Two more. Ashana moved quickly out the warehouse door, listening to the Asari,<b>Dr. Tso'Ari </b>she had agreed to help. Two more had latched themselves on. One was the Drell, who introduced himself as<b>Kyll</b>. Ashana was as annoyed by the idea of more mercenaries near her. It felt cramped, restricting. But she had never seen a Drell before, and the idea of watching one in action excited her too. The other addition was a Quarian,<b> Asad</b>.<br/><br/>Ashana exited the warehouse and moved quietly across the crowd, not wanting to draw attention to her diversion from the path the mercenary horde had taken. Most in the crowd outside of the warehouse were still watching as the mercenaries charged forward.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Fine, but keep up.</span>Ashana said to the two additions, ignoring any pleasantries. Ashana had never had to work with so many unknowns before, and having someone else firing in the same direction as her would be beneficial, assuming they kept their weapons pointed that way.<br/><br/>As Ashana moved beyond the crowd, hurrying for the designated warehouse, it occurred to her that this action could very well be depriving her of the opportunity to achieve the kill. Would Cravix run for his ship? He most certainly would, but whether or not he lived long enough to get there was unknown. And worse, Ashana noticed others heading in the same direction - toward the warehouse, not Cravix.<br/><br/><i><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Damnit!</span></i>she thought angrily. If it was just her and this other Asari, this<i>doctor</i><b>Ts'Oari</b>, then Ashana knew she could pass the two of them off as whores and put them inside the warehouse, maybe even on the ship. Though she would likely have to do some convincing on the behalf of<b>Ts'Oari</b>. But, if there were others snooping around, then it would be impossible. Kalga was known for being paranoid. His guards would go on full alert the moment anyone unusual got near the warehouse.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">We have a problem.</span>She said aloud.<span style="color: DarkOrchid">If anyone gets near that warehouse, no one is getting in. </span>Ashana looked at the others moving in the warehouse direction, and her hand brushed the gun at her hip. They could kill them here, try to stop them before they could tip off the warehouse guards.<br/>No, Ashana thought. If anything were to happen, a graze to draw blood, or signs of injury, then she couldn't get them into the warehouse anyway.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid"><i>Damnit!</i></span>Ashana furiously screamed in her mind.<br/><br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>The mercenaries ran through the streets, making enough of a scene that the crowds of Omega parted before them. The asteroid station was always crowded, day and night. And most of its population carried firearms. But the mass of armor, flesh, and firepower that was moving through the streets, past shops, stalls, and booths, was still unusual.<br/><br/>The band approached the Feddik district. It was a plaza with a number of stalls and shops set up around it, many of which for the sale of food. It was also a common place for socializing and making deals. Its proximity to the warehouse districts meant that many smuggling deals were negotiated right there, on that wide and mostly open expanse. Tables were numerous, as were patrons and mercenaries and ship captains around them. Cutting through the plaza were lines of other stalls and kiosks.<br/><br/>All through the plaza, deals were being made as dozens and dozens of people worked and talked. At its edge, though, talks ceased and hands reached for guns as the mercenary band cut in, passing through the tables. The patrons of the plaza watched warily, most ready to draw weapons if any hostility was directed towards them.<br/><br/>The mercenary advance was slowed as they poured into the plaza, scanning the crowds for Cravix. Some of the mercenaries even tried to shout his name, but no response was heard. They continued to move, thirsty for violence, then as they crested a rise in the plaza, one the mercenaries, a Turian, shouted,<span style="color: Red">There!</span>And lifted his tattered and scraped Phaeston rifle.<br/><br/>Cravix stood out front of a stall, speaking with a grimy Asari, dressed in armor. They both held drinks as they discussed a smuggling arrangement when a bullet suddenly smashed through the glass in Cravix's hand, shattering it. The Turian flinched and for a moment, in shock, he stayed his ground, and looked to the shots origin. He stared in confusion at the mercenaries at the head of the crowd, then he reached for the gun at his hip as suddenly more shots rang out from among them. The plaza exploded as the shots rang out, and suddenly its patrons were running, running from the sudden eruption of violence.<br/><br/>Cravix fired several shots, but as the mercenaries continued to crest the rise, and the odds against him spiraled out of control he cursed in shock and fear and ran, sprinting for cover as he darted through the fleeing crowds to escape the attack.<span style="color: DarkRed">Where are you!?</span>He shouted into his omni-tool as rounds zipped past him, several cutting into the fleeing patrons and sending them to the ground.<span style="color: DarkRed">I'm under fire! Where are you?!</span>He shouted again.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>