He Who Drinks With The Devil...

[Revenchent]

Lok had not been a pretty planet to begin with. The suddenness of Lord Bilben's colonization had only made it uglier. the massive settlement was like a great wart upon the sandy planet's face. It was huge and gaudy, bright with flashing neon lights at night, and bursting with activity during the day. The city never slept, not even during the great sandstorms that often ravaged its many buildings. It had become a center of commerce on the desert world, and numerous smaller settlements had sprung up within eyesight around the city, all pledged to minor Hutt or pirate lords, and all hoping to steal some of the city's success.

It was known as Gimaral, and Corin hated it.

Young and tall, Corin looked like any of Lord Bilben's hired muscle. He carried himself with an air of confidence that brooked on the edge of arrogance, but did not take that fateful plunge. His hair was cropped into a short mohawk, to keep it from being pulled, and he always kept a hood pulled over his head when it was on duty. It helped him blend in better, given the unnaturally bright blues of his eyes.

His mother had said they were her gifts to him. Here on this backwater, they were more of a curse. Seated in the corner of the 'ballroom', as Bilben called it, he watched for trouble. Dozens of beings moved through the long, flat room. They danced around the marble pillars that held up the ceiling, meandered in corners with their significant others, or snorted spices in the adjacent rooms. In the center of it all sat Bilbin, a great fat hutt of a dark green coloration, with reptilian green eyes that sparkled with intelligence.

His assorted followers meandered around his massive throne, some watching, others indulging. In front of him sat the minor lords, some hutts, others of varying species that had climbed to some semblance of prominence here on Lok. All of them were accompanied by a gaggle of servants.

Between them stood lines of people in chains. Most were barely clothed, and hailed from humanoid races. These were the slaves to be given, or sold to one of the other lords. Alongside them were others who wished to prostrate themselves before the lords, and find a place in their court. Most were young women hoping to find themselves at a rich pirate's side.

Corin had little taste for them. He watched with uncaring eyes as he rose from his corner, his hands resting upon the rifle that hung from his shoulders.

"Corin," Bilbin rumbled in basic, "Which of these do you think would suit me best?" The Hutt gestured with a meaty finger toward a line of women.

The Mandalorian shrugged. "Dunno sir. Your tastes are more refined than mine." He answered, wearing a thin smile that would placate the Hutt.

Bilbin laughed. "Perhaps, perhaps. Hmm, dance."

The women did as they were told, some eagerly, others less so. Corin turned his attentions away from the gathering toward the corners of the room. Until his suspicions were concerned, he would protect Bilbin. The Hutt paid well anyway, so it wasn't like he was wasting his time if he was wrong. Even still, helping the slave-trading Hutt made his stomach curl with distaste.

Sighing, Corin took up a position alongside Bilbin, and pulled his hood a little lower over his face. It blocked some of the flashing lights from his eyes, but the thunder of raunchy music could not be blocked out. He would just need to deal with it for now.

 

[Vaela Saboe]

It was late afternoon when the transport ship had docked on Lok. It's cargo - women, some young, some older, some dressed in rags, some decorated in delicate faux jewels. Each would be carted to Gimaral, in which a prestigious party was to be held by the Hutts. There, they would be swanned off into a harem belonging to whichever Hutt took a fancy to them. They walked chained to each other, through the bustling streets, some women looked confident, excited even, and other's walked with a desperate sadness.

Vaela was among these women. By choice, perhaps, but only because there were credits at the end of this journey; a substantial amount of credits in fact, for having to endure the primitive nature of the Hutts for several months to come. Her face neither etched towards confidence nor desperation. Most of the women would be pleased with whichever Hutt decided she was worthy enough to enter his harem, but Vaela was here to attract the attention of only one Hutt - Lord Bilben.

The long line of women were ushered through the back entrance of the Manor, into the basement. They were to fill up the small rooms and 'get ready' - a prestigious party was no place for rags, matted hair and dirty skin. No, the women would all have to be presentable, immaculate even, if they were to be chosen. If they weren't picked, they would be sold off as slaves of labour and hardship. Vaela wondered if the desperately sad ones would prefer that fate.

