Private Bright Faces in Low Places

[Zlova Rue]

Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Alluria Ivalice | Damsy Callat | Moe Uilor | Confederacy of Independent Systems (Open)

It was late. It was always late on Nar Shadda. It was a moon that orbited a cesspool, where the sun never shined, and the slaves never slept. Only those that held power, or hid in the shadow of those people wanted to live here. Plenty used it. Countless foul souls visited it. It was easy to pass through knowing you didn't have to deal with the gangs and the complete disregard for order -- so long as credits flowed. It made it the perfect place to disappear.

Better yet, with so many consumed by their petty desires, there was no shortage of work either. A job that paid surprisingly well that didn't involve killing someone, stealing from someone, or throwing people in cages. One so many would kill to possess -- if only they were suited for it. A Twi'lek was always welcome as a worker in a club; especially one as 'exotic' as she was. Some liked them blue. Some liked them green. Most seemed to like them red. Disgusting. Sordid. Demeaning. Maybe people thought that, but Zlova called it work. It paid, and paid well. Enough to avoid being forced to live elsewhere where the past might creep up on her.

As she strode through the streets wearing far more clothing than she did at the club, Zlova ignored those that curled up along the side of the street, or the calls of merchants eager to make a sale to avoid falling prey to the cesspit -- or because they already had, and sought protection from being seen as a 'failure' better suited to other forms of work.

If there was one thing she hated most about the moon, it was the darkness. The tangible Darkness that felt like a sheen of oil you could spend hours scrubbing and still not get it all off. That reminded her too much of the past, but she dealt with it. There was no paradise out there among the stars for her.

The Twi'lek's golden eyes flicked off to the side without thinking about it. Bad habit. She couldn't risk seeing anything worth noting. Better to just... leave the world to its own devices, long as it left her alone.

 

[Henna Ga'yali]

Growing up on the streets of Nar Shadda, a rather dark and foreboding place in the galaxy, might have made many, if not most, cynical and rough. But that was not the case for one little child.

Abandoned at a very young age and left with no family or means to survive, not even a name, a young girl learned to fend for herself. A miracle really, some would say.

She knew she didn’t have a real name—she had never been given one. She didn’t know her parents or how she came to be where she was, all she knew was the people around her referred to her as “Bugsy.” For a while she didn’t know why nor did she care, she just accepted it. She had a name, finally!

With chestnut hair that often looked gold in the sunlight—not there was much of that around here—and eyes of frosty blue, Bugsy was an anomaly to any who beheld her. She was a slight figure of no more than 1.5 meters, or so she had been told, and was nearly as blind as a Miralukan, whatever that was. There was no definitive reason that anyone could guess as to who she really was or how she had survived as long as she had in such an unforgiving place, but here she was, running and smiling as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

While she had a tendency to roam many streets and alleys, she had one in particular she called home. She didn’t know its name or what it looked like, she only knew it by its feeling. In her little home alley, if you could call it that, were several merchants and smugglers. Bugsy didn’t have many friends, not surprising for one living on the Smuggler’s Moon. It wasn’t exactly a place of trusting or trustworthy people. She did, however, have a few kind souls that looked out for her. Either that, or she was just extremely lucky more often than not. Bugsy would often find discarded food that wasn’t terribly mouldy. She would also, from time to time, find only slightly used garments that always seemed to fit her perfectly, which was something indeed considering she had…what had that one little boy called them? Wings. Once she stumbled upon such a pile that also included shoes and even what she was told were glasses. She was elated! She could make out figures and shapes from all those blurs she had always known.

It was not long after receiving the glasses that Bugsy was wandering the streets in search of food and fun that she tripped and stumbled, scraping her knee. She was so enthralled with the new shapes that she forgot her surroundings and unknowingly ventured into an area she did not know. Everything she sensed felt wrong, out of place. She had never been able to actually see her surroundings, always sensed them. She didn’t know how and she never really questioned it. She stayed where it felt familiar. But this, this was different.

