Next to land is Xizran, who lands much less gracefully, targeting his landing to put himself behind Fennec should any enemies appear.

OOC: Xizran rolled 22 using 1d20+8.  Reflex Save.

Layla is the last to land, using the Force to guide and slow her fall as she touches down lightly beside the other two.

OOC: Layla Secura rolled 15 using 1d20+8. Force Flight.

"The adrenaline from that medpac will wear off soon, you know," Fennec informs Layla, not sounding like she will be sorry when this happens.

"Thanks for the friendly warning," Layla shoots back dryly as she glances about.

The audience chamber is grimy and dimly lit. A dozen or so bodies are strewn about the floor or slumped against the walls. Stro'to's throne stands at the far end of the room with a Weequay corpse flung across it but there is no sign of the Twi'lek crime lord.

"I do hope this wasn't where you were expecting to find Stro'to," Xizran says, in the tone of someone who isn't optimistic enough to set his hopes for this matter particularly high.

Layla gives a knowing smirk as she leads the way towards a corridor branching off behind the throne.

"He'll be in the treasury."

Layla leads the procession down a narrow staircase and into a small room lined with shelves. An assortment of cheap beverages and a couple of boxes of artificial gemstones are scattered about the shelves, along with three blocks of bronzium.

"He's not hiding in that box of gemstones I take it?" Fennec says dryly as she surveys the room.

Layla ignores this comment as she moves over to the far wall, running her hand along the bottom of one of the shelves. She gives a satisfied smile as there is a low rumble and a section of the wall at the far end of the room swings open to reveal a room of gleaming aurodium beyond.

In it, a white-skinned twi'lek looks up, caught in the act of snorting to himself as he writes (and backspaces) and writes again a note on a datapad that he appears to be intending to attach to a not-yet-armed multi-detonator. His expression twists with horror at the sight of the newcomers before twisting into a thin, rather unconvincing smile.

"...What an--," Stro'to coughs, "unexpected but welcome surprise."

"That’s half true, I’m sure," Layla smiles back blandly, glancing at the multi detonator, "We interrupting something?"

Fennec gives a snort of amusement from behind Layla.

"What does the datapad say?" she adds, grinning.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:10, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

"Nothing that was intended for you, dear lady," Stro'to says, pressing the 'delete' button surreptitiously on his message, and eying off the potential exits to this room even more surreptitiously. "What happened to your stomach, Vayla?" Stro'to attempts to deflect everyone's attention from himself subtly, eying the bleeding wound with a good imitation of genuine concern.

Layla doesn't look impressed.

"It was 'Xayla', actually," she corrects him, sounding irked, "But my real name is actually Layla."

"Creative," mutters Fennec.

"And my stomach is fine," continues Layla, ignoring Fennec, "It's your own skin you should be concerned about."

"Your stomach, Layla," Stro'to points out, eying it, "is dripping blood all over my treasury floor. Mine is not."

Xizran seems to feel he's been being ignored long enough.

"The compeer's bank account?" he coughs, glaring at Layla's back pointedly.

Layla places a hand defensively over her stomach, wincing as she does so.

"Just so you understand, this pair of assassins came to kill you, Stro'to, and the only reason they haven't done so is because I assured them you knew the precise location of the Compeer's vault which I believe I overheard you mentioning to one of your contacts was on Kashyyyk. Is that true? Or is there really no reason why they shouldn't just shoot you where you stand?"

Stro'to seems to have no problems doing the math on this one (which is more than can be said for Stro'to's actual math exams.) His gaze slides on to the pair.

"Assassins? That is slightly harsh, don't you think, Fennec, after all the parties I've hosted that you and dear Xizran have been invited to? I thought we Exchange were above all this petty stabbing in the back nonsense."

"Wait, you two also work for the Exchange?" Layla repeats in surprise, glancing sharply at Xizran.

"...No?" Xizran tries unconvincingly.

"...Xizran?" Stro'to's eyes widen slightly. (He seems to be regretting his life choices regarding the lack of alternative exits to this room.) "Is that you, my old friend?"

"No, this is the unknown stranger in the spacer suit who is going to blow you up if you don't have useful intel to share about a compeer, who I might note is the only reason you haven't already got Fennec's blaster bolt in your chest. I suggest you start sharing intel sooner rather than later, before I start to suspect you have not actually got any," Xizran sneers, sounding peeved.