Slipper Sleaze

[Kiber Dorn]

Orbital Station Seven, Coruscant

These are the real drugs, bruv.

That was the quiet, dialect afflicted thought that popped up in the hide of Kiber Dorn as he stared at a single McYoda's fry. The single (loosely) potato based snack was held between a slender forefinger and thumb. Greasy, salty, perfection. There had to be some mad enhancers in there. No way that something with so little food content could taste so good. Crispy golden buggers, they were the real death sticks.

However the purpose here wasn't to make social commentary on Coruscant's rising obesity rates.

Nah, spice deals, man.

First time Kiber had been up onto one of these orbital station, in fact, first time he'd left the planet's surface in a good many years.

His buyer was some paranoid station space case that didn't trust the surface, so they had to come to him with the order. Pretty fethin' whack if you asked Kiber. Maybe narcotics wasn't what this tin foiled freak needed. Although, then again they played the prescription game too. Things to quell paranoid delusions and reduce anxiety, stop your hallucinations right in their tracks, y'know? You just have to accept the side effects of mild zombification. Some people even swore that they lost colour vision, that their worlds became a scene of black and white.

Well that's what happens when you swallow pills made by fethed up basement scientists. They don't even have basic pharmacy degrees, yo.

The deal was to happen here, in McYoda's, which was a change from the usual bar and back alley scene, and it gave Kiber the excuse to shovel artificial faire into his smirking gob.

Yum.

 

[J3C0]

Boan Rein stood within the Military Hangar Bay of Orbital Station Seven, her ship the Imperial Dawn was docked not far away, undergoing a slight re-fitt and repair. She herself was reading from a small datapad, her eyes scanning slow, her gaze hard, and her lips thinned as she slowly glossed over the information on the datapad.

She had no technical authority here on the station, but everyone knew who she was.

The Traitor.

The woman who turned her back on the Republic, and did it with a child like glee that resembled that of the Sith. She had sneered at that. Not people calling her a traitor, not the idea that she was thought of as cruel and vicious, but the idea that she was like Sith. That idea displeased her. Sith were chaotic, they were stupid, and they weren't controlled.

She none of those things.

Bo was perfection, the perfect mind, the perfect body, the perfect everything. She was an ideal, the Sith were simply...she scowled, the thought of them being like her disgusted her in ways that she couldn't explain.

The Commander shook her head, then called do one of the mechanics. “What's the estimate?”

The man ran over to her, checking his own datapad, then looking up at her.

“Thirteen hours to go Ma'am.”

Boan thought for a second, then nodded to the man.

Thirteen hours, ahead of schedule.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

At least in McYoda's you don't look too suspicious.

He just looked like a poor man, enjoying a poor man's kind of food. Still not sure if it can be legally classified as food, but hey, it tastes so damned good. He mused about what could have been in the Endorian chicken nuggets other than Endorian chicken. Sawdust. Chemicals. Glitterstim. Who knows? Well, the big corporation leaders know but those are closely guarded secrets, sir.

Kiber had heard that upon other less sketchy planets there were McYoda's that had to state the content of their food. He had even heard that on Naboo they claim 100% genuine bantha meat.

What a world.

The door opened, and he glanced a green eye upwards to see the shiftiest motherforker this side of Coruscant space. At least Kiber looked as though he might have been a hipster, but this scruffy lookin' brosphine looked like a campaign for Faces of Carsunum. Straight tweakin'.

The shifter made a straight beeline for his table, lacking all subtly and ruining the aura that Kiber had worked so hard to create. The man's mouth sat in away that indicated a severe lack of teeth, he didn't need to even open that maw to give that gummy nugget away.

“You...you...you got the stuff?”

Mad tweakin'.

The dealer picked up his large plastic cup and gave it a small shake, letting the ice rattle at the very bottom. He then offered the cup to the tweaker.

“How about you take a nice long drink of chill the frack out, mate?”

The drink was withdrawn, never actually having been on offer in the first place and Kiber nodded at the Happy Meal box that sat upon the table.