---

Zlova Rue Alluria Ivalice Damsy Callat Moe Uilor

 

[Alluria Ivalice]

Location: Streets of Nar Shaddaa
Equipment: Two Lightsabers
Mental State: Calm
Tags: Zlova Rue , Henna Ga'yali , Damsy Callat , Moe Uilor

​

The Force was a mysterious thing and yet it always seemed to lead in interesting ways. Some time before, it had brought her to the beginnings of her path into the fold of the Knights Obsidian and the Mandragora. This time, however, it brought her the infamous Smuggler's Moon. To question the purpose of such a thing seemed fruitless as only in following its guidance would she find the answers instead of refusing its will and remaining where she last was in rest. Her studies could wait until things were taken care of and she would certainly admit to be curious as to why it was this place among the many that had called to her.​

​

From the moment of arrival, senses through the Force were overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the beings populating the moon. Trusting in the guidance which brought her to this point, Alluria figured she would know her purpose when the time comes. Patience would be a great virtue here, or so she beleived anyway.​

​

Walking the streets, a cloak concealed her usual outfit and her lightsabers which hung on her right hip. Though despite the concealment of her weapons, the woman's appearance seemed to draw attention of not only the shopkeeps looking for a quick, or rather expensive, sell but also a few of the more shadowy individuals around. Most, no matter how brave, kept their distance and rightly so. Though she had not come here for violence, the witch would quickly show any of them the error of their ways.​

​

"To come to this world.." She spoke with a sigh, "I feel as though the Force itself has a sense of humor."​

​

​

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Alluria Ivalice | Damsy Callat | Moe Uilor | Confederacy of Independent Systems (Open)

With the dark cowl drawn low over her features, and the slight ruffle of the cloak as she moved down the street, even a flash of her red flesh drew no concern. For while her heart had been crushed with the loss of everything but her own power, Zlova still moved through the streets with the same gait and posture of a Sith Lord. The muscle memory had yet to fade despite the dreary environment the Twi'lek now found herself. With Nar Shadda having not that long ago suffered a rampage from a victorious Sith Empire, its people were wary of those dressed like Zlova. A wide berth was given; only the thickest of gangsters would think themselves able to 'handle' a Sith in open combat.

A quick blink and the Twi'lek and caught sight of what appeared to be a woman stooped low on the street. That alone wouldn't have held her attention so much as the wings the small one possessed. Diathim? Here? As Darth Siron she had never personnel found an interest in xenobiology, but there were countless Lords that enjoyed masquerading as scientists. Every now and again she'd have one of them mention several incredibly difficult to acquire species they would like nothing more than to study personally. The bright and winged Diathim were one of them -- their hypnotic ability could be put to good use, after all. From what Zlova did know of them, however, this one seemed more... Human.

The Twi'lek found she'd stopped a short distance away in contemplation. After a quick glance about with her golden eyes, she resumed moving down the street in the direction of the shorter woman.

When she drew near, Zlova actually bent her knees to lower herself and examine the mildly injured knee -- provided the woman didn't run out of abject terror. Fortunately, the former Dark Lord hid her talent with the Force, so there'd be no tempest or rolling sensation of darkness about the Twi'lek. "You should be careful. The streets aren't safe around here," Zlova said softly. "Are you alright?" Knee seemed fine. Not the most sanitary place to get an injury, but it wasn't life threatening from what she could see.

How someone else might take a black, cloaked figure kneeling down before a painfully innocent looking woman, however, Zlova hadn't given a second's thought toward.

 

[Henna Ga'yali]

As she hunched over to look at her knee, Bugsy felt a figure approaching. Being in a new area, she was more than a little wary but paid no mind to it. No one ever really paid her attention so she should be fine. However, when she looked up, Bugsy was surprised to see a silhouette crouching down next her. The being was speaking to her.

This newcomer was intriguing. Though the individual was certainly guarded, Bugsy sensed no danger or animosity from … her? The voice was not delicate or tender by any means but gentle, nonetheless. Was the woman really speaking to Bugsy? What was she saying?

It took Bugsy a moment to process, as this was quite abnormal, especially outside of her home alley. “O-oh! Y-yes, I-I’m fine!” stammered the poor girl. She wasn’t incapable of speaking, just disoriented. “Uhm, w-who are you? Do you live in this alley? I’m sorry, I did not mean to intrude! I just got lost. I got new, uhm, glasses, I think they’re called—and I wasn’t paying attention in all my excitement!” Bugsy was rambling, she did that when she was nervous or excited. Problem was, she was always, at the very least, one or the other and right now she was both. She loved meeting new people; loved hearing their stories and learning how they saw the world!

Zlova Rue Alluria Ivalice Damsy Callat Moe Uilor

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Alluria Ivalice | Damsy Callat | Moe Uilor | Confederacy of Independent Systems (Open)

The Twi'lek lingered even after the woman said she was fine. It would be wiser to part ways before Zlova became involved in affairs that did not concern her. People loved getting you involved in their messes. The dancer had enough problems of her own without needing some local gang or slaver organization getting any stupid ideas.

