The Morning After

[Darth Empyrean]

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It’d been some time since The Slave had hid it away, though rumors aboard the ship persisted. Despite every measure to maintain its secrecy by Cybele, The Slave had managed to get intoxicated or otherwise under the influence so many times that it had become practically common knowledge of what he held in his room. Rumors abound about what it actually was were persistent and many, though none actually knew what it was.

What was known however was that it was kept in a small phrik case, and held tight by a double prime encryption; enough security to keep any would be thief’s out. At least somewhat, but past this the ship had a number of defenses aboard to prevent guests from wandering too far from the designated guest areas. Much of the ship was dedicated to the night life, but even more was still dedicated to the actual maintenance and security of the vessel; so aboard was thousands of South Star Class Battle Droids doing not only security patrols, but active crew duties all kept together by the AI that presided over the entire ship and its automated security. It was a fort on the interior, but not something someone without skill couldn’t attempt a crack at.

Deep inside the vessel was The Slave, quietly asleep in the luxury suite known as his quarters. Its interior was dark, hiding many of its features, but a soft pulsing blue glow kept much of the area basking in warmth. Next to him was a sleeping zeltron, likely one of the dancers aboard, but with both slumbering it could only be surmised what they had been up to. Next to him was the phrik device, sitting squarely on the nightstand next to him.

A sense of greed was aboard the ship, and as every night the nightclub aboard was surging with life. With nearly thirty thousand people aboard, most were high on this drug or that, floating about the zero g dance floor with little thought about what would come next. The extremely loud bass kept anyone in the main club awake and alive, though every room off its main tower only rumbled with a quiet contempt, a nod at its superior sound proofing design.

The night was late, and the next station they were docking at was in the morning. A private hanger held every ship available, but escape pods were almost null albeit one. If there was ever a time to strike, tonight was it.


[member="Nyra Mazul"]

---

 

[Nyra Mazul]

The visual pollution of neon and ultra violet light was only matched by the utter cacophony of the music which probably constituted a sonic weapon on some worlds. Nyra herself could imagine a Bith, being particularly vulnerable to such attacks, having it's head blasted off by the utter power of the bass. Nyra just shut her ears, literally, using her shape shifting to block excess noise.

In a normal situation the club might have been a nice get away, but when in the process of working her job Nyra preferred skyscrapers to clubs. Harder to be spotted, and more fun to climb, jump, and descend. The club however offered for some other rather amusing opportunities.

Information was ammunition to a thief and Nyra had obtained a fair amount here and now. Moving with a sway which confused the eye into misinterpreting the hip to waist ratio creating a super-normal stimuli garnered her a fair bit of attention. Males were easy. Human males, and especially young adult human males, could often be swayed by a simple show of skin and the unstated and vague promise of quid pro quo. Nyra had little respect for most of them. The last male she could have dated was [member="Velok the Younger"], but his tastes in heavy tusked women clashed with her own preference of a more broad appeal.

Credentials achieved through simple methods meant that Nyra was able to move around the vessel possessing security cylinders to access most of the area's that were restricted. The force was a powerful tool and combined with her shape shifting and the urge for an average person to be too trusting made it easy for Nyra to obfuscate the truth.

Transforming from guest, to janitor, to engineer, or security officer as needed for the various locations she was in, while fast talking or using some of the subtler aspects of the force had allowed her into the heart of the vessel. An Usher was taking pretty girls from the club to a nearby room in hopes of catching the eye of 'The Slave', who really he needed a better name, served up to him on a silver platter. Nyra fell in line behind them

Why didn't Nyra just meet this man at the club and go from there? It wasn't as much fun, and besides there was advantages to getting the lay of the land, and checking out the various systems of the ship. Advantages like placing a can of hyper compressing gas into the environmental systems that when released would render the entire crew, or at least the vast majority, utterly useless. The chemical itself increased heart rate and lowered mental defenses making them susceptible to simple suggestion before safely knocking the victim out. It might even work on 'The Slave' who Nyra was now calling Gary in her head, making her job even easier. Of course a device in the generator room could have shunted power causing small blackouts throughout the ship maybe diverting attention to other area's but this... this was more fun....

