Private Even Broken Chains Can Bind

[Lliara Daeva]

Galactic Coordinates: Somewhere between Gaulus and Naos III
Location: Asteroid Station Epsilon

Lliara had passed them off as mercenaries that'd come in search of a job. Reasonable cover and a few credits kept the dock master from asking too many questions. You just had to know how the galaxy worked. That and not be unlucky enough to end up in the sights of someone that dispensed with conducting normal business, and opted more for the organized criminal syndicate activities. It was always a pain when someone paid off your dock master before you did. Worse was that ultra rare gem of a principled and dutiful worker.

Not that their arrival was without incident. The station wasn't full of Law Abiding Citizens. Market stalls everywhere with peddlers eager for credits. Most weren't hawking lawfully obtained merchandise; some were even happy to provide the most unsavory of products. They didn't concern her, though she wagered Lanx wasn't taken with the place. Hopefully he didn't peer over the heads of crowds jammed into a shop where people were being traded. That, however, hadn't been the issue -- not the only one, anyway.

A rogue that preyed upon the monsters of the station figured Lliara for a mark. Another time that might have been cute. Not today. Before their fingers even drew close to her belt they froze wide-eyed at their own hand. The masked Mirialan didn't skip a step and continued down the street as if nothing had happened. No need to watch as the sentient brushed at their hand and then began frantically brushing along the front of their body. Rapid pulse, heightened blood pressure, perspiration, contorted facial expression... It all ended only moments later. The swarm that'd suddenly begun to envelop them. A mere illusion -- a 'trick' some dared call it -- stabbed into the mind of the would-be-thief by their intended victim.

Response? To slink back into the shadows to wherever they felt 'safest,' Lliara imagined. People didn't come down from abject terror and then chase after the cause. All that adrenaline and no where to go. Most needed somewhere to calm down and try and salvage what remained of their self-confidence and assurance that the world hadn't been flipped on its head -- somehow, someway, it'd been the Woman in Black's fault. Magic, perhaps.

The ignorance of The Force among the common folk was painful for someone like Lliara. Painful, but useful. It was the Wizard's First Rule for a reason.

Had Lanx noticed? Time would tell. Lliara thought she'd been kind not to deal with them directly. Just a little illusion to make them reevaluate their life choices. Allowed the two of them to find local lodging. Somewhere to serve as their base until it came time to leave. You didn't want people constantly watching your ship all the time, after all. Only so much help to waste on reconnaissance.

Lliara and the lodging manager got along famously, unlike the thief.

"A room. Two beds."

"Fifty credits a night."

"Thirty and we won't ask for complimentary food." Who wanted a place like this to decide on what 'edible' constituted anyway?

They stared at one another for a moment. "Thirty five." Key card dropped, credits exchanged. Simple business transaction between adults.

Lliara led the way to the room they'd been assigned. She opened the door and held it open for Lanx to enter. One part nice, another part studious of the man's countenance. How had he taken their arrival? What might be on his mind? His disposition was important because they were treading dark water, and now they'd thrown personal matters into the mess as well. Dangerous business that.

Tag: Lanx Velishin

 

[Lanx Velishin]

Too many people.

Too many scum.

Too many slavers.

This place…this place was a nightmare for the Cathar. Everything he hated about the galaxy rolled up into one, tightly packed, ball. So many people that could hurt them at the drop of a dime, strip them clean of anything valuable, and everyone else around them would do nothing but watch. It was exactly the kind of place he knew he might end up at eventually, once their asteroid was completely stripped of all it’s minerals. Resold in a place like this, more than likely to just another labor camp that saw him as little more than a piece of meat. And by a little more, it was truly very little more.

Everything about this place was disgusting to him, but the sight of the slave stalls, with what looked to be some sort of show on Twilek’s going on, to say his blood began to boil would be utterly undercutting it. A sharp glare from his partner was one of the only things that kept him on track beside her. The only other thing that glued him to her side? The thought of being captured, put on the block himself again. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, have that happen. Better to get in, do the job that they had come here to do, and leave as soon as they could. Maybe then he could take a long refresher bath and get the stink of the cowards that held the leashes in this place off of him.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have given him so much joy to see one of the creatures that called this place their home try their luck with his partner. The cathar didn’t even move to try and stand in the way. He knew fully well what was going to happen, as he just continued to walk, smirking internally as the body of the man fell to the ground without a single sound. He had been expecting it, so much so that he didn’t even look back as the crowd continued to gather, just pulling his hood tighter to his head. The murmurs of the crazed people around them brought a flick of the ear to those pointed ears poking out of his hood…and a slightly larger smirk to his face.