Maybe it was the lack of contact from her efforts to remain distant from others. Customers at the club were nothing but fleshy automaton that doled out credits. For anyone that knew how to observe such creatures and had a knack for physical feats the credits might as well have been on-demand. Zlova scarcely engaged anyone as people. Rarely risked getting involved -- being hurt in ways that did not heal with time. Perhaps it was because of all that effort, and her resounding success, that the Twi'lek did not run in the face of Henna's questions.

"Rue. And I don't live in this alley," her golden eyes lifted to regard the dreary residence in question. Did the Twi'lek look like she lived on the street? All the credits from her work suggested otherwise. Perhaps it was the other woman's new glasses. "Do you live in an alley?" That wouldn't be surprising. This was Nar Shadda. There were entire communities that lived on the streets, or had clustered together in some large, unused bay. Henna wouldn't be unique in that regard or worthy of any special sentiment.

Yet Zlova lingered.

"Who gave you the new glasses? They look," -- shockingly large on her face, -- "nice." Smooth.

Zlova's teeth clenched for a moment before a silent sigh broke her from the tension that'd claimed her shoulders in thought. "Do you want to go somewhere... and get something to eat?" Taking a street urchin home wasn't high on the list despite the uncharacteristic interest in the woman. No, she did have boundaries. Letting people know where she lived was one of them. Zlova didn't need people haunting her home hoping for handouts or desperate for her to fall in love with them.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Armour: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour
Weaponry: Pride and Freedom, VG-01 Revolvers, Hellfire Assault Rifle
Ship: Scimitar II-Class Star Courier
Location: The Streets of Nar Shaddaa
Tags: Zlova Rue Henna Ga'yali

The star courier shuddered slightly as it made touchdown with the hangar. The landing thrusters disengaging and joining the main thrusters in a dormant state. The ramp's struts hissed as it lowered down, disembarking the ten foot tall pilot. A man clad in pure white armour not unsimilar in design to the knights out of fantasies told to children to put them to sleep at night. Except this knight did not carry a broadsword and shield, it carried two silver crossguard sabers attached to it's waist with two pitch black, double-barrelled revolvers holstered on it's hip. Attached to it's back was an assault rifle with enough kick behind it to put a rancor on it's chin.

The ramp raised itself up as the dominating figure stepped down onto the hangar floor, marching through customs with little more than the flash of a badge. His heavy boots led him through the streets, his red-visored helmet occasionally gazing around, as if it was searching for something. The White Knight carved a path through a crowd then stopped and put his back to a wall, raising his wrist up as a red hologram appeared. Showing a standard min-statue of a rather sickly looking man garbed in a skin-tight suit.

The hologram's features were jagged and hawk-like, teeth like a razor, thin, dead hair slicked back against his skull, hollow cheeks and sharp cheekbones with deep-set eyes and thin lips. The hologram had to be the very icon of a scavenger, for it was visually horrifying to look at with a complete lack of muscular form, only lean flesh. The hologram flickered out as the Lord Marshal's wrist lowered. He was here hunting, but not as a bounty hunter, as a law-enforcer. His target was a rogue Obsidian Knight, though he was hardly deserving of the title, and only gained it through the art of deceit and forgery.

Questions had been asked and he had run, though if he thought the Order of the Knights Obsidian would quit their pursuit at Confederacy Borders, he was sorely mistaken. A few clicks out of CIS space wasn't nearly far enough, not for a slaver who had faked his identity and forged a life for himself, only to spill the steal an Obsidian Squire. The usual backwater trash you'd expect to run to this sort of planet, a bit of digging on Taramaz' part had uncovered the man's true identity and history. Three slave dens, most were in unclaimed space, backwater worlds nobody gave much attention to.

He might have gotten away with it too, if he hadn't gotten cocky and bit off more than he could chew. His kidnapping was poorly performed, leaving no less than six witnesses, and a victim who had already given a full account of the events, confirmed by the witnesses and a body camera.. Now he was trapped on this planet, and a court case had been held while the rogue was still within Confederacy space, held up at a hangar for refuelling. Death was the penalty, though he was to be taken back in for questioning if possible.

The red visor drifted to his right, looking past the crowd and to a crimson-skinned Twi'lek and a younger female with ridiculous glasses. His HUD took a whole second to detect a minor graze on the younger female's knee. He knew he shouldn't get involved in local affairs, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on them from here. If he knew the galaxy's hives of scum and villainy well, then he knew that they were playing a perfect scene for robbers, murderers, and all classes of sinner who'd have no problem gutting them for what little possessions they had, or worse. He was probably the only one on the planet who would help.

