Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!

assailant smiled in an
unsettlingly friendly way and started to drive his exotic weapon forward.


The voice was almost too late, and though the muscular assassin tried to
halt the progress of his weapon, he succeeded only in turning it aside. The
slight change in course was, however, enough to keep the Rodian Throwing Razor
from shearing through his target's chest. Instead, it cleaved deep into the
formed plascrete wall beside the unfortunate, sending large shards of shrapnel
in all directions.

"Mister Haque." The massive killer turned his gaze to the alley's
newcomer. "Your presence, as always, is appreciated, but the same cannot be
said for your interruption or the volume of your voice."

The shorter man, dressed head to toe in military-issue fatigues and body
armor, dipped his head in a polite apology. "Please forgive the discordance
and the misfortunate timing of my arrival, my dear Mister Zlash. I think,
however, you will find it easier to allow me such a courtesy if you will allow
an explanation."

Mister Zlash, as he had been called, kept the man in his other hand
elevated. With a slight smile creasing his thin lips, the assassin-for-hire
nodded like a ch'hala tree swaying in the wind. "Consider the courtesy

"Very kind, Mister Zlash. It would seem the remuneration for the deletion
you were about to perform is delinquent arriving in our financial accounts on

A grimace replaced the smile. "Is there any reason forthcoming as to the
nature of this - - delay?"

Mister Haque held up a datapad, showing his almost Neolithic partner an
image of a Human man and several bars of tiny, scrolling text all displayed in
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