"So where is our host?" Nyra asked falling into line with the other girls. She looked to her sides at the assembled club trashed and smiled a ditsy little smile. Stage One complete.

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“In there, I guess.”, one of the girls said as they moved up slightly in the line.

So she said, at least.

“Nobody has come out though.”, another said a bit more nervously.

A man walked by the group, glancing them up and down before walking past; seeming to put himself in between the hallway they came in and where they stood now. A picket, meant to be a bulwark incase one of them ran it seemed.

“Next!”, the man in front called out as they took another step forward.

As they took their step, a girl fell from the room, a massive bruise above here eye; implying a skull fracture. She called out something weak, before being stepped on and pulled back into the room. Chaos broke loose as the girl closest to the front screamed something ungodly and attempted to run before a nearly silent blaster shot slammed into back; the damage however, had been done.

In less than a moment, one of the security patrols had descended upon them; each carrying Jaeger brand tech. They were curiously silent, but the one in the front spoke in a female’s voice; a waif like tone that betrayed her omniscience in these halls.

“Causing trouble, fellas?”, she quipped.

A groan from the crowd as the girls began to weep, they lifted their hands above their heads and fell quiet. In most cases, the ship held with them a surprisingly upstanding crowd; but every now and then some upstart thought they could pull conventional hustles onboard. They didn’t often go well, though as Cybele moved the droids around to detain the group, a strange energy began to appear.

It could be felt first, a foreboding darkness that wandered the halls like a sickening cloud of abysmal energy; but it was slow. Quiet, almost. Existing for only a moment in complete mystery, The Slave himself showed up around the corner rubbing his eye of whatever had built up in it while he slept.

Furrowing his brow, he pushed alabaster hair from his face as electrum eyes wandered over the crowd. He wore no shirt, no shoes, and only a pair of faintly too tight pants; giving way to innumerable scars that lined his body. The good eye could tell it was whips that laid the majority, but whether it was consensual or not wasn’t obvious.

“What’s going on here?”, he said with a tinge of anger filling his tone.


[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

The truth was Nyra wasn't sure what exactly was going on here. She had assumed this entire affair was being brought about for the benefit of Gary. The appearance of well armed security droids sort of shot that theory straight in the hind parts. There was the man himself of course. Nyra judged him handsome enough despite the scars.With his wealth he clearly could have had them removed, but choose not to. This told Nyra... well not a lot. She already knew that anyone named 'The Slave' had issues. At least he didn't have 'damaged' tattooed to his face. That would have been really stupid. He was interesting in a physical way; tight little body, blonde hair, and golden eyes to match. Yes without the scars he would be the perfect little twink.

Looking around Nyra made clear from her composure that she wasn't part of the herd, no helpless or hapless damsel. She shrugged as she heard the tone of anger in the man's voice. Then she broke away, sauntering up to the man with typical swaying hips and pouted lips. "We were told, at least I was, that you had wanted to chat with me. So I thought," she said approaching closer, "why not? Someone with all this?" Her arms came up indicating the ship.

"Then the girls started screaming and apparently this guy," Nyra walked over and planted her heel firmly between his legs. He crumpled to the ground as Nyra looked back at the man, "was running some game." Licking her lips she looped back at Gary winked. "So that's how it is."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Whatever had gone down, it was obvious a shit show. The Slave walked in the middle, and couldn’t help but think all of this might have still been a dream he thought he woke up from; only amplified by the fact an exceptionally thick woman sauntered his way directly after. In true fashion, he was still a bit annoyed he was woken up becoming ever more obvious in his tone;

“Cybele, what happened?”

“Exactly that. Don’t you listen?”, the droid said as it handcuffed another of the traffickers.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed heavily; put to shame by his AI once again. She made a habit out of being so nice in the private, but always verbally teasing him in public; something he sometimes wished she’d quit. Moving to wipe hair from his face, he gazed back on this women who took the liberty to inform him of the situation.

He took in her features, and as any male he most notably took in the fact her hips were wide and sauntered with care. Her kind was common here, a reason many rich men came, but he couldn’t help feel a bit uncomfortable around her; though he couldn’t tell if that was the sickening dark side that reeked off her, or the fact she laid it on thick.

“I don’t mean to disappoint, but I uh…”, he paused as he tried to think of the words.