 

[Henna Ga'yali]

While never one to be shy, Bugsy did try her best to stay out of the way and attention of others. Experience had taught her that if people wanted you around, they would make the effort to include you or keep you. Even though she had people, shopkeepers most likely, that seemed to keep a watchful eye out for her general well-being, she knew full-well they certainly would not miss her if she were to disappear.

Bugsy wasn’t sure why this lady was concerned or paying any attention to such a funny and out of place creature as herself. She knew she should be wary but her excitement and curiosity got the better of her, yet again.

“Oh! What a lovely name!” Bugsy fought back the urge to ask how Rue got a name; she desperately wanted to have a proper one of her own.

“I, uhm, no, not this alley. I seem to have gotten away from mine. I’m sure in a bit I will find my way back, though! At least I hope so....” she trailed off with the last part of her sentence, the gravity of the situation finally hitting Bugsy.

The woman brought Bugsy’s attention back by asking about the girl’s glasses. Bugsy looked up as a bright light appeared somewhere off to the side with a bit of ruckus. She noticed the robed lady seemed to have red skin; how fascinating!

Just as the noise settled, Bugsy felt, rather than heard, another disturbance. Her stomach was rumbling. When was the last time she ate? Oh how she should have paid more attention! The captivating red-skinned woman was speaking again. Bugsy’s naivety took hold once more. “Uhm, yes please. Now that you mention it, I am rather hungry.”

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Alluria Ivalice | Taramaz Laurs | Confederacy of Independent Systems (Open)

"Right. Well," the Twi'lek managed a rare if small upward curl to her lips. Smiling was not foreign to her; in the sense she led customers on thinking she cared about them as people. This was different. It felt different. Zlova hadn't genuinely smiled since being betrayed by the one she'd trusted most. "I know a place nearby." With that, a red hand lifted and was extended out for Bugsy to take.

Before they set off, however, a group of five drifted in closer to where the two women were standing on the street. One of them even came from the alleyway that Bugsy might think to escape back down. While their clothing was far from reputable nobility, it was made of stout material, clean, and lacked the wear and tear of the downtrodden and destitute of Nar Shadda. Their faces were clean, hair cut and slicked back, with healthy shades to their skin. No customary indications of malnutrition often seen about the eyes or in the elasticity of their flesh. If there were a word for that kind of well-to-do class on the moon it was 'trouble.'

"Hey, Ladies."

Zlova straightened up, but before she could do anything an equally tall, Rodian pulled the Twi'lek away from Bugsy. One arm wrapped around from behind her and across her throat, while the other hand took hold of her wrist.

"What do I find, but two lovely creatures standing about all alone." A cream-skinned, humanoid male seemed to lead the pack, being the most talkative of the group. "As a concerned member of society it is my duty to make sure of your safety." Chin elevated, brown eyes regarded the robed woman and then the slightly less sophisticated one with glasses. Actually, as his gaze turned toward Bugsy his eyebrows drew together for a fraction of a second before he caught himself. "But, first, I should know who you are..."

With a tug, they threw back Zlova's hood to reveal her red skin and black tattooed head and lekku. The human whistled, and a few of his friends chuckled. "Hold on," but the mirth only lasted a second, "I know you... You work at one of our clubs, don't you, girl?" Narrowed eyes resumed their normal size as he glanced back at Bugsy. "Then who's this? Certainly not yours. So you won't mind if we... borrow her?"

Slavers. The muscles in Zlova's jaw worked for a few seconds. As natural a feature on Nar Shadda as air -- and some days you wondered how natural the air really was. She could pick a fight with these goons, but then they would both be Hutt fodder. Of course, she could also let them just take Bugsy, but... that really did not sit well with the Twi'lek. Even Before she had never condoned such a thing. This -- right here -- was why she didn't want to get involved with other people. Zlova didn't want to see them as people. It meant she might need to care, and if she cared she had to act, and if she had to act people were going to end up dead. And right now that probably meant her steady cash flow would dry up in an instant.

The goons hadn't made a move yet. Granted, the dark haired man was leering at Bugsy no doubt thinking how best to sell her given the glasses, but his contemplation was only going to last a matter of seconds. At the end of that time Zlova was going to be forced to make a choice. They were going to try taking Bugsy -- was the former Sith Lord going to let them?

