The Thing About Chinese Is, It Always Leaves You Hungry

[Zadge Talran]

Dayboy had a hell of a sweet tooth. The sinewy, compact girl was the last person Zadge would have pegged to go ape over cupcakes, but hey, the galaxy was full of non-sequiters. At any rate, it was a small price to pay to keep the stubble headed rebel in their hotel room. Dayboy'd stopped threatening to go straight to Renton and beat a confession out of him. Her anger was chanelled towards the petite cakes instead, and it was an icing massacre for the history data's.

They'd spent the last three days holed up in room 202 at The Creds. It was an out of the way dungheap, a few sectors away from both Zadge's and Dayboy's apartments. Ever since their 'abduction' they'd been instructed to be scarce from their usual hangouts.

"Find anything Talran?" Dayboy asked from around a white-frosted cake. Her tongue flicked across her lips, scooping up any missed bits, as her eyebrows raised in question. Zadge shook his head miserably as he tossed his coat on the floor and flopped onto a bed. His scrawny frame barely made an indentation in the mattress.

The man removed his thick glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You ever been to Renton's place, Day'?"

"Nope."

"You know what he's got in there?"

Dayboy snorted. "Obviously not Talran, if I've never beenthere. Cut the poodoo."

Zadge lifted himself up on his elbows, his abdominal muscles (or lack thereof) quaking in protest. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's a shell."

Dayboy paused, the cupcake resting inches away from her mouth, and frowned. "What do you mean, nothing? No furniture? No computers? Not even a frackin' diary?"

"Nope." Zadge collapsed into the pillows, a sick feeling in his stomach. They had to confirm that Renton was indeed an Imperial mole. They couldn't if there was nothing to confirm it. If they couldn't find anything, people went on being offed.

Which was probable for his future too, since he'd promised to get back to Russard and Kazaar in two days. He wasn't much afraid of Estelle, she seemed to function like a normal, reasonable human being. Kazaar on the other hand; well, Zadge hadn't quite figured out how he functioned yet, but it was much like his older brothers and that didn't bode well for any skinny, spectackled homebodies.

"I've had enough. I'm going to go pound on that rat until he says somethin', one way or the other!" Dayboy tossed her treat over her shoulder and launched off the bed. Zadge was about to chase after her when a rap on the door froze them both. Dayboy went instinctively to her blaster. Zadge twisted his glasses between his hands.

It was starting.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

It'd been 'The Kid' who'd knocked, an admonishment to 'er partner who had a different plan. Kazaar'd wanted t'stand in front of th'nicked up hotel room door until one of 'the wannabes' walked out and straight inta 'im. Woulda been fun t'see.

But Estelle'd wanted t'least, "be nice to them at least once, Kazaar," and he'd gone along on that part.

"Who is it?" a slightly scared, slightly defiant voice came from behind th'door.

The Rebel spy's face twisted into a smirk and he answered before 'The Kid' could.

"Yeh," Kazaar's normally guttural voice was raised 'bout an octave and accented...somehow, Estelle wasn't sure what dialect it was.

"I gotta delivery for a Julio (pronounced JEW-lee-oh) Miettinen. Anyone there by that name?"

"No!" was the quick reply.

Kazaar's smirk got bigger at both th'reply and the glare 'The Kid' quickly shot him.

Estelle quickly took over, while her partner casually leaned against th'hall's wall and lit one of his ever-present cigars.

"It's us, Zadge. We wanted to check up on you."

[Zadge Talran]

It was hard to say which was worse: not knowing who was behind the door, or knowing that it was Kazaar. Zadge took some relief from the sound of Estelle's voice, which indicated reason and restraint, but he still didn't move to open the door. Instead, the man merely stared hard at it, as if he could build a protective forcefield with the power of his retinas alone. He waggled his fingers for good measure. "Go..." Wriggle, wriggle, "...Away."

Dayboy gave him a withering look, slapped the back of his head, and wrenched the door open to admit the two agents.

"Ow," Zadge grumbled, replacing his glasses that had been knocked sideways. His new roommate ignored his complaint, probably because she'd discovered he was wont to do so at the slightest provocation.

"Renton's place is a decoy." Day' announced, picking up a nearly-forgotten pastry and devouring it in one enormous bite. "I's go' nuffing in i'."

Zadge nodded in agreement, took a cautionary step backwards, and shrugged his shoulders. "Not so much as an appointment card. Although there were some very suspicious dust patterns."