Death to those that claimed to own others.

By the time they arrived to the hostel that would become their home for however long they decided to stay on this rock, his smirk was gone, replaced with a gaze as he watched their corners around them while Lliara did all the talking. It for the best. She knew how to twist words that he would only fall over, and while he wasn’t exactly the most capable lookout, a combination of better eyesight than most and hearing that was definitely on another level allowed him to standout slightly.

Nothing came of it though, and the pair were quickly ushered to their room for the evening. Lanx found his way quickly over to one of the pair of bed, dropping the large dufflebag he had been carrying over his shoulder the whole way here. His time on that asteroid allowed him to get decently strong, at least. Unzipping it, he began to categorize the contents, speaking over his shoulder to his partner as he did so. “That complimentary breakfast would’ve been poisoned at worst, drugged at best. Hoping that we’d eat it, only to slap some shackles on us and sell us at that block down the street. One of the my closer friends, back on the asteroid, that’s how they got him. Unlucky bastard……but also a dumb one.” Sighing, that painful memory dragging itself from the deepest depths of a place he wished to bury forever, Lanx stopped, allowing it to pass.

“So,” He started, trying to shake himself of the feeling, starting his unpacking yet again, this time pulling out a case containing what he assumed to be Lliara’s medical equipment. “We know the cultists have a place here, either that, or it’s being used as a middleman. How do we figure out more?”

| Lliara Daeva |​

 

[Lliara Daeva]

After Lanx passed by, the Mirialan turned her mask out into the common area to make sure no one was paying them too much attention. The black garbed figure stepped inside and let the door shut before it was locked in place. So far they'd manage to relocate to somewhere inconspicuous and centrally located without picking up a tail. A good start. Even with the mild nuisances en route.

Gloved fingers drew a device from Lliara's belt as she began to move through the room. As Lanx spoke she slowly waved the device to check for any monitoring devices. Just because their target didn't know they were there didn't mean some syndicate wouldn't compromise them just as easily. Fortunately, the sweep came back clean. Buying surveillance gear was likely far too expensive for this place. Must not be a front for blackmail material either. All good things.

When the Cathar paused to compose himself, Lliara returned the scanner to her belt and turned to look back at him. The mask split apart and slid aside to reveal the light, green skin of the Mirialan within. Bright, golden rings regarded Lanx as he turned the topic to less personal matters.

"Best way is to identify all the major players here to understand which of them would know of the cultists' movements -- or be infiltrated by them. Learn what motivates them. Ply it to our advantage to convince them to offer the information freely. Violence is not the only way. Often isn't even the best way." She wondered if that statement would shock the Cathar? Perhaps he'd already be too stunned by the ideal of lingering here for any length of time to notice. "Alternatively, slicing into the station's records to learn which hanger that ship left from would give us a thread to pull. Faster, but riskier."

Lliara slowly crossed back toward the front to peek through the shuttered window. "You know these types of people, Lanx. What they're capable of." She turned to look back at the man. "I need you to keep an eye on them. Look for anything out of the ordinary." Because who was to say the cultists were content with potentially contaminated drinks? If Lliara were one of them, she'd infest the slaves. People beneath notice, but sometimes ushered into lavish estates -- it would give you the opportunity to pivot to a far more valuable piece on the board. "I didn't know they'd try drugging the food to enslave us," Lliara confessed, "I just didn't couldn't stand the thought of eating their slop." Though poisoning was never out of the question -- that drug-and-sell might be 'common' practice hadn't been at the top of her list. Lanx did know these people far more intimately than herself.

Tag: Lanx Velishin

 

[Lanx Velishin]

As Lliara continued to speak, Lanx focused on putting the rest of the bag’s content’s on the bed and it’s table. Plenty of vials containing liquids that he almost certainly didn’t want to know the content’s of. The Mirialian was impressive with her alchemy, that was for sure. That didn’t mean that Lanx needed one of these vials, possibly containing some sort of corrosive liquid, spilling all over his sheets late at night and eating through them. Or accidently inhaling the fumes off of another one and cracking his head falling to the floor. Neither of those seemed like very fun ways to spend their time here on this backwater place in the galaxy.