 

[Henna Ga'yali]

Just as the exotic crimson woman extended a hand to Bugsy with the offer of food that wasn’t someone else’s mouldy leftovers, several new figures approached in a less than pleasant manner. One of the five began speaking to Rue, seemingly ignoring the smaller woman still squatting on the ground. Suddenly, Bugsy felt some not so friendly eyes drift towards her as Rue was pulled back. Did they think Rue was going to harm Bugsy? No one had ever cared before. No, that’s not what was happening at all.

Bugsy wasn’t sure if Rue knew these men or not, but what she did know, was that Rue was growing increasingly agitated at the men; and Bugsy liked Rue. Rue, she felt, was her new friend and Bugsy wished there was something she could do to help. As the conversation and atmosphere grew steadily worse, Bugsy became more and more distressed. Oh, oh no, thought young woman. Her head was staring to hurt and that was never good where others were concerned, especially when was upset.

Bugsy didn’t get upset very often, as even-tempered as she was. However, if she became to overwhelmed, her head would begin to hurt and then unexplainable things would often happen. Sometimes she would black out from the pain and hear about it from others after the fact. Once, a lamppost bent and prevented a vehicle from falling on her. Another time, she was being bullied by some other kids and a window shattered, cutting up the faces of her tormentors. She didn’t know if she was responsible for this, all the little ragamuffin knew was someone was looking out for her and was always there to protect her. Tonight was no different, but would she blackout and wake up alone in a foreign alley, again?

All at once, Bugsy clutched her head, there was a scream, and the acute metallic smell of blood. Bugsy was fairly certain the blood wasn’t hers, but she was less certain about the scream.

At a thought, Bugsy paled, was Rue okay? Who did that scream and blood belong to? And with that, Bugsy’s world started to spin and go black.
Here we go, again, was the last thing Bugsy thought before passing out into a crumpled heap at the feet of her would be assailants.


Tags: Zlova Rue Alluria Ivalice Taramaz Laurs

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Armour: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour
Weaponry: Pride and Freedom, VG-01 Revolvers, Hellfire Assault Rifle
Ship: Scimitar II-Class Star Courier
Location: The Streets of Nar Shaddaa
Tags: Zlova Rue Henna Ga'yali

​

As the Lord Marshal began walking towards the two females, who had been assailed by a group of thugs and gangsters, he was halted in his tracks as warnings flashed onto his HUD and his helmet blocked out all sound. A second later sound returned and he was walking again, judging from the state of the scene infront of him and the warnings he had been given...

That little girl had just Force Screamed. Perhaps little girl was a bad descriptive, young lady was more appropriate. His walk turned into a brisk walk that carried him to the scene, he looked to the assailants then to the young lady and the blood-red Twi'lek who had been unfortunate enough to be caught up. He knelt down and reached a hand out, raising the young ladies wrist and checking for her pulse. His head turned, his HUD scanning her body for further injuries such as broken or fractured bones or cuts. Once the scan was complete, he turned his attention to her chest, observing it to make sure she was breathing at a regular rate.

He muttered a curse under his breath, a curse that was fortunately filtered by his voice modulator. He'd just made these two his problem. It was just his luck that the young lady was force sensitive aswell. The KO wasn't like the Jedi and Sith of ancient times that took in force sensitives against their will... but if a Force Scream was so uncontrolled and could cause that much harm to the young one...

He had a responsibility to help her, didn't he? There was a long walk back to his ship, a long walk he didn't feel like making without the girl awake. He turned his vision over to the Twi'Lek, performing a scan on her aswell. Something told him it'd do best not to touch her unless he had a damn good reason, particularly if the girl with glasses was defending her.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Alluria Ivalice | Taramaz Laurs | Confederacy of Independent Systems (Open)

"Hey, hey," the brown haired louse mimed concern, "there's no need to get all worked up." The young woman with the enormous glasses looked like her blood pressure was skyrocketing or something. If she was going to stroke out right there on the street then all of this fuss would be for nothing.

Zlova's lips parted and her brow lowered over her eyes at the sight of Bugsy's growing anxiety. "Release me." The Twi'lek reached up, grabbed the man's arm and tore it away from her neck with a scowl. "Now." Her elbow slammed back into his diaphragm, which sent the man back a step and doubled over. But by then it was already too late.

