The Vertical City
Reighton Barge
Like most things in this upside down vertical monstrosity of crime and bad slug politics, the Barge was nothing 'fancy' or really well maintained. Then again, it didn't have to be. The slow, ponderous, and weighty repulsor barge was quite large, and more of an eye-sore than it was known for anything else. Most sentients thought of the thing as a haphazardly pieced together trash barge, from which it had earned such a ghastly title. From the outside it was nothing special or really welcomed, and while it didn't have an kind of odor of garbage wafting in it's sky-lane wake, there was little to set the dull gray tones of aged durasteel to set it apart and make it attractive. That was precisely the entire point - as some of the most up and coming party enthusiasts were also quite clever when coming up with the new sky raves. Hidden in plain sight, and rocking the light fantastic as a less known about rave funded by a collection of freelance DJ's and other sponsors that the ravers were known to partake of. And yes, if you're wondering -
puffcakes were on the menu, which is of course one of the main reasons why Dash was notoriously present to revel in techno-beats and strobe lights. The combination of which should be illegal, as it could trigger both strokes and a depreciation for music of every other genre at the same time. Or was it the other way around? Who knows.
A Gaussian fog rolled through the floor as black lights and other various neon rays pumped through the rave floor and ceiling; while the sounds of sixteenth beats echoed back and forth, trapped in the long flat expanse of the dance floor. Dash didn't mind the run down look of the 'club' as it favored just about every luxury he actually wanted within the floating dance carrier. A gaggle of girls from the four corners of the Galaxy shimmied about on the dance floor beneath a beacon of speakers as the DJ drew out the sounds for their erotic and lively footloose frivolity. Adding to the mixture of the lights were two points of interest that swirled and danced around Dash himself. The infamous glow-rods normally used to light your path in the darkness of various tomb like abodes were repurposed to zip out on retractable cords to zip out and around his form. The
trail of light spinning back and forth and on occasion wrapping around the ladies to pull them closer. Of all the things that Dash was, he loved to let loose and just enjoy the pinnacle of his youth with those he could gain with a wink, a smile, and his ever illustrious silver-tongue.
After another insufferably long ballad of repeated layers over layers of musical anthems began to die down, the following roar of approved clapping and other varied alien notes of appreciation echoed in the chamber. Instantly a trio of ladies had their hands on Dash leaning on him from all directions. That self-pleased grin plastered over his face before he noted the flashing of his tech vambraces alerting him to a new job that might be worth his while. DARCI was always on point to bring up possibilities, though at the moment he couldn't even see that sassy orb, and likely was glad for that. DARCI was both sultry and maternal at times, which mean he really didn't want to entertain the ladies while having a back and forth with his main metal squeeze. A passing droid whizzed by with a few glasses of jawa juice to which Dash immediately snagged up and threw back, taking it one fell swoop. His lips then pressed immediately to the Arkanian on his right for a back bending lip lock.
"Now remember, that's now our song now. History will record that - and hopefully it won't be named 'when we were downwind from the barge'." A smirk touched his face before he reluctantly pulled away to check out the details of the newest hit to his holonet tracker. Dash had a ton of S-thread breakers around the Galaxy, and most of them DARCI had just directly taken over, and hitched a ride on virtually. Made it a lot easier than manually setting up junction boxes which was just too old school for this slicer. A few yards away, a holographic blue coated his right arm as he started to move through the code and find the advert. "Babe, wake up, it's time to play." He announced to nearly no one, but that black orb he was looking for shifted it's trajectory and moved in closer.
"Got that out of your system now?" The A.I. droned out with complete deadpan sympathy for his accelerated breathing, rapid heart-rate and other vital signs that suggested he was either infected with some kind of viral strain. DARCI knew better, but still hadn't grasped the concepts of a hormone driven youth when in the company of swoonable cohorts.
"Jealous much?"
"More like BORE--"
"Oooh, would you look at that. Half masquerade, all promises of the pink ink." A term that was normally reserved for anything Zeltros related, only this time, the actual catalyst was here on Nar-Shaddaa. The only reason he'd recieved such a quick update is because it was the signal that originated from the planet itself being in such close proximity. Dash used the work smart, not hard idea - and if the paying client was close by, it made travel a luxury he didn't have to spring for. Not having your own ship would do that.
"--D--ERLINE narcissistic as always." The complaint swiftly turned into the mocking of her creator as Dash ripped through the code and checked with DARCI's uplink to ensure that he was getting the right coordinates, and also ordering his ride.
"Do you even want to know how many times you're likely to miss this and become permacrete pizza?"
"Have you met me?" Dash asked in rhetoric with a grin before he took off in a dead run, matched by the tech wrapped inside the SPHERE, right through the main exit, and into a full dive right from the barge itself into the open air of the sky-lane traffic and straight, straight down.
____________________________________________________________
HALF AN HOUR LATER
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Pink Pleasure Palace
Another daring dive defying the odds of traffic incidents and violating common sense later, and Dash was on his way towards the site of a lucrative score. Not only in terms of money, but how often did Zeltros come to you? That planet, it sent shivers down Dash's spine in all the right ways. He'd been there once a few years back, and he was still puzzled on how he actually left. All he did know is that it wasn't of his own volition. He'd of fought that notion off quickly. It was a dangerous territory for the slicer, and he well knew it. Despite how much he enjoyed the idea of that planet, he knew that it was pretty much a death trap for him. Sure he'd die with a smile on his face, but that was gonna end his career and his way of life really really quickly. Temptation was a double edged blade, and while he'd flirt with [member="Danger Arceneau"] whenever he could; virtually or otherwise; that was an entirely different kind of danger to mess with.
Trading in a floating rave barge for that of a hovering citadel of sensory delight was not a bad evening if he did say so himself. The double doors
whooshed open while he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the dark locks and sliding the night goggles down into the folds of the scarf that rode around his throat. The owner had thrown out a hail Yoda it seemed, and was looking for some face time with the slicer who'd put the pieces together. That was of course the easy part, the fun part was deleting the advertisement and throwing other competitors off his trail. It was expected in the slicer community. If your ad got deleted without your permission, it was a lock you were getting yourself a slicer, and most likely someone reputable. In this case, the handsome Hapan was strolling through the Pleasure Palace, giving a wink and nod to the ladies at hand. One of them stepping up to greet him and ask what could be done to serve him tonight.
"Loaded question bright eyes, but I'm gonna have to go with the 'take me to your leader' vibe." Dash commented as he strolled behind the pink skinned goddess among the other ones around the room to the main office of the lady in charge. DARCI was just a few feet behind buzzing around Dash's head like an overgrown moth - though far more welcome.
[member="Breanna Volsh"]