Turning to look at the woman with a slight smirk, a breath worked it’s way through his body as it visibly relaxed. He had honestly not realized just how tight his body had gotten over the memories of his fellow workers until Lliara joked over the food…whether she meant to or not. “I can promise you, that the food would’ve been some the worst you’ve had in your lifetime. Probably tainted with the grease of pans that haven’t been washed since this asteroid was part of some moon.” More breaths followed, a more relaxed cathar starting to sigh lightly as he moved to look out the window onto the tiny, crowded street right outside the inn. The neon lights just outside reflected greens and reds off his face.

“We’ve already drawn too much attention to try and slice into the hanger records at this point.” He spoke, lightly, eyes glancing down the street. Wincing lightly, he turned to look back toward his partner, waving off any reproach that would be coming. “It’s not anything you or I could’ve differently, just so know. It’s the…aesthetics. A mercenary looking individual and an alien…rarely seen off a leash. It’s going to draw eyes no matter what you do, unfortunately.” Moving away from the window, Lanx forced his lips to try and smile as he stood near his partner. Those cat like eyes darted lightly to the side, unable to really make eye contact with her, feeling as though his very presence would put the mission at risk.

He was tensing up again, his shoulders pulling inward and fists clenching. Lanx refused to be a detriment to the mission…especially with how important it was. Maybe, just maybe, he could still be help. “Look..finding who runs this place wouldn’t be easy either. However…we did pass a club on our way here. It looked to be hopping pretty good too, though,” His gaze moved to meet Lliara’s, finally, and that forced smile softened into one a bit more genuine. “It doesn’t really seem like there’s much to do on this waste of space anyway.”

 

[Lliara Daeva]

A soft grunt of agreement followed Lanx's statement about it being the 'worst' she ever had. The smirk fell and the Mirialan's eye twitched at what Lanx described immediately afterward, however. Surely it wasn't that bad. Now that the thought had been planted, however, Lliara found herself questioning whether they could find some reputable and sealed field rations just in case.

The two of them practically changed places as Lliara visually inspected the equipment and idly caressed a few vials as Lanx spoke from the window. A golden ring shifted to the side to regard the Cathar where the neon glow struck his fur. It wasn't her way to be concerned with the plights of others. Usually they were beneath notice or she made a conscious effort to disregard whatever bothered them. It was easier to manipulate the masses when their suffering didn't register. Such a luxury wasn't afforded the Mirialan when it came to Lanx, however. A temporary partnership had taken a sudden long-term nature as they were only able to trust one another for the time being. So, Lliara was making an effort to try and see him for who he was rather than what he was (which for most creatures in the galaxy was merely a means to an end).

Lanx sought to placate or assuage any reaction to a statement he'd just made. Lliara hadn't been about to comment, however. Instead the Mirialan's gaze turned forward over the equipment once more and away from him. When he approached, she straightened up and turned her head to look over at him.

The Cathar was new to being an agent. That had been obvious the first time they'd met, and in how he held himself ever since. Even now, in this secluded room with just the two of them, Lliara could tell the man was unsure of himself. Worse, they were in a den of scum of the kind Lanx had personal history with. Any other rookie might already be beside their self wanting to free the slaves and change the galaxy over night. Naivity that could be managed even if it might get such an idealist killed. Lanx's unconscious or barely constrained desire for revenge or the simple desire to lash out was less easily controlled. It wasn't logical. Prone to outbursts. An enemy could exploit it. That was a Sith's specialty -- they were capable in the art even if they thought of themselves too highly in that regard.

Slowly Lliara laid a hand top Lanx's shoulder as she smiled over at him. "And do you think they'd respond better to a Mirialan or a 'Merc' at this club? Someone of authority might require our services, and from there we make us increasingly indispensable. Until them, we drink."

There was probably a lot to do on the asteroid. Just very little of it would agree with the Cathar. That was not an impediment to the mission -- yet -- as this club could make itself useful to them. That was Lliara's hope anyway.

