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Just as they had planned, the Jupiter mercs faced the target. Three of them were armed with fully automatic rifles, opening fire on the bar. Any inhabitants torn apart by their gunfire were unimportant casualties, their deaths something the mercs would not lose an ounce of sleep over. The others retrieved hefty plasma rifles from their backs, looking around for any opposition to their operation, ready to eliminate any threats that came their way.

Thalgan cursed as John moved out of the way of his shot, seconds before the beam had even crossed through the window. How the man had accomplished such a thing left Thalgan puzzled, but he refocused his aim, firing off more shots in an attempt to erase John from existence. It wouldn't be an easy death to be sure, but it was the one Thalgan was dishing out. He continued to keep watch, waiting for the moment John's head popped into view.

Below, the Jupiter mercs continued their assault, ripping bullet holes into the bar and plasma burns into anyone brave or foolish enough to stand up to them. They slowly advanced on the pub as they riddled it with round after round, taking turns reloading as to maintain constant suppressive fire.

Their target wasn't getting away from them.