Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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R U Mine?

[member="Octavia Dominia"]

He didn’t mention that one of his associates had stolen that same statue quite some time ago, it wouldn’t have added anything useful to the conversation and in the end she would notice it missing herself when she arrived there. Location was still the same so the information wouldn’t have made any difference anyway, gave her a nod and was about to depart when she walked up and… kissed his cheek.

Long after she was gone Khaleel patted the spot softly, wondering what it meant and the conclusions he was drawing were all pretty dangerous. Not as dangerous as the hornet’s nest he was going to approach in a second or two. Part of Khal was a bit disappointed that Octavia didn’t try to go with him, part of him had expected her to be less reasonable about such a thing.

I am a strong independant woman, and I need no man guarding me!

Brought a smile to his lips and he soldiered on, he would first need to take a visit to their armory. Clear out the men there and get a good rifle, didn’t matter how good Khaleel was, a single revolver with only four bullets left wouldn’t do much good to him.
 
As Octavia neared the exit, the flashing neon lights from the sector pulsed like beacons, seductively beckoning to her. This way to your warm apartment, your luxurious bed where you can sleep to your heart’s content. This way to a nice stiff drink to wash the evening away, or some painkillers for your throbbing head. She paused at the stairs, head titled in thought, but found she was inexplicably unable to climb them to the surface.

The young woman couldn't bring herself to leave him down here. It was too premature for betrayal, although that would certainly come later. Dropping her ruined shoes at the foot of the stairs, Octavia padded through the darkness in her bare feet, her blaster raised, safety off, hoping to catch a glimpse of blonde hair and soiled duster.

Something told her if she approached him, he’d only send her away again, so when the infochant caught sight of him around a corner she hung back, hushed as a snake in a shed. Pursuing him from afar could ensure not only his safety, but it could also reveal some useful information. And after all, the details were what she was after, wasn’t it?

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

Khaleel was far too busy with the adrenaline coursing through his veins to notice the little stalker following him all sneakily like. He had managed to appropriate a proper rifle from the adjacent room they had used as armory, and it was worrying him - worrying him a lot. It was military-grade, Blastech, one of the better rifles he had the pleasure of wielding, and that shouldn’t be the case, all wrong.

Gangbangers like these schmucks shouldn’t be having this kind of action, especially not in the quantities found within their racks, meant they had support. Big support, and the more he thought about it the less he liked the idea of what it all meant. Rechecking the ammo for a second time, Khal finally skidded to a halt before the first big doors he encountered in the compound.

The bartender took a deep breath and pushed one of the doors open for an inch, peering through it and noticing - what seemed to be - the entire gang collected and listening to some kind of speech.

This was either a great opportunity, or an attempt at suicide. Before Khal could figure out which it was his instinct took over and he crept through the doors and entered the wide open room. This was going to be… fun? Yes, fun.
 
Making sure she hugged the corners, Octavia stayed almost unnaturally still as she shadowed Khaleel further through what she was now certain was a hideout. Her dark eyes watched him rifle through a weapons cache and pull out a rifle, pausing to inspect its make and push a magazine of ammunition into it. Malvern's head spun her way, and she quickly took cover behind her dark corner. That was too close. He continued down the corridor, checking the ammo once again, then came to a set of doors.

He pushed against them, and leaned his head in for a few moments. Then he disappeared inside. The infochant felt a lump crawl up in her throat and get stuck there. She braced herself for the inevitable sound of blaster fire, but when she heard nothing, she tiptoed to the door.

Taking a deep breath, she hesitated for a moment. Do you really want to gamble your life on this handsome street rat? Now was not the time for questions, she decided. Now was the time to spin the wheel. Here goes nothing. She slipped in behind him.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

She would walk into hell, or a close representation of it. Moment she pushed the door open and explosion went off right in the middle of the gathering, body parts flying around, screams filled the room and yet Khaleel was not done. Not even close to done, bullets were ricocheting across the room, impossible angles and every shot got a hit, sometimes multiple hits at once.

Impossibility, it was a definition Khaleel did not work with anymore. The shooting would continue, but as more thugs were run down the fight was getting out of them, they tried to flee; other doors - other escape routes.

Some simply got on their knees, hoping to be spared.

But there was no mercy to be found. In a different tale, a different world, Khaleel might have spared them, maybe if he had been a better man… he might have spared them too. But he was just a guy, a guy with a rifle in his hands and a lot of questions to ask.

A guy whose territory had been violated and when people were sent for negotiations, heads had been returned to him. A guy… who had been in hell and had come back changed, this man did not have any mercy.

At the end only a single soul was left, clutching his knee in the corner of a downslope, it was the leader. The man with the plan, the guy who might have an idea what this was all about. Khaleel dropped the rifle, ammo was spend anyway and instead drew his revolver crossing the distance towards the man with the plan.