[Estelle Russard]

"Dust" Kazaar echoed with a huge grin and a friendly chuckle, which, for anyone who knew him, recognized the sarcasm that warned trouble was comin'.

Estelle gave her partner a restraining glare, Zadge was new at this. Aurelias needed to remember that. And that Zadge was just a kid.

She jumped into the conversation quickly.

"So, Renton cleared out quickly. He's spooked, obviously."

It was not good news. A target warned is a target armed.

"You will have to be very careful from now on" she said. Talran nodded, but Dayboy seemed not to give a frack as she licked donutty fingers. Russard repressed a sigh. She knew that cavalier, rules apply to everyone-but-me attitude anywhere.

She turned again to Kazaar, speaking as if it were just the two of them present, "You think he knows about these two?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar exhaled smoke and gave a lazy grin, "If I had two wanna-be rebels taken from under m'nose, I'd sure as hell would wanna know who got 'em.

"Specially if creds were involved."

'The Kid' nodded, understanding what the promise of credits could do t'people. She'd definitely come a long way from th'bright-eyed agent Kazaar'd encountered over a year ago.

"Hey Specks," the bodyguard called, "Where does ya pal like t'hang out? Or does he spend all his time trying t'be a tough guy?"

[Zadge Talran]

Zadge made a face. It had been a priority of Renton's to introduce Zadge into Coruscant's social scene, despite his protests. While the scrawny scrap of a man would have been happy to never leave his apartment (that was what food delivery was for, after all), his swanky associate would have none of it. At least once a week Zadge had found himself huddled in the corner of some bar, dutifully ignoring everything around him except the chrono on his wrist.

"Erm, well," There plenty of dives that Renton frequented, but there was one that they'd gone to more than the others. He pinched at the bridge of his glasses, trying to remember the name. "He likes The Laser Lounge."

Dayboy nodded her agreement, already well onto her millionth cupcake. "Yup. Digs th'dancers there."

The mere mention of the leggy Twilek dancers caused a flush to spread across Zadge's face, scarlet against pasty white. He cleared his throat highly. "Right. So, um, right. He goes there a lot."

The man paused, a breath between his cheeks, and then adopted a pained look. "Annd we're going too, aren't we?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar smirked and pointed his index finger towards Specks, "Ya got it, pal. We're gonna check it out. See if ya boy is there."

"He isn't my--," Zadge started t'say but then realized the smoking Rebel wasn't listening. Of all the...

"Can't have any of ya going out like that," Kazaar interupted Zadge with a sly smile, "Kid, go grab some of that getup ya used on Felucia. Figure ya still have it...'cept the boots of course. Get Tats dolled up'n meet us back here."

Kazaar reached into his jacket, then tossed a bottle of blonde dye towards Zadge. It was pretty obvious what he wanted done.

"Time ya Wannabes started earning ya keep."

[Estelle Russard]

Russard got up to leave, expecting Dayboy to follow suit. When she stayed where she was, taking her time and licking her fingers in what could only be described as 'indecent', Estelle gave Kazaar a blank look. Why'd he fob the rebellious one on to her?

"You like Gregore?" she asked Dayboy, who immediately halted the fingers thing. Yep, nothing like designer to get a girls attention. "I got some all-in-ones you might fit...."


Dayboy grabbed her coat and another cupcake, cufffed Zadge across the back of the head as she passed him on the way out.

"We'll see you there at 11" Estelle told Kazaar. "Dont be late" she warned with a hard look.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar smirked when the hotel's crummy door closed with a *thud*.


Dames...

'Specks' was still standin' there, holding th'dye like it was some kinda hot potato. It was pretty obvious he didn't want that going into his head.

"It's temporary, ya frackin' goon," the Rebel spy smirked, "Put it in. Change ya face, change who ya are.

"And get rid of those damn glasses of yours too. I got someone who can get ya new ones. New clothes too. Ya look like some kinda bedraggled Kowakian monkey-lizard."

Zadge said something under his breath, which sounded like some kinda insult 'bout his clothes. Kazaar shot a glare towards th'wanna-be tech and 'Specks' shrivelled.

A smirk from Kazaar.

"Move it!"

Zadge shot from view and the former bounty hunter settled back inna rickety chair, puffed on his cigar, and smirked.

It was times like this he frackin' loved his job.

[Zadge Talran]

Twenty minutes later...

He looked ridiculous.

