Cid was waiting at the door of her office when they arrived. Bolo and Ketch, her two regulars, waved to Omega as she passed by with the others. Omega waved back, and Cid shook her stick in Hunter's face.

"Where the heck have you been?" she shouted. "It's almost time for me to close!"

Tech checked his chronometer. "I don't know why you would be closing. Technically, there are still several hours before -"

"Bah-bah-bah-bah, I don't wanna hear it, goggles," Cid retorted and disappeared into her office.

Hunter shook his head and followed, and Tech and Wrecker exchanging a whispered conversation just behind him. Echo went in after them, facepalming.

Omega hesitated.

Crosshair was lingering some distance away from the door, one hand resting on his hip, his head tilted at an odd angle.

Omega went over to him. "Crosshair?"

Crosshair continued to stare at the office doorway. "That's...Cid..." he drawled.

"Uh-huh." Omega nodded. "That's Cid." She was just about tug Crosshair towards the office when Ketch and Bolo, who'd been whispering over their Dejarik game, rose from their table and wandered over to Crosshair and Omega.

""So, 'oo are you supposed ta be?" Ketch piped up, looking Crosshair up and down. His Ithorian buddy slowly sauntered around Crosshair, sniggering into his vocabulator.

"Are you a prisoner?" said Bolo. He poked the gray fatigues Crosshair was wearing, then wiped his fingers on his shirt.

Crosshair glowered and Omega stepped closer to him, confused.

"Yeah," Ketch agreed. "Where's your armor? Are ya with the other guys? They've all got armor."

"Hey, I don't have armor yet," said Omega. "Leave him alone!"

Ketch ignored her. Bolo kept circling Crosshair.

"You don't look like much without it," said Bolo. "What are you, their guest or something?"

"More like their accountant," Ketch sniggered. "Or maybe you're just a stray -"

Crosshair pushed Omega aside and sprang forward. Ketch let out a bark of alarm, and Crosshair wrestled him into the wall, the sniper's forearm pinning Ketch across his throat.

Omega stared, and Bolo went bounding around the room in dismay. Ketch struggled unsuccessfully.

"Watch yourself, Weequay," Crosshair snarled. "I kill for a living."

Suddenly, Cid came stamping forward and jammed herself in between Ketch and Crosshair, shoving them apart.

"Alright, alright, this round is over. You two!" - gesturing to Ketch and Bolo - "Get outta here! Bar's closed! See you tomorrow! Go ahead and take a bottle with you. Whatever it takes to get you outta here!"

Ketch and Bolo, quite forgetting their former terror, rushed to the bar and started arguing about which drink choice to pick. They settled on "Reactor Coolant" and were gone.

Omega shuddered. Wrecker had tried "Reactor Coolant" once, and after that Hunter had restricted the squad to nothing stronger than "Thermal Detonator".

Except Omega. The only drink Cid served that Omega was allowed to have was blue milk. At first, she hadn't wanted to, mostly because she had some every time the others ordered drinks, and she'd had so much of it that Wrecker told her she might turn into a bantha at some point. And she'd almost believed him. Until Hunter had done that funny thing with his eyebrows.

But she really did like the blue milk. She hoped at some point she could actually see a bantha cow for real. Not just in the pictures Tech had loaded onto her datapad.

Cid was tapping her stick impatiently, sighing in exasperation when Ketch and Bolo's loud arguing could still be heard several moments later.

The trandoshan tapped Omega on the head. "Come on, tiny." She jerked her thumb at Crosshair. "You, too, scrawny. Come on. We're waiting!"

Omega trailed after Cid, pausing just long enough to hear Crosshair's slow footsteps following behind.

Once they were inside the office, Cid closed and sealed the door, then stumped around her desk and sat down, looking for all the world like a shrewdly benevolent frog.

It didn't last long. The friendly gleam in her slit pupils shifted into a calculating glower as she watched Crosshair unblinkingly.

But strangely enough, when Omega looked, Crosshair was ignoring Cid completely.

Hunter looked between Crosshair and Cid a few times, then ran gloved fingers through his hair. "Cid, what's this all about? Why'd you want to see him?"

"Because of the job," the trandoshan replied. "Hey, you! Yeah, scrawny, hiding in the back there!"

Crosshair folded his arms slowly and finally met her gaze.

"Yeah, that's right," Cid called. "I'm talkin' to ya, toothpick! Come on up here!"

Crosshair glared and did not move.

Cid growled and heaved herself out of her chair before waddling up to Crosshair. She walked around him once, then tapped him with her stick. "Sniper, eh?"

Crosshair dropped his arms to hang at his sides and turned to glower at her. "What makes you say that?"

Cid waved her stick at him. "Just look at yourself!"

Omega and Wrecker exhanged a glance and shrugged.

