Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private From Ship to Ship

Iron Chains.

The sound of chilled metal rings links knocking against each other were comparable to the bells of Life Day ringing in a child's ear. So when Zachariah tightened the chains around the young Rodian dock-worker's throat, he took a special kind of pleasure from the way they sounded as they robbed the man of his consciousness, and soon after, his life. Zachariah stood behind the boy, watching his slide down the length of the large man's legs. His own thin, scrawny legs kicked erratically, attempting to find some purchase so he could alleviate his crushed wind pipe. Success in a thing like that? A dream. Zachariah's words were deep and cold, yet somehow they came off as thoughtful. "Sleep...Disappear." He whispered before giving one final, violent yank of the chains to completely snap the Rodian's neck. The sound caused Zachariah to throw his head back, exhaling in a mixture of pleasure from robbing a man of his life and relief from the exertion of locking his muscles against the dancing body.

The body fell first, sliding down onto the ground and immediately falling limp. Next, the sound of the black chains falling on the ground in a serpent like coil were the only sounds that could be heard.

Zach ran his hands across each other, letting the blood flow back into his palms as he smirked softly at his handiwork. "Not too bad for my first kill since I've been out." He said as he brought his large dark brown boot onto the Rodian's cheek, pressing down prodingly. "Still just a kid though, barely a kill worth havin'." He said.

Yonduran Space Port was perfect. It was a small space dock on the planet of Ketaris, not far from the Sith Imperial Territory but it hadn't yet fallen under their control. A few days. Zachariah and Faegard Faegard could lay low there for a few days before they had to move on to their next destination. Escaping Imperial Wardens wasn't an easy task. Their hunters were masters of tracking down their prey. Still, they had a damn good lead on the imps, so it should give them some breathing room for a while. They'd landed in Yonduran Space Port specifically because it was a smaller port on the far side of Ketaris. All of the docking bays were privately owned by small businesses like the one the poor Rodian belonged to.

He was just a Dockbay worker, so as long as the authorities believed the dock was vacant then no one would come looking for him, probably not for weeks depending on when his last check in was. The massive bay would also hold a new ship if they could find one. They'd ditched their last one in the past system, trading it for a handful of credits to a junker who lifted them to Ketaris as part of the deal. "Come here, little rabbit." He commanded the small girl who was with him. His arm reached out, taking hold of her waist and pulling her into his side with a smirk. "Welcome home, honey. This will be out humble abode until we make our next move." He told her, before turning and exhaling audibly. "We gotta get some supplies together. We could go stealin' about the docks but that would attract way too much attention to us. So we'll go into the city. I hear there are some swoop gangs, so nobody would bat an eye if some houses got broken into or some supply trucks got stolen." He said to the woman with a low rumble in the back of his throat.


Faegard Faegard
 

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YONDURAN SPACEPORT
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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
"Sleep... disappear"

Hopefully, with his focus heavily upon his poor victim, Zachariah paid little mind to what I was doing. As usual, I stood a little way off, slightly behind the man. There was no way I would get between him and his chosen victim, I'd spent enough time around him to understand why Zachariah had been under such heavy guard back at the prison. However, standing idly by while he slaughtered innocent people didn't sit well on my conscience.

So while Black gripped his chains, I let all the air flow out of my lungs in a subtle sigh, relaxing my shoulders and reliqnuishing my tether to this world for a moment. Focusing on the struggling Rodean, I pursed my lips. Within a few moments, I began to feel the terrible pain, the panic and terror of being robbed of breath. It took all my willpower not to cry out in pain and fear, but I kept myself silent. It wasn't much, but I felt responsible for bringing Black here, so in a way, every death of his was on my hands. The least I could do is make their last moments easier, quieter, more peaceful than they otherwise would be.

Finally, the Rodean was gone, and I gritted my teeth and shook off the terrible sensation before Black turned to me, commanding me to come to him. Despite it all, I approached, nuzzling into his side. I'm not especially cuddly - particularly with murderous criminals - but feeling a person die left my own soul troubled and vulnerable. I needed the physical comfort, the reassurance, and as much as it made my stomach churn, the murderer's arm around me helped me to feel better, more myself again.

"Swoop gangs?" I echoed, tilting my head to look up at him.

As the days went on, it became more and more apparent that Black and I had come from very different worlds.

"How long do you think we'll be here? I need to find a terminal so I can find out what happened to the Phantasm. By the spirits I miss having a datapad."

 
While Faegard spoke, Zachariah bent down to press his hands against the pockets of the dockworker he'd just killed. When she asked about the swoop gangs, the man spoke as he pulled a few credit chits from the dead Rodian's pockets. "Yea, swoop gangs. They usually keep some blasters and credits handy in stashes at their little hangouts. We find out and maybe we can even get a good, unmarked ship to steal. We don't find a ship that no one will miss and your Phantasm won't mean shit, because two seconds in Hyperspace and the Sith are back on our tails." Zachariah pulled a spice syringe from the man's pocket and snorted. "Fuckin' user." He tucked the syringe into his own pockets before looking to Faegard. "Let's get outta here." He said, dangling a security cylinder in his hands.

Zachariah took Faegard by the wrist, pulling her along with him until she was in step, then his hand curled around her neck possessively as they made their way to the bay's main door. "I know one thing, we need to find somethin' to eat. I'm fuckin' starving." He muttered, before sliding the security cylinder in the slot, causing the door to open and the lights in the bay to deactivate. He glanced back at the dead Rodian and snorted before shaking his head. "Man that's gonna stink when we get back." He led Faegard out of the hangar and they found themselves in the main hall for the Spaceport.

They quickly found themselves staring at a large grouping of stairs and Zachariah chuckled a bit before turning his eyes to Faegard. The city before them was just as he'd thought. Large enough to accommodate a space port but small enough so their shouldn't be any problem with them moving around. Most of the buildings were poor and shoddy, more large masses of metal than actual permacrete structures. In fact, the only building that seemed to be worth anything one a single permacrete tower built into the side of the spaceport. Zachariah turned his eyes to the large obelisk shaped building and gazed up at it for a bit curiously. He decided they'd figure out what it was later, for now he needed food and clothes.

The first place they stumbled upon was a large shop, which seemed to deal in just about everything from junk to artwork. Nothing was worth a damn, however it had enough to entice Black inside. He looked around the place and nodded a bit before slapping Faegard on the backside and pointing out a rack of clothing in the distance. "Go find somethin' new to wear. Make sure to show off the goods a bit for me." He smirked at her before turning to a rack that held a number of coats and jeans. While Zachariah moved through the racks, a Weequay merchant at the counter was polishing a small blaster, causing the man to arch a brow before he started looking around. "Hey, you guys sell blasters?" The older Weequay shook his head before snorting. "Not since the Red Rancors took over out here. Nobody has any blasters anymore, even this thing is just an antique, won't even fire." He said, tapping the blaster on the counter.

