Food Shortages

[Arbit Elre]

Nar Shaddaa, known as one of the most crime-ridden planets in the galaxy. A vibrant ecumenopolis, the bright lights and blinding colors typically drew people in, leading them to bars, cantinas, and strip clubs. But for all the advertisements lining the walls designed to draw in those ready to blow their credits on pointless pleasures, the bustle of the planet-wide city did nothing but push Arbit away.

However, he was there for a job, so for the time being, he was willing to put up with it. The Iktotchi stepped off his personal ship with a low growl, the stench of the city slapping him instantly. He hated big cities. They were noisy, typically full of fools wasting their money, and all-around unpleasant for one who preferred peace and quiet. He began making his way to the club he was meant to meet his contact at, knowing exactly where to go due to his innate precognitive abilities.

As he strolled through the streets and narrow alleys, he made sure to keep an eye out for any aggressive body language, not wanting to kill anybody right now. When he finally stood outside the nightclub his possible employer had specified, he marveled at it for a moment before stepping inside. As he did, he mumbled under his breath. "Damned rich folk and their need to be seen." After chuckling to himself he added, "At least they're willin' tuh pay more." The horned man made his way through the club, around drunken party-goers and dancers, until reaching the back of the large room. He strolled back to the agreed upon room, knocking sharply to make sure his contact was there. He wouldn't want to interrupt something, after all.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Ah, Nar Shaddaa! The sweet scent of opportunity hung in the very air of the Smuggler's Moon. Everywhere the eye traveled one could find a new avenue of income. Drugs were sold on every third corner. Why not every second? Slaves. Killers. Addicts. Nearly everything about this wondrous cesspit could be milked for credits if one knew what they were doing. And the Crimson Lady most assuredly did.

Zenva's had landed in a private hanger, disembarked from her personal Gunship with a small group of escorts. From there she and her entourage, entered a luxury hovercraft, and traveled to her nightclub. Hhawa Kouiehh, or Club Vicious, was a sprawling four floor establishment. Every one of them hosted a bar, a dance floor, and the finest intoxicating substances one could hope to purchase. Every floor was also bathed in the horrendous glow of Neon Lights.

The moment she stepped out of her private car, her elegant gown whipping around her muscular legs, Zenva Vrotoa was no more. Her fierce yellow-red eyes, sharp features, and fearsome black tribal markings were swallowed whole as her new tattoo came to life in the club's garish glow. The Blood Matron had returned to her hunting grounds.

In short order the Zabrak had made her way to a private room. As she and her group entered they were greeted, rather enthusiastically, by nearly a dozen more Zabrak; men and women of varying ages. Each one was dressed in some form of business wear. Almost immediately the Matron's Butler Droid turned to a small Elzeri that had been accompanying the Zabrak. "The Matron desires you to start your dance routine." So far it was the only words Luna had heard that weren't spoken in Zabraki.

Zenva settled into a chair, one of many facing a central dancer's table. She folded one long leg atop the other at the knee, and gestured almost lazily toward the table. The only warning Luna would receive that she was to begin quickly. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be long before her entertainment would be interrupted.

When that interruption came, a matched pair of IG Series Assassin Droids flanking the room's only door turned in unison to answer it. One Droid dryly asked for the man's name, and with a few nearly musical words in the Blood Matron's naturally harsh language, the Droids stepped aside to allow the man entrance. One of the Droid pointed to the only remaining available chair which sat opposite Zenva herself. "You will sit." The Droid ordered. "Do not attempt anything foolish, Iktotchi." The Assassin warned before returning to it's post by the door, directly behind the Matron's new guest.

[member="Luna 1028"]
[member="Arbit Elre"]

 

[Luna 1028]

Post 1
Luna 1028
Theme: Go Bang - PNAU
[member="Zenva Vrotoa"] [member="Arbit Elre"]

And dance she did.

Luna let the billowy tunic she had been wearing to cover herself as she walked through the streets with her Matron fall to the floor in a heap of white fabric, to reveal her curvaceous figure which she had clad in a dance leotard. Her tiny feet were clad in a pair of transparent heels, which raised her meagre stature by six inches. However, even with the boost to her height provided by the tall and elegant shoes, the short Elzeri still could not clear five feet tall.

