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An Old Contact

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
It was time to call upon someone who he had met a long time ago. A pirate that went by the name of @[member="Luna Vega"]. He had already sent the transmission however and he had sent the coordinates to meet him on the fringe of Belkadan's system. It was practically in between systems, but that was irrelevant. She should be able to find him.

He walked across the bridge of the Watts-Class and looked about at the crew slowly. "Make sure long-range sensors are working at maximum capacity." His low voice said over the beeping of the machines. His voice commanded respect from those who served him when he spoke. He looked out the viewport, and the dark form simply stood there and would wait until he saw the sight of a ship coming out of hyperspace.
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
Just a beat up ole' freighter. Twos crew and bar cart to last for days.

The dust from the moon rained down upon the ship's deck from the heels of black thigh high boots as they hit the arm rests of the co-pilot chair. It was just another day for Luna Vega. Another credit. An open bottle. She stirred the amber liquid from within it's container, mesmerized by the small funnel it created. Dax rustled in the back, tossing garment after garment from a cabin down the way. "Say, why we makin' a run in the middle of Vex Voss Parade anyway? I lost fifty creds! Not to mention this is my day off!"

"An I tho' you wer'o pirate?! Days off..." Just then, her bright green eyes lifted to view the star mapped out in front of them. They sparkled with wonderment under a canopy of dark lashes. "O'the price ta pay fer freedom, laddy." She swatted at the hints of ravaged black curls, splintered in pinks and purples, then tucked them neatly behind her ears.

The Belkadan's system was just another hour out. "Take over. I've got to..." Luna paused and promptly stood, "...just take over." She spoke with the shake of the bottle and a sway in her step, passing him. "You smell nice... go pilot." The pirate made a sobering face, then continued down the hall. Dax was a no. And at least she was off Nar Shaddaa for now.

Nimble and albeit quite manicured fingers for a pirate, drifted up the buttons of her trench coat, fastening only the top four. A girl's gotta have room to go for the goods. Luna knew the man; this much was true. Business was business though and one had to be careful. She was obviously not known for that... and it was just one of those things she was going to have to fix. This didn't need to be the fourth ship to go missing.
"Captain," Dax whistled over the com, "we're in."

She nodded, as if he could see her, liking the sound of the title. "Aye." No matter if it were true or not. Another pull from her flask and she was headed towards the ramp, one arm snaked about a pipe for good measure. @[member="Darth Naefas"] was awaiting her arrival.
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
His hands remained clasped behind his back when one of his officers onboard the bridge made him aware of a ship dropping out of hyperspace. "Give her orders to come aboard. If not, I will go there." He said to the Captain of the ship and walked by him to go to the turbolift that led to the level of the hangar bay.

Once the doors to the hangar bay opened up he walked out, his hands always clasped behind his back and he thought of the soon to be coming events. His apprentice was on Belkadan and was preparing the planet's base camp, and he was here marshalling his allies. There was already a shuttle that was primed and ready for him to use to travel over to her ship. But he doubted that would happen, the shuttle would most definitely be too big.

And so he waited in the hangar bay for @[member="Luna Vega"]'s ship to come along and land within the Hangar Bay.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
"Go take a hike," she chirped, "get that muzzle wet." Or, just get away from me for now. Dax was always poking and prodding where he shouldn't be. Chiss. Mr. Superior himself. He knew how to handle craft exceptionally well though, which was his only redeeming quality.

One slender hand was propped on the hilt of her cutlass, hip cocked, and boots just begging to be stomped around in. Air control kicked on, ruffling the hem of the trench coat and unease made way like a banshee down her spine. "Force folk..." Luna let out on a sigh. They always gave her the creeps. More than Dax did.

