Always Read the Fine Print

[Akio Diachi]

Location: Nar Shadaa
Time: Midnight

Stench. There was no other term for a moon like this one. The Under City of Nar Shadaa reeked with it, not just as a smell but as an existance. As if the very buildings were made filthy and fitted with crime. As if the very people were born looking diseased, filthy, poor, and lack-luster. A glitterstim addict was curled up in the corner shaking from withdraw as he begged for chunk-change for another hit. A prostitute Twi'lek paraded around the sidewalk, a walking peitry dish of venereal diseases. A few drunk goons wabled past the Chiss. There was no honor here. There was disgust. And he was filled with it.

Standing clad from head to toe in his glistening black armor, with his hand-crafted sword across his back and his helmet firmly set on, the assassin's glowing red eyes glared out at the filth, he wanted it all to burn, he wanted it all to be set with fire and die like the dogs they were. Their very existence was a shame to him. His body was a walking armory of weapons that took more skill than these weaklings could ever dream of mustering. They were swine. They were less than swine. His contact could not get here soon enough. He was ready to get off this filthy dirty crate and do something useful. Something worthy of his skills.

[member="Aava Sasithorn"]

 

[Armand Temi]

The smell on Nar Shadda assaulted Aava's delicate olfactory senses. Zygerrians had a good sense of smell like most feline humanoids, but today she was cursing this attribute. She was in the Under City to meet a fellow Zygerrian who could help her establish her slaving practice again.

But as she walked the spice-ridden streets full of woe, misery and apathy, Aava began feeling a crisis of confidence. Perhaps now that she was fully exiled from Zygerria, she could actually turn her life around and do something more worthwhile... less criminal. She could still make a semi-honest living as a smuggler, and while she fancied herself a pretty fierce feline, she occasionally wound up in situations where she had to fight or flee for her life.

Turning a corner she ran smack into a man, likely Hrakian based on his jaundinced skin. He thrust her back so hard, she nearly lost her balance and ended up flat on the pavement. "Hey watch it!" she growled, and it was then that he pulled a blaster on her. Aava's hand hovered near the pistol at her hip, but she was no quick draw. Even though she was a fine shot, he would kill her before she reached her weapon.

[member="Akio Diachi"]

 

[Akio Diachi]

Akio was one of the most emotionless assassins in the galaxy had. But that was old Akio. And for this Zygerrian, it was a good thing he had changed.

He saw the mugging go down in a matter of seconds. When the blaster came out he moved in a matter of milliseconds. His throwing needles were flying through the air, three hitting the massive near human along his left back muscles. The Chiss sprinted, covering the twenty yards as the injured assailant turned around slowly.

The assassin's diachio flashed and the body and head fell in two parts.

As he sheithed his blade with droid-like efficiency, his red eyes sited the female from behind his chrome visor.

[member="Aava Sasithorn"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Aava blinked at the sudden violence that erupted in front of her. She hopped backwards a couple of steps and watched her assiliant's head separate from his body, courtesy of a stranger who appeared to come to her rescue.

She nodded at him and stroked her whiskers. "Well, that was impressive," said the Zygerrian slaver. "And I suppose I'm in your debt." She reached into a pocket on the side of her utility belt and pulled out a credit chit. For two reasons: one, she truly wanted to repay him. Two, she wasn't sure if he was also going to rob her and might as well give him what little money she was carrying just in case.

"I suppose you are normally paid much more to kill someone like him, but is 200 credits enough?"

As she looked down at the criminal's body, Aava also wondered what he might have on him that's valuable.

[member="Akio Diachi"]

 

[Akio Diachi]

Akio watched, noiselessly, unreacting. He was studying her, deciding who she was and what to do with her. He didn't see too many Zygerrians, especially these days. He had once killed a freighter of them to take down their leader--but that was a different story. One she didn't need to know.

He calmed his mind and body slowly, willing his heart to return to normal and his adrenals to balance out. He was a master of his own body, the greatest weapon he owned.

"Normally, yes, I am," he said at last. He bowed to her slightly at the waist, showing he meant respect and no harm. "No need for payment."

He wasn't a man of charity, but Dryzl would have wanted him to do that, so he did. That was all that mattered.

[member="Aava Sasithorn"]

 

[Armand Temi]

If you are going to start turning your life around, Aava, pick-pocketing the dead Hrakian was probably not a good place to start, she mused.

"Well, what do you need then? Nothing in this galaxy is free." She wiggled her fingers, displaying her sharp claws. "You scratch my back, now I scratch yours. That is the Zygerrian code after all." Of course, Aava's back scratch would most likely end up leaving multiple scars.

Still she wondered about the assassin. What brought him to Nar Shaddaa? Why had he intereferred? The Underworld wasn't a place where galaxians helped each other - it was a cold, fething cesspool, run by enterprising crime lords.

"Do you work for someone here on Nar Shadda?" she asked.

[member="Akio Diachi"]

 

[Akio Diachi]

"I work for whoever pays me," he said coldy, with droid like emotionless words. The maxim had been drilled deep into his psych like few other things.

He pondered a moment. Would Dryzl want him to help her? She wouldn't want him here at all. She would want him somewhere else. Doing good. Not killing. Not fighting. Not waging war. But he had saved a life. That was important. An innocent life--the man he was had passed. Now he was here trying to make things right. Trying. He could start by honoring someone else's culture, a culture that repays by 'scratching backs.'

"If you feel the need to repay, then you may by hiring me," he said with indifference. Though he truly cold see the importance; he would garner more respect and be the man she had wanted him to be by not killing to kill but by preserving life. That was what was important after all. Preserving life. "But not as an assassin. You can't afford those rates. I am the best at it." He adjusted his gauntlets, "However you look like you need a body guard. And I am--" he looked at the body between them, "well you can draw your own inferences on my skills at this."

[member="Aava Sasithorn"]