"Perhaps we could talk and learn more about one another. Foster trust seeing how our life is in the other's hands." Lliara smiled again hoping that despite the nature of the conversation, Lanx wouldn't feel too put upon by it. Just a simple fact of their circumstances. Might do well for them to understand each other so when something...questionable arouse they wouldn't suspect the other of anything sordid. Not aimed at their partner, anyway.

Tag: Lanx Velishin

 

[Lanx Velishin]

For someone that could come off as cold, calculated, and confrontational, there was something about Lliara’s gloved hand that felt just so…warm. Even if the question wasn’t exactly something that was meant to be comforting, or even really acknowledged the feelings that he had just tried to articulate, it was plain to him that she cared. At least, she cared in a way that he could understand. With a soft smile, his opposite hand slowly reached up to place itself on top of Lliara’s, gently pressing it downward.

“I appreciate you.” It was an unprompted remark, one that might’ve seemed to come out of nowhere, yet the subtle pressure from the cathar’s furred hand on top of the other agent’s gloved one just reinforced them. She had kept him around, and still believed in him, it seemed. Despite his hold ups, despite his past, she wanted him around. And for that, he would forever be in her debt.

Keeping his hand on hers, he actually began to regard the question that had been posed to him with a thoughtful look. “It’s a complicated placement of yourself, right now. At the moment, a mercenary pairing would probably be the best, as it automatically puts you ahead of…others. Even if I might not….look the part, I can still play as though I am your ‘help’.” It was obvious what the alien meant by the emphasis on the final word, yet not actually saying it seemed to help him through it. Even if his smile faltered lightly, he was still very much in the moment with the Mirialian. “As for getting to know each other….I would love that. We haven’t ever really gotten to talk to much, have we now?”

His smile widened, perhaps the biggest it had been since they had arrived on this kark forsaken rock. It was time for them to get to know each other just a bit more…even if they had to do it in the company of their enemies.

| Lliara Daeva |​

 

[Lliara Daeva]

A soft laugh behind closed lips followed. "Not that complicated, really. Anyone that takes my plain-clothes self any lighter is a fool, and soon parted from whatever I desire. Torture, after all, is not the most effective means of persuasion." All those chemicals and tools she carried about weren't just to make someone suffer -- though some certainly managed that. "Your point, however, is well taken." Some did respond better to someone in uniform. Such attire spoke of credits if not authority capable of backing up whatever threats or deals were made.

As to the other matter... "If you feel that part is best, we can use it." It was not without danger though. Hopefully they would not be put into a situation where Lliara would be forced to rebuke her 'help' in public. Such things could surface seemingly from nowhere for any sort of perceive slight. Well, she'd do her best to turn it on the instigator instead.

"Talk? No, we haven't. Since Ryloth our focus has been on ensuring our survival and finding a means of tracking these creatures down on our own. I think that can wait a few minutes as we talk about other things." There might be a countdown to the end of galactic civilization, but Lliara doubted it was measured in minutes, or even hours at this point.

The mask sealed once more as the Mirialan gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

While the enemy could be all around them on the station, any attempt by them to approach the pair only played to the agents' benefit. Nonetheless, Lliara wasn't terribly concerned. If the entire station had already fallen they wouldn't have made it out of the hanger without being accosted. With that happy thought, the pair would saunter down the 'street' to find a happening business venture were traders, merchants, and slavers relaxed and strengthened business relations, celebrated deals forged, or lamented their loses.

It wouldn't taken long to find a few stools for them to occupy and scare up some attention for a drink.

"So," Lliara turned to look over at Lanx, "outside of hunting bounties," the cultists, "what is a Cathar enjoys doing? Hopefully something that isn't work related."

Tag: Lanx Velishin

 

[Lanx Velishin]

There were times that Lanx wished the mask could just…stay off of his partner. She had such striking, gorgeous features, ones that could cut through vibrosteel if allowed. Yet despite how sharp they may be, he still found it more comforting to know who he was working side by side with, not just a faceless mask. But that was the nature of their business, unfortunately. Faceless, moving through the shadows, sticking to the darkness so that the normal civilian wouldn’t ever have to stick their hand into the darkness that surrounded them.

A thankless job for a society that would more than likely never care. It was striking just how painfully parallel the galaxy could be to a tiny slave mine on an asteroid no one could care for.

