Private Scrap Chase

[Hekate]

Hekate sighed getting hungry as she continued to dig through the trash heap outside an electronics store in the back alleys of Nar Shaddar. Hekate didn't understand this foul city, that stank, where life was cheap, drugs were cheaper and other depravities cost even less. She was surviving the only way she could. Hiding.

No one paid attention to a street trash scavenger. Though as part of her disguise she'd had to make herself less pretty. Pretty was dangerous in the undercity. Currently she was wearing an oversized coat she had stolen of a homeless man on death sticks. She felt bad about that, but she had to do what she had to do to survive in this harsh, brutal, unforgiving world. It also covered up her favourite jacket and her crystal necklace. She liked those things, but showing them off life she wanted to was dangerous. Someone could steal the crystal. She saw someone die in a bar fight over a drink once. A crystal on a pretty girl? That was deadly.

Hekate shivered from the cold, wondering if she should give up and go home. Home being an abandoned warehouse where mostly street kids stayed. They let Hekate stay cause her powers looked pretty when she played with the young ones.

Hekate digged through the trash heap of… circuit boards? Or were they power cells? Hekate didn't know, the fact that she didn't know frustrated her. She was sick of not knowing anything. Not knowing about this galaxy, not knowing about technology, not knowing where her next meal might be from. She was hoping one of these things would light up. That meant it still had power she knew that much. Then maybe she could sell it or more likely trade it for some food. There was a Crolute who traded parts for food rations, but only if they lit up. She only knew he was called a Crolute because one of the other scavengers cursed him out for being a cheap sleemo.

"Crolute" Hekate sounded the word out again making sure she got it right. She hated when they laughed at her for not saying it right in her accent, or worse getting angry with her for it. Hekate didn't know if she was ever going to run into another 'Crolute', but if she was she'd know what they were.

Hekate was learning, learning as fast as she could. Well as fast as she could without talking to anyone, by listening, watching. She wished she could ask someone how to teach her about technology. Hekate sighed and continued to dig.

Nel Warren

 

[Nel Warren]

I walk through these alleys as if crossing a cesspit: every step feels like an insult to my very being. The ground clings to my boots, slick with oil and other fluids I'd rather not identify. The walls are covered in crude graffiti and burn marks, traces of explosions, blaster fire, or simply a complete lack of dignity. This city is an open wound, festering in plain sight, and yet it swarms with life. Low, crawling life that feeds on scraps like worms in a carcass.

I glance up at a flickering neon sign above a half-collapsed bar. It promises cheap beer and easy credits, but all I see are silhouettes clinging to their vices. Their eyes are dull, glassy, defeated. No spark, no ambition. Nothing but puppets too weak to rebel and too cowardly to die. It disgusts me… but, in its way, it amuses me too.

A child if such a hollow thing can still be called that crosses my path. His eyes freeze for a fraction of a second on the weapon at my hip. That's all it takes: he knows what it is. He pales and bolts into a side alley, like a rat fleeing the shadow of a predator. A small smile curls my lips.

I move on, my steps echoing through the chaos of clattering machinery, distant wails, and muffled screams behind closed doors. The wind shifts, carrying the stench of scorched metal, rotten food, and decomposing flesh. I have known mass graves that were more pleasant than this.

At the corner of a street, I notice a mound of broken electronics. Split circuits, torn casings, the husks of dead droids. Two shapes scurry there, rummaging like starving dogs after bones. Their movements are frantic, their dirty hands trembling with desperation at the thought of finding something useful. I watch them for a moment, then look away. They're nothing. Fleeting shadows.

"Damn it, There really is nothing interesting in this slum."

I murmur under my breath, my voice dripping with disdain. Still, I keep moving, slowly, letting my gaze slip from alley to alley. The shadows are teeming, but I'm searching for something else. Not these broken bodies gnawed by hunger and fear. No… I want something someone that's actually worth the hunt.

Hekate

 

[Hekate]

Hekate was struggling to lift up a piece of scrap. She had seen something blinking with lights on it. Something she could maybe sell. Hekate grunted struggled growing increasingly frustrated. She dropped the scrap with a huff. It crashed back down. She hoped she hadn't damaged the thing with the blinking lights. She needed something to trade.

Hekate glanced around nervously hoping no one could see her. What she was about to do was risky. She'd only showed it to the kids by accident and had sworn them to secrecy. On this planet it'd make her a curiosity. A curiosity worth selling.

I think the coast is clear

Hekate liked that phrase. She used it often in her own mind. Some of the kids used it or 'all clear' when on lookout on a petty theft raid. She preferred the full sentence. It reminded her of beaches. She'd seen some in a holovid and they looked magical.