“Got you a nice meal and everythin'.”

Toothless Joe upon seeing the box, immediately snatched it up and turned around to leave before Kiber Dorn interjected.

“You gotta be Sith-Spittin' me, that's no free meal, man! An' it'll be your last if you don't pay. It ain't meals on wheels, bub.”

He turned back around, dropping credit chits onto the table and scurrying out of the fast food restaurant like a rat on amphetamines. Skraal were easier to deal with than that.

 

[J3C0]

To Bo, Space station represented absolute perfection.

They were a quiet, enclosed, technological marvel that could be completely monitored, controlled, and subjugated entirely. They were so much easier to police than Planets were, and so much easier to work on than...open cities. She frowned at the very thought, goosebumps running down the shall of her back. She didn't like the idea of that, not at all.

Space station though, they were different.

On a space station you could have every room wired to a single live feed.

Every nook, every cranny, every tiny little space could be observed, cataloged, and watched at any given time. It was a glorious thing really, the amount of control that a space station gave a person, one just had to know how to actually use it.

Bo Certainly did.

She stood in the control center of the Orbital Station, watching with keen hawk like eyes as everything on the station happened in real time. “There.”

Bo said outloud as she spotted something suspicious.

“Send security forces there.” The man looked at her with a puzzling look, he was technically right to. She had absolutely no authority in this place and half only been allowed in here as a personal favor. However the way she carried herself demanded respect. “Now.”

Not to mention obedience.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

With no rush to leave Kiber remained, happily finishing off the rest of his meal piece by grease-smothered piece. His toilet would just have to forgive him later, not like it hadn't seen worse. No, it had definitely seen worse than the aftermaths of a McYoda's special.

Nothing really of note happened, well, asides from the big goth that walked in, scoping him out like jailbait in short-shorts. Uncomfortable.

Sith usually never paid him any mind, they never usually bothered down that low in Coruscant.

However the mad stink eye he was getting was enough to drive Kiber straight out of that scene. He didn't come here to get looked at like he was the only piece of genuine meat in the joint, he was here to deal drugs, darn it! So he stood up, and in his typical swagged made his way to the door, strolling past the bigger goth.

Of course, cheeky chappy that he was decided to impart a sly wink to his admirer as he walked on by. Walked too close.

Hand suddenly shot out, thick fingers wrapping around his throat.

“Looks like I caught myself a rat.”

Bugger.

 

[J3C0]

Bo watched everything.

She could get used to this.

On her ship everything was secured, everything was orderly, everything was tidy. She liked it that way, she liked everything to be the same and organized and she liked everyone to follow a certain few rules. From here, she could impose those very same rules on Orbital Station Seven, make it her home away from hoe.

Did she have the audacity to take over the station?

Yes.

“GO!” Bo said turning to the security officer. “GO NOW!”

Her raspy voice somehow seemed to echo in the small room, and the security officer jumped up from the chair and went to go join his comrades who were headed to the scene of the disturbance. Meanwhile Bo smiled, sitting herself down in the mans chair.

Yes she did.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

“Sir...” he croaked, moving both hands up to try and pry the cruel gauntlets from around his throat, no dice, his fingers were thick and his grip brutishly strong “...I...think...you'll find…that I'm...not a rat...but rather a….human...”

He scoffed.

“All Dorns are rats.”

The grip tightened upon his admittedly thin neck, cutting off an increasing supply of oxygen to Kiber's brain, his face was already turning a grand shade of red.

“...you….wot….mate…?”

Nobody on Coruscant had even blinked at the mention of his name. He was just another name in and endless sea of trash and nobodies. Who was this man? Palpatine's pecker! Did he have a bounty on his head? Surely not.

No time to think about it has Kiber was picked up in a one handed-grip and slammed back first into the wall, sending a horrific twinge up the man's spine as his face turned from red to purple. The gentle chatter of McYoda's died down to nothing, as the heroic patrons of the fast food chain shrunk away into silence. See who the real rats are, yo.