It seemed as though the galaxy might never let him forget the scars that bound him. Still, the feeling of having the agent by his side as they proceeded back down that busy street was enough to bring him a small amount of peace for that time. Despite her exterior, there was a certain warmness that couldn’t be denied by the Cathar. He enjoyed his time around Lliara, even if that time more often than not ended up having them get shot at.

That wasn’t the plan for now, however, and the pair entered into what looked to be some sort of mix between a bar and small food stop. Even people that had decided to land in a hole in the galaxy needed to eat sometimes. Finding a spot to sit at was actually not the easiest task, either, as it appeared the pair of spies had inadvertently picked one of the most hopping spots on this entire rock. A booth to the side of the establishment provided a good spot, however, and the pair quickly slid into the spot ready to enjoy themselves for a few minutes.

Before they dove into the drinks and what looked to be some delicious different types of noodle bowls, there was the conversation to break through first, and with a pair like this that had worked so long yet knew so little about each other, it figured to at least be a bit awkward. Or perhaps that was just Lanx’s lack of social skills. He took a moment to ponder over what his partner had asked, nodding lightly to himself as he thought on the inquiry. “I’m learning to find more hobbies that I do enjoy, ones that I can enjoy while we’re out and about throughout the galaxy. Tinkering with droid parts, learning to shoot somewhat strait, and…cooking.” Licking his lips, he looked over toward the center section of the place, watching the cook do his thing for a moment before continuing with a soft smile peaking at his lips.

“But if there was one thing I could enjoy..even while I was a slave, it was flying. Despite the fact that they would always have to have a guard in the cockpit with me the entire journey, there’s just something…freeing about it. Freedom being the clique thing to crave, I suppose.” He flicked his hand in the air, as if passing off the thought as childish, or not worth his time. “But it’s true. There wasn’t a moment I didn’t enjoy the feeling of a ship within my paws. It probably kept me from having to do too much dangerous labor too, as they kept me near the top of the mines. Probably didn’t want to harm such a ‘valuable’ piece of property.”

A little shrug, this time seemingly passing off the thought yet again in an attempt to focus back on his friend. He flashed her a little smile, attempting to reassure her that he was still there and present. “And what about yourself? What do you enjoy doing while not…hunting down your targets?”

 

[Lliara Daeva]

The helmet fluidly turned to the side to follow Lanx's gaze. Slowly the pain turned to face one another after the moment of salivation or reflection had passed. Seemed her Cathar was getting excited for a bowl of noodles. Maybe he was just famished and would take anything at this point, but never hurt to verify his tastes later.

Clique? Lliara found most people never valued what they had until they'd lost it, or never had it to begin with. Freedom was rife throughout the galaxy. In part there was -- in a sense -- too much freedom and not enough people having suffered to understand its importance. How easily people seemed to forget the wars burning among the stars in favor of closing the drapes and pretending the latest holonet entertainment was all they needed. It was such an quiet thing to die in spirit.

"I have many... hobbies." The Mirialan lifted her right hand from the table to conjure an empty glass from a nearby table. Nested between her gloved fingers, Lliara turned it over and set it atop the table between them. Slowly waving her hand over the top of the makeshift sealed chamber, she chanted in an arcane tongue for just a second. Soon a mixture of reds blues, and purples began to appear within the overturned glass. Impossible currents swept the hues about the chamber forming subtle patterns one melting into the next.

Lliara leaned in over the table a table as she lowered her voice, "I'll be honest with you, Lanx. One of my pursuits is agelessness. Eternal youth. You can imagine the countless experiments -- so many trials -- and all manner of components I've used in my study. Some materials are quite expensive, which requires a source of income. I'll admit I didn't expect to become involved in something of the nature that you and I have as it'll take quite a bit of time away from my research, but I'll make do." A soft laugh danced between her lips. "Time, despite what it seems, is on my side."

As she settled back, the red line of her visor canted a bit to one side. "Most would think it a blessing, but there are times when it would be more of a curse. You bear it well, but it haunts you. Your thoughts betray you when confronted with the subject even of your own choosing. If you had all the power in the universe -- if you could literally do anything except undo time -- what would it be?"

Tag: Lanx Velishin