[OPEN] Gatecrash

[Galavant]

1

Melrava Memorial Apartment Complex, Nar Shaddaa​

The Melrava Memorial Complex wasn't a place that Addipos had ever been before. He'd never had much reason, and being a Hutt and all, it wasn't really his scene. The white, futuristic, ritzy look had look signs of influence from Rishi, and Kamino. Influence from the Kormtha, and more than that influence from Jack. Everything the human had touched in the Cartel had a certain look to it, whether it was the Paradise, or the products being put out by Praxus-Pondervan these days. It wasn't a look that Addipos really cared for, he was in favor of the classic bronzes, and muted greens of more traditional Hutt styles. But the humans, and other aliens who worked in the Cartel seemed to like it, and Addipos was no idiot. He wasn't going to change something that clearly working, and risk upsetting those under the Hutt's domain. The Hutt's were not a majority in their own space. They might be on the top of the food chain, but any of their kind that forgot the demographpic breakdown of their own space was just asking for trouble. It wasn't a system that could continue forever, and Addipos knew it, which was why he was doing his best to make sure that the people who were actually doing kriffing something for the Cartel were the ones who're in a position of power.

And that was what had brought him to the Complex. Home to a number of rooms, and floors, that belonged to various higher ups that weren't Hutt in the Cartel, he wanted to see how it was the other half (well more like 9/10th's) lived. See what made people like Mjolla, and Veszk really tick. the complex wasn't one of those buildings where the further up you went, the richer the place became. It was one of those places where it was rich on every level, and it showed. But Addipos was still on a floor towards the top of the building, taking a bit of a rest, and looking out over the cityscape of Nar Shaddaa. Addipos was old, even by Hutt standards. And he probably did more than the next twelve Hutts combined in terms of actual work, trying to keep the Cartel not only working but expanding. He was entitled to a little rest every now and again damnit. Looking out over the city, he could see the congested airways, the dozens of ships taking off, and landing. A Pelta-2 in particular caught his eye, as it lazily drifted through the skies, a little close to the complex, but not overly so.

That started to change very subtlety. First it looked like the freighter was starting to list drunkenly. Not a huge deal, as it was very likely that someone on board was in fact drunk.

Then it started to really turn towards the building.

Then it started to pitch downwards.

Then it started to get bigger.

And bigger.

And bigger.

It didn't take a genius to see that it was heading for the complex.

Addipos started to nervous as it did. The complex was well within an area that was actively protected by fighter patrols. Why weren't they responding?

All around him people were starting to run, but the old Hutt didn't much of a point in trying. If the freighter was going to ram the complex, there wasn't much that moving was going to do. But the complex was much, much, much bigger than the freighter. And the Pelta-2 wasn't a small ship herself. But as the freighter approached, it became clear that it wasn't going to be hitting the apartments.

At least not near the top.

The ship's course was taking it down towards the bottom floor of the complex. The massive lobby at the bottom had an armored glass facing that ran up the first dozen or so floors. That wasn't going to be good enough to stop the freighter. The ship wasn't traveling particularly fast when it hit the complex, it's repulsorlift array struggling to keep the massive bulk from falling like a rock, almost as though it wasn't trying to do so much damage that it collapsed.

When it hit the glass facade the entire complex shook, a most unsettling feeling if the old Hutt had ever felt one. In the lobby the glass shattered, and the ship skidded across the open area, indiscriminately running over anyone, and anything that happened to be in the way before hitting the central lift stalk that went up the length of the building. It a dug trench in the floor as it went, and knocked down all manner of support pillars, and interior decorations. The lobby was so large however, that the freighter fit inside with room to spare. The Melrava complex was not small by any stretch of the imagination, and though Hutts mostly didn't call it home, it had been designed to allow their bulk to get through comfortably. The building shook more as the ship came to a stop in the lobby, and secondary explosions started to go off, from where the ship had hit something important, and caused it to go boom. Smoke, and dust filled the lobby, obscuring what happened to next any of the dazed survivors.

Men clad in the standard white Rivet-armor, wielding VL-9 blasters, and goggles that would let them see through the dust and smoke they'd raised up started to disembark. The Pelta-2 could carry up to 1,500 passengers, so needless to say there were a lot of them swarming out of the freighter. The survivors of the initially catastrophe wouldn't be surviving long as the men and women of various species (but mostly human) started to establish themselves in the lobby, killing anyone still breathing.