“….ple...ase…..bre...aaf...”

“Squeak, little rat, squeak!”

 

[J3C0]

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

Bo could only watch.

Well that wasn't entirely true, there could have been many things she could've done. For instance she could have picked up her comm-link and called a detachment of troopers to the scene, but she chose not to. Stormtroopers would have been much better than station security, much more organized and much more effective.

Yet, she wanted to see this play out.

It was an interesting scenario to be sure, and quite truthfully Boan had absolutely no idea what was actually going on, the cameras only provided picture, no audio.

Grabbing hold of the controls Bo switched to one of the closer cameras and zoomed in on the whole debacle, watching as Kiber and the assassin began to scuffle.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

It may have been unpleasant to bear, but really Kiber should have been very thankful that his would-be assassin was one to play with his food. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Why would you resort to cannibalism in the middle of McYoda's?

He was a touch gothic, mind you. Never know what to expect with those types.

Once more he was slammed into the wall, face fully plum now and legs kicking and flailing at his aggressor's armoured knees. He didn't want to die being choked out in the middle of a fast food restaurant. What a cringe-worthy way to go. Although, then again it was unconventional. No, no, still too cringe.

“…..wa….ck….!”

Still being lifted by that single hand around his throat, the man moved, marching over to a table with two shrunken violets already occupying it. Of course, they didn't opt to help, only squeaking fearfully at the scene.

He was slammed upon the table at an awkward angle, a ropo salsa sandwich smearing the back of his head while his lower back was slammed agonisingly against the lip of the table. His throat was released with that assault, and Kiber was left to slide off the table and onto the floor, being showered by a dozen stray fries.

As a noble small-time spice dealer he was left writhing and coughing upon the floor, trying to remember how to breathe once again. Each inhale a raspy struggle in which his throat protested.

“Are you having fun, rat?”

A durasteel toe-capped boot shot out, kicking him right in the pointed schnozz with a vicious snap echoing throughout the establishment. Kiber screamed, it was very, er...courageous.

“I am.”

 

[J3C0]

She reminded herself that in the future she would have to learn to read lips. It was a skill that she did not yet hold, but one she so wished for now. One of the men was clearly threatening the other, probably intending on killing him one way or another.

Bo wasn't worried.

Either the man would die or he would survive.

Right now the latter looked far more likely. Bo simply watched through the Closed Caption Camera system, eyes darting from screen to screen so that she could see the situation from multiple angles. She didn't really have a stake in this fight, but the amusement value alone was well worth watching. Were members of her crew here there would very likely be gambling.

Perhaps the little man would prove surprising.

Though she very much doubted that.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Blood streamed down his face, eyes watering and nose feeling several times too large than it already was.

His response to the man's questions were further coughs and hacks, breathing still a very difficult task for him to do by himself. Sadly Kiber is not available for idle banter at the moment, if you'd like to leave a message then do so after the beep.

The man bent down, to look at his prey. He might have been young but whatever company he was keeping was already aging him beyond ordinary means. Dark circles around the eyes, teeth starting to feel the strains of rot, a slight yellowing of the iris. Welcome to the Dark Side.

“Squeak for me, rat,” he hissed, gauntlet clad hand moving for his belt, for the lightsaber hilt clipped at his side. This would be ending soon.

Or perhaps not.

In his confidence, he overlooked a small detail. The whereabouts of Kiber Dorn's hands. One which had slipped inside the pocket of his coat.

A flash of steel.

Switchblade, right into the side of the man's right knee, where the armour didn't protect vulnerable joints. As if this were a comedic moment in a holovid, the big goth stopped for a moment, a mildly hilarious stillness in the air right before he howled.

“….gghhhk!”

Kiber's other hand, came away from his nearly crushed throat and sent what was an extremely novice Force push at the man, knocking him backwards onto his bottom and sending him harmlessly skidding away a mere two metres.