Zachariah pinched the bridge of his nose before chuckling that same unamused dry chuckle he usually used when he was pissed off. "Figures."

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
Black explained the swoop gangs, idly explaining them with nonchalance, as though there was not a dead body right there on the floor... that he'd just made.

I thought I'd be - if not used to it by now - at least no longer so shaken by it. After all, our escape from prison had left a trail of bodies, one I'd had to undress after the fact. But no, I still found my stomach churning and my breaths shallow and my heart fluttering.

Let's get outta here

Couldn't agree more. I nodded as he grabbed me by the wrist and offered no resistance as I was whisked out of there. It was a strange dichotomy I seemed to have with him. On the one hand, he was a dangerous and violent criminal, about as far removed as one could be from the type of person I wanted to be around. He terrified me. But... on the other, he had literally helped me escape from prison. In addition to that, whether he knew it or not, the possessive way he took charge and shepherded me away from the carnage... it was comforting, something I'd never reveal to him.

"How can you be hungry?" I asked, as he led me away, "I might never eat again."

Before long we found ourselves in a decrepit little shop in this forgettable little city. Caught up in looking around, I squeaked and jumped as Black slapped my rear, blushing and dropping my head immediately. He directed me to a rack of clothes, instructing me to find something to "show off the goods". At least, while the men were talking about gangs and weapons, I could lose myself in this for a little while. I wasn't particularly concerned with fashion, but it was good puzzle to put my mind to; something that would satisfy Zachriah, but wasn't too revealing, also... it had to be black.

Eventually I found something that seemed to fit the bill; tight waist, slit up the right thigh, big hood I could disappear into, and low-cut front. Slinking into the change room there, I pulled it on, shyly making my way back out to the front to get Black's verdict.

"What's the plan after this?" The question was more to get his attention than actually devise a plan for what came next. I glanced from Black to the weequay, "is there anywhere around here I could get a datapad?"

 
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While Faegard slipped out into a changing room, Zachariah found something fitting enough. The coat he'd pulled on was a coal-grey trench coat made of a thin, but warm material. The fur collar was something the man found amusing, making him look a bit more sophisticated. His hands rolled over the hats on a rack, moving from one to another until he found a wide brimmed hat that he pulled over his brown-black hair. He started to whistle a bit while making his way up to the front counter.

For a few minutes before Faegard showed up he spoke to the Rodian, mainly getting info on the city they'd landed in. Apparently the city's authorities weren't any better than the gangs that fought for the streets. Some of the peace officers on the planet were decent, but this city only had a small group charged with keeping order in the space port. So as long as you kept your hell in the streets, you were safe and sound. Zachariah looked to the man before tapping a hand on the counter. "Few packs of Cigarras?" The man nodded, pulling out three metal containers and setting them down on the counter.

Zachariah showed an unnaturally friendly smile to the Weequay who never seemed phased by the man's unnaturally off putting demeanor. When Faegard approahced the counter, Zachariah let out a low whistle at her choice of clothes, or rather the choice she'd made from his directions. "Good girl." He said in a low tone before arching a brow at Faegard's question. "You just look cute an' let me worry about the plan." He assured her, before the Weequay cleared his throat to interrupt them.

"That will be about seventy-five credits for the clothes and thirty credits for the cigarras." The man said abruptly, causing Zachariah to chuckle a bit. "Seventy-five? I was thinkin' somethin' a bit more informal. Take an IOU? I'll get you back before the week's out."

This caused the alien humanoid's face to contort in agitation. "You crazy? I don't take credit on that much stuff, besides you're not even a regular." While the man spoke, Zachariah pulled a cigarra from the pack and slipped it into his lips. He used the edge of the metal container to light the cigarra before blowing a thin line of smoke into the air above them.

"Pay or leave." The Weequay demanded. "Yea, yea..." Zachariah said, digging into his pocket for a moment. "Let me see...I got...here I got about seventy credits, will that do?" He said, tossing the credit chits on the table. The Weequay grumbled placing his hands on the credits, however Zachariah's hands lashed out, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and pulling him over the counter. Zachariah's hat flew off as his forehead slammed into the man's nose, causing a sickening crunch to echo out. The man started screaming, azure blood flowing from his nose freely as Zachariah pushed him back over the counter.

Zachariah turned to look at Faegard with a casual shrug before gesturing to a datapad resting behind the counter. "Happy birthday. Take the freak's datapad." He told her, before taking the cloth from the counter and wiping the blue blood from his brow. Zachariah took the credits from the counter and tucked them into his pocket before looking to Faegard and gesturing to the hat that had fallen on the floor. "Grab my hat too, let's go." He ordered.

He led the way out of the shop, his hands sinking into his pocket. When Faegard did catch up to him, he was lighting another cigarra, since his own had been smashed against the old man's broken nose. They walked down the center of the street while Zach's eyes seemed peeled on the comings and goings that were occuring around them. Maybe to some it seemed that Zachariah was impulsive, but that wasn't the case at all. Most actions he put into play had some pay off, at least in his mind, if not in practice. He knew that shopkeeper was like all the rest on this world, so he was probably paying a gang for protection and when that gang found out Zachariah had roughed him up and stole his merchandise?

Then they would come for him. The thought made him smirk as he looked to Faegard and glanced at the datapad she held. "
There are two kinds of people on a world like this. The one's who eat and the one's who are eaten. Told ya I'm hungry didn't I?" He chuckled out before pulling the cigarra from his lips for a spare moment. As Zachariah walked down the street, he could see some of the smaller gangs in action. Some were roughing up shopkeepers, others were selling women and men on the corners for a profit. Still, they were all small time and probably had four to five members max. "Maybe this is a good place to start my crew back up..." He thought aloud.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
There was a part of me that knew that I wouldn't like how Zachariah planned to pay for these items.

To my own disdain, I blushed at his comment on my outfit. I valued his approval, because it meant I was less likely to see his wrath. At least, that's what I told myself about why I cared so much what a man like Black thought of me. Clasping my hands together in front of me, I kept my head low and stood out of the way as he and the weequay discussed credits. However, much as I fought to ignore it, my heart began to race and a heavy knot settled low in my gut. Black was up to something. I could feel it in his signature. He was being more or less amicable, surprisingly relenting about the cost of the ite--

Crunch!

