"It's cold."
(The wind bristled against his chest, Coruscant's dark streets and well travesred sky lines not keeping him warm at all. The air brushed through his robes and against his skin, as he pulled back his arm.)
(Yes, the weather and atmosphere were enough to make a Hutt shiver, but what he was was worried about was not the wind, instead it was the men below.)

"Theres no way around it, then?"
(The man asking appeared nervous but the other had a stoney look on his face as if... as if it had been carved there, and wasn't coming off.)
"You know as well as I do how these people work."
(The nervous man turned and swore. He paced some and turned back to his companion.)
"Man, you're right... I'm suprised they don't have assassins after me already."
(Unbeknonest to him, unseen as the man paced showing him his back, his friend has put on a pair of dark, synthetic fibered gloves. From his coat now he drew a blaster, concealed in his stomach to the worried man, then he spun and gave him the stoney look again.)
"They have."
(The worried man frowned, a submission. His shoulders slumped and his eyes welled with tears.)
"No... no..."

(The larger man up turned his thumb to the the unseen one clinging to the wall. It was done.)
(For him.)
(As Rivera left, silently he left no trace of ever being there. Well, one trace.)
(He smiled... odd, for him, as he mused to himself...)
"It's cold... the bodies will cool quickly."