A Business Convention

[Marcus Tritum]

Oh man, nothing said snoozefest like a bunch of corporate sleazes getting together and milking the collective cow for all it was worth. Of course, that cow was composed of endless charts, graphics, and presentations on stock indexes and full of words like "bespoke opportunity tranche."

Almost put Dak to sleep, which would have sucked, seeing as how he was working security at this gig. The Big Wigs had upped the number of goons they wanted hanging around, what with the Republic gobbling up corporations like a Krayt Dragon at a Bantha family reunion.

As he rotated off-duty for a break, he noticed all the corporate fellas were tapping out for a bit as well.

Canton held his helmet under one arm and took out a cig. Embers soon glowed. He sucked in a lungful and settled into a nicotine dream.

A woman passed by him, immediately recognizable by the red hair and the prominent, well... the prominent bust. She didn't look so happy. Hell, if Canton's places of business were getting ransacked by Suits he probably wouldn't be too swell either.

"Need a smoke, ma'am?"

He offered the carton for inspection.

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Dak Canton"]

Danger was running hot throughout the past couple of hours, and not in the good way. Her mind was wracked with names, contacts, and comm frequencies. Things were hectic and right now, it was all she could do to settle her nerves and get a drink.

Alric was at Elysium, and now she was fit to be tied with having to deal with the exiled Republic Senate. So when the stranger offered her a miracle and a hallelujah in the form of one of her favorite vices, she just about swore in eagerness.

"You're a lifesafer," she'd drawl out, honeyed voice plucking that which was offered with a slight pinch of her fingers. Slipping the narcotic between two slender digits, she brought it up to her lips.

"Have a light?" she mused, an arch of a brow. That second look did it. Oh there was no denying that face, those rugged good looks. Those baby blue eyes.

It was Akure's GQ model himself. Dak Canton. Amusement lit her eyes. Well, didn't matter how old a woman of flesh and blood was; Dak Canton was a sight for sore eyes, she'd grant him that.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Well, hell's frosty blazes, looks like he'd caught the eye of Danger herself. He knew the easy once over when he saw it. Not the first time he'd seen that flash of recognition in a woman's eye. Thank you, Rave Merrill, one helluva job.

Did he have a lighter? Sure, but he didn't feel much like using it. Canton grunted, presumably in the affirmative, and leaned forward until the tips of their smokes touched. He didn't break eye contact. Bad business, breaking eye contact with predators, especially man-eaters named Danger. But dead kriffin' stars, those were the best kind. Dak drowned in emerald pools for the several seconds it took to light her smoke, then leaned back.

He smiled around the cigarette, fully conscious of those ivory curves near his armored form. Didn't hurt to spend a little time in beautiful company now and again. Beat working for Sith wackjobs, that was for sure. Besides, her eyes still hadn't left him.

"So, what's eatin' you?"

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Dak Canton"]



The cherry tip flared a bright red as Danger took a deep drag. A visible relaxation came to the woman as that spicy smoke streamed down her lungs and hit her with that narcotic goodness.

Oh, Alric might have encouraged her to stick to the vaporizor with it’s little vial of liquid nicotine that would smooth over the ruffled nerves. But there wasn’t anything that could really replace that satisfaction a cigarrillo gave. It was just like sex. Ain’t nuthin’ that run on batteries as good as the real thing.

Wry amusement would gleam within the emerald of the Trade Queen’s eyes. A slight chuckle escaped and she gave a half sigh.

“Tell me Mistah Canton,” her rich drawl would flow like thick honey towards the face of AEL. “ You ever catch yourself lookin’ at dick and bantha show wonderin’ if the clowns that play the fool are really fools or just playin’ the part?”

It was as close as she was ever gonna describe the ridiculousness of the Prime Minister lashing out with her totalitarian agenda and the attack to the free market that followed.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Smoke coiled around them in winding grey serpents born from the hot embers in their mouths. A line of sweat trickled down ruddy skin before slipping beneath the neck of the black body glove. The price of wearin' all that armor.

Canton looked up at those curling tendrils, illuminated by the artificial light from above. Legal poison, he called it, but nothing else took the edge off. Not after what he'd done. Dreams of dead children and burning Jedi. A bed soaked in sweat. He saw figures in the smoke. Faces. Dak inhaled sweet death and blew them away.

Nothing beat smokes and booze for repression.

His eyes came back down, settling on those verdant ponds. "Heh. You want to know if you should be lookin' for snakes in the grass, or if you're out there on a snipe hunt." He shrugged and blew out another memory. "Or are you wondering if people are just that dumb?"

"Trust me," his eyes traveled to the fingers wrapped around her cigarette. A ring sat on one finger. Had two big crystals in it. Probably cost a small moon. Brown eyes slipped past the ring and across pale skin until he met her gaze again. "They are."

A wink. "Dumb as a sack of bricks."

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Dak Canton"]


Danger couldn’t help but chuckle, small clouds of smoke blowing out of her mouth in her mirth. Ahh, I needed that. Needed some sort of lighthearted discourse something fierce.

She found herself relaxing, shoulders sinking a bit as her hip went cocking to the right. “Glad I ain’t the only one wonderin’ if some folk were one fry short of a McYoda meal.” came her wry tone, lips twitching in humor.

Glancing back at the younger man, Danger would mull for a bit.

“Ain’t doin’ any more Akure shots?” she meant specifically as their main face across holomagazines and holonet alike.

Literally, there ain’t no red blooded woman who don’t know who Dak Canton was. And dressed from head to boot in Rave’s custom leathers, one couldn’t find fault at how well it fit his form.

While the product sold itself, Dak Canton sure made any customer look twice.