Her right hand swept up as the Scream scoured the area of conscious or willing life. Fortunately, Zlova was not as Force Insensitive as she might seem to most with her habitual Stealth masking her presence. Even so, the Twi'lek still felt the pressure as it fluctuated and washed over her. Thank the Ancients she managed to shield herself from damage to her ears or being dropped from excruciating pain.

"Are you--" When Zlova straightened up and sought the young woman there on the street, what she found drew an equally distant and studious look as thugs that might seek to change her fortunes. Worse, the new arrival was wearing armor with at least one of two purposes: intimidation and combat. She wondered how extensive the equipment in such a thick armor might be. Specifically, Zlova was concerned such a well equipped person might discover and know what the cylindrical device was hidden within her cloak. Much as she'd been forced into exile to survive, and as far as a life as a Sith Lord seemed, the Twi'lek never relinquished her saber. On Nar Shadda owning a saber, or casting it aside were equally risky propositions; she chose not to join the refuse of the world and would carve her way out of the Pit if need be.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Bright, golden eyes slid down to the limp young woman's body. "I need to get her away from here before armed and trained members of the nearest cesspit appear." Her eyes returned to the man to gauge his reaction. The Twi'lek's fingers slowly flexed ready to draw her saber and lop the man's head off if he was one of those better-trained cretins. It had gone this far. Too late to abandon the defenseless woman now.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Armour: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour
Weaponry: Pride and Freedom, VG-01 Revolvers, Hellfire Assault Rifle
Ship: Scimitar II-Class Star Courier
Location: The Streets of Nar Shaddaa
Tags: Zlova Rue Henna Ga'yali

A facsimile of relief sounded off in Taramaz' mind as his suit confirmed his diagnosis; without going too deep into detail, the young woman was merely unconscious with minor bleeding, nothing permanent that his HUD could detect, it was designed for combat not medicine, afterall. His head turned and lingered on the scarlet Twi'lek, the crimson visor staring back into her golden eyes as he forced his HUD to finish it's generally useless medical scan out of politeness.

His eyes flicked up and down her body, giving a quick look-over while he mentally dismissed his HUD's report. A report that made him wonder if the HUD was designed for idiots, or the generally lacking in all information on the galaxy. It told him that the woman infront of him was, indeed, a twi'lek, and she was, indeed, conscious, along with a small paragraph of shorthand information. He stood up, raising the unconscious form of the untrained girl in one, gentle hand.

His visor stared right back down into her eyes from it's ten foot vantage, ice-grey eyes hidden by the blood-red visor stared intently into the amber orbs.

"I plan to explain that she is force sensitive, and present to her two options; option one, I leave her here on Nar Shaddaa where she will continue to black out like this, or option two, I take her with me to Geonosis where she can either train with the Knights Obsidian and learn how to control her power, or I will give her an apartment and pay for it in advance for one standard galactic year while she gets herself on her feet. Anything further from that is her own choice."

His metallic voice wrung out across the alleyway they were in as he reached into his belt and took out a small syringe containing a blue, liquid stimulant. He then rubbed an antiseptic onto an area around a vein on the unconscious girl's shoulder.

"I tell you this because I get the impression you're a little more than the average dancer. I'm no expert on the anatomy of Twi'leks, but those eyes aren't a natural gold, if you ask me. That aside, I offer you the same opportunities that I offer this lady, except I suppose it might be best if I give you a two bedroom apartment and some starting funds? Say... five hundred credits a month should keep you afloat while you look for work. Of course, you are also free to join the Knights Obsidian, there'd be a few tests and a bit of paperwork you'd have to do, nothing too complex. Now, I think it best if you explain the situation and present our little friend with the options she has."

The calmness in his voice couldn't be mimicked, nor could the matter-of-fact way he spoke, as he put the needle against the vein, hesitating on pushing it in.

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Taramaz Arcturus

Even when Taramaz stood to his full, impressive height the cloaked Twi'lek woman did not so much as lift a foot in response. Her golden gaze fixed on the blood red visor only breaking contact to monitor what he did with the young one's form. Much as Zlova rather not get involved in other peoples' affairs, and easy as it would be to just walk away, there was the tiniest piece buried deep within that needed to stay. If she stayed, then Bugsy would be protected even if Rue had to start slaughtering anyone and everyone around to do it.

There was the chance this man knew the ways of the Sith, and just the sight of her face would be enough to make the connection. More common were ignorant masses simply associating tattoos in general with 'bad company,' however. Regardless, it was a concern that Zlova monitored carefully. This was not the Empire. There were no laws and no expectation of reprisal if someone found an 'Evil Sith Lord' and killed them on sight -- they'd try, anyway.