With the blade still lodged in his knee, the brute grunted, struggling back up onto his feet with a very nasty expression slapped across his coupon.

“I was gonna end you there, rat,” he grunted, “now I think I'll make the suffering last.”

 

[J3C0]

Boan watched the ordeal, silently, a slight smirk crossed her lips.

Apparently the boy would not be getting away. Pity that. Perhaps he could have proven useful in some way, he had a look about him as if he knew something, something useful.

“Oh well.” Bo said to herself as she turned around and looked away from the monitor for the briefest moment, looking at her nails, inspecting them as though they were what was about to deal the killing blow to the man. Pity that they were not, it had been too long since Nizza that her fingers had been bloodied. Far too long.

She did not see the boy resist the man, throwing him away with a push of the force.

Foolish Boan.

Luckily for Kiber, backup would quickly arrive. Perhaps he would not meet death on this day. The security officer arrived with a small detachment of his men, each brandishing ancient blaster weapons and wearing garb that looked almost ratty.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Screamed the security officer as he arrived on the scene.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

The arrival of the security force did nothing to dissuade the now fairly furious goth assassin.

In fact, if anything all it did was make the man sneer at the petty little officers. Truthfully the man was nothing but an initiate in cult affairs, but that still placed him higher than spice dealers and station authority.

He wouldn't be stopped, this wretch's head would signify his rise to glory.

Kiber meanwhile, didn't offer much resistance, much more content to lay prone upon the floor, hands back up to clutch at his abused throat, as the blood still poured down from his nostrils like a leaky tap.

“Fools!” he spat, almost trademarked, grabbing the lightsaber hilt and igniting the red blade. A sign of a Sith if there ever was one, even if he didn't say it out loud. Did Sith get a free pass here?

“You mere peasants cannot stop the God King's bidding!”

From upon the floor Kiber snorted, splattering blood and snot upon McYoda's floor. Was that a jibe? Or was his body just protesting from the mild beating that he had received.

With that he shrugged off the notion of security and made a bee-line straight for the downed man, raising his lightsaber in the air above his own head.

 

[J3C0]

This time Bo heard what was happening. Through the comm-link that the security officers were wearing Boan heard the mans boast, and almost immediately she knew who it was attributed. There was only one man in the galaxy audacious enough to call himself a God King, only one man who had the gal to call himself such things.

“Kill him.” Bo hissed into the comm-link.

She knew well what order she giving, and what consequences it could have.

The men wouldn't know.

No.

They would be far too ignorant of the world around them to actually know what Boan already knew. They wouldn't hesitate at her Order. They knew that Boan came from the One Sith Military, that she was high ranking, and that she was scary. Most of them simply wanted to follow orders and at the end of the day go home.

So when they heard Boan hiss her command, they followed it.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Suddenly Kiber wished he was wearing his brown pants. He was about three seconds away from soiling himself at the prospect of lightsaber beheading.

Well, that was until the ringing of blaster fire drowned out any and all thoughts about leaving a trouser stain behind on the world. Usually any and all security detail was the natural enemy of the wild Kiber Dorn, what with screenings and pat downs, suspicious looks and apprehensions but no, not today.

Hallelujah, praise be to Orbital Station Seven, with their no nonsense security force.

With a roar which died down to a squeal, the would-be Goth assassin was downed in the hail of blaster fire and Kiber lived to be a rat for another day. Hey, you fought the law, and the law won, buddy.

Slowly, the small-time spice dealer sat up, making sure that his hands were perfectly visible to the security team, so he would not meet the exact same fate.

“...fanks….”

 

[J3C0]

Bo waited for a few moments as blaster-fire resounded through the the comm-link.

It was a roar of fire, flames, and laser fire that saw the cultist dead within seconds. He was no Jedi or Sith, no force user that had a lightsaber at his side. The Blaster-fire cut him down in moments, and Boan watched with no small hint of satisfaction as the man was almost instantly killed. Her lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at the holo-screens.

The Security officer looked to one of the cameras, then to the boy on the table.

