Highway to Hellhoop

[Zola]

Although she was sure it had its charms to some, Zola wasn’t sure she wanted to visit Ryloth again anytime soon, so thank the maker she and [member="Akatan Adasca"] were leaving that unforgiving hunk of rock. A refreshing power nap had sobered her up considerably by the time Akatan’s luxury yacht reached his ship, which also served as the mobile corporate headquarters for ADASCACORP. The Ryll Kor punched her system hard, and while she was still feeling euphoric after-shocks of the spice’s chemically-enhanced bliss, the Dark Jedi Knight was thankful to be somewhat lucid again. The night was still young, and she’d barely gotten a chance to know her new business partner, if that’s what he was.

Zola carefully handed off her sleeping attack stohl to one of Akatan’s assistants as she stepped off of the shuttle’s landing ramp. Panning her big brown eyes around the vessel, the Dark Jedi was struck by its overwhelming size and presence. The Hapan had forgotten just how massive Adasca’s ship was, almost like a teeming city in and of itself. With its luxurious interior and attentive servants, not to mention its rich and handsome inheritor, the New Arkanian Legacy seemed like a ship in which she could get used to staying, even if she wasn’t Arkanian. No, not Arkanian at all.

Speaking of the ship’s gorgeous host, what made Mister Adasca himself tick? Other than his disdain for Twi’lek torch songs, she still knew very little about him. Now that he was going to clone her, she supposed they had all of the time in the world to learn more about one another.

“How about some drinks?” Zola suggested, a wicked smile suggesting she'd caught her second wind.

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Sometimes, rules found themselves broken. Even on the New Arkanian Legacy. Even by someone who wasn't Arkanian, exceptions might be made.

He let out a glimmer of a smile as he stepped down from the carpet-covered descent stairs of the Yacht. Ryloth was fun, he thought, but there was no replacement for home. And this place, with the buzz of elegance and as the connoisseur he proclaimed himself to be, the ship structure and design bent to his desires. And his desires were stalwart and numerous, not easily sated. Tilting his head to her question, he smirked and approached her, pushing a hand down into his pocket. "Well, I don't know Ms. Kyrgen. It's quite late and I'm not one for staying up past my bed time."

Squinting his eyes, another devilish smile to match the wicked one painted across the charm of her expression, he pulled the flat gold container out. Cracking it open, he pulled another stim tablet from the rows and placed it between his teeth. Clapping the holder shut, he jammed it back into his pocket and crunched down, all while focusing on her. Was this another business transaction or was there more to this? More concerning, he wondered which he preferred. With eyes fixed on her, deliberate in its slow strafe down her body and figure, he cracked his neck and sniffed. "We have a fine bar just down the way. They aren't open right now but they will be by the time we get there." He held out his hand for [member="Zola"] to take, flashing the gold crest of his family on ring finger. "Come, I'll show you."

The New Arkanian Legacy was a big place. He would help to assuage that truth.

 

[Zola]

When Akatan announced that it was past his bedtime, Zola made a mock frowny face, but then he mentioned the bar.

"What a tease you are, Mister Adasca," she laughed. "I thought you were about to send me off to bed."

Now if he were sending her to his bed? That would be another story.

The Hapan took his hand in hers, lightly stroking his palm and noting the family heirloom on his finger. Akatan definitely enjoyed flashing his wealth around. She wondered if the Arkanian was deliberately trying to impress her or if he was simply accustomed to flaunting his luxurious lifestyle. Credits were nice, but Zola was more impressed with intellect and cunning.

Still, she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she had a penchant for the finer things, and Akatan's family ship was so grand it made a Hutt palace look like a ramshackle hovel.

"This ship is quite something, Akatan. I'd love a tour of the place sometime."

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

"You call that teasing?" He raised an eyebrow as she took his hand in hers. He gave her a look as if to suggest that there was much more beneath the steely gaze than she might suspect. Or maybe she did suspect it, maybe her intent was to draw it out of him. And maybe it was working. "I can do far worse..."

Walking into the bar, he led her to the rustic wooden facility, lacquer and polish all around. An Arkanian stood at the ready as Akatan pulled up a seat and motioned for [member="Zola"] to sit next to him. Looking towards the bartender, Akatan ordered two servings of Flameout. As the drinks were delivered, he scooted one over to the woman and gave a inquisitive expression. "If you wanted to a tour, you need but ask. I'm sure I could free up my schedule for it...with the proper plying."