After taking a deep breath, Luna stepped onto the makeshift stage (which was actually a tiny circular table) and launched into her routine. Although the music playing in the room was soft and discreet in volume, Luna danced to it like she would any other song. Her long and pointed ears granted her razor sharp hearing that allowed her to pick up subtle nuances in the rhythm, further amplifying her skills as a dancer.

The routine that Luna decided to danced was slow and sultry in tone. However, the diminutive Elzeri gyrated and twirled her broad hips with the graceful yet potent flow of a waterfall. In timing with the rhythm of the music, she initiated a more athletic and fast move where she executed a handstand for a brief moment, before returning back to her feet. It was a wonder that the table did not topple over from the constant shifting of her weight. In short, Luna’s balance was impeccable even as she performed more athletic and daring maneuvers when the music transitioned in an uptempo rhythm.

After executing a particularly audacious, yet enticing move where she raised her left leg all the way up to her shoulder and performed a pirouette, Luna could not help but to let a wide grin form across her pale-pink features at her accomplishment.

The little slave was having fun.

 

[Arbit Elre]

Arbit entered at the assassin droid's beckon, looking around the room, as if searching for something. After a moment, and after the droid had finished its instructions, the large Iktotchi strode casually to the empty chair. He looked with a slight smirk to the two before him: a Zabrak and the small Elzeri dancer. "Curious," he thought to himself. "Don't see Elzeri around much." He sat down with a slight sigh, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm guessin' you're the Matron Zenva?" He spoke to the Zabrak across the table, his grin broadening a bit. His gruff voice sounded almost too old for his looks. It was deep and harsh, but had an underlying kindness to it. "I never did like big cities too much, 'specially not planet-sized ones. Price of profit though, eh?" He laughed lightly, his sharp teeth forming an intimidating but somehow warm smile. The horned man showed no hint of nervousness despite the assassin droids not ten steps away. As he sat smiling, he shifted to fix his long coat so it sat comfortably.

His pale tan eyes stared into Zenva. They were the eyes of a soldier. Sharp, observant, the eyes of a killer. His sharp, burn-covered horns showed evidence of much combat, and obvious close calls. Arbit was either extremely lucky or skilled... or both. His clothes had some make-shift patch jobs, and the leather of his jacket looked aged, possibly a hand-me-down, seeing as he couldn't be older than late 20s.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
[member="Luna 1028"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Theme

The dozen, unfamiliar to Luna, Zabrak continued to talk as the Elzeri took the stage. Zenva alone was silent. Conversion, animated by intense gestures and the occasional bout of laughter, continued well into the Dancer's routine. That is until a new horned alien entered the room. The Zabrak all fell silent. Nearly in unison a dozen predators turned to track every movement the newcomer made. All but Zenva, who's attention remained wholly on her entertainment.

When the man finely fell silent, an exasperated sigh escaped the Blood Matron. "Luna." She said in a cold tone, the music of her natural voice absent entirely. "I'm afraid you'll have to start over in a moment. Fetch me a whiskey on the rocks. Thank you." The woman's hand flicked toward a wet bar along the side wall. The Matron then turned in her chair to retrieve a cigarette case and it's matching lighter.

Lighting one, and inhaling deeply, her bizarre glowing face turned at last to the man opposite her. "This is the problem with youth, isn't it. They don't know when to stop and enjoy the moment." Grey smoke oozed lazily from her mouth as she spoke. Her serrated shark like teeth gleaming vividly in the club's blacklight. A few of the Zabrak around her nodded quietly in agreement. One, the largest male in the room, smiled openly at the Lady's remark.

"Yes, I'm am Zenva Vrotoa. You'll be so kind as to address me as Matron, or Lady Vrotoa. Am I understood? You see Mister Elre, the job I offer could make you a very rich man." The Zabrak paused to take another hit from her cigarette. As she exhaled, she patted her thighs to garner her returning slave's attention.

"Sit Pretty." She said softly as she pointed at a rather luxurious looking pillow seat at the side of her stiletto heel. Her hand came out somewhat, fully expecting a drink to be placed in it, and soon. "Now, I'm to understand that you are a somewhat talented pilot, correct? Because our target has a proper blockade that we will have to find a way of dealing with. Our benefactor plans to smuggle a strike team in via stealth transport. Is that something you can be trusted with? Or am I mistaken." The last question was certainly not asked.

