"You ask me about why you should pay me? Well, let me tell you. You could have plenty of your office skags who generate invoices, who waste your money and who manage to line your pockets, while costing you precious credits. You look at me, and what do you see? You see a man of the world. I have given your information, I have given you materials, I have even managed to provide you with ships and weapons. Where do they come from? I can only assure you they are the greatest quality I could procure. While you would have to worry about the bottom line, I have sought to provide you your goods at the lowest prices possible. I have tapped into means that, while they be less palatable to your more straight-laced paper pushers, are more than effective at meeting your needs. I have twisted the arm of the underworld, and I would not give you anything other the best that I could muster. What cost has been brought about? I am not asking for an arm and a leg. I am not asking for some hefty finders fee. I am asking you merely for enough to keep myself in a filthy, kriffing apartment in the back leg of the trade arm. I am asking for enough to keep my belly filled, and my taste for spirits slaked. And if you should choose to pay me what I have earned, what I deserve, I can assure you that this is not the end. This will be the start of things, the start of gems that have yet to come. I am a simple, Corellian man, with a simple dream. I want to see a greater Dark Brotherhood, one that will continue to live, one that will continue to thrive in spite of the likes of those who would oppose us. I have seen the machinations of a Sith Empire of Orian. I have given them great things. I have provided them with great services. I am offering the Grand Master in standing with greater than that. All that I ask, all that I request, all that I demand is that which I am due. The cost of materials you will find attached to a file on my datapad. Other than that, I want but 10 thousand credits. What I have seen of your coffers, what I have seen of your fleets, what I have seen of the Iron Throne, this sum is but a pittance. Indeed, in paying what I am due, you will earn yourself an asset. I will bring you weapons, I will bring you artifacts, I will bring you vehicles and I will bring them in a way where you will not have to stretch yourself in either credits nor effort to continue to avail yourself of. It would be pure foolishness, given that this price is negotiable after this day. So long as I am kept able to survive, I am more than happy to continue to provide, and afterward you will be free to pay me as you see fit. All I ask is that you be fair. Look within yourself, look at your coffers, look at what we can accomplish together, and I am sure that you will see how easy the true answer is. Ten thousand credits. A pittance for the ACE, no?

Razraf was tired of this. He had been hiding away on a transport for hours. He had been skulking through the ship, had dodged these fools as they wandered the ship. He had been nearly discovered not once, not twice, note even four times, but at least five times. People got bored when they were traveling through hyperspace, he figured. Or maybe they were tired of playing Pazaak, or reading, or whatever. He had been patient. That patience was quickly running thin.

They had to be making a lot of money here. That was the way that he had operated for some time: he followed the credits. There was a lot of money to be made here. He wanted to figure out what was going on. A grizzled alien entered the room. Green skin, odd snout, and if Razraf had really cared, he might have been able to put a name to the species. He really didn't care though. The creature peered around, his eyes widening as he noticed the movement by the Selonian. The creature even opened a mouth to say something, but like lightning, the Selonian Bounty Hunter raised his blaster and fired one, twice, and thrice. The body hit the ground. For several moments, he feared he had been discovered.

His pulse pounded in his ears. He was carrying a few weapons, but not enough to take on the whole ship. It would not do if he were so easily discovered. And yet, after several moments, it seemed that no footsteps moved to meet him. No backup arrived to back up their fallen ally. If anything, it seemed as though no soul had heard. He shook his head. Were they all so cut throat, or was he really deep enough in the depths of the transport to go unheard?

He considered the situation as he stalked forward. Perhaps, he considered as he dragged the body. Rodian, he realized. This creature was called a Rodian. Thankfully, this Rodian had not shot first. Otherwise, he might have been cut short of his goal. He had been quick on the draw, but if this body was to be discovered, he would be hard pressed to talk, or to shoot, his way out of this. Instead, he would continue his quiet vigil. He would sit among the cargo, and as soon as they landed, he would move out before he could be found. He would follow from a distance. He would find out who these business contacts were. He would discover who were the buyers, he would discover who were behind the sales. By threat or by manipulation, he would find himself a new source of fortune.

There was certainly a joy and a simplicity to his job. He was getting tired of hunting and killing, and it looked like this business could be his ticket out. He dragged the body back, and considering one of the crates, he popped it open. He started to stuff the body into a weapons crate. It would delay discovery, which would give him the advantage. However he played his cards, he planned to be a very wealthy, very happy Selonian.