Taking a sip of his his drink, he winced at the strength of it, the numbness of the throat and the burn was something he wasn't normally used to. In truth, he had never ordered a flameout before. But he suspected that it might be right up Jemmila's alley. Maybe he was too, maybe he wanted to taste the sort of thing that'd she might seek out. Setting it down, he turned towards her and scratched his scalp, pushing hair from his face. "So, after the Ryll, what did you see? Was it immortality or something entirely different?"

 

[Zola]

Zola raised a brow at the drink came sliding towards her. “A Flameout, eh? Now that’s a serious drink.” She sipped the aptly-named cocktail. A hiss through her teeth was the only visible sign of her discomfort at the burn in her throat. Zola wondered if she’d pegged Akatan as too stuffy before. A flameout was not the type of drink for the feint of heart. She laughed breezily when the businessman mentioned plying him.

“I fear I’m at a disadvantage here,” she told him, shaking her head. “What could the man who has everything possibly be plied with?”

What did Zola see when she looked into her mind? Without a filter, removed by the artificial scrubbing of drugs, she saw everything that lay behind the door in the wall. It was difficult to explain to one who wasn’t a theistic mystic, chosen by the gods to divine the galaxy’s path. One thing that she could share with Akatan was the vision she’d experienced on the shuttle. A word in Basic, embossed on her mind. “Hellhoop.”

Zola tucked an errant strand of long brown hair behind her ear and grinned.

“I saw us going on a little adventure.”

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

He felt the surge of stimulant and downed the rest of his flameout, wincing at the strength and feeling the excessive burn of the drink. Snapping his fingers to the bartender, he pointed to the empty cup and gestured to it. Pointing, several times, until the server nodded and started preparing another. Turning back to Zola, he narrowed his view of her and sniffed, feeling the burn through his whole face. "Well, that's the thing about having everything. It's like getting a taste of a fine wine or the image of a beautiful woman stuck in your head. Once it happens, you instinctively want more." He smiled as the bartender filled it up and he shooed the Arkanian away. "I may have everything but I want more. And an overactive imagination only helps fuel that desire."

He felt the flameout finally descend into him stomach, the sensation of a warm caress mixed with a hard punch, he swallowed and embraced the feeling for the change of it. He wasn't used to the harder drinks but he drank his fair share. Mixed with the constant indulging of uppers, he was well suited for addiction. In whatever form it came, pills or alcohol or money or enticing flesh. He was a cloner, a master at his craft, and he felt the shiver of godhood run up the length of his spine as he thought about all his desires inevitably sated.

"A little adventure...you say?" He smiled and pushed the drink back and forth, sloshing the burning fluid for the anticipation of it's consumption. Turning back to Jemmila, he arched a brow. "Well, don't tease me Ms. Kyrgen. I can dish it but I can't take it." He could take it just fine. "Tell me about our upcoming adventure."

[member="Zola"]​

 

[Zola]

“Some say that our imagination creates our reality.” Zola raised both brows and laughed. She reached out to brush her hand along one of his sharp cheekbones, a forward and provocative gesture. The glazed look in his violet eyes told her that her touch wouldn’t be totally unwanted.

“Now what could we possibly do to inspire this overactive imagination of yours, Akatan?”

The flameout began to warm her body. It felt as if there were a hundred tiny fires igniting deep within her. Perhaps it wasn’t just the drink, but the feeling that she was on the precipice of something great. Something she could find at Hellhoop.

“We’re going to a place that can only be found in a single interwoven spacetime continuum. It is called Hellhoop and ships have been known to disappear within its manifold. It is said that in this mysterious place one can find technology from other galaxies."

The Dark Jedi's eyes glimmered with intensity as she snaked her fingers through his, playing with them. This was a vision quest that Zola had to go on, and although she wasn’t sure if she could explain why, she felt strongly that Akatan was a part of it.

“We’re going to explore the fourth dimension.”

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

She was a frisky little thing. As her hand touched against his cheek, his own hand jumped forward to grab her by the wrist. Maybe harder than he wanted, but he was drunk and Arkanian, he wasn't to be blamed. Pausing, he twisted his cheek against her palm, an aggressive act by a dragon. The sort that both prey and prospective mate might receive, he exhaled flameout laced breath against her skin as she spoke of imagination and quantum mechanics and different dimensions. Was that where she was from, another dimension, was that why she had this power, this scent? Or maybe it was the flameout.

Her fingers laced playfully through his as he sipped more of the alcohol, more to his own liking than he would have expected, her mingling just the edge of enticing. "That's the beauty of the imagination, she comes and goes as she pleases..." He smirked, dancing in and out of moments of lively and teasing and intensity, and squinted as he attempted to understand this world she wanted to be thrown into.