The whine of the engines dropped to a purr- the ship, she was content with a nap for now, so unlike her occupant as they nestled into the appropriate hangar bay. At the hiss of airlocks releasing, the pirate tensed. A slight hint of fear was etched across her visage, thin dark brow aloft. Luna stood there while the ramp dropped and pulled her hand from the pipe she used to steady herself. The soles of her boots padded down the durasteel with barely a sound- perhaps it was her light footing... perhaps a great deal amount of stealth was required of her, given her career. Hell. Her life.

Electric-like green gems ran down the man appreciatively and she nodded, "It has been too long, doll," the pirate paused at arms length, fingers dancing about the hilt. She mused and offered the barest hint of a smile, "Lead the way."

@Darth Naefas
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
He grinned slightly and he turned, and started to walk out of the hangar bay until they reached a turbolift. When they entered and the doors opened he turned his head to look at her. "It has been a while, Luna Vega." He spoke softly. His voice almost sweet to the ears. "Still the beautiful pirate." He said sarcastically. Might as well loosen the tension in the air.

He turned his head to look at her, his yellow gaze finding her eyes and eye-balling her. It would probably take a while until they got to his private office.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
"Eons," Luna echoed his sarcasm with the dry lick of a feline. Still a compliment was a compliment, no use in throwing it away. "I was begin'n ta believe you ta have gone to teh gallows, love." The surprise and unease lit her face here and there and she fought the urge left and right to go fleeing back to the ship.

Her nose twitched, "I do hope you di'nt forget ta stock your bar." Vega needed to be some kind of numb and admittedly, she did not top off her flask. Inwardly, she groaned, rocking on the heels of her thigh high boots. The pirate gave a playful smile, "I must admit," voice drawling, "I doona remember ya bein' so handsome."

Talking as she sashayed behind him- she could multi-task, Dax would be so proud. It was a feat in itself. Alchemy inspired green duos stared at him, hoping he would face forward. Force folk, Luna shivered, fingers coiled about the opening of her coat and tugged to remedy it.
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
When the lift's doors opened he lifted up his arm to beckon her to come with him. And he walked out with or without her. He walked down a hallway and turned a corner to where the doors slid open with a swoosh, revealing his private office and chambers beyond. "I'm certain you remember where everything is from the last time you were here?" He said with a quite genuine sounding chuckle. Despite it being a fake one.

He walked around the long table that was in the dead center of the room until he got to the head of the table and sat down in his throne-like chair. On the back of it, was writings in Sith'ese and protruding from the top of it was his Sith Sword. Though he doubted she knew what that was. When he saw it, a faint grin came to his face, though he doubted she saw it...Since she was behind him.

Once he sat he indicated the chair closest to him on his right, and he wondered if she would sit where he indicated. "Find yourself something to drink, and then sit." He said lightly, though there seemed to be substance of an order there.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
Honestly. "I wish I could be as certain," she eyed him using peripheral vision. At the sight of the cabinet, Luna nearly jumped, skipped, and hopped. But she didn't. Instead, she moved with prowess, never really giving him her back. "I'm sure it will all come back to me at some point." Luna's digits frosted the tops of a few bottle before plucking a bottle of whiskey.

The sound of satisfaction trickled along those lips and they tugged at the corner, pulling off a smile of sorts. "So..." the pirate turned with the barest of flutter to her coat and closed the distance between to the chance. "No magic," she said suddenly, narrowing those pretty green eyes. The bottle was sat down, void of a glass as she unbuttoned her coat to sit comfortably.

"Let us get down to business." The young woman sat then, one hand on the bottle of whiskey and the other stroking the hilt of her cutlass appreciatively. She took note of the sword, assuming because this was his office, that it was indeed his. It looked familiar for some reason, she reflected, then silently harrumphed to herself. The bottle tilted and the top slipped off all in one go. Luna took pull enough to feel her throat set fire. "Mmmm... what is it you are in need of having, love?"

@Darth Naefas
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
He nodded his head when she took the seat beside him. Or at least diagonally of him. "Well of course the beautiful pirate known as Luna Vega." He said drily before he laid his hands onto the armrests of his throne. "When I, my forces, and my allies strike, I will need you." He said with the slightest hint of a grin, though he looked into his lap and continued to speak.