I yelped as suddenly he slammed his head into the weequay's, knocking the poor shopkeep out cold as he stepped back to wipe the blood that had splattered onto him. He gestured towards a datapad, telling me to take it, as well as instructing me to collect his hat. The man continued out of the store, but for a few moments, I remained frozen; my heart in my throat and my stomach churning.

Finally, I snapped myself back from the haze to reality. Swiftly I swooped down and collected Black's hat, dusting it off. Glancing behind me, I frowned. I had no credits on me, or anything, really, that I could leave for the weequay. So instead, I just cringed and hurried after my companion.

Trotting to catch up to Black, I held out the hat, pretending to study it until he took it off my hands. As he spoke, I glanced back up to him. I wanted to ask him why he still had me around, why he hadn't just slain me like he had the rodean or the guards in the prison. He'd certainly had ample opportunity, and I was hardly the same type of person as him. However, I wasn't yet willing to let him reconsider the decision, so instead I merely nodded.

Black gestured towards a few thugs that were ahead of us. Immediately, I cringed. They all felt so lost; hungry, violent souls that yearned for something and shrieked in anguish. It felt uncomfortable and unnerving.

"From here? Some backwater nothing city?" I replied, "I... thought you'd prefer something of a higher calibre."

A part of me was legitimate in the assertion; Black was far too clever to run with such a motley crew. But a much larger part of me was simply afraid for him to have anyone else around that might encourage him to rethink letting me live.
 
While moving down the street, Zachariah glanced over to Faegard when she asked about the people from this planet. He actually seemed to consider her words for a moment before showing off an amused smirk. He took his hat from her hands and placed it back over his head while answering the young woman's question.

"Thing about it is, this is where I find my army." He said, pausing and spreading his arms out to gesture to the downtrodden and forgotten who plagued this city.


"You see, not everyone gets it. How many truly talented criminals are there in the galaxy?" He asked her, turning towards the woman and sinking a hand into his pocket once again. "Hundreds of thousands, probably even millions." His hand came up, wrapping around Faegard's chin in a possessive manner as he leveled his crimson eyes down upon the woman. "They're good...but they don't have this." He said, his off hand gesturing towards a group of gangs scrapping in a nearby alley. They were not so much fighting as they were destroying each other. The way they fought? The way they slammed into each other without a care for their own health. To a man like Zachariah it was one of the most attractive things he could find.

"You're lookin' at my subjects." He said with an amused tone. "See, I'm somethin' like a King to people like this? These guys lives don't mean shit unless they can find some way to earn, some way to matter in this big fucked up galaxy. So how do they do that? Guys like me. The guys who the rest of the galaxy wants to pretend doesn't exist." His thumb brushed against Faegard's cheek before he turned away from the girl, beckoning for her to follow him down the next alley.

"The way I see it is only way you'll do anything to get to the top, is if you're already in the mud." He told Faegard, before pulling the cigarra from his lips and tossing it down onto the ground below him. "Ok, hand me your datapad. Hopefully I can find some nearby cantina or some info on the gangs this planet has." He said, holding a hand out to the girl.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
Zachairah Black regarded my question as he took his hat and placed it back on his head.

That... took me by surprise. Right now, I was little more than a mouse caught in the jaws of a nexu... yet, he still took the time to consider what I said; as though it mattered. Even my own fathers seldom offered such a courtesy. Maybe that was why I still wasn't plotting my escape plan from him. Whether it was his intention or not, that made me curious about his answer, listening intently as he explained tthe value of an army like the one ahead of us.

Black turned, suddenly taking my chin in his hand. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips, a hot rush of adrenaline spiking at the unexpected touch. I gazed up at him, trapped in those volatile, crimson eyes as he spoke. His thumb brushed my cheek, sending a wave of trembling shivers down my spine. When he pulled away and dipped into an alley, I found my mind spinning as it fought to keep up with the rush of adrenaline before I hurried after him. To my surprise, I actually found myself - if not outright agreeing with him - then understanding why he had made this decision.

However, his next words made my blood run cold.

I froze, jaw clenched, eyes on the ground as the breeze blew back my hood off my head. For a moment or two I said nothing. Shuffling my feet, I stared at the ground, biting my lip.

"I... don't have it." I confessed, "That poor weequay did nothing to us. I just couldn't take it, especially after we didn't leave him any credits..."

I trailed off, blushing as my hands instinctively moved to start nervously tugging on the ends of my hair. I dare not raise my eyes to see his reaction to what I'd said. He might have been the one who eats, but I'd just confessed to being the one who'd be eaten in his world.
 
"Sweet girl."

His voice was like venom being poured into a wine flute. Zachariah's hands came down on Faegard's shoulders as he flashed her that smile. It was a sickening smile that usually came with some manner of hell.

That was when his fist slammed into Faegard's gut. The strike was hard and forceful, yet it was only intended to knock the wind out of the girl. As Faegard reeled over Black's hands fell to his hips and he let out an agitated sigh. He craned his neck to the side until an audible pop occured. "You don't seem to get it." He said, exhaling once again before reaching down. His hands curled a mass of Faegard's beautiful black hair and jerked, pulling her back to her feet as he held her practically suspended over the ground. "It's never a question or a request. Just a command." He huffed, agitated before glancing back down the alley. "Ok."

He turned back to Faegard, this time he pursed his lips at her, spitting out at her face just before throwing the girl back down onto the ground. "I'm a fair man. I'll cut you some slack this time, because you're still in your growin' phase."

This time Black took hold of Faegard's wrist and turned back down into the road they'd just traveled down. He didn't say anything, instead he just pulled Faegard along with him as they made their way back towards the shop they'd just been in.

The walk was even paced, though a bit faster than when they'd left. Zachariah had a certain look on his face. It was somewhat blank, yet at the edge of his lips there was the slightest of curls to hint he had something planned in that mind of his. It wasn't long before the shop came into sight

When they entered this time, there were a few people who seemed to be looting the shop, taking advantage of the man who'd been passed out on the floor. Everyone seemed to run out while Zachariah pushed Faegard, throwing her into a rack as he made his way through the shop and back to the counter. "So here's your options." He said, jumping over the counter and glancing down at the Weequay who was still laying down onto the ground, passed out.

"Kill him." Zachariah commanded, settling into the chair behind the counter. Zach glanced at a knife on the counter and he took it, tossing it at Faegard's feet before kicking the chair back, so that he slid back to the wall, bringing his hands up behind his head while he leaned on the wall.

"You kill him or I will. Then I'll probably kill you too." Zachariah said, turning his eyes to the woman coldly. "You see, Faegard. This isn't a game or something you just get to hang around for. You're on my team now and that means I need to know you can follow orders. Life's easier that way."

