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Deakin hadn't payed attention for a second. "Not much," he said marking him dead "10k." Quickly he put the data pad away and lifted the mans head. The Hutt wanted Deakin to put an end to him. "Not fully dead," he said lifting his blaster pistol "gotta make sure." Deakin grabbed the man by his hair and held the cold barrel to his head. He stopped and thought for a moment. Taking another mans life for money. It had to be done. They were all criminals anyhow. "Save me a place in hell" he said squeezing the trigger. Deakin stood up and straightened out cracking his neck. Taking a deep breath, he put his helmet on, and snapped photos of the body.

((Im speeding through a little cause I'm so far behind))


Koren had managed to stealthily infiltrate the Sith Academy, now it was a matter of picking the correct doors and pathways so as to not stumble upon any Dark Jedi. He had no doubt in his own combat abilities, but he never did like the sight of a red lightsaber swinging at his head.

The only problem that Koren had was that he didn't have blueprints of the place. Albeit, he did have a very good sense of direction, and his priority right now was to get around the outer walls of the place and plant a few different bombs, then to plant a few towards the middle. This way, with the bombs going off in succession, his goal of a pretty yet minimally damaging bomb could be achieved.

After crouch-running down the hallway, he came up to a few doors. The first on the left was the one he took. To him, the room looked no different, the same dull colors and erie, dark glower about the place. It reminded him of a battlefield a day or two after the fight, with all the death and blood all around. In the centre of the room there was a training mat with some lockers scatter about the perimeter.

Without a second thought, he trod quickly to the most "un-used" looking locker and cracked it open. He pulled out a little chunk of black-silverish puddy and slapped on the roof of the locker, being careful to try to make it blend in with the char-black locker. Once he was done setting up the first of six bombs, he closed the locker and quietly left the room, not through the door he came through, but through the door on the other side of the room.

Cene bristled at the remark. That was a line crossed.

"Its Hutt'uun like you who give the rest of us a bad name." She snarled, her taung blood running hot. "You probably dont even remember how to fight, scavenger. You're a dog who's teeth have fallen out from disuse, forced to wait around until real mandos show up to chew your food for you."

She kicked the corpse again and bore into the center of his viewplate with her smoldering yellow eyes. "10,000 credits not much? 10k can buy a cheep starship, a decent speeder, a good blaster, and more importantly food and shelter for poor mando'ade who cant fight any more. Mando'ade who deserve to be cared for. But for a greedy souless Hutt'uun scavenger, it isnt enough."

She jabbed a finger in his direction. "You are Dar'Manda." She spat, the accusation dripping with contempt. "And dont you ever treat me as an inferior, you skinny shizno slimeball. Because in the scheme of things, scum like you arent even good enough to clean my boots."

"Everything about me is better than you." Cene retorted. "I'm a warrior in service to my clan. I support it with my strength and skill like a proper Mando'ad. But you wallow in yourself. Is that how you want to be remembered? A souless scavenger caring only for yourself? Thats not what I'd like to be remembered as. But ibeing remembered doesnt matter to you, anymore. You'e no longer a Mando."

She shouldered past him roughly on her way to the door not even giving him a second glance.

"Better sell your armor, Hutt'uun. Mando armor is for Mandos. Next time I see you in it, I'll rip it off you myself."

She left the establishment and slid her own helmet on.
"Ive had enough of this rotten world. Theres nothing on it but cowards, academics, and filth."

She turned to face him, not deigning to take her own off.
"Perhaps it hasnt sunk into your head yet what I am, Huutt'uun." She said calmly. "I'm half Taung, of the origional Mandalorians. I can eat a blaster rifle bolt, snap a human in half, and still have enough fight left in me to kill thrice my weight in Rodian pitfighters. Now scurry back into whatever hole you came out of. I'm done playing with you today."

"You wouldnt know, Hutt'uun. Thats what separates me from you."

"I just cleaned out a bar of drunks with a bottle of bad booze and a bar stool. You shot an unconcious man in the head." She shook her head in disgust. "The weakness is apparent. A gram of action has more mass than a kilogram of talk. Now go find a rodian to help you with your deathwish, Mir'osik. Unlike me, they've no qualms about killing babies."

"Most of them. Especially when the drunks start the fight. Now keep walking before you start one with me, Dar'manda. It will be the last blot you put on my people."