Private Be Pink, Do Crime

[Yula Perl]

//Denon
//Undercity Corrections​

The Corpos were playing games.

And they were winning.

The investigation into Yula Perl grew from more than rigging a few shockboxing matches. Add to that list: illegal modification of personal and commercial vehicles, disorderly conduct, assaulting an officer (or three), smuggling illegal goods (in another system, c’mon!), and distribution of illicit substances.

That was how she knew they were bullchit charges.

“I didn’t even do that last one, probably. I’m clean now.” She insisted to her cellmate, a gotal that was spiced out of her mind.

The other woman snorted a bleating laugh from her bed. She’d gotten top bunk. “Sure, and I’m at a Jave Hatthews concert right now.” She laughed again, that nearly manic, pitched giggle that was characteristic of spice and rolled over.

Yula frowned. “I’m telling ya, the Corpos are messing with me. Maybe it’s an old charge they’ve dug up—what’s the statute of limitations on these things?” She scratched her stomach lazily while her bunkmate answered with another fit of unhinged laughter.

Maybe the gotal had taken a bad batch. Who knew what was in prison spice.

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Despite his newfound reliance on strong spirits and bars, he had managed to keep his senses and wits about him. Earlier in the day they were peaked by an oddly familiar voice, at least the attitude was. Brow furrowing, he turned around and looked out the glass opposite the counter he resided at. Authorities swarmed around a young duo of women, a gotal and a zeltron.

"Kids these days huh?"

The words of the bartender were completely blocked out as his gaze intensified, a subconscious thought pushing his mind through the haze of too many shots out into the crowd, the feelings and emotions of the bystanders and the two incarcerated becoming apparent. The pink one caught his attention as she was shoved into the police speeder, a flash of pink skin and dark hair. There was something eerily familiar with her aura, almost as if he'd bumped into her before. It reminded him of-

Feth.

Sighing he downed his last shot and slid a handful of credits to the man behind the counter with a wave beckoning him closer to grab the parcels before someone else did. Now standing he slipped his arms into his cloak, speaking loud enough only for the bartender.

"Point me in the direction the coppers went, yeah?"

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

Maybe this crackdown had something to do with the Galactic Alliance shuffling closer to Denon. With the Shadowrunners moving further underground, the Corpos had sensed an opportunity to further their influence. Putting away any potential obstacles would make that easier.

“Maybe you should stop doing crime.” Coming down from a bump, the gotal sighed pleasantly and stared at the ceiling as if it were the starry skies above Tatooine. “That seems to be your problem.”

“And spice isn’t yours?” Yula shot back, sitting up in her bed. Spice was kind of her problem too, but she’d been sober for a few weeks. That was something.

Flopping back down onto the duracrete slab that was referred to as a mattress, a sigh blew past her lips.

“They deserve it. Corpos aint people.”

A stun baton smacked the edge of the cell, creating a ripple in the energy field keeping the two women inside. Sparks danced along the gap it created before the field closed itself up.

“Quiet in there!”

--

The bartender slid the credits from the counter, offering a sharp gesture of his chin in return.

“Station’s three blocks down.”

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Swift strides swung him through the crowds of people with ease, his eyes scanning the sea of faces and building infront of him. This recent discovery was utterly unexpected, and he was quite honestly a little lost as to what it might pertain. Or better yet- who. But when had that ever stopped him before.

Grunting softly, the bright lights of the corrections facilities greeted his eyes, burning slightly as he was used to the dimly lit spaces of bars, cantinas, and his own ships. Looking around he moved to the desk, burning gaze peeking out from the cowl of his hood before knocking on the surface lightly, vying for attention.

"The uh...pink one. Her files." The words were uttered softly but with enough force to let the officers know he wasn't quite asking.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

The officer behind the desk glanced up at the hooded man—his gaze turning into a squint when he realized that he had to crane his neck to look the newcomer in the eye. Interruptions were generally not welcome by the haggard staff of Denon’s 49[SUP]th[/SUP] precinct.

Pink women were not in short supply behind the bars, and the portly man leaned back as if he were considering the odd request. Perhaps his girlfriend had gotten in trouble, and he was here to bail her out. That wouldn’t be particularly odd. Women of the night had a certain way with their clients, occasionally leading them on.

With a grunt, he laced his fingers together and appraised the man in front of him.

“Which one?”

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

A drawn out sigh could be heard from the man, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Leaning back slightly he looked around the precinct more carefully, his trained yet slightly blurry vision noting the almost complete lack of security in the facility. Slowly his gaze turned back to the officer, a blank expression meeting his questioning one.