"I look ridiculous." Zadge winced at his reflection in the 'fresher mirror, running a hand over his newly-shorn and dyed locks. Admittidly the white-blonde spikes had really worked a transformation, but the awkward man wasn't convinced it was a good thing. Thank the stars his hair grew quickly.

The clothes weren't helping, either. Stripped of his beloved band tees and comfortably worn trousers, Zadge had been left to cope with an obscene paisley-print shimmersilk blouse. It's cuffs were overlarge and boasted no less than six pearled buttons apiece, resulting in a muffled tussle as he'd laboured at fastening them. There was not a single redeeming factor about the garment, which added insult to injury with it's unabashedly fuschia sequins.

With a sqeaking sound--he was poured into a pair of black leather pants--Zadge shuffled out, a mutinous glare on his face. The glasses still perched lopsidely on his nose, giving him a clear view of Kazaars amusement.

"There has to be a better way of going about this." Zadge squirmed, the leather squelching with his every move, "A way that doesn't involve quite so much chafing."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Least ya hair ain't pink," Kazaar smirked from his chair. He'd changed his hair, dying it an almost reddish-black, while he'd affixed a temporary goatee on his chin. He looked like some kinda holo-villain, but the kinda ya stayed away from, not th'kind ya mocked. As usual, a cigar was clenched between his teeth.

One thing 'Specks' noticed...Kazaar's clothes remained th'same.

"Let's go," Kazaar rose from his chair and headed for the door.

It was too early t'head for the club, Zadge noticed and asked where they were going.

"To getcha new glasses, ya moron. You're fracking giving yourself away with those damn things."

Hopelessly, Zadge followed Kazaar out into th'streets of Coruscant. They didn't travel far, heading to a small, dringy lookin' shop 'bout a mile away. The wannabe was huffing and puffing when they arrived, while Kazaar seemed pretty conditioned (even with his constant smoking).

A bell *tinkled* as they strolled in and Kazaar nodded to th'clerk.

"What can I do for ya?" the clerk was Toydarian, his paunch gut sticking out from his leather jerkin.

"We need some glasses," Kazaar said without haste, his voice more rasp, then his usual smooth guttural tone.

The Toydarian smiled and motioned them forward with a three-fingered hand. "Come here...I have plenty..."

[Estelle Russard]

ayboy had helped herself to the choicest options Estelle's alter-ego closet had to offer and Russard couldn't deny - the girl had the attitude to go with the outfits.

Estelle had always needed to affect hers - determinedly walking with that dominatrix strutt that always was expected to accompany black leather or glossy red vinyl, but with Dayboy it just came natural. Russard envied her a little. It would be nice to be so confident in one's own skin.

"Whaddya think?" Dayboy had settled on the Nexu print blouse and black mini shorts, wrapping a metal-link belt around her slim hips. The heels she chose lifted her to an inch taller than Russard.

"Looks good" Estelle said with a smile, choosing for herself a more tempered look of white shirt and gold leather jeans. Hers was to be a secondary role with Dayboy and Zadge drawing more of the attention. While focus was on the new pair, Kazaar and Estelle could operate under less scruitiny. At least, that was the plan.

"Hey, Can I keep this stuff?"

ayboy didn't waste time.


"Consider it already yours" Estelle replied, checking her chrono and motioning the girl out the room. "Lets not keep them waiting"

[Zadge Talran]

"But I like my glasses."

Zadge's protest was pointedly ignored by both Kazaar and the Toydarian, who dissapeared through a lopsided curtain into the back of the shop. The two humanoids waited, Zadge fingering his beloved spectacles nervously. He'd worn the same style since he was twelve, and the thick-squared rims were as much a part of him as were his arms and legs.

A clatter from the backroom drew their attention, and the curtain parted majestically. Instead of the Toydarian, a tall, impossibly thin man with perfectly-coiffed hair emerged. There was an air of gentility surrounding him, and despite his obscenely bright guayabera and heeled boots, it was impossible not to take him seriously. A filigreed nametag introduced him as Philipe.

"Oh, yes, I can see what you mean, Zekko," Philipe called over his shoulder, presumably to his boss. Zadge shifted uncomfortably as the man more than moved into his personal space, sadly shaking his head at the glasses. "Those are hideous. Very warehouse-grunge, not working for you."

Heheld three trays in his manicured hands, which were gracefully set down on a countertop. Philipe studied Zadge, a puzzled expression on his delicate face. "Strange, you have wonderful taste otherwise. Love the shirt - Brogendorfs, right? I have it in ochre, delicious!"