Octavia’s presence was left unnoticed by him for the moment.
 
When a massive explosion suddenly rocked the meeting room, Octavia hit the deck, flattening herself to the floor and covering her head with her arms. When the dust settled, she raised her head and grimaced. It was a gruesome scene. The bodies that lay on the floor were miles from anything resembling humanity, and in the midst of it all stood one lone gunman, unleashing hell on whoever was left standing. This was no ordinary, everyday Nar Shaddaa, goon with street name. Malvern was much more than that. No wonder Bane needed an eye on him.

Once his carnage was over, Khaleel stalked towards the last survivor of his siege, a grovelling mess of a gang leader. A part of her wanted to rise to her feet, level her blaster and take him out herself. After all, she most likely had been drugged and kidnapped on his orders. She stopped herself. This was Malvern’s show. She was just an audience.


Rising to her hands and knees, she crept her way behind a security terminal and watched the theatrics.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

There were no theatrics.

'Name.'

's-screw you.'

A shot rang out, a pained whine came next.

'Name.'

'Screw your mother!'

Khaleel raised the revolver for another shot, but thought better of it. Instead he leaned in and whispered something in the thug's ear, at once the facial expression changed. Pain, fury, indignanty was forgotten, there was only fear and perhaps some measure of respect. He whispered something back, his brow arched signifying a question. Khal noticably took a few seconds to mull it over before giving a short nod. The thug, satisfied, leaned it and started whispering furiously; every once in a while trying to wave to designate something important. Finally, out of sight he retrieved something from his pocket and Khaleel made it disappear.

Standing up, the Underlord gave one final nod before shooting the thug in the head, clean shot. Instant death and no more pain.

The one thing Octavia would see, the one thing that should rightfully scare her as Khaleel turned around and she got a good look st his face, was his eyes. They were not the eyes of a mad man, no fury spoke of them or any other form of heavy emotions. His hands did not shake and all in all he was the picture of calmness.
 
From her vantage point, Octavia was unable to see exactly what it was that the marked man gave to Khaleel Malvern. She sure was curious about it though. Once he disposed of the snivelling gang leader, an event that was easy to predict, he turned and she felt a cold chill ripple down her spine. To some men, killing was an opium. To others it was a remorseful necessity. To Khaleel it was just another day at the office. The crime boss was as calm as dark, tranquil sea, no remorse nor emotion present on his handsome face.

Octavia carefully positioned herself around the side of the security terminal. The new plan was to trail Khaleel to wherever he was headed next, to suss out his next move, and maybe find out a bit more about that mystery item in his pocket. As she stepped to the side, her bare foot made contact with a sharp piece of blast debris, and it was sliced open. It was not a deep cut, but very painful one. Khaleel would hear a woman’s voice letting out a sharp cry from the darkness behind him.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

I thought I told ya to get your ass outta here.’ his voice was steady, calm. Khaleel had turned around, his revolved aimed at the spot where the source had come from. Had been instincts that had almost forced him to take two shots, just to be sure it wasn’t a threat, had been difficult to resist. But managed it just yet.

Was the danger of operating in full adrenaline mode, operating on instincts… ya do shet ya would regret later. Khaleel holstered the revolver for now and casually walked over to where Octavia was, waiting for her reply.
 
As he whirled around to face her, Octavia instinctively raised her trembling arms and aimed her blaster at Khaleel in turn. Given Malvern’s massacre of the entire room a few minutes earlier, the young woman was taking no chances. The wheels turned quickly in her mind. The Promenade Princess hadn’t bet on getting caught spying on him so didn’t have a silver-tongued excuse at the ready. Time to improvise.

“Did you now?” she said. “I don’t work for you just yet, Mr. Malvern,” explained Octavia from behind her weapon. Then gave him a crooked smile. Could be a friendly one. Could be a warning.

“I’m not sure you’re in a place to give me any orders until I’m on your payroll.”

Khaleel lowered his firearm, and she slowly let her blaster drop with a relieved sigh. As he took a few steps forward, she took a few back. Her injured foot sang out in pain, but she paid it no mind. She swallowed perceptibly, then put on her best dumb infobunny act, wide eyes, full lips slightly parted, a coy tilt of the head.

“Such an impressive show of force, Mr. Malvern. Kind of makes a girl all hot and bothered.”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

That gave him a thought, a ponder, a consideration if you will and he voiced it out loud as he scratched his chin. ‘I suppose you aren’t on my payroll right now, you are right.’ the pondering came with a slight shrug and suddenly Khaleel’s form blurred, as from his perspective the whole world came to a screeching halt and from Octavia’s perspective perspective Khaleel became a wisp.