"Yeah, yeah I suppose that was rather vague," grumbling he waved his hand dismissively, a tight smile barely gracing his features followed by a slight wince while snapping his fingers, seeming deep in thought. Besides being a bit foggy at the moment his mind was still rather sharp, and now that he was actually engaging in civil conversation with someone sober, maybe two or three less drinks wouldn't have hurt. "She had a partner. A gotal."

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

The officer snorted through his thick mustache. He couldn’t blame the man—on any given night, the cells were full of Zeltrons, Twi’leks, and other breeds of scantily clad women. Such was the way of the underworld.

With a grunt of exertion, he reached into one of the drawers underneath his desk, rummaging around through the various files and police accouterment. Producing a datapad, he slapped it unceremoniously onto the counter.

“Most recent arrests are at the top. At least three in for solicitation tonight, and one for rigging a bunch of shock boxing matches.”

He sounded as disinterested as one could be when talking about women.

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Unfortunately for the rest of the women there he was there for a much less intimate reason. As his fingers pulled the data pad closer he scanned the room behind the officer, his mind following searching for the door release. His patience had wore thin for the fat man.

"Yeah yeah...much obliged." There. At the top of the list was a surname he knew quite well. A low drawn out whistle and a raised brow was his response to her bail.

"Damn near highway robbery." With a scoff and flick of his wrist, that familiar tug could be felt in his gut as he called on the Force. A low beep followed by the hiss of the door could be heard while a smirk crossed his face. Giving a mock salute the officer was flung forward, his head smacking the desk before him. Glancing around to make sure no alarms had gone off yet, he raised an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Should be careful of who you're letting in these days." Speaking to himself he strode down the hallway towards the cell blocks, kissing his teeth while his methodical gaze passed over the cell numbers. Understandably, the inmates were roused as a stranger with no guard was moving through the hallways, hooting and obscene words being heard, most just asking to get out. Sighing deeply, he pressed on, his target drawing near.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

A brief, muffled commotion stirred the interest of the prisoners. The holding cells were jammed full tonight, plenty of drunkards, druggies, and night workers craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whoever was making their way down the hall. Another gangbanger who’d spend the night in the slammer alongside them?

With her cellmate having finally calmed down from her giggle fit, Yula was just starting to nod off. That was, until the man in the cell next to her started swearing. Slurred words echoed heavily within the duracrete walls, and he threw something—a bottle?—at the door-shielding keeping him in his cell.

Either the man was strong, or the shielding was as flimsy and cheap as many of the knockoff goods in the Denon underworld, because the bottle somehow managed to pass through the translucent blue barrier, aimed right at the tall stranger in the hall.

The string of curse words that followed roused Yula from her bed. They’d started off in Basic, then trailed into some alien language, but boy did they sound pissed. Rising from the stone slab she was meant to rest on, the Zeltron lingered near the threshold of her cell, absently rising on her tip-toes to try and get a glance at the newcomer who clearly wasn't a cop.

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Glancing down at the data pad, his thoughts were drowned out by the collective chorus of a few dozen voices. Nothing too sweet or welcoming either. Pushing through he could feel the many pairs of eyes following his every movement. What a welcoming party. Thankfully, there was a barrier between them all.

Or so he thought. His senses picked up the glass bottle flying at him a second too late, barely missing his attempt to block it with his hand. Brows furrowed he turned around, his grimace fading into a more perplexed, then worried look. Others were motived to begin throwing random objects through the weak barriers separating their cells. All maters of things being thrown at him now.

Luckily, this cell was right next to the one he needed. A few steps forward and he came face to face with his target. Mostly. His flaming eyes gazed over the rim of the data pad at his pink target before throwing it dismissively down the hallway. Raising a brow he ushered her back with his free hand, his blaster spinning from the cover of his cloak into the other. A well placed shot into the controls outside and her barrier fizzled and popped before shutting off.

Reaching up he pulled the cowl of his cloak down, giving her a tight smile. "C'mon girly. Let's get you outta here, so you can presumably do it all over again."

Time was of the essence now as orange-red lights flashed outside each cell, but even worse some prisoners began to throw themselves and other larger objects at the thin barriers in drunken rage.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

Standing before her was a tall man with literal fire in his eyes. After getting a look at her, the datapad was tossed unceremoniously down the hall and he gestured for her to step back.

“Uhh…”

She followed the motion and paced to the corner of the cell on the opposite side. One plasma bolt to the controls, and the door-shield flickered away. Her cellmate didn’t seem to care either way.

