[Republic] Cat Fight

[Sarge Potteiger]

With a shallow nod of his head, he acknowledged her understanding and gave himself the silence to establish that no more explanation was going to happen. "You're going to meet Diana." He says, sliding a finger under his hood to press against his ear. Some mumbling was heard before he nodded and let his hand fall.

"I'll be taking you to a nearby landing pad where a shuttle will be picking us up. From there, I'll get in contact with Master Moridena and we'll see what we can do for you."

Chuckling faintly, the man shook his head. "A pregnant woman, an assassin and potentially a cat-woman. What a trio we would make." Laughing to himself, a noise which rumbled up from within his chest, he moved to exit the arena through the tunnels. Inside, the last of the slaves were being ushered out by Republic soldiers.

Cages and weapon stands lined the walls which made him shake his head, but he kept his words to himself. It wasn't going on here, not right now. No doubt someone would come back and restart this at another juncture, but that time wasn't today. Probably not for a few months, at least, just so they knew they'd be safe.

"Tell me about yourself." He says, "Diana will likely want to know, so best if I can get it out of the way early."

 

[Marakai Al'Orren]

Mara managed to nod and keep up, hopping alternately on one foot and then the other to get her boots on her feet. The laces she left loose for the time being, as they were nearly worn out and getting shorter every time she tried to tie them. A threadbare jacket that used to be her favorite shade of blue dangled around her wrist as she tucked her hands in her pockets. Her right hand closed around the tiny holocube and its chain therein, making her sigh softly with relief. It was the only thing she had of value, and the only thing that meant anything to her at all.

"Sounds good to me," she replied, adding a nod as he glanced - well, turned his masked and hooded visage vaguely in her direction. "We can go straight there. There's nothing I really want to take with me."

"A case study for the mind healers, I'm sure...or the beginning of a joke. So a pregnant woman, an assassin, and a cat walked into a bar...ought to have a good punch line, right?" Mara's smile faltered as she tilted her head back to look up at the cloud-shrouded sky. The lights in this district were sketchy at best, either dim or not working at all, so she allowed her eyes to slide back into their feline color and shape.

"I was born on Felacat, was raised by my mom, and no, I don't know who my dad is. Mom kept that secret to herself. Got a horde of cousins who would beat the ever-loving crap out of me at every opportunity. I learned to fight back. Didn't learn to shift until I was eight, but now its as easy as breathing. Doesn't hurt at all...only the partial changes do. She died last year, they took her, buried her, banned me from the funeral, and then exiled me from Felacat less than a week after her funeral and The Incident. They don't really like humans, and they loathe half-breeds. I'm the ugly blotch on the family tree they don't like to talk about. Got on a transport and got as far as here. Been stuck ever since."

Her shoulders tensed as she shoved her hands deeper in her pockets, staring straight ahead as they walked. Her wrists ached just to remind her how bad things had gotten, eliciting a wince as she pulled her hands out of her pockets. Mara instead shrugged into her jacket and popped the collar up around her neck to cover it. The scars on her wrists weren't the only ones she bore, but they were the only ones she could talk about.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

@[member="Marakai Al'Orren"]

"I figured there wasn't anything, which is why I didn't ask. If you have to fight to survive, you don't generally have much going for you." It didn't even sound like an insult, the way he said it, although he would imagine she'd prickle a little bit at the words. There wasn't anything he could do about it, himself.

"Can't imagine the punchline will be anything good.", he admits, chuckling as he stepped from the tunnels and onto one of the many thoroughfares of the massive city. Taking a sharp turn into the funneling crowds, he maneuvered his way through the masses with an effortless ease.

It was almost like they didn't even know the man was there. He was a quiet gap in the teeming throngs, an icebreaker that wasn't there. "I'll be sure to tell her that. Your name? I can't remember if you've told me or not."

 

[Marakai Al'Orren]

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

"Might not be good, but it could be funny." Mara managed a smile, her arms crossed over her chest as they walked. Her mind wandered as they briefly fell silent. Wandered in some...less than pure, and certainly less than Jedi-like directions. She was already terrible at this.

But it was still 'right'...and every internal prompting and instinct was telling her the same thing. Even her beast was sat still, curled up in the back of her head, purring with relative contentedness. She'd still need to be let out within the next day or so...but this time, she would wait.

That was a gift Mara wasn't going to ignore.

"I neverrr told you, because you neverrr asked...my name is Marrrakai Al'Orrrren. But...I usually go by Marrra." she replied, taking advantage of his epic crowd parting ability to walk freely in the teeming mass of sentients for the first time since she'd been there.

"And you?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

@[member="Marakai Al'Orren"]

"Preacher. They call me Preacher." He says quietly. No name, no face. That was as far from typical Jedi as you got. They were proud defenders of the galaxy, but even the most ardent peacekeepers had the eccentric ones in their organization. Was nothing wrong with it, not in his opinion, but some would always find you strange.

