There was overkill, and then there was this.

The levels flashed past their eyes as the transport pilot took them down.  It wasn't the first time they had been on Coruscant, but their business usually took them to either extremes.  The upper levels were rich, gleaming sky scrapers and spires where the wealthy and the powerful plotted their machinations.  The undercity was dark, damp, lawless.  There was business for the Brotherhood in both of those places.  But not usually in the middle.  Those who would have had a comfortable living on any other planet, but instead chose to live in relative obscurity in the center of the galaxy.

It made sense, if you thought about it.  If you wanted to hide from the law, you went to the undercity.  If you wanted to hide from base criminals....and could afford it... you could find solace with the upper crust.  But hiding from the Brotherhood?   Best to go somewhere completely unremarkable.  

He looked around the transport, the ship only a couple years old, hired from the spaceport.  The pilot droid navigated the shaft easily enough, and discretion was useful here.

Discretion.  He laughed to himself.  There was no discretion in sending him.  He looked to the next seat, the Twi'Lek staring at her datapad as if it was about to give up the secrets of the universe.  She felt his eyes on her, looking up. "I figure we are about halfway there.  I have surveillance feeds from outside the building."  She glimpsed back down, muttering to herself.  

The old clone leaned over from the next row, wrinkles creasing his smile.  "So, we sticking with the standard plan?"  His hands went to the lapels of his jacket and giving them a slight tug.  He felt awkward in this getup, but traipsing into the midlevels with full kit wasn't going to fly here.  None of them were in their preferred gear.  Well, except maybe the droids.  

"If by standard, you mean 'I slice the panel, then hide behind Beater until you guys are done killing everything', then sure..."  Leena chuckled as she turned her attention back to the datapad.  The blastromech droid whistled grumpily at that, dome turning as it wheeled forward. 

"Settle down, Beater.  I am sure there will be plenty of things for you to do."  Hekate straightened up in its seat, head turning to look at them.  Beater chirped again, this time more defiantly.  "It's midlevel, so if there is a security detail, it's nothing that Master can't handle in a heartbeat or two."    

"We want him alive." The reminder came quietly from Muz. 

"It's still overkill."  Leena groused.  Then again, if their target had actual information on where the Collective was keeping Simonetti and Evant, then it was worth it.  They were all just a little less trusting of the intel since it got them into trouble on Lyra.   

"Overkill is underrated."  Hekate spoke flatly.  "If a thing is worth doing..." 

"Destination approaching."  The pilot droid spoke through the transport speakers, the levels slowing outside the windows.  
Doc stepped to the front of the ship, approaching the droid.   "Remember, wait here for our return.  One additional passenger."  

"Understood."  The droid swung the ship toward the platform, the landing area marked off with spinning lights and yellow paint.  Doc turned back, nodding at the others. 

Leena got to her feet slowly, stretching as she rose.  "Well, time to do the dishes."  

The hiss of hydraulic landing gears filled the air as the side door swung down and open, steps raising from the metal as it lowered.  Hekate and Doc moved first, the old clone stepping out onto the platform and scanning the area with his eyes quickly, the droid stepping through behind him, wind whipping at its cloak. 

"The office is not even a quarter click away from here."  Leena looked up at the Grand Master.  "Security feeds show that no one has left since we have been watching."  

"Don't say it."  Doc sneered from outside the ship.  

Leena rolled her eyes at him, one of her lekku jabbing at her back as she moved down the steps. She knew better than to tempt fate.  Muz followed her, his warcoat flapping in the wind, briefly exposing the holsters of his sabers as he moved.    Looking at her datapad, she raised her arm, directing them off the platform, down one of the concourses.  The avenue was lined with fairly nondescript offices, the occasional restaurant dotting the dull landscape as a place for the workers to find a midday meal.  She figured that they had about fifteen minutes to get to the office, extract their quarry, and vanish before the early shifters would be out on break.  The low whir of Beater's wheels seemed loud, compared to the quiet concourse, buildings blending into each other, the only distinguishing marks imprinted in blocky aurrebesh on a brass panel next to every door.  

Leena finally gestured, Beater rolling forward to stand between the avenue and her, Doc and Hekate taking up positions alongside her as she slipped a small code cylinder into the security panel.  Fast fingers tapped away at the specialized datapad, the programs slicing into the security protocols.  Codes flew past her eyes, her mind racing as she carved away the useless and seized what she wanted.  

"Third door from the left.  Looks like there's a few in there with him."  She slid her finger across the datapad, the doors opening with the motion.  Muz stepped through first, Doc and Hekate moving down the hall behind him, following the entryway to a foyer.  The low desk sat empty where a receptionist would be, the datapad built into the furniture glowing dully.  The whole facility was draped in soul-crushing grey and beige, artificially lit from tubes above.   Muz raised an eyebrow as he moved forward.  

"Don't say it."  Doc chuckled.  

Muz tilted his head to look at him briefly as his hand reached for the panel next to the door.  The door slid open as a gloved finger pressed the button.  The shuffle of feet and the rustling of fabric greeted them as four sets of eyes turned toward the door. It was hard to say if Manu Maurfai was made paler by the dismal artificial lighting or by fear, but either way his skin seemed to be a noxious shade of toxic.  Three others, cybernetically augmented bodyguards no doubt courtesy of the Collective stood or sat near him, idle hands drumming on the desk or fiddling with some sort of game on a datapad.  Muz's head turned toward them, black eyes calling up memory from their files.  

There was a long moment of silence before the room erupted into action.  

The clack of blasters being unholstered was drowned out by the razor hum of saber ignition, the blades screaming forth from Muz's hand to draw a line of ruin across the closest one's wrists.  He bolted forward, the violet crashing down on the next one, cleaving the cyborg's head at the crown before he spun to face the last.  Mind focused, fingers stretched, the last of the guards found himself smashing into the desk, his head dragged forward into the pressed wood with a crack that dulled his senses and made his fingers let go of his blaster.  The final crack seemed to echo in the room as he went still, a trickle of blood starting to form a pool beneath his head.

Muz straightened his head, closed his fist and took a step toward his prey.  If the green Twi'lek was pale before, he was nearly white now.  Muz raised a saber and let it go, leaving the hilt suspended midair as though gravity dared not challenge him.  He reached toward the raider, hand opening wide.  Manu felt the air stiffen around his throat, his fingers flying to fight against hands that weren't at his throat, but were dragging him toward the Dark Lord anyway.  Shoes scraped against the industrial carpet, legs knocking over cheap furniture, eyes widening as he felt himself getting dragged toward the angry hum of the saber.  

"Wha..." Manu coughed, straining past the pressure at his throat. "What do you want?"  

Muz smiled.