Taramaz's words did cause Zlova to blink even while his imposing physique and armor had not. He was offering the young one a choice? Here or Geonosis. From what little the Twi'lek knew of this one and her lack of companionship, remaining might be comforting for familiarity's sake but ultimately damning. Join the Confederacy's Knights Obsidian? Zlova knew of them. A diverse bunch that had a variety of different philosophies or training regimes. Some had more respect than others within the Empire -- all coming down to the likelihood of surviving even the first two exchanges in a duel, let alone putting up a 'real fight.' With the Non-Aggression Pact of recent time there hadn't been many opportunities to test their worth outside of rumor and prejudice.

Then Taramaz offered Zlova the same opportunity. Pity for the young one, curiosity for the dancer was it? Only her Force Stealth kept it ambiguous whether the Twi'lek before him was a common if beautiful specimen or something more. "Work... Is not what I do." Dancing was not work. With her body it was an easy way to make credits without doing work. Rue was shameless, but that didn't mean she lacked any self-respect at all. A Sith Lord did not work. They commanded entire armies. They fought on worlds high and low. They experimented on the masses. But not once, not ever, did you find one constructing a building by hauling raw material around, or tirelessly laboring at a meat factory. Some habits and expectations were not so easily cast aside.

"I will accompany you, and I will pass every test you dare perform." Because at this point, leaving the young one in this strange man's arms would be the same as abandoning Bugsy to the streets of Nar Shadda. True, Rue could sense Taramaz was not lying or concealing some insidious intent -- and Rue knew what that felt like, having been around enough Sith in her life. All the same, it seemed the young one had what remained of the Twi'lek's heart. Maybe -- just maybe -- Zlova wasn't prepared to completely give up on her ambitions or place in the galaxy.

"That I shall." She made no effort to stop Taramaz from injecting Bugsy so she would return to consciousness. Though Zlova did spend a second or two contemplating what would follow as a result. Today had certainly been eventful.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Armour: Mark-V Centurion Battlearmour
Weapons: Pride and Freedom, Hellfire Assault Rifle , VG-01 Revolvers
Tags: Henna Ga'yali Zlova Rue

Cold grey eyes chilled even more, the twi'lek's half-fledged response hardly answered any questions and opened more. Silence was louder than words after all, and right now, the silence was deafening. Taramaz' ice-grey eyes glided over the shrouded, strangely fine, form infront of him, searching for a crack in the mask, a way to see her true intentions, what she truly was, or what she was thinking. It was a fruitless endeavour to start on, with her having given so little to him in words.

"Glad you're so willing to help, and for your sake, I hope you're not afraid of needles and blood."

He turned his head away, introductions and exchanging life stories would come later, if ever. He crouched back down, bending his knees to lower his monolithic form down to the human girl's eye level. He looked into her eyes, or rather, what he could see of them through her glasses and eyelids, and kept an eye on them as he briefly turned his focus back onto the syringe, breaking skin and going directly into the vein. He slowly pressed down on the plunger, injecting the medical stimulant into the girl's bloodstream slowly and with the practised hand of a surgeon.

It was little more than a light stimulant to induce consciousness in victims of a minor concussion, fatigue, or inebriation. He retracted the syringe and took the needle off, wiping it and the syringe down with sterile wipes, and placed them in separate pouches. He then looked back at the girl's pupils, checking to see if they dilated. His final touch was a small, circular band-aid that he took from his belt pouch and applied it directly onto dot of blood that marked where the needle had gone in. He then stood up, supporting the human against his body with a light hold on her shoulder.

"I suppose a quick introduction would help, we've got anywhere from two minutes to six, if the stimulant is strong enough. I'm Taramaz Laurs, I'm a Lord Marshal of the Knights Obsidian, the latter part I'd wager you guessed. Came looking for a fugitive, ended up dealing with you two. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He extended his free hand, and offered it to her in a handshake that he severely doubted would be reciprocated. The glove itself was clean, but the kind of clean you get from a veteran's scrubbed armour. Better than the day it was made, but never to have that brand new feel ever again. The smile that seemed to resonate from beneath his mask, despite it being completely hidden, was more like the grin one made when meeting an old friend for the first time in years, the kind of grin that was typically followed by a tight hug, but not this time.

