[I][B]The Warehouse[/B][/I]

It was strange the sentries hadn’t walked by in a little while. The technician looked around from the refueling cells he had been preparing to charge the technical with and noticed his friend wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was unlike him, or any of the other sentries for that matter. The technician recalled his friend had less than an hour after his shift, and when he were restless and bored, he moved around a bit more to alleviate the tedium. Something felt wrong, that much was clear.

Drawing his sidearm, a cheap submachine-gun that was as compact as an automatic pistol, the technician began to move around, looking towards where he’d seen his friend moving to. It didn’t take long for him to find what was wrong, however; by the technicals a pair of boots were immediately visible when he rounded the side of the truck. Also apparent was a turian staring back at him, shotgun in hand. 
“CONTACT!” the batarian shouted, aiming his weapon in a long burst as he activated his tech armour, trying to move into a better firing position. The two other technicians in the yard drew their weapons and began to move towards the warehouse, not knowing the threat that they were facing. 

Inside the warehouse, a mechanic working on one of the three skycars purchased by the company hit his head off the undercarriage at the sudden burst of gunfire.  Cursing, the batarian pulled himself out from under the vehicle and grabbed his Avenger assault rifle, taking note that the 8 guards were already gearing up, 4 of whom were situated around a table playing a card game. From the foreman’s office up the stairs, a booming voice came down on them hard. “You four, off your asses!” Three-Eye Vallak thundered, he himself charging a heavy Revenant machine gun as he took charge of the fighters. “Secure the transports and find out what the hell is going on out there. Hos, get that turret up and running!” 

Another of the batarians ran along the upper catwalk to what looked like a makeshift pillbox with crudely welded metal plates as rudimentary protection. However, mounted in it was a military-grade turret that had been secured on the black market some time ago. Its traversing mechanism was slow and it skipped gears, but when on point little else could put the same amount of vehicle-shredding firepower on point quite like it. Vallak just hoped that Hos wasn’t such an incompetent shot that he’d tear up the crates of narcottics the gang was planning on shipping out to prospective buyers.

The four batarians ready, one of the bay doors began to open when Hos gestured his turret was online and on point. The four made their way outside carefully, weapons at the ready.

[I][B]Administration Building[/B][/I]

Upstairs, a very irritated asari was checking her omni-tool, noticing her access to the security systems was compromised. “What kind of operation do you think you’re running here? You assured me your systems were secure, top of the line.” She said, her voice cold as ice.
5 of the Twin Stars were upstairs with her, most of whom looked uncomfortable to be there. The leader of the bunch didn’t back down, however. He opened up his omni-tool and tried to raise the men downstairs. “Tale’k, report. What’s going on down there? We lost systems access.” Silence hung heavy in the air. “Tale’k, report.” 

“Your operation is compromised. You,” the asari in Blue Suns armour said, shoving her finger at one of the batarians. “Clear the data and get it on a module, ASAP. You’re getting me out of here safely, or this partnership with the Blue Suns is becoming immediately hostile, understood?”

The batarian nodded nervously, getting to work. The leader was busy commanding his own men. “You two, get downstairs, find out what’s going on.”

“Belay that.” The asari commanded. The batarians waited.

“Grenades first. We’re not taking chances. If it’s nothing, charge me for damages. If there’s someone down there, then you can thank me later.” She said.

The three batarians nodded in agreement, plucking fragmentation grenades from their belts. 

“One at a time. On three. Three, two, one…” the leader said, throwing his explosive down the stairwell, followed by the next two in sequence. Three explosives detonated. The asari turned to the batarian at the console. “Do you have my data?”

“Right here.”

“Let’s move. [i]Now.[/i]”


[I][B]Housing Block[/B][/I]

Heads begin to turn towards the window, the distinct sound of gunfire barely penetrating the loud music. While some of the batarians set their drinks down in curiosity and concern, most figure one of the idiots had a negligent discharge of their firearm. The bartender’s pockets are getting heady with credit chits.