"Cid," Hunter said as the trandoshan went back to her desk. "Why did you want to see Crosshair in particular, and what is this job?"

"It's simple, really." Cid tapped her claws along the engraved desk edge and smirked at Hunter. "You'll be happy about the payment, too, bandana boy. Ten thousand credits."

Crosshair stepped forward. "What are the conditions?"

"That's the great part!" Cid cried. "The client needs one man neutralized - I don't care how. The results you boys have given me thus far makes me think you could achieve the desired results without actually killing the target!"

Hunter leaned his hands on the desk top and bent down to peer into Cid's eyes. "We never have taken a job where the goal was to kill a man."

"Who is it?" said Echo.

"Just an Imperial officer," Cid replied, waving her hands about for emphasis on how ridiculous Hunter's seriousbehavior was. "An admiral, I was told. He's staying for several days at a dignitary meeting on - "

"I don't wanna hear it," said Hunter, and he stepped away. "We'll do retrievals and extractions, but assassination is not going on our agenda."

"What do your boys think?" Cid snipped. "I think you could really use a hefty chunk of credits."

"Would we even get a 'hefty chunk'?" Echo snorted.

"Of course! What do you say to three fifths of the haul?"

Tech tapped his upper lip rapidly. "You would give us six thousand credits out of ten thousand?"

Cid grinned. "Don't you think sixty percent of that kind of a payment is affordable to me? If someone is willing to pay ten thousand, I'm willing to pay good chunk of that, especially after all you boys have done for me!"

Hunter shook his head. "We're not assassins."

"And you don't have to be!" Cid hollered, waving her arms about in irritation. "The client said 'neutralize', not 'kill' the target! Maim him, send him to a nut house, pack him away in a cellar, I don't care!"

Hunter frowned. "I'll think about it. For now, how about something a little more...easily managed?"

Suddenly, Crosshair stepped forward. "Who is the target?"

Cid blink at him. "Huh? Oh, some admiral called...daugh, what was it...? Admiral Boarding Ramp, or something."

Crosshair narrowed his eyes. "Rampart?"

"Yeah, that's it." Cid cocked her head and gazed sidelong at Crosshair. "You're takin' it?"

Hunter clamped a hand on Crosshair's shoulder, pulling the sniper around to face him. "More importantly, what's it to you?"

Crosshair shook him off and turned back to Cid. "The whole job pays ten thousand, you say."

Cid nodded. "That's right. Goggles there already confirmed with me the cut you boys would get." She smiled hopefully.

Crosshair placed a hand carefully on the desk and drummed his fingers once. "What percent of which cut?"

Cid stared at him, her gaze locked with his for a moment. Then, a wide grin split her mouth. "I like the way you think, toothpick! Maybe we can talk business?"

Crosshair leaned both hands on the desk. "We are right now, aren't we?"

Cid flashed him a nervous smile. "Alright, you win. Six thousand for doing the job."

Tech stepped forward, his mouth twisted to one side. "That was...already confirmed, Crosshair. Unless... Oh..."

Crosshair looked at Cid from under lowered eyebrows. "I'm surprised it's taken you this long to know that you have to deal in simple numbers with someone like her, Tech," he said.

Tech blinked and cocked his head at Cid.

Cid flapped her hands dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, takes one to know one, toothpick. So. You want the job?"

Hunter pulled Crosshair back and raised an eyebrow at Cid. "I said we'll take something easier to manage."

Cid sniffed, then shrugged. "You'll get four thousand credits for delivering some cargo safely to Pantora. That's the only other high-paying job I have."

"Pantora, huh?" Hunter rubbed his jaw. "And why are you suddenly offering the next best-paying job?"

"So you'll come back, duh," Cid snapped. "Looks like I'm not going to be able to make a living if you keep bringing that toothpick around."

"Maybe we won't have to if we could trust you not to cheat us anymore. Like you just tried to." Echo gave her a pointed stare. "What do we have to do? Sift through every word you say to us?"

Cid rolled her eyes. "I look out for me, buster. If you can make a bit of cash while making me money too, fine. Anyway, the offer stands. You boys get four thousand credits for making that delivery. Take it or leave it."

Hunter nodded. "Fine. What's this cargo?"

"Drinks, packaging supplies, and a few...valubles."

"What sort of valubles?" said Echo.

"The kind of valubles most people want nowadays," said Cid. "Weapons, boys! That Empire sure sucks them up fast - so I'm trying to make sure a few more get out there to the other guys!"

"Right, and...who are we delivering them to?"

Cid pulled up a small holo and set it on the desk. "It's a Gran named Reeka Mor. He's a shop owner just outside the capital."

Omega came forward to study the image and grinned. Hunter nudged her arm.

"Yeah, we've met that guy," he said. "Pantora it is then."

Cid tossed the holo to Omega, who caught it and slipped it into her bag. "Pantora it is."