​

 

[Zlova Rue]

Outfit: Just a Shadow
Location: Nar Shadda Streets
Tag: Henna Ga'yali | Taramaz Arcturus

A subtle turn and twist of the Twi'lek's head followed Taramaz's comment about needles and blood. No, she was not afraid of those things. However, just coming out and saying why would defeat the point of holding one's tongue. Zlova still wasn't entirely sure about the man before her. Nor the fact they were on the street.

While that was true, however, it was impossible to ignore that everything that had transpired so far had been in the open. Even if others hadn't seen her face, the thugs had. There would be questions if Zlova remained. Questions followed by a blood bath as she refused to "cooperate" or grew tired of their endless questioning despite knowing almost nothing about what had happened or Taramaz himself.

This was exactly why Zlova knew she shouldn't get involved with others. Something like this was bound to happen. That being true, her golden eyes fell on the limp body in the giant's arms. There was something undeniably and hopelessly innocent about Bugsy. She would have been dead or worse in short order on Nar Shadda. It was a minor miracle she'd survived as long as she had on the ruthless moon -- a feat worthy of remembering.

Tsosûtusasi ridis iw zo ytûpû, nimyi Sith'jari [Ambling words of a shackled, ancient Sith Lord], Zlova cursed to herself in High Sith.

There was a second of hesitation as the Twi'lek was forced to contend with a very important life choice: stay, or go? Seemed she'd already settled on 'go,' and was now simply finding it within herself to live with it. So, despite the mountain of distrust she held against the galaxy, Zlova reached out to take Taramaz's hand. Take it, grip it, and then draw herself in close to him. Not as close as she would have liked with Bugsy still in one of the man's arms, but enough. Zlova's other hand had slid back along her side poised to draw one of her sabers if Taramaz suddenly began displaying poor decision making. Having been betrayed once, trust was the last thing that came easily.

"Lord Marshal of the Knights Obsidian," the Twi'lek echoed as an old lover might, "you can call me Zlova. Zlova Rue." The lower lids of her eyes lifted slightly as she gazed up at the tall figure's face. No doubt a charmer with his helmet off. Someone a woman could have a little fun with in the evenings. That, however, was not this evening. "I'll accept your word," or she would kill him and take his ship anyway if he crossed her, "and save your Knights the trouble. I know you are wondering. You have the eyes and the patience of a warrior." Certainly the armor, if nothing else. "Darth Siron was my name." The right corner of her lips curled upward with a surprising satisfaction in saying her own name once more. Like pulling out your favorite cloak after being forced to stow it for a better season. "If you insist, I could bore you with the story." Since anyone could claim to be a Sith or a Darth -- words were cheap -- the Twi'lek consciously lifted the Suppression for him to get a sense of her presence in the Force, if Taramaz wished. She would once again conceal her presence shortly afterward.

Zlova tipped her head down slightly to regard Bugsy once more. "If you take us from this place, I will make sure you are compensated." Wouldn't even matter if Taramaz asked or secretly desired repayment for service rendered or for the trouble. One way of another it seemed she would be among the Confederacy; undoubtedly they could use a woman of her skill in some capacity. If they could not then they were truly hopeless.

 

[Henna Ga'yali]

After a time Bugsy felt the presence of arms around her and voices above her. Who was holding her and why? Normally people just left her alone when she blacked out. They were too scared to touch her. But someone was very obviously holding her up. Suddenly, Bugsy felt a slight prick in her right shoulder area and felt a warm sensation as something oozed into her veins. She wanted to freak out but couldn't move.
She waited for wait seemed like ages but was probably mere minutes. She tried to open her eyes but could only achieved in minutely fluttering her eyelids in vain.
She could make out Rue's voice. What was she saying? Rue was conversing with another man. The one holding Bugsy. Was everything okay? Was her new friend okay? What were the two discussing? And why couldn't she open her eyes??
Bugsy grunted with the effort of trying to sit up, but to.no avail. Since trying to move or even see was futile, Bugsy just listened. They were going somewhere? Where? She had never left Nar Shadda before. If Rue trusted this newcomer, then so would Bugsy! Nevermind the fact that Bugsy had only just met Rue not ten minutes ago.
After a moment more of listening, the young winged girl determined that she hadn't harmed her new friend and that all was well. Bugsy trusted Rue beyond of a shadow of a doubt. Why? She couldn't place her finger on that, Bugsy simply new she was safe, safer than she'd ever been before. She may not be blacked out anymore, but goodness she was tired. And with that, the young girl relaxed like a wet noodle, took a deep breath, and fell asleep.


Tags: Taramaz Arcturus Zlova Rue