While this happened, Yula tried to blink the confusion from her eyes while studying his face. Did she know him from somewhere?

It didn’t matter—the Zeltron knew an opportunity when she saw one. If he turned out to be nefarious, she’d lose him in the undercity.

“Thanks,” She said briskly as they hurried down the hall. Incensed by the brewing riot, an inebriated Gamorrean rammed his large body against the barrier and managed to break through. He roared in intoxication while tossing the durasteel bedframe from his cell at the pair. Despite being in heels, Yula managed to slip to the side of the metal structure, having been twisted into a collection of odd angles by the Gamorrean.

“Hey, I don’t uh—” She glanced at her rescuer. “I don’t owe you money or anything, right?”

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Her words were barely heard over the uproar of the many prisoners, especially the fat pig man. In stride he also side stepped the bed frame, taking a shot with his blaster to disable the newest of their pursuers. As the Gamorrean squealed in pain, more and more inmates broke free. Either by pushing through the flimsy barriers or smashing the controls of others, there was a lot of unhappy, drunk bodies rushing down the hall towards them.

Turning towards his younger pink companion, he flashed a smirk her way, his brow raised. "No, nothing like that girly." Looking back over her head his smile faded, the mess of prisoners brandishing bent and destroyed tables and bed frames like weapons. "Don't thank me either, your mother would crucify me if she found out I broke you out of jail."

Rounding the corner he held out his arm, his face deadpanned. Holding out his arm to stop her from passing his gaze rested on a half dozen barely armored and disheveled riot guards. Letting a drawn out sigh he pulled his cloak off his shoulders, handing it to her with a grimace. "Hold this, yeah?" Before she could truly accept or decline, he was moving. Now in his fatigues and black shirt, he had retained his freedom of movement.

A blur to the untrained eye, he was on the first guard, a closed fist meeting a nose, sending the loose fitting helmet into the air. Reaching up he grabbed the helmet and swung around, ducking an oncoming baton strike. Smashing the helmet into the nearest knee he could find, satisfied as he felt it give way, he rose to meet the remaining four. Surprise was stilll on his side for the most part, and he used it to his advantage. Grabbing the next two he used the momentum to thrash them both into each other. Feeling a baton break over his back he grunted, definitely feeling it. Growing impatient he pulled the man down onto the ground hard by the visor of his helmet. Finally done, he stood with a groan, rolling his neck around. Getting way too old for this chit.

Jogging back to her gave a pained grimace before looking over her shoulder. Eyes widening, Nate quickly pushed her towards the door, yelling out while following close behind her. "Go! I'll be right behind you," His words soon being drowned out by the very near and very angry prisoners. He stooped down, grabbing a riot control grenade that had caught his eye earlier off the mostly unconscious, groaning guards.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

"Don't thank me either, your mother would crucify me if she found out I broke you out of jail."

Whoop, there it is.

“Let’s not tell her, then.”

If she had time, her shoulders would have sagged in relief over him not being a debt collector or a contract killer. Prison breaks afforded no such luxury.

As they bounded around a corner, Yula all but clotheslined herself on the man’s outstretched arm.

“Oof.” She gasped as her stomach hit his arm, her own limbs jerking forward with the abrupt halt. They’d come face to face with a group of hastily armored guards, and the next thing she knew, the stranger’s cloak was in her face and he was off like a shot. He thrashed his way through the guards in a near-instant before shoving her towards the exit, turning back to deal with the approaching rioters.

Don’t have to tell me twice.

Yula sprinted out the door and came face to face with the two riot guards who were covering the exit.

“Oh.”

The next few moments were comprised of a series of grabbing motions from the guards, and ducking and dodging from Yula as she weaved around them on the point of her stilettos. Dipping behind one, she used Nate’s cloak to cover his eyes and draw his back towards her—just in time for him to take a stun baton to the face that was meant for her. “Oops. Careful with that thing!”

Unfortunately, this placed her back to the wall, and the next blow from the stun baton came too quickly. Electricity crackled against her ribcage and she folded to the ground, but not without punching the officer in the leg with her heel. He came down with her, a struggle ensued, and ended with Yula knocking the man out by conking her head against his own.

Heh…works every time.

The cost of that move would be another migraine for Dagon to deal with.

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

With a groan he pulled back his arm, the bruised but still trained tendons and muscles working to prepare for a throw. Simultaneously priming the grenade and pulling his blaster out, he closed an eye, taking aim. Squeezing he waited for the loud pop of the canister exploding, sending either gas or small rubber pellets everywhere. Except, he missed.