[Member="Luna 1028"]
[member="Arbit Elre"]

 

[Luna 1028]

Post 2
Luna 1028

“Yes, Matron.”

In a single graceful motion, the tiny Elzeri executed a handstand and contorted her slender torso down towards the floor at the side of the table until her heeled shoes hit the ground. Then, she raised her both of her arms above her head as a finishing motion before walking to the wet bar with a swaying feminine stride. She selected a particularly large ice cube from the freezer so as to slow down the process of the ice itself diluting the whiskey before placing the ice within a glass cup and pouring the drink within.

The distinct clicking of Luna’s heels on the ground as she walked to the Matron served as indication of her presence. She gave the red lady her drink, and moved to her left side to sit down on the pillow seat next to her mistress.

Her big and luminescent green eyes stared deeply into the rugged features of the Iktotchi mercenary as she leaned into her Matron’s modest bosm and ran a slender manicured hand across the matron’s exposed left calf. She took extra care not to scrape her mistress with tips of her long nails, as she listened intently to the conversation taking place...

 

[Arbit Elre]

Arbit looked around at the other Zabraki, his smile remaining his entire glance around the room. As his gaze returned back to Zenva, he chuckled lightly at the obvious jab. The Iktotchi scratched the back of his neck for a moment, speaking in a dismissive tone. "Can't blame a guy fer wantin' some jink while he's still young 'nough to enjoy the thrill of a difficult job." He leaned back in his chair, relaxing a bit as the Matron spoke, a smirk glued to his face.

The alien waited patiently as the woman before him spoke, trying his best to be polite in the unfamiliar setting. When finally she finished, his sharp teeth broke through his lips, his usual vicious smile. "I'd have tuh say 'somewhat' ain't really fittin' to my skill level, Ma'am." The Iktotchi chuckles a bit before correcting himself, the slightest hint of sarcasm in his tone. "Pard'n, Matron. I've run blockades before, usually during smuggling runs I picked up during certain higher payin' jobs. Those were with my ship. Not exactly built fer stealth, but a hell-of-a speed demon." The man took a deep breath, looking to the others in the room, but remaining at the same tone directed to Zenva. "I can fly just about any type of small to medium craft yeh need, if'n ya gimme a little time tuh get used to it's feel. I'll get yer group on the ground, help finish the mission, and get outa there without the blockade bein' none the wiser." The man rubs his finger lightly against the table before him, taking a moment to think. "You've come to the right guy, though I'm not sure I'm too happy about becoming so well-known. It's harder to go unnoticed."

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, but with a louder tone so the whole room could hear clearly. "An' what's with invitin' someone to chat business and not offerin' them a drink?" He smiled mischievously to the Zabrak across the table.

[member="Luna 1028"]
[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

The Matron took a long sip of her drink before setting it on the round table before her. Her now empty hand settled on her slave's neck. "Ah. My apologizes, Mister Elre. F-Three, be so kind as to fetch my guest a whiskey on the rocks. Thank you." A Butler Droid stepped forward to bow, before quickly bringing the horned Iktotchi a drink.

"Unfortunately, I don't have the ship for you to practice with. In two weeks, or so, I'll be picking up our Benefactor. He'll have the ship with him. Perhaps you can copilot for him, and learn from the man that built it. Acceptable?" The Matron paused to take a pull from her cigarette. "Of course, you'd be most welcome to earn credits every step of our mission."

She exhaled a clowd of smoke, her expression unreadable through the glowing death head. "In fact I have a number of ways for you to earn credits, Mister Elre. I understand you are quite the marksman as well. Correct? I wonder if you might teach my Luna here about the proper handling of small arms. If she were interested, of course."

[member="Luna 1028"]
[member="Arbit Elre"]

 

[Arbit Elre]

Arbit grinned brightly as the droid brought his drink. He grabbed it and took a quick sip, letting out a sigh before placing it on the table between him and the Zabrak. He then leaned back in his chair, once again relaxed, to listen to his contact. He clicked his tongue lightly when she said he couldn't practice with it beforehand, but it didn't bother him too much. Once he was behind the stick he would get a feel for it pretty quick. "I s'pose co-pilot is better than nothing to learn about it."