His first move disarmed her, blaster flew out into the darkness, his second move grabbed her by the throat and crashed her into the wall. They were intimately close right now, barest of fabric separating them. She would now notice something else, his duster had been discarded in the fight and his sleeves were rolled up - on his arm there were tattoos, ancient markings in a language long since dead perhaps, but the most strangest thing of them all… they seemed to be moving at their own leisure.

Khal’s face moved in close, his eyes suddenly looking more blue than before. More vibrant and live, but his expression was still calm and collected.

Do I have your attention?
 
Octavia never saw it coming when Khaleel came on like a lightning strike. She heard herself cry out. Her blaster left her fingers and clattered onto the floor. One nanosecond later, his hand was around her throat, slamming her back against the wall. His grip on her throat was tight enough for her to gasp for air. Something about the way he had said “my payroll,” made her think...no, he couldn’t have suspected something already.

His chest pressed against hers, she could feel the trace of his muscles against her torso. Her eyes grew larger as they flashed down to his moving tattoos. Now that was some very strange magic right there. She hadn’t seen anything like it in all her time dealing with the city’s manyalchemists and hedge witches. Face hovering a mere centimeters away from hers he asked her a simple question:

“Do I have your attention?”

She gripped his shoulders, and shoved her knee upwards aiming right for his manhood. It was a dirty trick she had employed on many in the past, and it was usually a pretty disabling move. However, pinned against the wall, her face force to stare into his livid blue eyes, she was fully aware that Khaleel Malvern was not your usual gangster.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

He had been expecting it, some part of him had hoped in vain she would be smarter than it. But perhaps when you found yourself into such a situation logic and rationality no longer played the defining factor in one's decision making process, Khal wouldn't know. It was in these kind of situations he felt most alive, life or death, up or down, end or continuation. So when she tried to slam her knee into his sensitive parts the guy reacted accordingly, it hit something, but that something was his other hand roughly shoving it back into place. Instead he himself put a knee between her legs, folding the distance. No kicks anymore.

'A nod will do. Last time, do I have your attention?'

The Underlord did not threaten, that was beneath him. She had seen what he was capable of and that was enough threat in itself.
 
A small cry escaped her throat as Khaleel thrust his knee forward between her legs, preventing any more low blows from happening. She simply could not compete with the preternatural speed with which he moved. Her chest rising and falling in double-time, Octavia vehemently nodded her head when he repeated his question. The infochant had been in situations like these before, not quite like this one, but close. Instances in which she was a heartbeat away from embracing the Maker. She was always able to talk her way out of it, screw her way out of it, fight her way out it. There was no way she was going to die in this wretched place. The way out was there, yet it was eclipsed by blue eyes she couldn’t turn away from.

Her eyes pleading, she spoke up in a whisper, her voice husky. “What are you doing, Mr. Malvern?" she coughed. "I am not the enemy here.” She tried to make it sound like shocked indignation. Not an easy task with his strong hand around her throat. It came out like more of a croak, but she kept talking.

“I had to follow you. If I am to work for you, I needed to know what I was getting myself into.”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

'Miss. Dominia.' he still seemed very calm, it was almost eerie at this point. 'You listen, I talk. This frantic asscovering does not become you.' not that she was given the opportunity to calm down or anything, he didn't need her balanced or collected, Khal simply needed her lucid enough to understand the situation she was currently in and acknowledge it as one fekked situation. They would work from there.

'I like you, as a person and as a businesswoman, I want to work with you.' a soft musing. 'In more ways then one. But you are lying to me and holding back. Now, I am not an unreasonable man. Simply an extreme one, when pushed.'

'It is time to choose, my fair lady.' his hand clenched down just slightly, a reminder. 'Do you want to work for me? Or do you want to work for a big blue gay Chiss, who is on his way out already?'

'Remember, don't lie. I don't appreciate being taken for a fool.'
 
Unfortunately for the Promenade Princess, Khaleel wasn’t buying any of what the infochant was selling. As his voice ricocheted through her adrenaline soaked brain, Octavia’s eyes searched his. His eyes were empty, just like the moments right after he had disposed of all of entire room of gangsters. For the first time during their meeting, she genuinely felt afraid for her life. Her dark pupils were dilated with fear, her body taut in his grip.

When Malvern squeezed down on her windpipe, her hand involuntarily shot up to try and yank it off, but as his strength outweighed hers, it was a futile attempt. Then Khaleel mentioned the person she had hoped he wouldn’t mention. The Chiss bastard she was in cahoots with. Her breaths quickened. The whole ruse was slipping through her fingers like sand, and she was desperate to get it under control again.

Finally she spoke, keeping her voice as level as a trained actress, her knitted brows the only outward sign of her fear.