"Don't think about it too much." He said, making a motion as if slicing his own throat. "Just remember one thing. You belong to me now and your a tool I'll use just like any other...now get to it."

"
And remember this the next time you want to be nice and fuck with my plans." He said coldly.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
Sweet girl

The words, the calm, the quiet of Black's demeanour was like the crouch of a lion, moments before striking. I could feel it; the power and violence coursing through him, as though it fed him, even as he spoke so sweetly to me, sweet enough to draw a blush to my cheeks. His hand landed upon my shoulder and that Judas smile appeared on his handsome features for only a moment as my heart hammered wildly in my chest.

"I'm sorry--"

Those were the only words I could manage before suddenly he delivered a swift, powerful strike to my gut. Instantly, my breath was snatched from my lungs and the strength from my muscles as my knees buckled under me and I doubled over with a groan. Sharp pain lanced through me, my entire body throbbing in agony as my shoulders trembled and I fought to drag in a breath. As I crouched before him, hands wrapped around my stomach, fighting to recover, I felt his powerful hand close on my hair, pulling me back to my feet.

"Ow! Please! Please I'm sorry!" I winced, one hand leaving my stomach to grasp fruitlessly at his hand in my hair.

But my pleas were ignored as he marched us back the way we had come. My cheeks burned bright red, a hot flush of humiliation taking over my face as he dragged me back like I were some disobedient child. Every breath was an effort as my stomach ached and my lungs burned. By the time I could breathe normally again, we were back at the shop, and Black released me with a shove. I caught myself in the rack of clothing, squeezing my eyes shut as I recalled how I'd been so excited to please him with my outfit, barely minutes prior.

Dragging myself back to my feet, I turned to watch him as he spoke, settling down in a chair behind the counter. Slowly, I made my way up to where he sat, where the weequay still lay on the ground.

Those words cut deep into my soul. I'm no Jedi, I never have been. I didn't care for the paragons of light... but never did I ever see myself taking a life. Magick was volatile and fickle, and those who sullied their souls with murder were forever tainted by that. It gave them power, for sure. But that was power I'd never wanted to have. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, my bottom lip quivering as my brow furrowed.

Shaky fingers grasped the knife as I sat on my knees next to the unconscious man. My gaze lifted pleadingly to Black as I held the knife and a tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted to beg him not to make me do this, to fall at his feet and weep and beg for anything else. But... I sensed something in the room with us. He was a determined man, and of all the things I sensed from him; deception was not one of them. When he'd said that he would kill me, I knew he meant it. So not only was the weequay's fate in my own hands... mine was, too.

"Forgive me."

I placed one hand upon the weequay's chest, feeling to make sure he was unconscious and couldn't feel anything. Then before I could lose my nerve, I plunged the knife swiftly between his ribs, ending him as quickly and mercifully as I could. My entire body shuddered, but for all the churning in my aching stomach, I thankfully didn't puke in front of Black.

Pulling the knife out, it and my hands now covered in blue blood, I placed it on the counter, picking up the datapad and handing it over to Black. I felt as though my soul had split in two. There was my old half; the side of me still terrified of Black, still anxious to appease him and... meek. But now there was a half that no longer cared, one that looked the man in the eyes whether it would kill me or not. The two halves seemed to writhe in conflict for a moment, making me feel sick until I leaned over the counter, dropping my head into my hands as my hair tumbled about my face, hiding it from the criminal beside me. I could feel the still-warm, wet blood smeared on my skin as I covered my face but I didn't care.

I was marked now, might as well show it.
 
I'm Sorry.

Words spoken like a currency that no longer counted in the galaxy Faegard had been introduced to.


Zachariah watched closely as the knife pierced flesh and slid through the man's chest, slicing into his heart and immediately draining him of his life. It was bizarre. Black almost felt as if the moment Faegard pierced the man with that knife, that he could feel it. His hand came up to his chest absentmindedly. He ran a hand over his bare chest, chuckling softly to himself as the chill went up his spine. It was like a drug, watching the young girl take a life against her most base instinct. His lips curled into a sick smile as he stood from his chair and made his way over to Faegard.

He leaned down, pulling the knife from the counter eyeing the weapon. He looked at the thick blue blood that coated the weapon and sneered at the sight before tossing it back behind him.

That was when his arms came around Faegard, pulling her from the counter and looking down at her. His hands came down, batting her own hands from her face so he could properly see the blood she'd wiped across that sweet little face. He stared down at her for so long that it felt as if his eyes may actually split her in half. His gaze was harsh and unyielding, yet soon his hand came to her chin and he spoke in a soft, approving tone.

"Good girl." He said, before pressing his lips to hers in a sensual, meaningful kiss. He kissed her for a few seconds before pulling back from her and smiling down at her. His kiss was equal parts of forceful and soft in such an odd way that it reflected his personality so perfectly. Everything around him, even her, was under his control and it gave him a feeling of supreme comfort that allowed the man to saunter around like a god among men. When he finally released Faegard from his grip it was to take her hand, not her wrist, and guide her out of the store. Just before they were about to leave, he held the datapad out to her with an almost taunting smirk. "Don't forget your gift this time, sweetheart." He said, his tone cold and warning.

With fresh murder committed and his mind racing from the exhilaration, he led Faegard back down the street with a hand brushing against his chin. "Yea, I've decided we're gonna take control of the gangs here." He said, looking to Faegard with that same sick smile. "All of 'em. I fuckin' want it all." His arm curled around her neck and he whispered into the girl's ear. "You made me very proud back there, Princess. Anything you want? We can go and pick it up. My treat." He said with a smile on his face as he held the girl close to him.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
For a few divine moments, I had silence.

Reality wasn't... anything, anymore. I was floating in this strange space where I hadn't just stolen someone's life, where there was no blood on my hands or my face. Existence had at some point drifted away and I didn't have to be real for a little while. But all that was suddenly shattered as a pair of big powerful arms collected me, yanking me back down to reality. There was a sound, like a yelp or a plea... which I realised had come from me.

But Black didn't care. He stared into my eyes, that intense, crimson gaze boring into me like it was burning a hole right to my core. He dragged me down from the nothing and back to the shop that smelled like dust and blood. I felt... real again. With a little gasp, I found myself gazing back up at him, trapped or protected or both in that entangling web he called a gaze.

What I didn't expect was for him to lean in and take my lips in a kiss. His touch was forceful, possessive, controlling, as much a decree of his power over me as the punch to my gut had been earlier. Yet, this kiss had a softness to it, a tenderness, as if he were comforting me. I was so confused, so lost and bewildered, that comfort and tenderness cut right through whatever remained of my defences. I melted into the kiss, yielding to him with a soft sigh. In that moment, it didn't matter what he'd made me do or how I got there; I was afraid and desperate, and he was there.

