Grym sat back in the corner of the bar, a stim between his fingers. He held his hand up before his face in the dim light and glanced over the skin before pressing the stim stick to his lips. He wore none of his usual attire out this time. In fact, no one that was alive would even recognize the man beneath the mask of Grym Kandle. Leaving the stick between his lips, he pulled at the artificial layer of skin. Sadly, it appeared more real than what lay beneath.

At this point, Grym appeared as he might have if he wasn't a glitterstim addict. His hair was dyed a natural brown and his skin was covered in a synthetic layer. For all this and the drab flight suit he wore, he was nothing of the mask and cloak that anyone looking for Grym Kandle would notice. And his 'disguise' covered the excessively apparent scars and side effects of his fancies with glitterstim. He even had contacts on to cover the greened veins of his bloodshot eyes. He wanted to fit in as much as possible. Just another bum in the Outer Rim, wasting his time in the bars when he probably could've been out there working some job that would only pay for the drinks later anyways.

But the bar he was in just happened to be the same bar that Javes Tinarm frequented. His last name was actually a tag on he had recieved for an outdated prosthetic arm. The bum smuggler was so cheap he would never bother with an upgrade. Grym knew that and more. He always knew the ins and outs of the prey. Since he had received his order from the top to make some convenient observations, Grym had determined that the prey was much more available than the hunter. In fact, he had no word on the hunter whatsoever other than it was an assassin new to Sorsha's employ. They had pulled off a few jobs so far from what the word on the street had turned out but little else was available.

The Vigo had just mentioned, since Grym was in the area, he should check out the new agent. If it was even more convenient, he could arrange for the agent to never make it back to Sorsha. If possible of course. He had already dealt with his own business in the area by now, word had reached him obviously well before the assassin's deadline. And Grym had been tailing the smuggler for some time now. Of course it wasn't noticable, Grym was well beyond being noticed by this point. He had the target bugged and then some. And he was playing the role of just another bum pilot, flying a heap of junk that he'd taken off a friend's hand for nearly free. The thing couldn't even leave orbit in truth.

And so he waited. Javes was watching the races at the bar with some friends, all of which Grym could tell their addresses by memory by now. Grym had been an assassin for long enough, all he needed was a glimpse of the hunter and he'd know them for sure. Death reeked off those kind of people, a confidence only gained in murder. And none of the people currently residing within this bar had tasted of that experience like any assassin had. He took another drag before flicking the stick into a flower pot that only held other spent sticks.