Conditioned

[Judah Lesan]

He'd been seen. How did this happen, unless...

Verza ran along the rooftops, his comm channels down. He was maintaining radio silence as he was certain someone had blown his cover. It was if the target had been told to expect him. Security had been so tight the agent could not find the perch he needed to take his shot. No matter where he went there was no cover, no place to keep from being seen.

The sound of blaster bolts whizzed past him as he lept from one rooftop to the next continuing the footchase throughout the city. They were all the same to him now. The lights and buildings were mostly designed by the same companies and firms these days. Culture made the difference, and some cultures sure knew how to decorate.

That was all pushed out of his mind as he took a two story leap to the ground. Verza rolled as his feet hit the ground and kept running. That's when a blaster bolt caught his leg at the fold of his armor. "Dammit," he hissed in pain. Hopefully he could find cover so that he could treat the wound.

With a blink of his eye the map to the nearest safe house was pulled. Everything was running according to protocol. Verza was conditioned to react this way. What if the safe house was compromised? If this had been as inside job it might be. He had to treat the wound regardless. The risk was manageable.

Busting into a set of doors, the assassin found himself in a cantina. All eyes had fallen on him. He had to keep moving on toward the back. Rushing past the waitresses, Verza ran through the back storage and out into another alleyway. He wasn't going to make it on his leg. Hitting the wall with his back, Verza slid down onto his butt and out of sight in the shadow.

The leg piece was pulled off, and bandage with burn ointment and a clotting agent was slapped onto the wound. It would help the healing begin, but for now, Verza would have to sit. He hoped the people tailing him had lost him. Verza needed help, and he needed a doctor.

 

[Kyle Raymus]

Kyle knew he would be here. The First Order Assassin. He didn't know the agent's identity, but he knew that he was looking to cause trouble in the city. The informant had done well. Now it was up to Kyle to do his own job. He lay down in the shadows as he searched for his target. He scanned the area with his binoculars, slowly and systematically, as he tended to do things. He went for his third pass as he glanced over thr cityscape. This was when he found him. The assassin was perched on the second floor of a low rise building. Kyle extended the barrel and adjusted the scope of his rifle. It was a work of art really. It was capable of shredding through medium armor, and at the same time was immensely handy in a close quarters fight. Kyle stared down the scope, controlling his breathing. Not a muscle moved. He was tense, not what a sniper should be. The rigours of war and murders he commited were getting to him. But he had to do it. He had to take the shot. He aimed at the targets head. One second, and it would all be over.

All he had to do, was to pull the trigger. A simple movement of a finger, and the bloody Death of an individual would follow. Murder was so simple. It was disgusting.

Kyle's hands shook as he stared down at the soul that was about to be vanquished from the realm of the living. His finger twitched. The blast flew out of the barrel at a ridiculous speed. He missed. The bolt flew inches away from the target's face, the green light illuminating his face. The rugged face of a killer.

Kyle cursed under his breath as the assassin turned and ran. He leapt up and flew onto a new vantage point. He fired two more shots. He didn't have time for a charged, powerful shot. No, he could only hope that he would hit the target, somewhat hindering it's progress, and then track it.

A hit. Blood. A mufled shout of pain. Kyle had hit the target in the leg. He watched the Assassin scurry into the darkness. The hunt would continue. For now, he had to track him.

[member="Verza Lor"]

 

[Simon Monroe]

Fifteen minutes prior...


The tip on Monroe's deathstick glowed molten orange as he took a deep breath in, savoring the blessed peace brought on the narcotic's fumes. It wasn't enough to actually get him high off the stuff, thanks to his implants really annoying habit of filtering the majority of the toxins out of his body, but at least it kept his head clear.

There were times when he really loved his job, when the pay was good, the work exciting, and the bad guys clever, but this was not one of those times. Working security was already one of the most boring aspects of his job, and on top of that his entire reason for being here was to make it even more boring. As boring as he possibly could, in fact. While that tended to keep the clients happy, it did little to alleviate the tedium. He'd already secured every possible ingress, egress, and vantage point he could think of, and now it was down to waiting. Insufferable waiting.

"SIr, you're not allowed to smoke those in here."

Monroe turned and raised an eyebrow at the security guard. "Am I not? My apologies." Artificial fingers closed around the narcotic and pulled it from between his lips, then promptly let it slip to the floor. "Oops..." was his only apology as his foot ground it into the expensive carpet.

As much as he hated rich pricks, he really did need the money from this job. If he didn't... "Kark."

All eyes snapped back to the window as a blaster bolt illuminated the night outside. Except it seemed it wasn't intended for his client, but rather some other poor sod out there in the dead of night. Tracking back the trajectory of the first bolt revealed the shooter in his perch, and following it to it's end Monroe caught a glimpse of the target dashing away from the scene. A miss then.