"God- mother- .." Muttering under his breath he sent a quick follow up shot this time making contact. Turning away to the sounds of the many prisoners in pain, his eyes rested on the aftermath of Yula. Jogging over to her he grabbed her by her forearm with his left and his cloak in his right. The soft spot in-between gentle and roughly, he pulled her up mid stride, throwing his cloak over her as blue and red lights were seen through the viewports.

"Lead out the door and take a left then keep going, I'll be close." Speaking softly, they pushed out the side door onto the street. It only made sense it was mildly crowded, the noise drawing some attention. Before she could turn around he had blended into the shadows and many faces, out of sight.

Rotating his shoulder he grimaced, holding back a groan as the wound was still extremely tender. Much to his dismay, the few years passing hadn't quite helped his body adjust to the rigors of casually breaking a metaphorical niece out of prison, but then again nothing really did.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

The telltale pop of something discharging behind the door reached her rattled brain. Yula raised her head as a brief flood of light spilled into the alley, the unconscious body of the guard she’d been wrestling with slipping from her grasp. Fortunately, it was a friendly face. He was intact, but the grimace on his face didn’t look pleasant.

“Hey, you—oph.” Yula grunted as he grasped her arm and set her upright, stumbling into a fast walk. “Hey, hey…oh, okay.” Blue and red lights cycled across her face, and she understood that backup had arrived. And not the kind meant to help them.

For the second time today, he didn’t have to tell her twice. Yula had no idea what he was going after, why not just slip away as easily as he’d slipped into the shadows of the crowd? Shrugging, she pulled the cloak tighter over her shoulders and made her way down the maze of alleyways that comprised a large swath of the Denon underworld. This was her home, after all—maybe he’d catch up and take back his cloak, maybe he’d disappear into the night.

“Thanks, buddy.” She mumbled, rounding a corner that served as the back of Pogan’s Noddle House.

Who knew what he'd stayed behind to do, or even who he was. He knew her, clearly-it was the how that made her nervous.

Sure feet and the durasteel implants in her nails allowed her to scale the building quickly, each step making contact with familiar divets in the duracrete. Once she'd made it to the roof, Yula stopped to survey the night skyline of the city, bathed in neon and shadows.

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Shielding his eyes while they adjusted in the sudden bright white light, he groaned moving deeper into the small storefront. As the medical aisle drew into sight he stopped taking a deep breath, looking down at the damp spot on his shirt above his belt. Pinching a section of the cloth he checked around him before pulling it up slightly. Much to his dismay, the broken blade of a cheap knife stuck in his side wasn't a hallucination. Nor was the blood sticking to his shirt.

Grunting, he muttered under his breath, letting the shirt drop down. "Feth." Moving down the shelves, he grabbed some gauze and hopefully enough wrappings to keep it secure in case they had to run again. That was, if she was still within his reach. Sighing he moved to the counter, setting his things down.

Raising his eyebrows, he watched the clerks gaze run up his arms, down his chest and over his weapons on his hips. A slight flicker within the flames of his eye could be seen while he kissed his teeth, moving back into the aisles. Returning shortly with two bottles of strong clear liquid, needing one to help dress the wound. The other however, was just for fun.

"That'd be all."

~~

Stepping through the crowds, he scanned around for not only a familiar pink face, but his cloak as well. Brow furrowing, he felt his conscience push out into his surroundings, getting a slight nudge to his right, down a few alleyways. Luckily his wound had stopped bleeding, mostly. Every step however he could feel it move. Brow furrowing, he stopped at an intersection, the familiar nudge all but disappeared. Hearing a crackle and pop above him his head turned, looking up. The neon sign of the building behind him glowing to life, illuminating his face in yellow and purple. Looking higher, his gaze rested on the edge of the wall, a slight pull being felt. Sighing he grumbled under his breath, moving around the building to hopefully find a ladder.

Luckily there was a fire escape, only two or three stories above him and it seemed in relatively good shape. Reaching up with his hand he called on the force to pull the rusted ladder free from its steely coffin, setting it down softly to avoid unwanted attention. Clamping the bag in place between his teeth he made his way up the many rungs of the ladder and stairs. Choosing to ignore the many creaks and groans of the metal he pulled him self over the wall with a sigh, his eyes resting on his target.

"Picked helluva spot kid."

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

The groan of shifting metal guided Yula’s head down towards the base of the building. The soft ebb of a newly familiar presence followed shortly, making its way up the wall.