He pulled away and took my hand, leaving me with a flood of relief, and sadness. The next breath I drew into my lungs felt as heavy as lead. Clutching the datapad in my other hand, I followed after him, my hand held in his, almost as though I were an equal... almost. My head was low as he spoke, proclaiming that he would rebuild his crew here, settling in as though he were glad to be finally home.

What he said next stirred a surprising reaction within me. I felt... deep shame. What I did should not have made anyone proud, and the fact that it did, made my stomach churn, as if some great dark beast were stirring inside me. But... at the same time, I felt a warm blush to my cheeks, a sense of relief, even pleasure. He was a powerful and terrifying man, and to have his approval felt... good, as much as I wished not to admit it.

"Thank you, Black." I murmured, swallowing to regain my composure. "I... I want my ship back. The Phantasm. I have no idea what happened to it when the Sith..."

I trailed off with a sigh,

"Not that it matters. She's custom-built, I'd be flagged as soon as I jumped into hyperspace."

A sigh escaped my lips and whatever brief sense of hope I'd clung to slithered away. My ship was my sanctuary. Right now, the idea of not getting her back was just... too much.
 
Later that Night
The day had been a massive ass bore. Luckily Black and Faegard had found a small apartment in the shitty little town they'd ended up in. It hadn't been vacant, in fact Black had to throw the bodies in a scrap heap almost a mile away. Still, the power was on and the water was clean enough. So what had they spent the evening doing? Black had been locked in an Imperial prison for months with nothing to satisfy him but thoughts of what all he'd do when he broke out. So the moment he had time alone with Faegard he took out every single thought on her. It was near midnight when he finally rolled off of the little rabbit. His body was expectedly sore, yet he hadn't felt better in months.

The lights were off. He liked the darkness as his eyes allowed him to pierce the shadows as if it were the very light of day he was gazing upon. He glanced back at Faegard but didn't otherwise say anything, instead he just offered her a harsh smirk before grabbing his coat and pulling it over his naked form. His body was a mass of scarring, especially his back which had a number of the hellish marks upon it. The Space Bandit walked over to a counter, pulling a cigarra from a container and slipping it in between his lips. He lit it against the side of the container before taking a deep inhale, letting the smoke fill his lungs before he slowly expelled it into the air above.

"Nights like this..." He started, speaking out in such a way that Faegard would not know if his words were intended for her or just simple musing...still they demanded her attention all the same. "...Reminds me of Utapau." He said simply. "We took a contract a few years back. Some Governor on Utapau wasn't payin' taxes to the Alliance. So they wanted to contract my guys as uh....tax collectors, I guess you could call us."

"
Just get the money." He said, in such a way that it was quoted. "That's what the client said. So we made it happen." The man chuckled, leaning back against the wall to the point where he was swallowed by shadows, some moonlight dancing over him from a nearby window. "So we met with the Governor and his council...asked all sweet like. Real easy, I think it was about two million credits total he owed, plus our collection fee." The man exhaled another cloud of smoke into the room, his lips curling into a smirk. "He told me to fuck off."

"
So I did." He chuckled. "Fucked right off to the medical center. We set off two thermal detonators. Nothin' big, just a shock show. That's when my guys snuck into their primary schools. You see the only reason we wanted to meet the council were to get the names we needed. So from there we nabbed about....seven kids. All of them close relatives to the main council. Some sons, daughters, couple of cousins." Again, black chuckled dryly. "Told them if they didn't pay up, I'd shove the next thermal detonator down one of those brats throats. This time he wised up. Paid in full, four million credits. By that time i'd doubled my collection fee for my trouble." The man couldn't help but turn his eyes out towards the window, the crimson gaze piercing through the darkness. "That night I got the payment...felt just like this one." Black turned back to the girl, his eyes falling over her slender form and chuckling once more as he approached her. He walked over to the side of the bed, grabbing the back of Faegard's neck forcefully and jerking her to her feet. His eyes gazed down at her, his cigarra set in the edge of his lips while he looked to the girl carefully. He took the cigarra from his lips, exhaling a small fog of the thick smoke into her face before leaning down, whispering to the girl. "Let's go." He told her, throwing her back onto the bed.

Black was many things. Many horrible things, however the one thing he never was, was a man who went against his gut. His gut told him now was his time to make his move. The man grabbed his pants, pulling them on just before grabbing the clothes he'd ripped off of Faegard earlier that day, throwing them at the girl's feet. "Hurry up." He said, before tucking his blaster pistol into his waistband. The man pulled his cap over his head with a wry smirk coming to his face. He grabbed a small case that he'd retrieved from the ship before curling his arm around the woman's neck, pulling her in close to him. "Sweet girl...you're gonna be a big help today." He told her. He led the girl out of the apartment with that smirk still on his face. As they descended into the street, Zachariah showed his hand. The apartment had been selected for a reason and it was quite obvious now. It was placed over a cantina, one that the local swoop gang was
utilizing.

As he and Faegard stepped into the cool night air, his keen eyes gazed over at a welcome sight. "That would be Aryyy'yook." He said, gesturing to a drunken wookie who was roaring outside of the cantina. "Ary there is one of the leaders of a local swoop gang. His gang aint much of shit, but he's got some good kids from what I hear. They're just afraid of him because he's a wookie. But he's an easy enough kill for us." He said, before pulling the box out and setting it on top of a crate beside them. "You see, he hates men, but he likes sexy little things like you from what I hear. If i go near him he'll have his guard up and drunk as he is he'd take a lot for me to take him down...but you." He opened the case to reveal two spherical weapons that appeared to be thermal detonators.

"You'll do perfectly." The man held the device out to Faegard. "I want you to take this for me." He said, pressing a hand to the girl's cheek, almost tenderly, yet he pointedly grabbed her face to keep her eyes locked on his. "And blow up with him....we throw them and he'll notice, get time to move out of the way. So instead you'll keep it hidden and when you're close enough...boom." He told her.

"You won't die...unless you fail me...then I promise you'll die an excruciatingly horrible death." He whispered to her.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
That afternoon, I was brutally and thoroughly introduced to the darkness inside Black. In those hours, my entire reality had been rewritten; as I was welcomed to a new level of agony and fear. However, by the end, it was Black who was there, the only one in this lonely apartment on this strange place. As my senses retruned - to my own horror - I found that faint aroma of his to be... almost a comfort, as if it stood as some kind of reminder, that I was still here, I had survived.