Hekate sighed and reluctantly stopped thinking about white sandy beaches from grainy hollovids. She bent down and started to whisper.

"Cratus, Cratus, Cratus." Hekate started trying to lift as she chanted hoping the spell would work. It didn't.

"CRATUS!" Hekate screamed. Nothing happened.

Hekate dropped the scrap again. She started crying sobbing quietly to herself. It was pointless she was going to die anyway. She might as well give up. Maybe she should just have a death stick and sell herself back into slavery.

She screamed in frustrated and lashed her hands down and out red misty energy swirling around her hands, floating a few centimetres in front of her grabbed the piece of scrap. She threw it down the alley. It made a resounding crash. Hekate grabbed the thing with the blinking lights.

Hekate glanced around.

Someone will have heard that.

Hekate saw a woman starring at her.

Nel Warren

 

[Nel Warren]

I walk at a steady pace down the alley, hands in my pockets, my gaze sliding from one grimy wall to the other. The smell of burnt oil and mildew clings to my throat, but I don't slow down. It's always the same here: a parade of pitiful silhouettes rummaging, begging, or dying in silence. Nothing new… until something brushes past me.

A piece of scrap metal bursts out of the trash heap, hurled with violence. I don't even flinch. I take a step forward, half-pull one hand from my pocket and, with a sharp motion, intercept the projectile. The impact snaps in the air, just a simple bonk, ridiculous compared to what it could have been. I let the metal drop to the ground, where it crashes down with useless noise.

My eyes lock immediately on the culprit. She's there, still crouched near the debris, a girl with cheeks hollowed by hunger, wrapped in a coat far too big for her. Her eyes are red from effort and tears, but more than that… I feel that vibration. That wasn't an ordinary throw. The air around her still carries the trace of it: raw, uncontrolled energy but very real.

I smile, a faint curl at the corner of my lips. That makes this alley far more interesting. I step forward slowly, unhurried, my footsteps ringing against the scattered scrap. I look at her, letting her feel that I've seen her, truly seen her.

"Can I help you? You look lost."

I spot the blinking object she was trying to reach for easily enough. Seriously? She expects to survive off that…? How could a witch like her have ended up this low? I know other witches who've made something of themselves. It intrigues me. I keep walking, trampling over the sheet metal without a second thought, slipping my other hand back into my other pocket. Even if I wanted to sink my teeth into her right now, it wouldn't be all that interesting… No, I'll play this carefully.

Hekate

 

[Hekate]

Hekate froze unsure what to do. Usually this was the part where they yelled at her, chased her off. This woman was offering to help. Hekate bit her lip unsure of what to do. Should she trust her? Ask for food or maybe credits? She seemed nice. Hekate had learned the hard way that nice wasn't always the truth. Often they lied, often they were mean. A landlord who offered a place to stay for free, wanted a price to high to pay. A woman who offered her a job just wanted someone to steal for her, beat her when she didn't do well enough. A crodut who offered fair trade for scraps, she spent hours digging for took the best and threw the rest in the trash like they were nothing, giving her scraps for the scraps she worked so hard to get.

Hekate wished she could trust people like she used to. Back in her village with her family, her clan. How could she know she could trust this one.

Hekate took a deep breath and muttered a spell, praying that it would work as she did so

"Aletheia"

"Vhat do you vwant?" Hekate asked slowly carefully, sounding out the words, knowing her accent was thick for most people.

Hekate's eyes widened as the spell kicked in and her senses expanded. She felt the womans nature. She was hungry. Hungry for blood.

Hekate gasped and thrust her hands down, red energy launching her into the air out of the alley onto a rooftop. She ran. Tears in her eyes. She ran as she knew she should have done the first time that someone had caught her picking through scraps. She knew she shouldn't have trusted anyone. Everyone always wanted her for something. She just never imagined it would be her blood.

What kind of monster was hungry for blood?

It was something out of children's tales to scare the young ones. They had such tales in her village. She used to love them, laugh at them. Never thought they were real.

"Vampire." She whispered to herself.

Nel Warren

 

[Nel Warren]

The alley still trembled from her escape. Scrap rattled down the piles, a metallic clamor echoing long after she had vanished from sight. I remained still for a moment, breathing in the air she had disturbed. Panic hung in it sharp, acrid, tangled with the salt of tears. That scent lingered like a trail written for me alone.