Boan looked considering for a moment, then turned to face another one of the holo-screens that showed the feedback footage of just a moments ago.

“Arrest him.” Came her harsh tone over the comm.

There was a reason that the cultist of Kaine Zambrano had attacked this man, a reason that the God King had wanted to see him dead. Boan Rein was smart enough to know that it was important, smart enough to know there had to be a reason, one that could be used to her advantage.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Good feeling gone.

The security force suddenly turned to him, blasters at the ready (which he considered to be completely and utterly excessive). His eyes widened, blood still freely dribbling down his face, off his chin and onto sadly white t-shirt. It was a good t-shirt too, had a funny ironic slogan on it.

“...I ain't….done...nuffin…!”

The security officer pointed to the switch-blade protruding from the dead goth's knee. Concealed weapons may have been fair game on the surface of Coruscant, but this was an orbital station and that was a bit of a no-go, or a no-go enough to get him arrested.

As they slapped cuffs around his wrists he offered no physical resistance, but a slightly cheeky sentiment.

“If I didn't...ack...have that, mate, I'd be….brown bread!”

They ignored that nugget and took him away, taking him on the not too long walk to the security station. Boots confiscated, coat confiscated, even his belt (with the surfing jawa buckle) had been confiscated. Leaving him sitting in the holding cell with his legs crossed, and his white t-shirt now incredibly soiled.

 

[J3C0]

Boan walked through the bowels of the station, the brig.

She had a smirk on her face. She always did after she had done something like she had, a press against a Sith, a tiny push back against what they wanted. It gave her great pleasure, even taking away the smallest things from them gave her delight akin to nothing else she had ever felt. She took a measure of control away from them, and that gave her satisfaction.

The life of this boy, whoever he was, was clearly precious to Lord Zambrano, the Voice of the Dark Lord. Or rather, his death was.

An interesting thing that.

She moved with lithe grace, stepping with loud clicking boots in front of the mans cell. She was tall, taller than he, her bright blond hair wrapped around itself in a single braid hanging over her shoulder. Sharp blue eyes looked down on him in disgust.

“You.” Her tone was ice. “Whats your name.”

 

[Kiber Dorn]

They could have at least given him a glass of water for his poor abused throat.

It felt as if there was a lump in there that he couldn't swallow away no matter how much he tried. No, just dullsville sitting around waiting for somebody in a uniform to come along and scold him, and then eventually settle for a bribe.

Tell him not to do it again, secretly hoping that he would, so another bribe could kiss their pockets. That's how the system worked.

Here he comes.

Rather, she comes.

Look out, we've got an Amazonian beauty clackin' along in those heels. Tiwit-tiwoo! There was an intense urge to flirt that he had to suppress, eyelid half-twitching, trying to go for the sleazy wink. In theory he could get used to the idea of the dominatrix, but in practise the pain would be far too much and the safe words would be out well before dawn. Like I said, in theory, not in practise. That's the kinda guy he is.

She wanted his name.

I should make you work for it, blondy.

Words nowhere near as bold as thoughts however, as he looked up at her with his bloody, broken nose and bruised neck like the sad little cretin that he was.

“Kiber Dorn, ma'am."

Correct answer, but something about the way it slipped out of his mouth was just so...rage inducing.

 

[J3C0]

Why was that name vaguely familiar?

She tried to recall something from her memories, but it was a fleeting thought that didn't quite make it there. Of course had she been more studious she would have remembered that Karin Dorn had once been the Eye of the Dark Lord and the woman had been well known before the One Sith turned into the Empire it was today.

Boan should have remembered that, but she only recently joined the One Sith and their history was not well known to her, at least not in any large extent. Of course for Boan, it would have been moot anyway, mostly because she was far more interested in why Kaine wanted this boy than anything else.

“Do you know the man that came after you?” She spoke in that raspy tone.

There would be no torture, not yet, so far he was cooperating, though she had only asked him his name. His tone however was none too comforting.