The rooms of the basement were lit brightly enough so that reflections were visible in the chunks of glass mirrors dotted along the walls. In the corner of the rooms were huge bins of delicate clothing...if they could be called clothing that is.

'All items will be returned at the end of the event,' shouted an organizer as their chains were unlocked. 'Anyone caught stealing, will be fed to the rancors.'

If there was one thing that the Hutts organised without fail, it was their parties and women.

By late evening, each one was dressed and beautified as best as they could be. The event organizer had them chained once again, inspected, and then ushered into the Ballroom. It was busy, loud, and stunk of long eaten food mixed with incense. Men and women stopped to gawk at the line of women, hollering, pointing out their favorite. The crowd seemed to move with the women, until they came to a stop in front of the Hutts sitting atop their thrones. The disgust for the vile creatures did not reach Vaela's face.

She wore a flat golden headdress which spilled little golden disks onto her forehead. Underneath, her white blonde hair fell to her waist in delicate curls. Over her nose and mouth she wore a light blue veil with golden trimmings, which matched the colors of her bralet. Golden disks fell from the cloth onto her bare stomach, making sounds like little bells every time she moved. On her bottom half, she wore a sheer skirt. The strips of light grey fabric covered her front, and behind, leaving her thighs exposed. From the golden belt fell more of the little golden disks in varying lengths, jingling as her curves moved.

Vaela scanned the line of Hutts until her grey eyes found their target. Lord Bilben had the largest throne, in the center of all the others, surrounded by his servants and security.

He will pick me, he will pick me, he will pick me, she chanted in her head.

'Dance,' his voice bellowed. The music changed, and the women began to dance in their chains.

Vaela stood still for a moment. A tactic, to draw the Hutts eyes to her - the only woman, frozen. She counted the seconds in her head, sighed internally at what an insane position she had put herself in for credits, and began to sway her hips to the music. She let the beat overtake her, and for a fleeting moment, the Hutt's eyes locked onto hers. She held it, seductively, determined, and resisting the urge to throw up in her mouth as he hungrily scanned her body.

Pick me you fat lump, pick me, pick me.

Lord Bilben's eyes left her body and scanned to the right.

'That one, unchain her, and her, that one too, the dark haired one,' he jabbed his finger as he barked his orders. 'The one at the end, with flaming red hair, and that one in red, and the one with the veil.' His finger pointed to Vaela. 'Bring them to me, let me see them dance closer.'

[member="Corin Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

With tired eyes, Corin looked over the women. He'd seen this display a dozen times before, and he had long since learned to pay it little mind. Whatever amusement he might have taken in the performance was eclipsed by the guilt he felt at their exploitation. As much as he wanted not to care, as much as he wished he had the iron heart of Mandalore, his was still soft. It was his mother's influence, he knew. She was a rough, but kindhearted woman. She had made him soft, and now it made him hesitate.

With a heavy sigh, the Mandalorian steadied his thoughts. His father would have fought through this guilt with ease. Calico Tal'verda was a soldier, and a bit of a legendary one at that. He had built the Tal'verda from the ground up, and brought them into prominence. Corin's sister had taken over in his stead, and though he leadership skills had been lacking, his clan still held leverage on Mandalore.

It was a name Corin needed to live up to. It was a title he had to take up one day. It was a responsibility he shirked here on the outer rim. Kurs'taytlir needed a leader, and Corin was next in line for its leadership. Other stronger men had taken the place in his absence, for the most capable always ruled, but he would return one day. When he did, he would have to challenge for the right of Alor, and he could not allow himself to fail.

Such thoughts of his own struggle evaporated as the blond haired woman stepped forward. She captured his attentions just as much as she did Bilben. His hands tightened around the rail of his rifle as he watched her dance, his eyes narrowing. She was beautiful, as were all the women brought before Bilben, but that was not what stole his attentions. There was something off about her - something that put Corin on edge.

"Bring them to me, let me see them closer." Bilben rumbled.

Corin did not hesitate to obey. He stepped forward, lacing gentle gloved fingers around the blond haired woman's forearm. Courteously, he lead her in front of Bilben alongside the others.

"You went for that one Corin. Why? Do you like her?" The Hutt asked. He looked at Corin, genuinely interested in his opinion. The Hutt had an odd affection for his young security chief.