Up above, Addipos had no idea any of this was happening, save for that the freighter had crashed into the place. All he did know was that the power had gone out, the hallways were filled with chaos, and the building was groaning as the supports that hadn't been severed struggled to keep the weight of it up. He knew that aid hadn't started to come, which was something of a shock. The local starfighter patrol contingent should have been swooping over the building by now at the very least.

All he knew was that he really wanted to get out, and there didn't seem to be much option for that at the moment, except to head down. Making his way into the interior of the darkened apartment, the old Hutt had no trouble seeing where he was going, thanks to the visible spectrum available to his species. Red emergency lights had started to flash, and a very annoying buzzer was going off as well, just in case someone had missed the earlier explosions somehow.

And while the old Hutt made his way down, the mystery party on the ground floor started to get to work heading up. Most of their number was occupied establishing a perimeter, and making sure the power didn't restore, whilst a small number started to assemble some repulsor platforms where the lifts had once ended.

Whatever their goal was, one thing was clear.

Addipos was definitely going to be looking into another building for the higher ups of the Cartel to make their home, assuming he lived through this.

​

 

[TAC]

Truth be told, the young prospect had little reason to be in the tall, powerful Melrava Memorial Apartment Complex on Nar Shaddaa. The facility was strictly for the use of the non-Hutt higher-ups of the Cartel, simply for the reason that they could afford it. Being the Captain of a frigate ensured you lived comfortably, but there was definitely some room for upwards promotion as far as she could see.

Isabella Dealto, the new Captain of one of the Cartel's Corona-K's, had made her way to the large building on the request of a rather affluent member of the Cartel. The charming Devaronian had invited her to a party of his the night before, and she had been vaguely interested to see what the to-do was about at the Melrava. Unfortunately for her the party had been quite to her taste, too few fist fights, and she had made an early departure after graciously thanking the host for the invitation. He had made it quite clear he wanted her to stay, but the more firm he was the closer to the door she was.

As she walked along the corridor towards the lift, the entire building shook with a large explosion. Isabella reached out to the wall, steadying herself, a hand on one of her batons. What in the name of all the hutts... Her thought was interrupted by doors opening up all around her as the red emergency lights dimly lit the hallway. The door she stood across from opened, and an incredibly angry trandosian made his way, hissing and sputtering as he walked with a determined gate towards the door.

Seeing smoke bellowing up not far from the window, the young Lorrdian glanced down the hall. The Trandosian had disappeared into a sea of people, and so she quietly and quickly stole into his land, running to the window that faced outwards. Below her was a scene of destruction, a crashed ship that had smashed into the building. The thought puzzled her, being that this building held so many important people, but she swept the thought away. The building was standing for the moment, but the young pirate had no interest in finding out how long that might be the case.

She rushed back towards the door, but stopped in the doorway as she saw the figure making way to his own door from across the hall. Surprisingly for the setting, it was a large - and from what she could tell, old - Hutt. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, however, as she realized just which large and old hutt this was. While she had never seen the being in her life, the holograms did the Hutt justice - it could not be any Hutt other than Addipos, the leader of the Hutt Cartel. Isabella stood quietly in the doorway, not wanting to bring attention to herself by getting in his way. If Addipos was in the building and there were explosions, it did not mean good things, and her desire to leave grew. She wondered for a moment which of the beings piled into the halls around the lifts were his guards, because they did not make themselves very obvious, and that made her very uncomfortable.

 

[Phoenix]

Melrava was no place to turn your nose up to. Tal Veren had been called in to discuss some of his current business dealings, particularly those involving a personal vendetta that, although it had been in the Cartel’s best interest, had not been – strictly speaking – approved. Regardless, after a short meeting with one of the Cartel higher ups, he had convinced them of the necessity and left with their blessing.

A quick shuffle out of the man’s room and he was waiting for the turbolift, when his eye caught sight of the incoming frigate. With its rather outstanding size, it was a little bit hard to miss, and the impact that rocked the building moments later was even harder to miss. It felt for a moment like the entire building would come down, and Tal’s hand, crushgaunt and all, wrapped around a nearby doorway to make sure that he didn’t fall with the coming impact.