Her reaction was… unexpected. Most scavengers, when they see me, freeze. Some beg, others posture until fear chokes them into silence. This one didn't wait. She fled because she knew. Not through logic, not through the crude instincts of an urchin no, she felt it. The hunger buried beneath my skin. The predator beneath the mask.

A quiet laugh escaped me, curling into the shadows.

"Vampire… how did she know who i am ? "

Nar Shaddaa groaned around me neon stuttering against walls slick with oil, gutters alive with whispering vermin. I stepped forward at last, my stride steady, deliberate. Each footfall struck the ground with the weight of inevitability. The city itself seemed to conspire, narrowing the alleys, dimming the lights, funnelling her toward me.

How had she done it? So untrained, so fragile, and yet she had seen straight through me. That spark was worth more than the blinking scrap she clutched to her chest. She was more than a rat among garbage; she was something alive, burning, dangerous in her own unshaped way. That made her precious. That made her mine.

My pace quickened, sliding through broken streets and hanging wires. Her presence pulled at me, stronger than any scent, a red thread woven through the filth of this world. She could run, stumble, climb it would not matter. The alleys would give her to me.

"Feed me," the words slipped out low, almost thoughtful, drifting into the dark. "And I'll tear you free from this cage. That's an honest deal no ? I have a ship, who can transport you where you want inside the galaxy. And, i can teach you, little more secret on the Force. If you follow me, but more you running, more i became angry. Keep this in mind. "

Shadows closed around me as I pursued, a patient tide advancing step by step. The hunt was alive now, and I had no intention of letting it end quickly. I want catch her, so i am going after her, when she start to try running away.

Hekate

 

[Hekate]

Hekate didn't care about anything but escaping. She didn't care where she was running to, only what she was running from. She tried to frantically remember everything she'd ever heard about vampires. They'd drink your blood. Turn you into their thralls, their slaves. Hekate had been through that before too many times to count in those dark years.

"I von't go back! I von't"

Hekate chanted to herself trying to believe the words even as fear, doubt and panic gripped her thundering heart. Hekate reached the end of the roof top and bit her lip. She could jump, but she didn't know if her powers would work again on command. Hekate turned around at the vampires voice.

"You vant me as your slave!" Hekate shouted back her voice uncertain red energy gathering around her hands. "I vill be no ones slave ever again!"

Hekate thrust her hands down again launching herself down into the street. She started running. The street she was on was empty, but just up ahead. There! A busy street. The street was packed with people Twi'lek dancers outside their clubs looking to entice passing males inside. Devaronian spice dealers. Falleen nobles. Hekate hesitated memories of slave dancing, a spice dealer offering her a hit in a back room, Falleen nobles bidding on her at auction.

Hekate glanced behind her biting her lip. That was the past ddanger and these were different people. Not to be trusted but not interested in her either. Right now the threat was the vampire chasing her.

Hekate opened her mouth to scream for help and hesitated this was Nar Shadar no one helped anyone on this planet. Durgs were cheap, life was cheaper. Still maybe if she got enough attention to herself the vampire would find prey with less attention.

"Help! Vampire!" Hekate screamed running through the empty street trying to get onto the main one.

Just a little further.

Hekate stumbled, tripped and fell hitting her head hard dazed. She groaned, tried to get to her feet, fell back down again.

No! I vill not be a slave! Not again!

Tears in her eyes she stumbled to her feet and started to wobble towards the main street.

"Help…. Vampire" she called out in a groan as she latched onto the first person she could find. It was the Falleen noble. He snarled in disgust and pushed her off of him. The Spice dealer laughed. The Twi'lek dancers cringed away.

"Vampire huh? Do you want another hit to make the vampire go away pretty girl?" The Devaronian laughed.

At pretty girl the Falleen noble stopped and gave her an appraising look like a merchant sizing up a product.

Hekate tried to crawl back to the alley. Maybe the vampire would be quicker.

Nel Warren

 

[Nel Warren]

Nar Shaddaa engulfs me in its noise and neon, but it's nothing more than a backdrop. The only spectacle worth watching plays out before me: a lost child, hunted, still clinging to the illusion that running matters. She stumbles, claws at strangers as if they were lifelines, but every hand that touches her recoils, pushes her away, mocks her. The Twi'leks laugh, the Devaronian jeers, the Falleen sizes her up like a damaged commodity. They understand nothing. Their eyes are blind, their judgment shallow. I see deeper: I feel the raw vibration boiling inside her, wild and untamed, the Force roaring in time with her fear and rage.