Yula met him with a sheepish smile, his cloak still wound tightly around her form.

“The food’s terrible, but it’s a good vantage point.”

She plopped herself down, legs swinging over the edge. “That’s true, you know. Can see a whole mess of blind spots from up here, and the ledge is angled so that it’s hard to find anyone up here while you’re on the ground.”

A good spot to stop, rest, and lose your followers. Her head turned toward him, the pink of her face partially washed out by the greenish glow from a nearby billboard.

“Who are you, anyway?”

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Only grunting at her words he dropped his bag near her, moving to the edge to look over slowly. Holding his tongue in pain he pulled a bottle from the bag, multitasking as her words rung out over the sounds of pedestrian night life below them. The metallic aroma of blood reached his senses as he freed his arm from its sleeve.

Struggling slightly to pull the corner of his shirt over his shoulder he inhaled sharply, the air hitting the still tender wound. Turning in the greenish light he glanced over at her as she finished with her question. Adverting his gaze back down to his side he peeked under his arm at the mess of scars, tattoos and blood now out in the open.

His voice was slightly muffled by the fabric of his shirt in his mouth before spitting it out to replace it with the cap of his bottle. "More or less your uncle, I used to be close with your mother, we worked together." Giving a slight smile he twisted the top off the bottle with his teeth.

"Sorry for the impromptu introduction, but I figured the least I could do was get you out."

In quick succession, he spit the cork off the roof before taking a deep swig. Now meeting her gaze he raised an eyebrow while the slight squelch from wiggling his fingers into the wound to grab the blade could be heard.

"You get into trouble often?" His voice hiccuped slightly during the brief second of pain while he wrestled the blade from his side.

Yula Perl

 

[Yula Perl]

Before he’d even answered her, Yula turned where she sat and angled closer to him. Her face creased in concern—he was hurt.

Shirtless, injured men seemed to be a recurring theme in her life.

Through a mouthful of shirt, he explained who he was, and a light flickered on in Yula’s mind. “Ah yeah, that makes sense.” She grinned sheepishly. The Perl name was known on certain worlds and in certain industries, but it was always a bit surprising to run into someone who knew her mother personally. “From the Jedi? Or, let me guess…the ‘Rim?” Didn’t seem like the Jedi type at first glance, but she’d learned better than to trust first impressions. Some of the NJO folks, Dagon included, preferred leather jackets to robes.

“I appreciate it, man. So, which Uncle are y—oh merciful Ashla what the f--!”

The realization that he was wrenching a knife from the flesh of his torso spurred Yula to her feet, wide eyed.

“You got shanked back there? Geeeze…” She cringed but didn’t move to assist him just yet, more preoccupied that he was still able to talk while removing a shiv from his abdomen.

“I…uh, yeah, I guess I sometimes can’t avoid it.” Yula blinked dumbly. “You uh, you need any help with that?”

Nate Phantoms

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Nodding stiffly his gaze flickered while pulling the blade from the meaty part of his side. Adverting his gaze he spread the wounds open slightly. Much to his dismay, it wasn't showing any signs of immediate regeneration. Through gritted teeth he muttered a line of curses before splashing most of the bottle against it.

As the blood mixed with the alcohol he rummaged through his bag before pressing some gauze firmly against it. Pulling out a small suture kit his bright gaze met her green one with a small, tight smile.

"Ah my apologies," Brow furrowing he placed the small plastic container between his teeth before outstretching his hand, a wicked grin forming. It wasn't every day you get to meet a niece while bleeding all over. "Uncle Nate was common."

Now moving back to his wound his smile disappeared. He doubted Yula knew of the surgery he had undertook, but the long, thick almost geometric scars running in tandem up and down his limbs and torso would be a slight hint to the prying eye. Pulling the gauze back slightly he wiped most of the blood off, needing to see.

"I figured as much with a record like that. Maybe we can go talk to some big cats upstairs hm?" After pulling open the kit, he managed to get a decent knot and seemingly long enough thread to fit. Kissing his teeth he looked up at her question, her wide stare making him chuckle. "No no it's nothing kid I'm alright for now, thank you."

The last fourth of the bottle would be downed before starting the methodical, and very painful task ahead of him. It was like muscle memory, he had grown accustomed to having to rely on natural means to close his wounds for a bit now. Looking up at her with a slight wince as the needle pierced his skin, he inclined his head towards her.

"You can however ask any questions you may have, and then start to explain your... dilemma."

Yula Perl