As he lay beside me, I couldn't help but notice the scars. They should have come as no surprise. How could someone be a creature of such cruelty without having been shown his fair share? My fingers moved, as if towards him, yearning to gently caress the raised, discoloured flesh. But he stood, and I hastily retracted my hand before it had reached him.

My eyes followed him as he recanted the story, watching quietly, as he melted easily into the night, becoming just a shadow and leaving only a trail of smoke in his wake. His voice seemed to echo all around me, as if he had truly dispersed into the darkness. As he approached me with a chuckle, I couldn't help but feel a powerful shiver grip my spine.

"You're unstoppable." I breathed, my voice hushed with fear, shaking in disgust.

Disgust at him, for all those travesties? All that death and unnecessary fear? Or disgust at myself, for not being as deterred by it as I should have been?

I let out a yelp as he grabbed my neck, wrenching me to my feet and spinning me around. I winced, wavering a little; my legs were still weak and my breath ragged. Gazing up into those peircing crimson eyes, I fell quiet, the moment suspended in the cloud of smoke between us. Two words. Sharp and commanding, he threw me back to the bed as he started to get dressed.

"Go?" I echoed meekly.

My only answer was a sharp instruction, which I heeded as I hastily dressed as best I could given how sore I was. He might be a monster, hells, he might be the worst monster in the Galaxy, but Black hadn't yet let me perish, and gods know he'd had plenty of chances. Whatever his reasoning, I couldn't yet see a reason not to follow him.

It was made clear as we descended towards the cantina below, Black pointing out an angry, wookie that reeked of booze as he growled and stumbled about. The man beside me revealed his weapons, placing a hand upon my cheek. I gazed up into his eyes as he assured me once more that if I did as he told, I wouldn't die. This time, however, it was a lot harder to believe him. This time, it wasn't his own wrath he promised to keep from me. I swallowed, my heart in my throat, one hand gently reaching out to pick up one of the orbs.

My mind went back to the hours gone by. He was capable of such... creative agony. There was no doubt in my mind that if I refused, I would find new depths to that hell. My eyes flickered from his, down to the orb, and back again. Could it be that perhaps he wasn't lying? Could he truly make that promise?

I nodded. The orb was slipped into my pocket and I spun on my heel before I had a chance to think too much about it. Before me was the drunken wookie, still stumbling about and causing a raucous. However, as he noticed me, he seemed to lose interest somewhat in his rant. I sensed the change in the air immediately; from that hazy, chaotic stupor to an intense and primal hunger.

"So... you're Aryyy'yook?" I ventured, casually shrugging my shoulder so the fabric of my coat slid down.

The wookie turned his entire body to me. Instinctively my hand went to my pocket, feeling the detonator hidden within. I paused a second, my steps faltering. It felt so smooth and... almost pleasant, just a little sphere of metal, adorned with a switch. So innocent. Pursing my lips, I forced myself to focus on the stinking drunk in front of me.

"I... wanted to find you..." I continued, my heart racing, "I was told that... if I had a problem with an old boyfriend or something... you could help make it go away. I uh, I don't got much money, y'see, but I'm sure, I'm sure I can make it worth your while... What do you say? Can you help me?

With those last words, I tilted my gaze up to him, to peer up pleadingly through my lashes. Ary lumbered closer, his massive form seemingly bearing down on me.

Not yet.

He stopped just a few feet away, even still he loomed over me.

Not yet.

His great furred head canted to one side, as if studying me.

Not.

Yet.

Then the beast let out something of a sigh, or perhaps it was a chuckle. As he did, he closed the distance between us. One great arm slid around my waist, yanking me close to him. He opened his mouth to reply, exhaling a stinking cloud of alcoholic breath.

Now.

In my pocket, my finger activated the detonater.

And everything went white.
 
When Faegard slipped from Zachariah's grasp it was because she had understood the task he'd given her. He couldn't help but keep his eyes locked on that slender frame as it progressed further and further away from him and closer to its intended target. As Zachariah watched the woman make her way over he suddenly realized something. She is perfect. She obeys his command almost flawlessly...almost. His mind recalled earlier that morning when she had disobeyed his order and he had ensured she paid the price through the evening, to his pleasure. Still, he knew that she was a woman who could be easily molded into a creation of his own design. For a man such as Black who was a master of identifying the flaws each being presented and then exploiting those flaws this small witchling was perfect for him. As she grew closer and closer, Zachariah turned his back to the scene. He'd love to watch the moment where the explosion goes off, yet he knew the light would be too much for his eyes.

He waited, closing his eyes and preparing himself for what was to come. He pulled the blaster pistol from his waistband and waited.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Boom. The sonic pulse echoed out, causing Black's eyes to slam open. When he opened his eyes the alley he stood in seemed as if it had been bathed in daylight. The light faded and Black's lips curled up in a sick smirk. He spun on his heel, immediately advancing towards the cantina. The Wookie was laid upon his back, crying out in terror and pain, it's massive hands clutching it's eyes. There were a number of his gang members around him, screaming out and clutching their eyes. Zachariah laughed out, a deep fulfilled laugh that showed how pleased he was that his plan had gone off without a hint. "You idiots are just too easy!" He yelled out, his eyes turned to the woman who laid on the ground. It seemed Faegard had blacked out from the grenade, no wonder. She would be lucky if her eardrums weren't shattered. He didn't spare her a second glance.

His blaster pistol sang out seven times in a row. Blasting through the thick matted fur of a Wookie was no easy task, but it was doable. The blaster pierced the fur on the third shot and every one after that was only ensuring the massive beasts death. "Goodbye fuzzy." Black chuckled, before looking to the rest of the Gang members who were on the ground, scattered and trying to orient themselves. "Hey, who's in charge?!" He called to one of the men close to the dead Wookie.

The man looked to Black in pure confusion as he propped himself up on his knees. "What?!" He yelled, deafened by the sonic grenade. Black sighed, aiming his blaster pistol for the man and firing. The bolt struck him dead in the chest and he slammed back into the ground. "Hey, someone who isn't freaking deaf. Who is in charge?" One of the men who had been closer to the cantina groaned a bit before looking down at the dead Wookie. "What the hell?!" Another blaster bolt soared, slamming into the man's head and throwing him back into the cantina.