Nothing he could do about it but prove them right. "A pleasure, Mara." He says quietly, his rasp turning the 'r' into more of a growl, although only the faintest.

Shrugging a bit, he hangs another sharp turn towards the landing pads, although they'd need to cross through some gang territory to get there. But they'd not have a problem. So many Republic soldiers around would make this a smooth trip for the last five minutes or so.

 

[Marakai Al'Orren]

"Pleasurrre is mine, Prreacherrr."

Mara's voice threaded through the air beside him, amber eyes glancing up at his masked visage briefly. Soon enough they went back to the path that kept clearing itself in front of them. She'd have to see about taking him with her wherever she went...this was a distinctly useful trick she really needed to learn. Generally, crowds didn't part for her unless she either roared, shapeshifted, or both.

Preacher...it was certainly an interesting name. There had to be a story behind it, she mused. Perhaps at some point she'd ask about it.

For now though, Mara watched as the throngs thinned out, to be replaced by more Republic soldiers. Some in body armor, others in utilitarian uniforms. Would that Nar Shaddaa had this kind of force around all the time. It might not have been such a bad place to live. As it was, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd gone through this particular neighborhood without getting into some sort of altercation.

Altercations that never went in the gang members' favor. They might have been on their home turf with weapons available...but she was an apex predator. One that knew and employed tactics similar to theirs every day just to survive in the arena. Nevermind how she'd survived on Felacat.

"That it up ahead?"

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

@[member="Marakai Al'Orren"]

"I'd have it no other way.", he muses, voice carrying the hint of wry amusement on it. This particular area had the closest landing pads to their raids, and so it had been cleaned out thoroughly for the moment to allow the Jedi and Republic soldiers clear access. That, and when the sting had gone down most had cleared out.

Gangers weren't too intelligent, but they were bright enough to survive. It's exactly why you could never get rid of them forever.

In fact, they'd be crawling back through here the moment the last ship pulled out. The Republic was just doing this to remind the slummers that the old people in charge had been replaced. A new government was in town.

Not that they'd do much provided no Republic personnel got hurt. Perking up a bit, he nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

Sure enough, there ahead was a large circular pad extended out above the gaping chasm between buildings - nestled upon it was a single dropship, engines screaming even as it idled. "That's our ticket off this rock." He says, picking his pace up a little bit.

 

[Marakai Al'Orren]

She kept up by lengthening her stride, letting her movements slide towards feline rather than keeping them strictly human. It turned her walk into more of a stalking, predatory movement, which was only enhanced by the burnished gold slits her eyes had become. There might have been Republic soldiers swarming the immediate vicinity of the dropship, but she knew Nar Shaddaa like the back of her hand.

And she didn't trust anyone in it as far as she could through them, anymore. Eric had been the last one she'd trusted, and all she'd gotten for her trouble was an overdose of ketamine and rage issues for the next month. The fool had thought to drug her and take her off-world to the underground fighting circuits, only he hadn't counted on how the sedative would affect her hybrid system. Someone had sold him below grade ketamine and a collar that shattered apart when she shapeshifted. He'd barely had time to scream.

Mara shuddered briefly as they passed a boarded up building that still had biohazard tape wrapped around it. Though she'd been beyond control, the memory still made her decidedly sick. She ran into Preacher's back as he stopped at the cordon around the buildings supporting the landing pad. One of the soldiers glanced past him and eyes her carefully.

"Weapons?" he asked, lofting a brow at her.

Mara smirked, the expression wicked on her features. Eyes glowing gold in the light, she held up her hand and partially shifted it, the joints lengthening in almost garish manner as her nails grew into solid claws. "I am one. Does that count?" she replied, maybe a bit too tartly, but she just couldn't help herself.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Her and I both." Sarge says, voice perfectly deadpan. There was a pause as the soldier seemed to stare at the curiously garbed Jedi before he snorted and gave a nod. A thumb was hiked in the direction of the idling ship, even as the soldier shook his head at the dirty woman plowing into the back of the Jedi.

"Go'on."

His head dropped, staring down at her hands. "Where we're going, that sort of thing won't fly. Keep the showboating to a minimum." The irony that he was a man dressed in full beskar with blood red robes didn't fall short of his understanding. His eyes lifted, glaring momentarily at her before he shook his head, walking past the guard.

The closer they got the heavier the noise from the engines became until it shook the very core of his being. Stepping up the ramp, he stopped halfway and held onto a pneumatic piston that would raise and lower the metal slab. "Get on." He says, tilting his head to give her the go ahead to climb aboard.

It was time to get into orbit, and it was time to get out of this karkhole.