“Mr. Malvern, you insult me,” the infochant said disdainfully. “I have never even met the man. And even if I did, I wouldn’t work for him. Sure he probably pays more than you do, but that pretty boy Chiss is just a poser on these sector corners. Nar Shaddaa will eat Cryax Bane alive, and as I’m sure you’ve heard, I don’t align myself with the losing team, Khaleel.”

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

Her eyes searched his and his searched hers, but in the end he judged her a liar nonetheless. This was the entire thing, at this point in time Khaleel was the Judge, Jury and the Executioner, no one would care if Octavia disappeared. Oh, sure. There would be questions raised, some allies would be disgruntled, but they had both been kidnapped. They had managed to escape and tried to fight their way out of the prison, in the end the Promenade Princess had been killed in action.

A painful and teary way to leave this world, but it was plausible and that was what Khaleel was working with, plausible. He derived no pleasure from this decision, but the Netherworld had taught him that sometimes you needed to be ruthless… that sometimes the best decision was to cut off a problem, before it became a problem.

He quietly nodded, more to himself than her and then roughly spun her around. Bending her towards the wall, his revolver firmly placed on the back of her head. Malvern did not spare any words, no threats, he had crossed her off already. Instead the only thing she would hear was the click of the revolver’s hammer setting in place.

She might have one more moment to change his mind.
 
Stress was causing Octavia’s thoughts to jump tangentially from one to the next, so using the Force to mask her mind from the Jedi was futile. The gang leader knew. He knew about that meeting on Aduba III where she’d drank cognacs with the Chiss at Locru’s Saloon. He knew about the job she was given, to join the ranks of the Exchange and spy on the shaggy blonde crime boss, in order to find out if Mr. Bane’s new “ally” was plotting something nefarious against him. At this point right now, Octavia was most definitely on the wrong person’s payroll, and she was out of mental alibis that put her far from the Chiss in question.

Malvern quickly spun her around and forced her down on her knees in front of the wall. She could feel the cold metal of the gun nudging the back of her head. It was hail-mary time.

“Ok, ok, I’ll come clean.” she admitted, her voice full of panic, her fingers clenched on her thighs. “I am working for the Chiss.” There, she said it. “He wanted you watched, and knew I was the girl to do it. Are you satisfied now, Mr. Malvern?”

“Do with me what you will. Just remember, karma can be a queen.”

And so could she.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 
[member="Octavia Dominia"]

The gun stayed there for a while still, moments trickled by and then a click was heard, not the click of the hammer settling down. But a more mechanical click, the origin of the sound would have to be kept ambiguous for now, not that Octavia would particularly care. She was probably too busy singing praises at the distinct feeling of the revolver being removed from the back of her head.

She was pulled up to her feet, pressed against the wall and Khaleel stepped in to fill the void. His voice was now a whisper, as husky as it had been then, as husky as her own voice was a few moments ago. Lips barely touched her neckline.

Now was that so hard?’ Khal asked rhetorically, going on further without waiting for a possible reply. ‘You will keep working for him, the first few times you will report useful intel. It will cause a big shipment to be lost here and there, just enough for him to believe you are tightly ingrained into my organization, but not enough for me to be tipped off or become suspicious.’

His hand ran down.

The Sun always rises, miss Dominia.’ the Underlord finally whispered, revealing who and what he was to her. It was just the tip and few would believe her, but she would know now with whom she had been trying to feck. ‘Don’t give me the suspicion, and as you see I am a suspicious man, that you are again trying to play me for a fool again.’
 
Octavia could almost feel fate smiling as the barrel of the gun was lifted. One strap of her dress fell down her shoulder as her posture slumped in relief. Her head fell forward, her forehead resting against the wall, its cool surface almost a comfort. Lips parted and mouthed the words, “thank the Maker” as she heard the hammer settling. Then the Promenade Princess was hauled her to her bare feet and spun her back around against the wall, facing him.

Khaleel came in close, his hot breath tickling her slender neck. In spite of herself, she let out an involuntary purr at his body pressed against hers. “Woman, the man just tried to execute you.” she could hear her girlfriends’ protest. But Octavia liked dangerous men. They were eternally her weakness, and would most likely be her downfall.

The infochant listened carefully to his new directive. As she puzzled it all together, she wondered if perhaps she had been betting on the wrong blue horse. Or perhaps, she could even play them both until she figured out which one was going to cross the finish line. Either way, it would make an intriguing game, and Octavia loved to play.

When he was finished, she gave him a half smile. “I think we both know that the only fool in this scenario is Mr. Bane.” she said, brushing her fingers along his chest and down to his arms, where his tattoos undulated on his skin.

“But a beautiful woman will always be suspicious, Mr. Malvern.” she added. “And I can’t help what I am.”

Then she tilted her head in and softly pressed her cherry-scented lips against his.

[member="Khaleel Malvern"]
 

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