"I will give you a team, and you will steal a ship, or ships for me." He smiled, and then he looked up to look at her to see her response. "I'm certain you have your own friends to...Aide you." He stopped talking, before adding in: "You will of course be paid for the ships." He eyed her warily. Would she accept? Or naw?

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
Bingo.

A thin brow rose in curiosity, "What kind of ships we talkin'?" She leaned forward in his personal space. "How many?" Luna was serious, her eyes burned and the unease faded like sand from a shoreline. Just as quickly, the curls in her hair whooshed back, nestling into the seat once more. Her thumb circled the mouth of the whiskey and she waited, studying his face.

"How much is your need worth?" There was that pirate smile placed upon full lips, the sparkle in her eyes. The bottle was then placed on the table and a single digit slid along his jaw. It was placed back into her lap, a sigh escaping her, "And from who?"

Long limbs lifted and she gingerly propped her boots up on the table, crossing one over the other.

@Darth Naefas
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
He watched as her boots went up onto the table. He refrained from making a response upon it while his yellow gaze returned to her own orbs. "Probably frigates. Preferably one at a time." He waited a few more moments thinking of the next few questions. "My need? Millions. From who? Anyone who would oppose me." A toothy grin appeared on his crimson face from beneath his hood.

For the first time in company, he pulled off his hood to reveal his strong jawline and Sith tattoos covering his face. Though he was certain she had already seen them. "Or is that a problem?" He said as he leaned back into his throne.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and Luna mentally traced the tattoos covering his visage, the process stilled her train of thought for coupled moments. She went to reach for them and wrangled the neck of the whiskey instead. "Seems a pretty.... rapacious need, love." Even though there was some sort of mnemonic Force pulling her towards him, the young lady sunk back into her chair until she felt she was one with it. The feeling felt too foreign and to close to home at the same time.

"Show me the numbers," Millions sounded generous, but even for the fool she could be, it sounded... off kilter in the grand scheme of things. Her voice was light, submissive and her lips teetered on a smile. "Or, we'll be at this for hours...."

Teasing him was probably not in her best interest, she knew what he was capable of. Lighten the mood, m'yes. "Would you like me to get you a drink?"

@[member="Darth Naefas"]
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
He was quiet for a few moments. Was she trying to taunt him? That was surely not in his best interests. "Any of your needs or desires will be given to you upon aiding me." He said softly. "Within my power of course." He continued. And he leaned in to her again. His bare hand brushed along the length of her face before it fell to take the data pad from the end of the table, and he slid it over towards her.

He waited while she read it and replied to her last question. "No. Though you may have more to drink of course." He waved his hand towards the cabinets where she had gotten the whiskey and he turned his head to look at her again. He was curious whether to know if she was satisfied with the numbers.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
Thank the gods for spirits. The touch may have been too much. It may have sent her backpedaling to the War Wren. Normally, such skin contact from Force types, would make her skin crawl. Literally. With electricity, or what felt like it. The whiskey took from him the intensity his touch would normally have caused. Luna was not entirely sure why. Only that she preferred the burn the alcohol gave, rather than the shock Force adepts caused.

Even so, Luna Vega took special care not to recoil and give such a weakness away and nimbly avoided any contact in the exchange of the data pad. Intense emerald eyes scrolled down the screen, cross-examining figures. She glanced up at Naefas from under feathered black lashes. "Perhaps one needs a token of good faith? Share a drink with me, love. This once." The pirate smirked, milling through possibilities.




@[member="Darth Naefas"]
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
He tilted his head to the side. "A drink with you?" He repeated after like, dumbly. "And what will I receive in return for drinking with you?" He said looking down upon her. He leaned in to her, with enough room for them to still have their own space. He shook his head and kept his face in front of hers.