I advance without haste, each step ringing on the filthy durasteel like a heartbeat of inevitability. My hands remain buried in my pockets, my body loose, as though this hunt is nothing but a walk. The truth is, she's already mine. She can run, trip, struggle it's only a prelude to the moment when my fangs close. She doesn't yet understand, but her scent already clings to my senses, her sweat intoxicates me, the frantic rhythm of her footsteps has etched itself into my mind. Even her racing heart beats in my skull like an intimate melody. Nothing can erase that. She's written into me now, marked, forever retraceable.

A smile ghosts across my lips as my voice slips through the noise of the street, cutting clear, aimed only at her.
"You really think you can lose me? Your scent, your steps, your every twitch… they're already carved into me."

My gaze locks on her, pressing down harder than any hand on her neck. The scavengers around us blur, irrelevant, as my prey consumes all of my focus.
"If I'd wanted you dead, your blood would already be staining these stones. If I'd wanted your neck broken, you'd have gone cold long ago."

I let silence stretch, heavy and undeniable, so she can feel the truth in every word. Another step, the scrape of metal beneath my boots, deliberate, unhurried.
"You're still breathing… only because I will it."

The tension thickens, clinging to the air like fog. She fights still, but the fight is meaningless. Every move she makes only sharpens the contrast between her fragility and my patience. And yet that's what intrigues me, what draws me: the unshaped fire that flares even through her terror, the Force in her that refuses to be silenced. She isn't just another rat in the filth. She has value. She has the rare taste of prey that deserves to be transformed into something greater.

I lean in slightly, close enough that my words can slide into her ear like a cold caress.

"So now, you're going to listen. Resist, and you'll end like all the others an enslaved toy, a shadow crawling through the muck until it dissolves there. Accept, and I tear you out of this cage. I can show you what burns inside you, give you the weapons to consume those who chained you. You're right to fear me… but that fear can be your freedom, if you bend before you break."

Straightening again, my eyes gleam with a predator's light beneath the flickering neon. Nar Shaddaa has fallen silent around us; nothing exists now but her, caught between panic and the temptation I offer.

"So tell me, little witch… do you want to keep crawling until someone crushes you, or do you want to learn to bite, to consume, to burn everything that ever made you a slave? I am a vampire, yes, but you need to reflect on your situation now, you are reduced to find lot of garbage for stay alive, that's this you want ? I thinks you prefer a better life. Yes or no ? "

Hekate

 

[Hekate]

Nar Shaddaa was a bustling metropolis, and yet somehow all of it, every level was an undercity of crime, violence and corruption. Hekate should have known better than to seek help here. All that was left was a choice of which predator to die from. The Devaronian dealer, the Falleen slaver, or the vampire who wanted to eat her. Spice, Slavery or Death. Those were her choices.

Hekate slumped.

Maybe she should just give up. Let the vampire have her. It would be quicker, she did not want to go back to Spice or Slavery, and she was sick of running. The Mothers taught that death was a way of being reunited with your ancestors. Maybe she'd be able to see her family again. Her Clan. Like it was before. When they were happy.

Hekate cringed from the vampire recoiling from her speech, her horrible, predatory speech describing her scent, her steps, her twitches. Hekate didn't like anyone bringing up her twitches let alone this appalling abomination.

She felt the vampires gaze locking onto her, pinning her down. Everything else became a blur.

Her blood, her neck, her death. This vampire was already obsessed with her. Hekate closed her eyes barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She'd had masters like this. Ones that were obsessed with their own voice as much as their victims. Those ones were the worst the true sadists. Who said one thing and did another, who acted like a spilled serving plate was a high treasonous assault on their person. Hekate had done her best to avoid their attention and when that hadn't worked... Hekate flinched from the memory.

"I vill not go back to that place. I vill not be your slave to toy vith for your amusement. You say you vant to offer me freedom, but you vant someone to mould to bend as you say into your image. That is slavery vhether you know it or not."

Hekate shook her head and climbed unsteadily to her feet.

"Perhaps you vill break me, it has happened before. Perhaps I vill become your toy. I know I vill never submit willingly to such a fate, no matter how much you dress it up." Hekate paused and smiled ever slightly as a thought amused her. "Though even in that your 'pitching skills' as they say could use some work."

"I vill die fighting. I vill die free." Hekate stated her voice shaking, her arms shook of a moment then she snapped them into an open handed guard position. Memories of long ago kata's, sessions and training falling into place.

"CRATUS!" Hekate screamed the spell for Strength and launched into a flurry of attacks, her hands in open palm strikes, each one of her fingers twitching and directing small blasts of energy.

Hekate would show this vampire that she was not weak. That it was a mistake to call her prey.

Never again.

Nel Warren