Black growled in frustration. "
Who?!" He demanded, and then one of the men who had been laid on the ground held his hands up in deference. "You! You man!" He said, causing Black to lower the blaster pistol with a smirk. "Good to know. Now, I've decided I'm gonna do some remodeling to yalls little gang. Starting with some staffing changes. Since fuzzy here has a hole in his chest, he ain't going to be fit to lead anymore. Long story short, this gang is mine." He said, before tucking the blaster pistol in his waistband. "Any of you sons of bitches got a problem with that?" He asked, turning his eyes to the remaining gang members. By now those members of the gang that had been inside were coming out from the cantina. No one stood against Black that night. As the man stepped onto the Wookie's dead corpse to make his way into the cantina he glanced back to Faegard. "Hey, get the girl inside." He told the members of the gang. They were hesitant, yet in a few seconds two members of the gang were lifting the girl up and carrying her inside.


The Next Morning
Faegard had spent the entire night unconscious. Luckily the gang had a hack doctor who was able to look the girl over. Although she'd likely wake up with one hell of a headache, Black had been assured she'd live. He'd had the girl laid down in a back room at the top of the cantina loft. Black himself was in the loft's main hall, laying over a couch and reading from a datapad. The loft was busy as members of the gang seemed to be rushing in and out, moving large crates from the loft down to the cantina proper.

"Hey boss, we got a crate of blasters here, where you want that?" One of the gang members called out, causing Black to look up from the datapad he held. "Keep the weapons up here, drugs in the basement, and anything else can sit in the back of the cantina." He told the man before looking back to the datapad. Black yawned, tossing the datapad to the side and reclining back on the couch. There was some redheaded woman who'd approached him, sitting on his lap in an attempt to seduce him. His leg came up and he kicked the woman hard in her backside before closing his eyes as if set to nap.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
Everything went white.

And then immediately went black.

There had been some kind of a dull thud, I think, before it all just zapped away. I think my last thought might have been that Zachariah Black had lied to me, sending the stupid little girl to her death, and manipulating her into orchestrating it herself. How disgustingly clever.

But... I was not dead. At least, I didn't think I was. For some time I seemed to linger in this blackness, Somewhere between dreams and memories, between dying and waking, I floated, the distance beat of some far-off drum serving as my tether to, well, anything at all. I could feel flashes of things; fear, anger, submission, superiority, after a while I realised... they were people. I was feeling... what, people, coming close to me? Walking past, coming close enough to wherever I was that even here amind the nothing, I could feel them.

The drum grew steadily louder, stronger, pounding all around me, until it filled me up completely. It consumed me; this dreadful thudding, until I couldn't take it anymore.

My eyes flutered open.

It was a relief to be awake again; to feel and see and smell and touch. However, that drumming hadn't gone away, instead it seemed to slam against my head over and over. I groaned, raising a hand to touch my head.

A few minutes passed before the pounding subsided enough for me to try and stand. This place was strange. It was not where I'd fallen, not where I'd been before that. Slowly, gingerly, I pulled myself up, keeping a palm pressed against my forehead as I hobbled for the door. There was only one thoght in my mind. I wanted to find him. Totally disoriented, alone, scared and in pain, he was - for all he had done - the only thing I could rely on.

Pulling open the door, I stepped out into the main room of some sort of loft, to find Black reclining on a couch. Immediately I felt a rush of relief. However, that rush soured as I spied the redhead.

That was strange.

Why would I care if some poor, misguided thing fell into his trap? Better her than me, right? Why would that ugly pang of jealousy even venture anywhere near me? My brow furrowed as I grimaced and took a few steps into the room.

"A flashbang." I said quietly, the realisation dawning me as I gazed at him, the cleverness and cruelty impressive in equal measure. "I didn't know it was a flashbang I took for you."

My eyes flickered briefly to the redhead. A subtle flex? Perhaps. I'd earned that much at least, right?
 
The girl's mousy voice caused Black's lips to curl into a knowing smirk, though he didn't care to open his eyes. In fact all the man did do was bring his hat over his face to better block out the light of the room. Understandable since he'd spent the entire night up and dealing with the mess that was this gang. What the hell were these jackasses names anyway? He never thought to ask. Instead he set them to the task of grabbing every blaster, credit, and piece of spice that they had under their control. The men continued to walk around, staying noticeably distant from Faegard. No wonder. In the night one of the gang had accidently opened the girl's door and Black broke his neck for the misstep. Accident or not, he'd been clear that the girl would get a night's rest. He didn't take well to people disobeying his orders.

He chuckled at the girl's words. "You thought it was a detonator." He said without hiding the amusement in his voice. Of course she thought it was a thermal detonator. He fashioned them to look just like thermal detonators, no one could have known the difference but him. He settled deeper into the couch, letting out a sigh of relaxation before using a single finger to tip his hat back. "Ya did good, girl." He told her, those crimson eyes settling on her. They were so expertly harsh she may even second guess if he was being serious, but when he let the hat rest once again she would know. "Gangs got about...five thousand credits to their name. Not much of shit. Another ten thousand in spice and maybe another ten in arms. We could probably make it...about a month on that. After we find your ship we gotta pay to scramble the damn things codes. That alone can cost fifty thousand credits...on the cheap end." He said.

The man exhaled, realizing that he'd started thinking again. "Damn it." He muttered, rising up from the couch and standing into a long drawn out stretch. "Looks like I ain't sleepin'." He said, before turning to Faegard.

Something was off. His eyes dead locked on the woman and he gazed at her, pulling his hat off for a moment and searching every bit of the girl's being. That's when he followed her eyes. The slightest flicker that washed over to the red headed girl in the corner of the room. A hang around of the gang who had been trying to get at Black all night. Was that it? Jealousy. Black didn't need Faegard's head in the realm of jealousy, it was sloppy and didn't allow for much give. The man walked over to the redhead, his hand coming up to the girl's chin almost seductively. "
Hey sweet thing...did you want some of me?" The girl nodded, smiling a sultry look before Black pushed her face away. He walked away from the girl with a chuckle. "Too damn bad." He made his way over to Faegard and reached out, grabbing the back of her neck and urging her closer to the man. "This one's all the snack I need." He said, leaning down to press his lips to hers, his tongue sliding out to meet hers in a rather heated kiss. He held Faegard in the kiss for a time and by the time they parted the red head was gone, likely fleeing her embarrassment.

Black chuckled a bit before turning back, running a hand through his hair without a second thought to the woman who'd left. "Anyway. There are a few other gangs in the streets, most of 'em smaller than this one. So we can either tic tac them....or we can go for a different plan." He said with a smirk rising towards the woman.

"Check it out." He said, gesturing to a table in the corner of the room. "So there's this big trading rig that comes through every few weeks to refuel and refit. During the refit, most of the crew are out of the ship in the cantinas and hotels chasing tail. So, rather than trying to find a ship we can buy, why not find a ship with somethin' to sell?" He said with a smirk. "Supposed to be a Durasteel hauler from some refinery deep in the Rim. Anyway, it's privately owned so no attachment to the Sith or Imperial troops. We take the ship, destroy the transponders and I know at least thirty places in the Rim where we could see the cargo for a few million credits." He said.