"Spacetime continuum...technology from other galaxies?" He leaned forward, taking a sip from his drink, and elbowing the countertop. "Well...I guess it's good I've got a really big ship. Might be hard for this Hellhoop to make disappear." He blinked, the mixture of the stimulants and the alcohol was enough to create a sleepy sharpness about him. Well that and a lack of self-control he wasn't entirely used to. Or perhaps this thing could have been in him all along, just waiting for the write set of keys to open the door. "So tell me, where is this forth dimension...this Hellhoop?" He was a cloner, not a physicist. With her talk of the force and immortality, he was paddling through the deep end. And it seems it would only get deeper.

[member="Zola"]​

 

[Zola]

It startled Zola when Akatan grabbed her wrist. The move was aggressive, impulsive, and domineering, and it made her pulse quicken. Zola loved challenging men. The Hapan had a history with them. Adekos. Vheissu. That cute little Marek Starchaser clone who'd almost gotten her arrested during a spy game. Provocative men were like a power switch to the more primal side of Zola. Like the drink on the bar before her, Akatan had a fire about him, veiled behind his stuffy, ex-senator visage.

Her fingers relinquished their playful dance only to move to his lap, where they gently traced along his thighs. When Akatan asked where to find the Hellhoop, she shrugged.

"It's near Attahox, in the Hocatar sector," she said, drawing a figure eight on his leg with one fingertip. "I'm not even sure a master astrogator could find it. Legend has it that the Hellhoop only chooses those who are worthy."

That last part wasn't technically true. The Hellhoop was an anomaly and there was a very good chance that Adasca's Arkanian legacy ship would fly around the Hocatar sector for days and still not find it. But what Akatan didn't know wouldn't hurt him, would it? Zola looked at him squarely with her big brown eyes.

"Do you think we're worthy, Akatan?"

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Master astrogator. Sounded like a space faring reptile overlord. He nearly laughed at the imagery. If he weren't so fixed on her hand movements, her body posture, and her teasing. She may have not meant it. But he suspected she did. And the crawl of a smirk, slow and steady, would reveal some form of recognition of that, if not condoning in it's entirety.

"This Hellhoop sounds like trouble...I'm not sure I'm prepared for the consequences of roaming around the Hocatar Sector, hoping some location finds us worthy." Of course he was worthy, he was Arkanian nobility. But her, well, he could make her worthy.

His tanned fingers, those not formerly laced between hers, reached up to tilt her chin upwards as she traced an infinity symbol against his leg. Tilting his head, he studied her expression and those big brown doe eyes. How innocent they seemed, placed against a particularly sinful canvas. Not that he mind, but she was playing games and he knew all too well the sight of pieces moving.

"And if we aren't worthy, we may vary well have to pass the time until our judgment is more...favorable." His violet eyes constricted behind the slits of his eyelids, suddenly wondering which alternative he preferred. After all, that would give him time to give her the 'tour' she seemed to desperately want. Perhaps he wanted it too. "Shall we set course for the Hocatar sector, then?"

[member="Zola"]​

 

[Zola]

"Most definitely," answered Zola, with a smile that showed her canines. Akatan was game for trying to find the Hellhoop. That was good. She looked into his violet eyes as he held her chin, possessively, like a prized pet. She could play that role if that was what he wanted. Zola was an excellent player of games.

Her brown eyes panned over his form. The Arkanian had a nice, lean body. He wasn't an endomorph, but seemed to have the muscle tone of a swordsman or a marksman.

"I have a feeling it will be a life-changing experience. You might need some training though. How are you with a blaster?"

He wouldn't be able to wield a saber of course, but they could be plunging themselves into a veritable demon's maw of danger. She wouldn't be able to protect him completely.

"Now about passing the time?" She lifted her hand from his thigh to point at his drink. "Have those Flameouts left you with enough energy for that tour? Or should we retire for the evening?"

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

He patted his chest, pulling out a small datapad. Sending a command onward, the ship charted a navigational route towards Hocatar sector. It was a big ship, capable of hyperspace travel, but that didn't diminish the amount of time it would take to get there. Seems the Arkanian and Hapan would be spending far more time together then he had originally anticipated. That was fine, he was starting to enjoy the idea of her company. She was chaotic, he was orderly, but he appreciated the appeal. Who knows, he could be chaotic if he wanted. An Arkanian chooses their path, their desire and intellect the driving the force. As she mentioned the blaster, he scoffed.

"Those sorts of weapons are for the help and the police. Low stations, like their weapons..." He smiled as he stood up, pressing his form against her sitting position. "I'll have you know. I was first among saber combatants in my class..." he held up his hand, gesturing with five fingers. "Five years in a row. There's not a member of the Adasca family that can boast more skill or grace with a sword."