For a moment his concern was that the entire building would come down in a heap as the shaking seemed to be growing until suddenly, and without warning, the building came back to rest, at least for now. The lights went out and the hallways began to slowly fill with disgruntled people, some of whom he respected and some of whom really got on his nerves. They were the kind of idiots that would run around screaming at random people for no apparent reason save for their own panic.

He found himself once again thankful that his armor really was a second skin to him. With a few flicks of his eyes, the entire area came to life with a pale green glow that cut through the darkness as his NVGs kicked in. The first thing he noticed was that the building had no one coming toward it. No Cartel soldiers, no support crew, no emergency vehicles. In fact, the outside of the building seemed to be rather quiet, which put him a bit on edge. Nothing about this seemed normal, though he had no evidence that it wasn’t. Only his own instincts, but then, gut feelings were usually your subconscious trying to tell you something.

Regardless of the reason for the crash, the groaning of the supports made it clear that he was going to need to get out of this building soon.

 

[Galavant]

Somewhat contrary towards the action they'd undertaken up until now, the group that had crashed a freighter into the Complex was now turning its attention towards strengthening the supports they'd just collapsed. There were more than enough of them to man the perimeter, start sending people up via the repulsor platforms they'd established, and start working on the building a little as well. As much as they'd intentionally crashed into it, they also didn't want it collapsing on top of them. That would, very obviously, be bad for them. This whole part of the plan had been meticulously worked out, if the pilot had been off even a little...well they wouldn't be doing so well.

Additional repulsor platforms were assembled, and attached to the supports that had been snapped. They wouldn't do for the long term, but in the short term they'd keep things standing up, and that was important. One team however was assembling something rather peculiar. Using yet another repulsor platform as the top end of an ad hoc pull they tied a very strong cable to the back of the ship they'd come in on one end, and a proton bomb on the other. The implication would have been obvious to anyone present, with the length of the cable the plan was that as soon the ship took off the bomb would be pulled up...and then the cable would snap and it would suddenly drop.

Meanwhile on the platforms already established where the turbolift shafts had run, teams started moving into place, and funneling up. Floor 1, floor 2, floor 3, one by one teams were deposited on each one. There was a brief delay when the first team to deploy on another level called the turbolifts down to the lobby...which didn't end well for the occupants. On each floor, a team of sixteen split into smaller groups of four, and started to clear out the floors. And their version of clear out was very literal. Anyone they came across was shot dead, and anyone they even thought was still breathing was shot again. They weren't here to take hostages, well at least not of anyone so unimportant as the regular beings that scampered about the building. Occupants, maids, bellboys, didn't matter.

Addipos started to really get worried as the reports of blasterfire became louder, and louder, a very obvious sign of progression upwards. It wouldn't be too long before they were on the floor he was on. And when they were...

His guards fell in droves, but they did the job they were paid for; keeping him alive. The old slug wasn't fast, but did his best to get out of the line of fire as shots poured down the hallway from where the lift was. Like on the previous floors, it was a group of four that had emerged from this particular lift. The other 3 groups in the team were also on the floor, mowing down anyone in their way, but weren't facing the direction, Addipos was.

The old Hutt sighed, trying to think of what he could possibly do to actually get out of this one. This was why Hutts paid people to fight damnit! Sure in his youth he could have dreamed of acting like the Hutt Warriors of days past, but he was so far past his prime that he doubted he could lift a Hutt battleaxe, but much less wield one effectively.

It's going to be one of those centuries, the old Hutt thought as the four mercenaries headed down the hall, and in his direction.

 

[Phoenix]

Tal made his way down a set of stairs and down two floors. Suffice it to say, this was the second time recently that stairs had come in handy for him. He didn’t plan to ever knock stairs again. He soon discovered a slight problem though. Apparently while he was going down, there was someone – or multiple someones - coming up the stairs and he could see that they were well armed and armored.

He paused for a second as he looked over the railing and down into the stairwell below. There was no doubt that now was the time to get off of the stairs and away from whoever was coming up. He pulled his Verpine pistol and flipped the selector switch to supersonic rounds. He considered dropping a grenade down to slow the pursuers, but decided not to, instead slamming into the door and out onto the floor he was level with, though he didn’t know what floor it was.

The sight that greeted him moments later was a Hutt at the end of a hall, dead guards on the floor, and a small team of mercenaries making their way down the hall. It didn’t take but a moment for him to realize that the Hutt was none other than Addipos, after all, it always paid to know your employer… literally.