Corin glanced from the Hutt to the veiled woman's face, his eyes peering out from under his hood. He decided not to lie. "I found her interesting."

"Oh yes, I'm sure you did." The Hutt laughed, "He finds you interesting, my dear. Perhaps I will take you just for him. I've never seen you with a woman before, my boy. Surely you must get lonely."

Corin felt his face flushing slightly, and was silently thankful for the dim light of the room. He released the woman, and stepped away. "I would not presume to have interest in any of your court women, Lord Bilben. I respect you too much for such treachery." He lied.

The Hutt chuckled. "Ever the modest one," his reptilian eyes centered on the women brought before him. "Proceed."

[member="Vaela Saboe"]

 

[GreenEve]

delete

 

[Vaela Saboe]

The dialogue between the man and Bilben had sparked Vaela's own interests. This man was obviously close to the Hutt, close enough that their personal lives were open for discussion, which meant this man might be of use to her efforts. Who he was to the Hutt, for now, remained a mystery.

Vaela paid him little more mind as she stood before Bilben. Her eyes remained on the Hutt as he ordered them to proceed impressing him. Luckily for Vaela, promiscuity was frequent in her line of work and was like second nature to her. Getting close to rich men, to steal their money, or assassinate their security chiefs, or to gain access to vaults...it all required a certain finesse, a seductive art that little women possessed. She knew how to get what she wanted, and men, Hutt's or not, would bend to her will.

Vaela began to dance once more, the music changed, slower, more intimate. Behind her, she could hear the crowd murmuring, placing bets on who would be chosen, and who the other Hutt's would be left to choose from. Vaela rolled her hips, twirled, and bent her body in delicate aerobic moves. The crowd grew louder, impressed...bendy women always had one up it seemed.

Bilben chuckled as he licked his bottom lip. He then held up his hand, and the music ceased and the crowds quietened. The men and women were eager to hear if their bets would return any credits and the Hutt knew it - he took his time eyeing up each of the women before him. This was a sick show, but not the sickest Vaela had been a part of.

One by one, he pointed at the woman he wanted in his harem. The crowds murmured with each selection.

Pick me, pick me.

Vaela's eyes never left the green lump before her. Of course if she didn't get picked, then there would always be another way - an unnecessarily more complicated way, but several options nonetheless.

'And!' Bilben's voice erupted, 'My grand prize.'

A stubby hand reached out and grabbed Vaela's waist. The Hutt pulled her close, his stench filling her nose, his breath grotesque, and his skin rough. Vaela swallowed her disgust as the crowd erupted in unison and closed the half circle they had made to resume the party and collect their credits.

'Show them to the quarters,' Bilben said sideways. 'Those ones,' he nodded to the other women he had chosen, 'Have them stay in their rooms, I have no use for them tonight. This one,' he squeezed Vaela, 'I want her joined with my other prizes. Make sure they are ready for the meeting at midnight. We need something pretty to look at while we discuss business.'

He let go of Vaela at last, and she stepped back to join the other women as they were carted off into the depths of the palace.

Corin Tal'verda

 

[Revenchent]

Corin could only imagine how being so close to Bilben might have been. He assumed it was an unpleasant experience. He felt a stab of pity for the blond woman, but fought it down just as quickly as it rose. He had no time to worry over the servant women, and judging by the way this one moved, he doubted she was one of the slaves. Likely one of the volunteers, he decided. A woman who knew her own beauty, and chose to use her body as the tool for her success. Part of Corin recoiled at the thought. Given all the values instilled in him by his parents -- people who made their way off of conflict -- he found so soft a profession undesirable.

His eyes locked on the woman's once more; her blues contrasting against his own. There was a moment's fleeting suspicion in his gaze, the remnant of the wrong feeling he had taken when first looking upon her. Corin was the one to break contact, turning about to do as Bilben ordered. There was to be a meeting this evening, and Corin would be sure to use that to his advantage.

He stepped up alongside the woman, just as his fellow guards moved with the other women. He kept a fair bit of distance between the two of them. Given her clothing, or rather the lack thereof, the gentleman in him was saying to look away. He did just that, only glancing to the side as he gestured toward the back rooms.