“I have no idea who you are.”

[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

The woman gave him a look over and considered for a moment. And then it came to her, why rob the vault when she could have fun! Oh it would be glorious. This man was edgier than Kaine who she was apprentice to for three seconds. A smile crossed her face, a delicious little mischievous smile. Nyra knew what to do in this moment, the one thing she had to do. Someone living this lifestyle, there had to be one worry that he had, one underlying fear above all other fears. And hey if it didn't work it would be fun and certainly spice things up a bit.

"Sydney Handjerker with Handjerker, Cohen & Bromburg," Nyra said zipping down her top a little and reaching inside. From within she pulled out a datapad and presented it to the man. "Mr. 'The Slave' you've been served." she said suddenly serious with none of her normal jovial playfulness.. "Paternity suit."

Standing for a moment with stern feature she made sure the point had gotten across before breaking down laughing. "Wouldn't that have been the absolute worse?" Nyra said with a giggle. "By the force, I'm sorry...." she said inching forward. "My Name is Nyra Mazul. I gotta say I'm rather impressed with your place here Mister 'The Slave.'. Do you mind if I call you something else? I feel rather silly referring to you as 'The Slave'." Every time she mentioned Gary's moniker her face contorted into a straight impression her voice growing deeper and
placed a deep emphasis on the capital T in 'The Slave'. "So whatcha say? Do I get to call you something different? A pet name perhaps?"

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave took an extra long glance at the cleavage before taking the datapad into hand, only to hear her laugh. It didn’t matter to him much either way, he ran a mobile nightclub through the edges of space, actively assaulted sith lords weekly, and was generally known as one of the most wanted terrorists after breaking down the government of The Dominion. All of that considered, getting him to pay child support wasn’t very high on his list of concerns.

With her moving on, he dropped the datapad on the ground and crossed his arms. Annoyance was fleeting, a furrowed brow giving signs to his patience and its limits.

“A pet name perhaps?”, she seemed to tease.

A question everyone seemed to stress, but one that meant very little to a man who had never known a name thus far. He’d been called by many, and none of them meant more than the dirt a bantha stepped in.

“I don’t even call myself ‘The Slave’.”, he said flatly.

Cybele, with robotic enthusiasm, chimed in cheerily;

“I call him John.”, she said, followed by a series of hums.

“... Don’t do that.”

[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

"You are adorable," she said at the disembodied voice from the droid. "Can we do your hair? Do you have hair? We should do John's hair." Nyra licked her lips and looked over at golden flowing locks from 'The Slave' "I like calling you John, it's so much better to have a name" Nyra said stepping forward and moving toward the door. "So John, what shall tonight's entertainment be?" She started to walk out the door bumping the man with her hips as she moved by and winking at him.

"A nice dinner perhaps? I think you owe me that much at least. A bit of hospitality no?"

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

John, John, John…

He couldn’t help but verbally grunt at what Cybele had done; turning on his heel and rubbing his temples as he began to walk away. It was always this damned AI that had to ruin his night by forcing somebody else into her little games, this one or that, and with ‘John’ recovering from a hangover that pulsed in his head, he couldn’t help but be especially annoyed.

“A bit of hospitality no?”, he heard her say.

“I owe you nothing.”, he spoke in response, that same annoyance growing in his voice.

“I’m sure if you look around, ‘Mr. Lussk’ would be more than willing to give you more than the time of day.”, obviously implying a bedding.

Brushing his hair aside, he moved down the hallway that seemed slightly more decorative than the rest of the ship; electrum accenting a few walls as a few pieces of art and pottery since in alcoves. He stops near the only door there, a double door that opened at his mere presence, entering with a continued tiredness to his step.

Cybele wouldn’t close the door behind him however, fully allowing Nyra to follow.

The Slave, ignoring this, moved towards his closet, removing the pants he wore by themselves; facing away from her in the nude as he walked into the refresher connected to the almost massive encompassing area that was his bedroom. The walls were a crimson, with gold lining most surfaces; including a bed where the twi’lek from before still slept.

Pillars around it draped with curtains did little to hide what was within, but there was so much more to the room than a bed and a bathroom. A desk with various artifact components sat, a living area as decadent as one could be, and more. It seemed as though almost all the wealth of the ship had become situated entirely at its center, right where his room was.

