Izhu Arodeshka stalked into his employer's office, flicking his tongue about and taking in the scent of the place. He hated well-lit environments; he was designed for his dark home planet. He sat in the chair and fought to restrain himself from expressing his disgust in this man's methods.
"I'm glad you decided to take this job," said the employer.
"The pay was good," Aro said, getting straight to the point.
"...Yes, well," the man before him said after a pause, "our target is a rather formidable one this time. We needed the best."
"And you thought of me."
"We can provide you with all of the support you need - papers, ID, troops -"
"I don't need anyone else. Just myself, my .50, and plenty of papers."
The employer nodded and indicated the door. "You will receive your payment immediately upon completion of the contract," he said.
Aro walked back out of the small room and left the building, heading straight for the hangar to get his tiny little ship. When he got inside, he heard a scuffling sound in the cockpit. He drew his Drake & Thompson DeadShot .50 Auto Pistol and proceeded to the front of the ship. He found a single man, wearing the clothing of Aro's employer's faction. Aro fired once and put an enhanced projectile through the man's head. He then fired up his engines, did a pre-launch check of the cargo bay - which could have held approximately two small crates - and then launched for his next supply stop.