The thought of more credits forced another grin to his lips, and only widened as Zenva spoke about his marksmanship. This woman had no clue of Arbit's level of skill, and teaching it to others was nothing. But Arbit didn't want her to know that and take off from his paycheck for lack of a challenge. Instead, he spoke calmly, grabbing his drink and taking a few more sips in between sentences. "Assumin' she's competent, I could teach her tuh put a blaster bolt through the pupil of a womp rat from 50 yards off. If yeh want me tuh teach her, I'll be glad to. If'n the pay is right fer my certain expertise, what with me bein' a profesional and all." He said the last part with a hint of sarcasm, but clearly not anything other than confident in his abilities. Arbit knew he was skilled, more so than most, and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. It occasionally got him into trouble, but that made it all the more fun for him.

He finished off his drink with a sigh, mumbling a bit under his breath. "That's some good booze." He placed the empty glass on the table, then looked back to the Matron, waiting for her response.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]
[member="Luna 1028"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

A young Zabrak immediately to the Matron's left, barely out of childhood compared to the other's of her kind in the circle, began to speak abruptly. She, like the Crimson Lady, had an unnervingly musical voice that was utterly at odds with the harsh, predatory nature of their native tongue. She spoke at length until Zenva raised a hand to silence her. "Enough." The Matron said coolly.

Zenva took another drag of her cigarette before she continued to speak with her guest. "I don't desire to be misunderstood, Mister Elre. I want you to teach her the basics. I haven't the time, nor patience, to teach a girl who's never held a blaster in her life how to reload." Even as she spoke, smoke streaming from her death head's glowing grin, she continued to caress the Elzeri in her lap.

"If I'm quite impressed with your ability to teach her the basics, I have hundreds of men in my employment that could benefit from more advanced lessons. If you're willing to teach them, and I'm convinced it's worthwhile of course." Again the Matron paused to take a drag of her cigarette. "What do you think, Mister Elre? Is that something you are interested in? I assure you, I will pay you quite well for your time."

[member="Arbit Elre"]

 

[Arbit Elre]

Arbit chuckles to himself as he shifts around in his chair to be more comfortable. "Y'all seem like a good lot, relatively speaking, so assumin' ye've got the coin fer it, I'd be glad to train whoever you want however much yeh want." He pulls out a small blade and begins twirling it through his fingers absentmindedly. "If'n that's all yeh need, I'd say we got a deal. I werk tuh help pilot your fancy ship through a blockade to finish up that mission, I git paid. I train yer little servant girl there to shoot a blaster, I get paid. I train your other soldiers to hit movin' targets from further than a few meters, I get paid. I like the way this is soundin', Matron. There is certainly a lot of money to be had with this arrangement, so I'd be more'n happy to sign up."

Without missing a beat in the pattern he was flipping the blade in, he tossed he blade up and leans forward a bit, his hand extended to seal the deal. Without looking, the blade landed in his off hand, which he moved to rest in his lap, clearly showing off but not at all ashamed of it. His rough features showed confidence and enthusiasm as his thoughts raced about the opportunities for money. He smiled at the Zabrak woman, waiting for her response.

[member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Zenva smiled faintly as her eyes tracked the man's spinning blade. When he stabbed it into her table though, even through the glow of her tattoo, her scowl was plain to see. She stood abruptly, pushing her dancer aside. A moment later the gathered Zabrak rose with their Matron. Zenva shook the man's hand in a steely, vice like grip. "I'm glad we could find an agreeable understanding, Mister Elre. Be so kind as to leave the weapons at the door of my establishments in the future."

She turned to flow back into her seat with all the lazy predatory grace of a well feed serpent. Her long legs folded one atop the other at the knee. "I have a combat exercise coming up shortly. I hope you'll see fit to join me. One of my IGs there can give you the location, and time before you leave." She patted her thigh absently to get her Dancer's attention. "You may start over Luna. Unless Mister Elre has anything more to say?"

[member="Luna 1028"]
[member="Arbit Elre"]