It certainly fit.

[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

He owed her nothing, and then made an implication before walking off towards his room. And yet, he left the door open inviting her in. Nyra watched the man leave with a quirk of her eyebrow staring back after him before finally sashaying off after him. Once inside he began to discard his clothes which Nyra thought was more than presumptuous until she noticed a bit of blue twi'lek peeking from under the covers of the nearby bed. Nyra walked over and leaned down putting her head next to the woman's and whispering something to her. A little moan replied before the alien stepped up out of bed gathering her clothes and leaving with a vacant impression on her face.

The room in which '[member="The Slave"]' lived was rather droll by Nyra's estimation lacking in any sort of vibrancy that might be taste. Then again it might have just been the previous occupant. Nyra smiled a little to herself as she placed her behind directly onto the bed before stretching her arms up and falling backwards into the cushioned mattress.

Standing Nyra walked over to the desk and began looking at the artifacts present. There was an impressive display of wealth on display in the living quarters of the man and it was on display for any visitors to see, that means he was confident in his ability to protect the goods, or else had so much that such baubles were of little importance to him. In either event Nyra knew what she had to do.

"So now that you've lured me into your evil lair what monstrous plans have you for me?" Rolling in the bed she turned to lay on her stomach looking at 'The Slave' with a tow up in the air making little circles.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

In the midst of standing in front of the mirror, robotic assistance work on cleaning his teeth for him, he couldn’t help pause and glance Nyra’s way as she twirled her toe in the air. Furrowing his brow, he was still heavily exhausted and only barely awake, but her continue engagement made him wake up moment by moment, whether he wanted to or not.

Spitting what toothpaste he had into the sink, he walked to the doorway and leaned on it; avoiding the towel next to him as any form of concealment. His voice was low, though not as annoyed as it had been prior, more a curious and certainly tired volume carried with it;

“You weren’t even supposed to follow me in here.”

“You’re welcome.”, said Cybele over the intercom. Her voice was sweet, obvious toying with The Slave as she had made it her personal past time.

The Slave simply shook his head before laying electric golden eyes back on the intruder.

“What is it you want, uh…”, he paused.

“What’s your name again?”

[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

"Nyra," she said in answer to his question. "Nyra Mazul, and I'm your luck charm. Good or bad is up to you."

Looking over at [member="The Slave"] Nyra looked down and then like an appraiser took in the entire spectacle before quirking an eyebrow. "You have really pale skin, have you considered getting more sun?" Nyra rolled back over onto her back lifting her hands high above her head and stretching out her body writhing against the sheets for a moment before she grabbed one of the pillows and rested her head down. "Not that pale skin doesn't have it's own appeal, but there is a malign air about you as if you're a shut in. You don't seem like a shut in to me."

With the change in posture Nyra left room on the bed inviting the sith to lay behind her. "I can wait though. I'm a patient ambush predator. And you my adorable little friend are my prey for the evening."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

She certainly knew a few of his weakness, though any female with half a brain and twice as much weight in their hips could catch his attention. Infact, many men had too; so as predictable as he was he couldn’t help but bring his gaze to the leather clad shape she carried, paying more attention to that than to whatever it was she was talking about.

Glancing down, he quickly grabbed a towel to at least wrap himself with before walking to set on the edge of the bed behind her, brushing some of the hair from his face as he made the last desperate attempts to wake up. He spoke in the same tired tone as before, though the annoyance had left, at least for the moment;

“To answer your question, I get enough sun.”

Leaning back, he supported himself on the luxurious bed by his arms only to glance upwards to the ceiling;

“As for being a predator, you’re more upfront than many of the girls that end up here”, he chuckled out; glancing back to her.

“Here’s to hoping you enjoy what’s for dinner.”

[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

"I'm more upfront because I'm unlike any woman you've ever met." Up to and including the fact that she could, if desired, simply not be a woman. Alternately she could transform into the ideal form for the any perspective target, all designed to distract or entice as needed. Males, especially human males, were rather predictable when it came to their reaction to her various human forms.