He looked at the woman and chuckled. "Wanna hear the best part?"

"We're gonna blow up the spaceport." He said with a laugh. "The whole damn thing." He let out another laugh before explaining a bit more. "By the time the rubble has been sorted through we'll be long gone and have a few million in our pockets. From there we can find your cute little ship and hell, maybe we'll even be able to keep the hauler. We'll have to scramble its codes too though." He said with a shrug. The man kicked the table idly before turning back and looking to the young girl he'd taken as his own. "We can use the spice and credits to pay off some of the other gangs, get some more people to help. So far we got about twelve guys and half of them may flake out before we're out of here."

"Either way we got some work to do. First thing tomorrow you're going to the town's shitty little record building and finding a schematic to the spaceport. They gotta have a fuel line. While you do that I'll find us something to go boom."

Faegard Faegard
 

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O B J E C T I V E
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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
The man chuckled as I spoke, as if amused by my realisation.

I wanted to be angry at him, to yell at him, to scream at how terrified I was, at how shameful it felt to be laughed at. The way he almost luxuriously settle into the couch - as if revelling in that thought - only further incited some divine anger inside me. Did I really mean so little? I opened my mouth to retort but then...

Ya did good, girl

My mouth closed again.

I crept a little closer as he spoke, talking about what the gang had and how lacking they were. I... did good? Those words knocked some of the wind out of my sails, and whatever was left was taken by what he said next.

"My... ship...?" I whispered.

My mind raced, my thoughts suddenly swirling around the possibility that I might actually see the Phantasm again someday. I had been expecting to be told I should be grateful that I still had my life, but no, he was... offering me my ship back? My eyes were wide as they followed the Outlaw as he stood and turned to me.

Then he turned from me to the redhead, and I felt that angry tongue of fiery envy once more leap up within me. It was ugly and uncomfortable, souring the idea of retrieving my ship. But as he publicly rebuked her, approaching me, I found myself curling into his side as he grabbed my neck, taking pride in being the one he chose. I didn't even think about kissing him back, just reacting to the flood of relief, of pride, of... affection?

By the time he pulled away, the other girl was gone, and things returned to business. My mind was still spinning, but I fought to slow my racing heart as he outlined his thoughts.

I pulled away from his side as he outlined the plan, poring over the ideas and information he'd gathered.

"I can do that." I replied quietly, "You're ambitious, Black. Crazy ambitious. It'll be protected,for sure. Hmm... Have you considered... a non-violent way to get control of the ship? I mean, of the two of us, you're the pro at this, but... if you can put me in a room with someone in charge, I could potentially get us onto the bridge. I've... never done it before, but I know I can."

I felt myself grimacing. It was a nice ideal, sure, but if I'd learned one thing while I was here, it was that nice ideals weren't as practical as I'd like them to be. I had plenty of bruises to verify that.
 
While Faegard spoke, Black settled back onto the couch and listened to her words. He seemed to daydream more than actually show her any attention, however the moment she finished speaking he turned those blood-red eyes to her. "No can do. We do that and everyone will be missing that ship. Only way we get that big fucker outta here without a bunch of bounty hunters on our ass is if everyone thinks it was blown to hell." He said, pulling his cap off for a moment.

He stood up, settling the hat on top of Faegard's head before drawing into another long, heavy stretch.


Black flicking his finger against Faegard's nose. "Besides my way is more fun." He said with a cruel smirk upon his face. He jerked his head to the side, showing that it was time for Faegard to follow him. He sank a hand in his pocket before making his way down the stairs. In the cantina, most of the members of the gang were still moving things about, transferring all they could into the cantina floor. Black ran a hand over the back of his head as he exhaled a bit. "Still, we got a few days for planning so just focus on getting the shit done that I tell you to."

Days Later, evening
The time had come for Black and Faegard to leave the little planet they had ended up on. There had been some commotion over the few days, but nothing to cause any kind of actual concern. On the day of the heist, Black stood at the top of the loft, setting his hat on his head as he smirked at himself. "About time for some blood." He muttered. When Faegard approached him, he sank a hand into his pocket and turned to her with a smirk. "Ready for you part? Little rabbit?"

"A few of the men who work in the engineering deck of the ship love coming into this cantina to throw their credits away. They like little slim things like you that they can drool over, so you're going to invite some of them up into the loft for some action. Only action they're getting is the business end of a stun blaster. We stun them, take their uniforms, and that's our passage to the ship. The gang are gonna rig up the explosives while we take the ship and kill the crew." He told her.

Faegard Faegard
 

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T A G: Zachariah Black Zachariah Black
The day of the heist came.

Swallowing my nerves as best I could had become something of a staple for me by this point; although Black himself likely easily saw through it still, at least the crew around us wouldn't. I approached him as I finished winding my hair into a casual braid over one shoulder, listening as he spoke. My chest rose in a deep breath as he explained my part, nodding as I gazed up at him,

"I think I can manage that." I answered, keeping my thoughts to myself.

Thankfully, over the few days, we'd been able to accumulate a few more items, including suitable clothing for my part. It felt strange pulling on such a skimpy dress, and I had to resist the urge to tug at the tiny hem constantly.

~ ~ ~​

It didn't take long for the bar to fill up as workers trailed in. Long shifts over, their weary faces and full pockets easily predicted their plans for the evening. I could feel their exhaustion; wafting in like a hot breeze, preceding their entry to the bar itself. My stomach twisted into a knot of guilt, these weren't bad guys, they just had something we needed, something Black needed. With a grimace, I downed my drink and forced all those thoughts out of my mind.

"Well, hey there darlin', you look way too fine for a place like this."

Show time.

I turned, allowing my braid to tumble over my shoulder as I batted my eyelashes.

"You think so?" I asked innocently.

By the time the first worker opened his mouth to answer, another approached his side, eyeing me with a hunger that almost reminded me of Black himself.

"We know so," He smirked, to the subtle annoyance of his friend.

I shrugged one shoulder innocently, pretending to think for a moment,

"Well,", I responded, "I know a place where I look... just right. It's not much of a party, though. You guys think maybe... we could turn it into one?"

By the time I made my way back towards the loft, I had no less than five workers in tow. Thankfully, being in front of them all, I could allow my expression to soften for a moment, the mixture of guilt and fear seeping through while no one could see it.

You'd better be on the other side of this door, Black I thought to myself, please.
 

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