"That was quite the show," he mused, his voice low enough so that only she might hear. "Bilben's picky, and I've never seen him go for a blond before. Always been more of a Togruta kind of Hutt." Corin continued. It was idle conversation, but it would be enough to gauge this woman. He was confident he would be able to figure out just how smart she was, and whether she was a threat to his reason for being here or not.

"You move like a professional, not like a slave. Down on your luck, and looking for a way out?" He asked as they came into one of the back halls. It was lined with doors on either side, and Corin chose the first one he knew to be empty.

"This is yours. Bilben is going to be wanting you tonight, so I'd advise you get some rest. He gets fidgety when his girls don't look their best -- makes him look bad in front of his friends, but then I doubt you'll have much trouble with the that." Whether Corin meant it as a compliment was difficult to tell. This close, his features could be seen from under the hood, but his lips were pressed into a thin line. Even still, there was a friendliness to him, a warmth in his eyes.

The line curled into a small smile as Corin opened the door. "Well, I guess this is a welcome. Hope you like the place."

[member="Vaela Saboe"]

 

[GreenEve]

deleteeeeeeeeeeee

 

[Vaela Saboe]

Vaela did her best to memorize the hallways as they moved through them. She was careful to keep her head forward, but every now and again the man who had bought her to Bilben spoke, and so she stole glances over his shoulder through the open doorways, creating a map in her mind. He was prying. Whether he suspected she wasn't here just to dance for the green lump, or whether he was just trying to be nice considering the life she was about to lead indefinitely, she did not know. Frankly, his questions irritated her.

Vaela kept her mouth closed while she mused over which part to play. A dancer, looking for the richest Hutt to pay her way? A sad girl, torn from her family and sold into slavery? If this man was as friendly as he seemed to be with his endless questions, then perhaps the latter identity might serve her far better. By the way he dared not look at her half naked body, she gauged he was perhaps on the gentler side of his emotions, especially towards women. Flirting and confidence would likely shy him away, yet if she played the doe-eyed, poor slave girl, then perhaps he might become an asset that she could manipulate. He seemed close to Bilben, the closest in the Hutt's entourage that Vaela had seen. She thanked whatever God's there were for something entertaining to play with while she spied on the Hutt.

And so as they stopped outside the door of what was to be her quarters, she let the confidence of the dancer falter slightly, stumbling for words at the man's compliment.

'I-uh...thanks...for the welcome.' Behind her thanks she played a generous amount of sincerity, like she was grateful for someone who wasn't as vile as Bilben, though not too much that she disregarded his authotity. She was 'scared' of his authority. He had pretty eyes. 'I'm sure I will like it here.'

Vaela looked doubtful, and let out a soft sigh as she looked to her feet. Then she turned, and let herself into the room, shutting the door softly behind her, ending the prying conversation. She rolled her eyes and slipped back into herself now that she was alone. The room wasn't as bad as she had expected - one of the perks to being a 'prize' no doubt.

There was a lock on the door, a window opposite, which looked like a drop that she could make without breaking a leg, there was a double bed with sheets of which she questioned the cleanliness of, and a small bathroom complete with cold water and a basket of used beauty products. On one of the walls, opposite the bed, stood a wardrobe, and inside were several garments similar to that of the ones she wore.

No lounge wear though. Naked, or semi naked reconnaissance missions it was. Vaela sighed and removed the headdress she wore. Tucked into the underside of her hair, close to the base of her skull, were two small versions of her blade of choice. Stuck to the inside of her thigh was a micro datapad, used to converse with her employer.

Her mission - get close to Bilben, and figure out if he was behind some recent massacre of several clans. She didn't care so much for the massacre of the clans, being the cold woman she was, but more to the point - the paycheck was substantial enough for her to (try) and take some time off, or to buy a fancy new ship, she hadn't quite decided yet, but either way, a nice amount of credits. She would communicate with her suspicious employer via the datapad, and he had mentioned during one of their meetings that if it turned out that Bilben was behind the attacks, then he wanted the Hutt assassinated. Vaela hoped he was guilty, for her a job wasn't a job without an assassination. Especially a very, very high profile target such as Bilben. There would be a lot of uproar if he were to be found dead. And there would be bonus credits if it came to his death, and she really hoped that it would.

