mando-cunt and shot the horned bastard!"[/color] Just as soon as the words left her lips the tell-tale blue flashes of an energy field dissipated the energy of those bolts that would have hit home. Armor and a personal energy shield… That was trouble, and any experienced mercenary knew that. Worse than your normal skilled killer, these were obviously not just highly skilled, but also [i]successful[/i] if the state of their arms meant anything. Sure she might have had one or two toys of that nature hanging around the armory, and her crew was struggling to get a baradium fission device into the cargo hold before the ramp crushed it and them, or worse it got shot and went off, but there was having such things, and there was [i]using[/i] them. Every merc worth their salt had a couple things laying around for a rainy day, never mind how much she hated that phrase. For these three to use them meant that they could either afford to lose them, or that they were confident enough in their skills. Neither outcome sounded very good for their longterm prospects. What concerned her more though was that out of all three, not a single hit was found on the ship's register of bounty hunters and mercenaries. A list that she made sure that both herself and their resident information broker updated every time they made port. A list that contained not just sanctioned hired guns, but also the criminals, gang-members, assassins and more notorious individuals out there that didn't play by the rules. If these three didn't have records then either they were new, which was so unlikely as to be dismissed outright, or they had some very powerful benefactors. The kind of benefactors that could either be the Empire or the Hutts. [color=a187be][i]"Fuck. Just what we need."[/i][/color] At least Sena was safe on the upper decks and as well armed as they seemed to be, they didn't entirely think through their little plan. More than just that, she had a well-trained and experienced crew that not only out-numbered the kill team assembled before them, but they had forgotten one minor detail. It was not often that she allowed Sable to enjoy himself to such extent, but this time it felt like just such an occasion where playing light was not in their interests. [color=a187be]"To hell with mercy, no warning shots Sable. Give them a full broadside and paint the hangar walls! We'll sort it out with Port Authority later."[/color]