Taking a brief moment to play back and review the events revealed some telling clues about the shooter and his target, most notable among them being the fact that the target himself was armed for wampa. Two assassins then? Both sent to eliminate his client? Not likely. It would have been incredibly foolish to engage each other first. Much more likely that only one was here for his client, and the other had been contracted to eliminate his peer. Either way, there were questions that needed answers and cells that needed occupants.



Presently...


Heavy footfalls thudded in the street, and Monroe wove through the sparse crowd in pursuit of his quarry. Several more shots had been fired in the wake of the first, some from his own security detail but most from the first shooter, as he tracked his target through the streets. He'd left his own personnel behind several blocks back, moving much faster on his own than they could ever hope to match. The crowd slowed him down, but he'd managed to keep an eye on both the shooter and his quarry, at least up until a few seconds ago.

Rounding the corner where he'd lost the quarry, Monroe scanned the street for any sign of the man. He knew the shooter was also in the vicinity, but as near as he could tell he'd been keeping mostly to the rooftops and elevated perches. The man had no reason to target Monroe himself thus far, but he wasn't going to take any chances and had already activated the shield module attached to his belt, just in case.

Continuing his survey, his eyes fell on a pair of doors swinging listlessly ajar as several individuals hurriedly left the building. "Eh... Good a place as any." he shrugged before continuing forward.

A brief examination told him the doors had indeed been smashed in by a considerable weight, breaking the latches out of their housings in the process. Cautiously, he pushed one door open and stepped inside.

"Anybody see a man burst in here a few seconds ago?" Several patrons pointed in the direction of the back door, and Monroe nodded his thanks and set off for the alley behind the diner.

[member="Verza Lor"] - [member="Kyle Raymus"]​

 

[Formorta]

The bolt misses its mark, it seemed when it came to assassination Kyle was not as skilled as he made himself out to be, a good fleet commander, but a lousy shot. Formortas stealth field and other cloaking devices shimmered off slowly, reveling her presence next to shaky hand officer, her eyes keeping watch on the target as they ran away, "...... you missed..... now he may get away".

The PAC operative leader un-holstered her sniper rifle, looking through the scope as the man rounded a corner, a definite blood trial being left behind, and no doubt startling pedestrians, "... He will hide now... maybe call friends.... we need to act now". Fromorta leapt of the perch from which they were both seated, firing a grappling hook, catching an over handing beam and swinging down the street above the crowds.

It seem though that said shooting had attracted the attention of another, some gun-for hire looking person snaking through the crowed streets, heading in the same direction as Kyles victim, was he a friend? or something else. If did not matter, if they interfiled with the operation it would just be another head to pop, nothing Formorta had any trouble dealing with. Soon the assassin came to over look a cantina, loosing sight of their quarry, but keeping an eye on the new person of interest, as it seemed they knew where to go, "... That's right... lead me to him".

Activating her stealth equipment she slowly lowered herself behind the man as they entered the cantina, keeping an ear out for any words of interest.

"Anybody see a man burst in here a few seconds ago?"

. "..... perfect". She waited until another person opened the front door, sneaking in and slowly creeping towards the back door to the ally, she needed to know the relationship between the two before acting.

[member="Kyle Raymus"] l [member="Verza Lor"]

 

[Kyle Raymus]

Equipment: Restored Empire Era Mandolorian Armor (Jetpack and Vambraces included), Custom built personal Rifle, 6x Thermal Detonators, Tracking Beacons.
Kyle saw [member="Formorta"], a PAC operative appear right beside him as she deactivated her cloaking systems. He hated it when they did that. He had a lot of experience working with PAC but he could never get used to the way to materialised out of nowhere. It was just... creepy. But there wasn't any time for that now.

"...... you missed..... now he may get away".

"Go after him, but keep in touch"
Formorta leaped away as Kyle activated his jetpack and flew upwards through the dark, moonlit sky. He flew above the buildings lining the city, tracking his target. He could no longer see Formorta, she was cloaked again. He watched his target enter a small canteen. A suspicious individual pushed and barged through the crowd with astonishing speed. Very impressive. He entered that same canteen that the assassin entered moments ago. Was he a bounty hunter? Was he the one that Formorta was talking about back on the rooftops? Probably, and he could be a problem. Kyle began his descent, landing on the roof of the building. He would enter through the back door, and search for the assassin. He couldn't remember the targets face in much details. This could be difficult. He blasted the magnetic lock on the door and walked in through the storage room. He stunned all of the personnel stationed there after quickly blasting the security cameras. He passed rows upon rows of boxes. A recent shipment. He opened the door to the next room and walked in. He looked around the room. What he didn't see however, was the bleeding, well armed assassin, slumped down right behind him. If he had turned around, Kyle would see that the man was well armed, and clearly the one he was hunting. But right now he was more focused on the man who just barged into the canteen. The one whos was pushing his way through the crowd moments ago. Kyle lifted his rifle's safety and set it to stun. He wasn't taking chances.

[member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Simon Monroe"]

 

[Judah Lesan]

ooc: placeholder. Also I know Chaos doesn't generally adhere to a posting order, but as the thread owner being chased three to 1 I'm going to be very strict about it.