The first time they had met, it was a lot more bearable, but now, she was playing some game. And he wouldn't have it, not unless she was playing at his game. "Enjoy the whiskey." He said with a warm smile. In fact, it was shocking, this smile wasn't a predatory smile. But in fact, just something plastered on his face until it left it.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
After blinking what seemed like a dozen times, she shifted her position in the chair and removed her boots from the desk. "S'bad luck to no share a drink with one you are..." she stopped, pushing to her feet. "Nev'mind." Luna straightened her jacket and buttoned the top three in one fluid motion. "Doona treat me like that," she said hotly, before turning away and heading for the door. Force types, she thought and felt the urge to spit.

"Consider it done." Rage racked her body in waves. Not once had she not came through on any job. This bravado of sorts was disgusting. "I'll be in touch," she paused in front of the door, "Mi'lord."


@[member="Darth Naefas"]
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What have I done?" He blurted out, seeming to have lost all his composure when he asked the question. He was confused as to why she was leaving. What had he done? He had only declined drinking with her and asked a question. And from what he could sense...She was angry? And for what?

He stood up from his throne and he walked to the lift behind her. "And you are mad for what?" It was always better to have someone you employed to not be mad with you he decided when he had asked the question.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
"Och," anger had her eyes glowing, her thin brows furrowed, and her cheeks flushed the barest hint of a Muja fruit. "Ya might as well uhh gave me ah death wish." She stilled at the close proximity and turned on her heel to face him. "You knoe nothin'!" Pirates were very superstitious. "Nothin', Naefas!" She looked the part of a crazed wild woman, with her hair of curls and tiny braids unkempt and rain forest inspired eyes. "Ya deny a parting drink... on a night such as thez! A token of gud fortune... wishin' well a job ya want done?"

Small hands clenched at her sides, along the black fabric of the trench coat, "Blimey!"

Usually Luna was quite calm, carefree... But bad luck? Oi. She could do well enough without that. He acted as if she were tryin' to seduce him. No, that wasn't Luna. Half of the other lassies, perhaps. But that was not her game. That might have worked better, she thought idly in the silence. Vega lifted her chin and glared at him. It was quite possibly the rudest thing one could have done to a space surfer.


@[member="Darth Naefas"]
 

Tormax Tryte

Lord of Dread
Writer
His hand reached up and grabbed her face. He held her, for what seemed like forever. He knew she didn't like it. He felt it in the Force. "Do not raise your voice." He said, speaking quietly. She had no need. Her superstitions were unwarranted and had no place on his ship. "I would have thought you remembered I do not drink." He spoke barely above a whisper and she would have felt the grip of the hand on her face tighten.

He truly thought of killing her on the spot. Though he needed her to do a few things for him before that day came. "Take a seat Luna Vega." He uttered the words quietly. He would have only let go of her face if she did indeed do as he said.

@[member="Luna Vega"]
 
Resident Space Pirate
Writer
The hold paralyzed her for seconds upon seconds; electricity in those hands had somehow kept Luna in a place of constant chaotic pain. She was not sure how much longer she could deal with it. "Get," she managed to grit out between chattering teeth, "ya hands off'a'me."

Silky smooth electric as a voice... a blanket of nerve endings being cut. Her voice was raspy, "I said, I would do teh job. Get off'a'me! Lemme go!" Panic stricken eyes gazed up. Luna began pawing at his hands in attempt to break them from her face. The pain had subsided and she had gone numb. There would be repercussions. In time. Not now.

Slowly, like a snake, she let a smile pass over her lips. The pirate sat, not because she wanted to, but rather as a way of escape. "I was being generous... when hav' ya known me ta share my spirits? You could've had Jawa juice for all I care..." Luna was still glaring at him, "It is the act that matters, you imbecile." She was seething. "Had ya thought to ask..." The coolness of the cutlass gave her some comfort and her pulse began to regulate itself.

@[member="Darth Naefas"]
 
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