Sᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛʜᴇ Hᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Mɪɴᴅ Fᴏʟʟᴏᴡs
Attn:
Stolen Products Available: Osmium-class Hyperpath Engine 2x, Gene Sequence Modulator 30x, Synthetic Catalyst 30x, Ordinance Launcher Blueprints 2x, Boarding Drones 30x
The atmosphere inside the storehouse hidden deep in Rimmer's Rest hung thick with recycled oxygen and the sharp bite of industrial lubricant. Slivers of Nar Shaddaa's neon skyline bled through hairline cracks in the durasteel walls, splashing erratic streaks of electric blue and sickly pink across the stacked crates.
Medrol stood motionless at the center of it all, a black and gold specter. His matte armor drank in the crimson backlighting from the arched alcoves behind him, the helmet's twin antennae rising like blades above a blood-red triangular visor edged in cold yellow. A heavy midnight cape draped his shoulders, pinned at the throat by a stark white skull emblem that matched the one emblazoned across his chest.
One gloved hand rested on the grip of a heavy repeating blaster angled downward. Not a single unnecessary movement only the quiet, calculated presence of a man who had traded Mandalorian honor for the Dar'manda Gunrunners. Nar Shaddaa had never recovered from the Black Sun Syndicate's collapse.
In the power vacuum that followed, Medrol had carved out several sectors for himself, backed by the fractured remnants of the Hutt Cartel though their support came at a merciless price in tribute. To feed their appetite, he had arranged tonight's meeting with a prospective buyer interested in the premium ordnance he had stripped from an under-defended Trade Federation freighter that wandered too close to the Smuggler's Moon.
His helmet turned a fraction as the massive blast doors hissed open from the main cantina area.
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