He wasn’t going to let his employer get killed, I mean, that’s bad for business. That, of course, meant that he didn’t have much time, and he wasn’t one for indecision. He brought his pistol up and fired at the man in the rear of the group and hit him in the back of the head, spewing brains all over the pristine white armor of the man in front of him, which quickly got everyone’s attention.

The mercenary next to the dead man spun around, only to catch a pair of rounds in the chest, the super-sonic round smashing through the stomach armor and causing the man to reel forward as his friends began to open fire. On the bright side, at least he had drawn the attention away from the Grand Lord. He could deal with these jokers himself. He dove behind a corner as blaster fire tore through the wall just behind where he had been standing moments ago.

Weren’t these guys using Cartel tech? Who are these guys?

 

[Nor'baal]

''Well, we can always round it up to the nearest thousand darlings.'' drawled Sly Jones as the group of 'night guests' counted out their payment, whilst Sly tightened up his tie and got his blasters ready for the day ahead. Never pay for something you can get for free, the Slave trader reminded himself as one by one the guests of his keeled over, the poison on the credits chits working its magic well within the time it had said on the bottle. He would have felt sad, miserable, or some other silly emotion as he stepped over the bodies, but then he thought about the money he had just saved, and decided he was actually rather pleased.

That was of course, until he stepped outside, opening the sound proofed door and nearly got his face blasted off. He got a quick look at the attackers, white armored, clearly some form a Mercenary Band. They appeared to be aiming at a Hutt. He ducked back behind the door, and drew his blasters. He stepped out and aimed down the corridor.

''You people, just have NO frakking manners!'' he said, before watching as the assailants keeled over. Someone it seemed had shot them already. He shook his head, ''Come on! I was looking forward to that!'' he cried as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. ''I mean really, you cannot just bust up a fellas home like that!'' Sly continued as he walked toward the Hutt, who appeared to be looking for an escape.

''If there is any space on your ship Pal, I don't take up much room that's all I am sayin'.'' he said, as he drew his guns again, and covered the Hutts exit.

 

[Candar Syphyx]

Rich, jaded, addicted clients. The best clients, in Candar's eyes. Just make some sob story about labor costs up, and they'll pay prices double that of the usual for a fix, some of the 'seasoning', as those versed in deal slang called spice. That was the only reason the lowly Cartel slaver/spicer found himself at Melrava. He wasn't, overall, a fan of the place. It served to remind him of how much upward growth he had yet to achieve in the Cartel, and the stark futuristic look was too.... Clean, unnaturally sparse.

As expected, he had grabbed the credits and was just making his way out when he happened to glance through the large window. "Oh, and here I was thinking this deal was gonna go without a hitch." He had seen what looked like a freighter... On a collision course with the building. Luckily, it seemed like they didn't want everyone dead just yet, because when the inevitable crash occurred, there was no sensation of falling followed by a sensation of death.

As his client lay smiling and drooling on one of the couches in the room, Candar pulled out his Azalus pistol, always on him, cautiously opened the door and looked outside. He could hear the blasterfire getting closer, and realized that these men, whoever they were, were most likely not here to buy drugs or have a chat. That was when he saw one of the white armored hooligans. He seemed to be separated from a group, based on the way he was frantically talking on a comlink and sweeping the hall with his blaster.

Too easy. As quietly as he could manage, he walked the several yard distance to the man. Extending his claws as he drew nearer, the man heard and instantly whipped around. Sidestepping and moving closer to avoid possible fire, he raised the pistol, and brought it down in a heavy swing, intending to cleave the poor loner's head in two. With surprising quickness, he raised his armored arm to block the attack. Unfortunately, it managed to lodge itself in the crack between armor plates. Howling, he instantly brought his hands to the pistol.

Mistake. Capitalizing on his vulnerability, Candar finished the job by taking his claws and jabbing them through his neck. Retrieving his pistol, he continued to walk through the floor, on guard for more. Down one of the previously pristine halls he spotted several people.... and a Hutt.

Not just any Hutt either, even Candar recognized the one before him. Walking briskly towards the group, he calls out "These guys screwed up a perfectly good deal, any plans to get out of here?"

 

[Kuro Claros]

Kuro had decided to get some fresh air on the roof after sitting in the lobby for 30 minutes while waiting for someone to show up. He'd met a potential business partner (fellow Prospect wanting to help out with missions) and they were about to strike up a short partnership. The guy seemed to not have heard of punctuality, and Kuro was getting bored watching the rich and the famous glancing at their platinum-tinted watches and whatnot. Thus, he decided to go up to the roof and admire his birth-planet.