Vaela stripped and wrapped herself in one of the sheets on the bed. She walked to the bedroom door and opened it, checking the hallway, checking how busy it was. To her dismay, her room was guarded by one of Bilben's goons.

'You're not to leave,' he grumbled. 'Corin will be here to collect you later.'

'I-I was just heading down to return these,' she said, glancing down to the clothes in her hand. 'I really don't want to get into trouble, I was told to return them.' The guard frowned at her. Her expression changed to seductively desperate, in need of a man's help...this one always worked.

'The woman said she would feed any thieves to the rancors. Please? I don't think Lord Bilben would want me ruined.'

After a moment of deliberation, the guard snatched the clothes from her hand. 'I'll take them. Can I get a guard down here?!' He shouted up the hallway - a guard's post? Barracks? Another goon came out of a room at the top of the hallway, laughing behind him at someone else, and took the her guard's place. He glowered at Vaela.

Oh how I would love to snap your neck.

Vaela turned back into her room, frustrated. She was hoping to scout the rest of the floor, and it was even more problematic that she was right next to a guard's station. Tomorrow, she would investigate out of the window, perhaps get onto the ledge of the domed roof. For now, she busied herself with the used makeup pots, and garments in the wardrobe. She would be sure to make a positive impression on both Bilben and his friends so that any future meetings that he had, she would be there, to listen, and report back to her employer.

Vaela picked an outfit and tried it on, admiring her body in the dusty, cracked mirror hanging on the inside of the wardrobe door. The pretty blue eyed guard was right - it wasn't much trouble to look as good as she did.

[member="Corin Tal'verda"]

 

[Revenchent]

The woman was not as he had expected. Given the confidence she'd displayed when dealing with Lord Bilben, Corin had thought her to some kind of opportunist. He'd been involved in this game for too long to see the signs, and this woman had an edge to her one would not expect when conversing with her. She seemed shy, scared, but then most of the women here were. They had good reason to be. Bilben was a powerful Hutt, and a gracious host, so long as his women met his standards. The moment they did not, they would often find themselves given to the guards as pay, or sold to one of the local brothels.

The thought made Corin's nose scrunch up in displeasure, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Here in the underbelly of the galaxy, corruption reigned supreme. It wasn't like back home on Mandalore - where the clans were bound by oaths of honor, and basic morality. Here, it was every man and women for themselves. Perhaps one day the Mandalore would come, and bring order to these forgotten worlds, but Corin held little hope for such an outcome. The Mandalore, beloved as he was, had been lost to the stars in a recent catastrophe. The news hit Corin particularly hard, but he could not return home just yet. There was business that needed tending to before he could return to his homeland.

"Kaysh sirbur ku'rukar, bal gar ku'rukar. Kaysh sirbur redalur, bal gar redalur. Ni liser't gaa'tayl gar." He mumbled in his native tongue, his thoughts drifting to the servant girl. He'd never really been one to appreciate the beauty of the human form. His father had taught him better, but the look in her eyes haunted him in a way. Whatever had brought her to this fate, he could not help her. It was just another small injustice on a list of thousands Corin would have to fix one day.

These thoughts came and went freely as Corin continued his patrols. It was mind-numbing work; the constant plod of his feet on the pavement, and the sound of hedonism echoing around the palace. None of this was for him. This was not his home.

Utterly sick of his surroundings, Corin took a moment to remind himself of his mission, and only then noticed the time. He would need to go and retrieve the girl. He made his way down the winding corridor's to the woman's chambers, and waved the guards off when he came to the door. He slung his rifle across his back, and drew his cowl away from his face so that she might see his expression.

He did not yet have a read on her, but he figured he would soon enough. He only needed to look her in the eyes again; see if she was a threat to what he was trying to accomplish here. Perhaps not, but the niggling feeling in the back of his mind could not be ignored.

After a moment's hesitation, Corin rapped his knuckles on the door. "Dancer," he called, not knowing her name, "It's time. Bilben is going to be expecting you. Are you ready?"

[member="Vaela Saboe"]