He wasn't exactly sure that retiring for the evening or going on a tour implied a difference in energy. The way he saw it, if the tone kept on, the former might not leave a lot of room for rest. If he decided he was up for the task, though he hadn't come to that conclusion quite yet. But it was hard to for an artist to deny beauty, especially on such a canvas. Pulling another pill from his pocket holder, he crunched down as he stared towards the woman with a particular violet intensity. He felt the blood of royalty rush through him as he offered a hand, intent on flashing his crest once more with a casual and lazy demeanor. "You choose? I have energy. How it's spent..." He smirked. "That's up to you."

[member="Zola"]​

 

[Zola]

“Five years in a row...look at you,” Zola quipped with an amused grin and a tiny roll of her eyes. “I suppose I don’t need to bring my lightsaber, then. Low weapons or not, if we are chosen to explore the Hellhoop, you’ll probably need to pack a blaster or two, Mister Adasca.”

Yes, she was mocking him, but just slightly. She gave him a knowing wink, one so deliberate it scrunched up her nose.

“But it’s good to know that you’re skilled with your sword.”

The Dark Jedi hopped off the bar stool, and steadied herself on the rim of the bar. Those Flameouts hit her equilibrium hard. The Hapan watched Akatan take another synthetic pick-me-up, noting how his purple irises took on a violent fire when the drug hit his system. The quirky Arkanian did have quite an addiction to those things. That was fine, she had addictions, too. Ones he could certainly help with. She was sure that Token wouldn’t mind. They came together to satisfy needs, but neither women were the "settling down" type.

“I get to choose? How generous of you. Why don’t we kill two mynocks with one stone and do both? You can give me a tour of the bedrooms, and then we’ll call it a night.”

Zola ran her fingers through her slightly messy brown hair, tossing it over her petite shoulders. She took his hand, flashy ring and all, and weaved her fingers through his.

“Whatever that means.”

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Generous. Yes, he was. The thought bounced around for a bit, wondering if he had forsaken the attributes of the Arkania culture that laid foundation for his upbringing. Xenophobia ran thick, like tar, through the heritage and in many circles, was thought to be the reason for the races successes in society. Everyone held at arms length for their inferiority, secrets kept within the family and the overarching tone that no one was as good as an Arkania, it was simple economics. The burden of being worthy lied in everyone else, attempting through their lives to crest the pinnacle as Akatan, as the Arkanians, had done in the many thousands of years of development preceding these moments. Evolution was random and not always beneficial, except for in the pale eyes and white hair of the frosty species. For them, it seemed that the Force itself had come down and guided progression with a steady hand and stalwart intent towards apex.

But the woman in front of him, those big doe eyes and enticing flesh, her messy hair and frolicking sort of ways. The chaos called to him, a long drawn out moan in the dark. He could stay in his tower, dismissive with foots steps dogged by an indestructible respectability, but that didn't seem fun. Was fun what he needed, what the Adasca family needed? No, but then again, his desires came before the family needs. That was the fact of the matter and as the most important member of the family, his benefits would trickle down to the rest. They might get the bits, the bones and scraps, but they would respect it either way. No, whether it was fun or not, his desire would reign over the training in his life. Ever bit of lesson telling him to guide this woman to one of the many rooms and wish her a good night, every bit of insight telling him that she was dangerous, and he turned his nose to it. No one would tell him what to do, especially those whispering senses of morality and ethics. What he did would invariably be of the highest ethics and morality simply because he was the one to do it. Cyclical mentality for a life that cycles.

Tilting his head to her mocking, as gentle as it may have been, she might suffer for it. But life was suffering, it was the intrigue between jovial times that emphasized those moments of joy. The very interaction, bitter and sweet, might very well give every moment of life its own a bit of zest. Every moment given it's due, bleak or bright. He wondered where these moments would land.

"A tour it is then..." He said with a grin, lips pulled to the corner of his mouth, as he led her to the lift that would ascend into the upper echelons of the New Arkanian Legacy. Pressing his fingers against the ceramic switch, plate of etched gold with dragons and chemical structures of diamonds, the repulsors kicked on and began the vertical movement. Turning to her, he held one hand behind his back, the other laced fingers with hers. "I've never killed a mynock before." He admitted, though he wasn't really one to do the killing in most cases. He could hire people for that sort of grimy business, more likely to keep his hands clean. He inspected her again with a forthright glance, prolonged for his own appreciation. Business partners.

[member="Zola"]​