And now, Kuro glanced across the beautiful landscape of the city. Glittering lights, skyscrapers, and a freighter. Such a mesmerizing sight, which only showed how far the Smuggler's Moon has gone since it was last wrecked. He blinked. A freighter? Kuro slid down his mask, in case it might've been his eyes playing tricks on him, but no, there was truly a craft hurling toward the building's base. "Oh, frakking Bantha dung," he murmured. "A terrorist attack?" He grabbed on to a railing when the building shook, and flipped out his blasters, making sure they're powered up and ready for battle. After a quick sigh and a back-stretch, Kuro threw open the doors that lead back into the building, and was welcomed by pandemonium the way he had never seen before. Those unlucky enough to live here were running around, holding their most prized possesions, and basically climbing over each other to get out. This was the top floor, yet people were still freaking out about a freighter crashing into the lobby.

BEE BEE BEE BEE BEE

Of course. The flashing red lights were a must.

Kuro pushed his way through the stair-case, grateful for how spacious it was, and walked out onto the hall several floors beneath. What caused him to stop was notincing a large figure slowly moving around the hallway. He stepped closer, and saw that it was the most significant being to the Cartel, its leader, Addipos the Elder. This realization was certainly out of the ordinary, and even Kuro had to raise his eyebrows.

He sprinted to him and bowed, then turned to the other mercenaries that had gathered around the Granee Lorda.

 

[Topher Ridge]

So this is where the more affluent spent their days on Nar Shaddaa, the Melrava. He dismissed it in his mind, he preferred the simplicity of his own apartment just outside the slums. Also had the added benefit of being harder to find and not standing out like sore karking thumb. He figured that some just had nothing better to do with their credits.

He was here to meet another fellow prospect, who had also just been brought into the Cartel. The man wanted to strike a temporary partnership with the Umbaran. Artemis agreed seeing as how he had no reason to not begin his cartel career. Meeting in such a obvious place seemed strange to him but he figured that when the Cartel owned the place they were meeting it made sense. He was running a bit late, he had just finished up gathering the credits from his last contract before heading to the apartment complex. He stepped into the lobby taking a quick glance around knowing he was looking for a human wearing a trench coat, which he assumed would stand out from the usual crowd here.

After several minutes of waiting around Artemis sighed. He assumed the contact got impatient and left. His lose Artemis thought. Just as he was stepping out of the lobby the assassin notices something out of place. A freighter flying kinda low for average traffic...no not flying too low descending. Descending right toward the Melrava!

"Karking hell! What are they doing!"

The assassin instantly turned and sprinted through the entrance hall and lobby. His eyes darted back and forth searching for a stairwell, knowing the turbolift would only be disabled by the impact. He found his target and burst through the door and raced up the stairs taking 4 steps at a time to try and get to higher ground. Around the 2nd floor he felt the impact beneath his feet and he was almost knocked to the floor. He knelt and braced himself until the rumbling subsided and he slowly stood as he heard the entire building groan.

What the hell is going on? Hmmm suppose they could be here to raid the apartments for valuables..there's probably plenty here. Must be pretty confident in themselves to go directly after the Hutts though. Well at least it looks like working for the Hutts won't be boring.

His thoughts were interrupted as the power went down. Artemis simply raised his goggles and could perfect see in the gloom, his Umbaran eyes seeing in the ultraviolet spectrum. He then heard repeated blaster fire that sounded like it was getting closer. The Umbaran decided it would be best to head further up into the Melrava. This was made difficult by the plethora of being now trying to escape the doomed building. He forced his way through till he was finally forced to leave the stairs as the press of bodies was too great.

Fools, can't they hear the damning blaster fire. Fine go and be cut down.

As he exited he came out to what seemed like a small skirmish. He could make out the form of Hutt, a man who appeared to be his contact, a few mercs in white armor, and a few others gathered in the hall, though only one of them seemed to be trying to defend the Hutt. He solider seemed to be pinned down by the mercs. Artemis dashed foward past the Hutt and others pulling his 2 curved vibroknives from his belt. Once behind the two mercs he buried the knives into each of their backs using his momentum to slam them into the floor. Before he stood he twisted the knives to make sure they were dead and stood sheathing his knives.

