The sound of Blaster fire and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Dezak kicked over a table and crouched behind it, twin WESTAR-34s blazing away, barely aware of the allied Stormtroopers around him, pounding away at the Rebels. The Rebels returned fire, a cacophony of various models of Blasters flaring from behind tables and chairs. The Cantina had transformed from a somewhat quiet place into a warzone. From behind his visor, Dezak smiled. Lord Vader had promised him a bounty of 12,000 credits for each Rebel he fried. So far, he felt like a rich man.