Sitting up she wrapped an arm around the Slave caressing his chest a big from behind sending a knee up to lightly nudge at his supports, the arms behind him, lowering him onto the bed next to her. "But for now," she said with a smile, "What do you say we get a little rest? You seem very sleepy after all and I'd rather have you at full strength." A nudge in the right direction and Nyra wrapped herself around the Sith. "And I'll be here when you wake up."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Her touch seemed warm, but a faint coldness kept any sensuality about it at bay. Perhaps it was the darkside permeating off her, or the fact she seemed somewhat insistent on him sleeping, but it forced a furrowing of his brow as she pulled him towards the bed, wrapping herself around him. His own placated gaze stared upwards instead of following her form, taking a few moments to consider whatever thought pestered his internal eye before speaking;

“... No.”, he said somewhat suddenly.

Although he denied her request, he did move to grab a handful of her assets before glancing over to her with a slight danger in his stare;

“Now that I’m awake, I think I’ll stay awake.”

A grin swept over his features before he let out a small laugh, though it was littered with a faint cruelty. The situation was mundane, but the faintly pretty sith seemed all too interested in making it anything but; for whatever reason he had pent up in him.

“Come now, you don’t really think I’d fall asleep with a stranger in my room? There are things in here worth far more than your life, you know.”

There it was again, cruelty festering in his volume; something low and predatory.


[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

From behind the shapeshifter straddled the man, Smiling Nyra wrapped herself around the man cooing softly as she leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I understand," she said "I'm such a threat you can't let your guard down, or else what? Big Bad Girl will take all of your valuable stuff," she practically pouted.

Her hands explored his chest until migrating up around his neck. Like a constrictor snake, literally she was a shapeshifter, she could cut off blood circulation to his brain knocking him out in five seconds, give or take, causing brain damage later and then death. Humanoids were so fragile. "And yet you have allowed me to wrap you all up," she whispered into his ear, "That doesn't seem very prudent, not that I pegged you for an overly cautious man."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Overly cautious isn’t something I’d describe myself as…”, he mused.

The Slave cocked his head, resting what he could next to hers as he held onto him tight; one hand moving to grab slightly of the arm that straddled his neck. It’s leather intrigued his sense of touch, and the perfume she wore stole his attention only for a moment. Glancing back to her, the cruel indignation of his tone came full bore;

“I’d say I’m more…”, he paused, some jeering expression falling upon his playful lips.

“Oh, how do you say it…”, he paused again, some dramatic flare it seemed.

Moving, The Slave twisted in her grasp, laying her down with him on top; despite the hold she held on him. His body hovered only inches above hers, and his hair threatened to spill over her face as a small tunnel of alabaster strands formed between them. Golden eyes struck deep as they stared her down;

“A sybarite.”

Glistening teeth bore ill intent as he flared them in a sickening smile. The man was torturous in form alone, and it only became more obvious every second they spent together.


[member="Nyra Mazul"]

 

[Nyra Mazul]

Nyra let her body fall back onto the bed meeting the ever increasingly menace of the mans voice cause her smile to broaden. He described himself in a very simple way that seemed accurate enough as he lay atop of her. Nyra's legs shot up around his midriff in a guard position by instinct. Licking her lips Nyra looked up as he lay atop of her. "And tell me, among these treasure you hoard, where you would rate me? Another conquest?"

With a preternaturally strong squeeze she exerted pressure on the bottom of his rib cage timing it with the contraction of his chest to, quite literally, take his breath away. Sweeping one of his hands aside and reversing their position Nyra threw the man underneath of her. "But what value would I hold if I were so easy to obtain? And of what interest would I be to you if I was so easy?" she shrugged a little as she lifted her hands above her head and ran a hand through her hair. "You know what they say? After you get what you want you don't want it."

[member="The Slave"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave exhaled as she produced, offering a faint noise as the air was momentarily struck from his lungs. It was only a moment, but enough for the weasel of a woman to turn them over once more, with him once more on his back; hands high above his head as he watched her.

“Who’s to say I want you any longer than tonight?”, he quipped.

Once more, his hands found their way to buttocks; finding a resting spot as he cocked a brow upwards to her. His face was teasing, mocking almost as he continued to taunt her through his words;

“Pretty presumptuous, I’d say. Didn’t take you for that type.”

[member="Nyra Mazul"]