"So what exactly have I walked into here?"

 

[Vaxvesh Quao]

Melvara Memorial Apartment Complex, a secured, place for the elite of the Cartel to live in, with a state of the art security system, etc. It was hard to get inside here without going through numerous security measures, and Silva wasn't dumb enough to try to do such a thing. The Zabrak had been sent here to the Complex in order to meet someone that was working for the Cartel, and had a mission for Silva. While he was inside the bar, meeting this person, multiple people began to attack the bar, screams of people getting shot echoing through the air. "Looks like we will have to reschedule." he stated, before Silva, grabbed his pistol, and opened fire. No way in hell I am dying in this place.

Fortunately for the Zabrak Prospect, he had a Taskmaster Pistol, and an Arkayd Azalus Blaster Pistol, among other weapons. As soon as they began to fire, Vaxvesh, with a helmet, and other armors on, began to fire back. Luckily for him, Silva had decades of training, and preparation, and he could use that against his enemies.

As he continued to fire back, Silva continued to move in a stealthy manner, concentrating his attacks on the exit, in order for him to get out. As soon as he so an opening, Silva run, using the natural speed of a Zabrak that was much more faster than a human, and he got out. He then looked at the bar, since the person he was talking to, among other people all dead, lying on the floor. The people that had survived had gotten out, and Silva was among them. "You guys want to work together?" he asked. The group was a total of five people, three of them Trandoshans, and two of them humans. Surprisingly, they all agreed to the idea. "Okay, lets go." he stated, as they all walked, wondering how, and why this place was attacked.

 

[Galavant]

The mercenaries coming in the old Hutt's direction went down with startling efficiency. Addipos couldn't say he knew the man who did it personally, he was wearing armor after all. The Hutt didn't really care who he was, he'd just saved his life. Addipos knew better than to think that he'd somehow survive taking on armed mercenaries in their prime, when he most decidedly wasn't either of those things. But not all the guards had gone down, enough for the Hutt to move behind some cover (not the easiest thing to do when you were massive decrepit slug) which when a second man (this one much louder) came to his defense. And he was followed by a third, a fourth, and a fifth, and so on. Needless to say the Melrava was not lacking in people who were shooting back, which wasn't much of a surprise. This was a building that housed some of the most dangerous killers in the galaxy, and unlike a prison, it didn't attempt to disarm them or in any way impede their ability to be the most dangerous killers.

Perhaps the old Hutt was somewhat cynical, but he was surprised how many of them had come to his defense. He knew what others thought of his species in general, it was no secret Hutts weren't well loved. And if he were to die, what difference would it make for them? But perhaps the inverse of that equation was the root of why they'd helped. If he lived, what difference would it make for them? And that had potential to make them rich, or least less poor, and slightly more powerful. Addipos was no one's fool however. These were the kind of people out looking for a good score. They owed him no personal loyalty beyond what money they might make, and if that happened to be more from killing him rather than saving his life. Like the mercenaries coming after them for instance. That they were making use of guns, and armor, that members of the Cartel made use of should have been a tip off to what was really going, and it wasn't far from the train of though Addipos had.

As the last of the mercenaries in this particular section fell dead, Addipos moved from behind where he'd been in cover, and grabbed a gun from a dead merc. He might not have been even a halfway decent shot, and probably looked extremely funny to the trained killers that surrounded him, but he'd rather have a gun himself than not.

"So up or down?" Addipos asked. If any of them had a ship nearby it'd certainly be most convenient of all, but he'd go with whatever their judgment told them was the best course of action. He had his experiences in battle to be sure, but here he was more a liability than an asset at the end of the day. Meanwhile there more mercs coming up, and at least one of those that had gone down had managed to send a transmission, the rest of the bunch on the floor would be headed their way any minute, and more to follow. Their primary target had been found, and it was time to move in. Patrols would be emptying out of the lower floors that been secured, and also headed up. The staircases remained ignored, largely because they were a trap in and of themselves. Anyone who looked, saw they were clear, and headed down to the ground floor would only meet a virtual army of mercenaries gathered around the ship after all. And anyone that went up would be cut down the mercs as they went up as well, so why bother?

They had their target like a fish in a barrel, and there was one, maybe two, ways out.

Of course they didn't know the whole plan themselves. If they did most of them probably wouldn't have taken the job.