Before Zadge's mind could catch up, Philipe had whisked his old lenses off and replaced them with a marbled blue pair. "Now these are new, an exact replica of the pair Si Silem wore for the Three Twi'lek's premiere. Intelletual, yet playful. No?" Quick as a flash his nimble hand had set them back in their place and handed Zadge a set of red frames, decorated with little rainbow gems.

"Uh, I don't think--" Zadge had hardly spoken before Philipe nodded and snatched them back up.

"Too CoCo, right? I was thinking the same thing. Great minds!"

Kazaar seemed to be enjoying this too much, and in-between trying to make sure he didn't look like a complete moron (honestly, who wore glowing lime glasses shaped like Naboo palms?) he glared at the agent with obvious contempt.

They had almost exhausted all their options, when Philipe held up one finger. "Wait," His voice intoned somberly. "I think I have them." He pulled a smaller box from behind the others, and reverently opened the lid. "Now these," Philipe whispered as he pushed the tangerine, wing-tipped glasses onto Zadge's nose, "Are definitely gorgeous. Understated intelligence, with something that just screams, 'I'm dangerous.'"

He procured a little mirror from his pocket and held it up so Zadge could peer at his new, dandy self. It was relatively painful, but he had to admit that not even Renton would be able to recognize him.

"Philipe." Zadge shook his head, jaw taut. "They're... delicious."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Not bad Specks," Kazaar turned his gaze from the spectacled Talran t'the rows of shirts adorning th'wall.

"'ey Phil..."

"It's Philipe."

"Yeh, yeh whatever," Kazaar waved off th'correction, "Ya ever been to th'Laser Lounge?"

The outgoing Philipe almost beamed, "Such a wonderful place to go. Why I saw BoSS Code play there not last month. Such a fantastic set! You should've seen the after-party. It was absolutely exquisite!"

Kazaar wasn't impressed, "That's great Phil. Ya think that shirt up there might fit in?" The Rebel spy pointed to a long-sleeved black shirt with two broad red stripes running down the front. The cuffs were red too.

Philipe took a moment t'stare at the shirt, then at Kazaar, and back at the shirt. Kazaar could almost swear he saw th'gears turning in th'guy's head.

"Why I think it would, Cas," Philipe mused somehow making his outlandish voice sound thoughtful (Zadge noticed Philipe called the large Rebel 'Cas' not 'Kazaar'). "It would simply look di-VINE on you."

"Great. I'll take it. Also gimme one of those D.T. Spool T-shirts," Kazaar black eyes flashed at th'disguished Wanna-be, "Medium oughta do it."

The Toydarian storeowner, Zekko, pulled down the shirt from the rack and handed it to Kazaar, who promptly tossed it t'Talran.

"Don't ever say I didn't give ya anything, Specks."

Philipe grasped Zadge by the arm and started showing him to the dressing room. When they were outta an earshot, Philipe spoke, his voice oddly quiet and not as feminine.

"You always need to mix in real with unreal whenever you want to fit in," he gave a knowing smile, "It's one of the first rules.

A nod towards where Kazaar stood, "He's tough. But he and that brown-haired fox do a helluva job."

The 'Philipe' winked.

"Good luck."

[Estelle Russard]

"The Laser Lounge" was appropriately named, with beams of neonic light criss-crossing the crowded, dark interior in random and frenetic time with the beat of the extraordinarily loud base that seemed to pulse in, and through, ones skull, brain and total mental coherency.

Estelle hated these kind of places. She was more a classics girl - not quite the chamber-music type, but close enough. Despite her youth, this club scene had never really appealed to her. Even before her days of joining the Alliance, her taste had run more to the alternative and ecclectic style of a solo musician saying "something" important to their generation. This popular head-banging, thudding racket never really did anything for her, but give her a headache. Dayboy, on the other hand, seemed to delight in it.

The girl appeared to spring to life, and even though she and Russard had to push their way through packed bodies in order to navigate the room, Dayboy managed to dance and swerve her way by without any trouble.

Estelle scanned the crowd, searching for Kazaar's telltale cigar smoke, but couldnt find him. "Lets get some drinks" she shouted over her shoulder to Dayboy above the din, and Dayboy nodded her agreement.

With effort, they squeezed their way to the bar - a black glass affair that had a space battle of x-wings and tie fighters cleverly etched into its surface, with running laser lights firing, hitting and exploding their targets in flickering luminous fashion.

"Ladies! Couple o' "Space Junks" for ya? - they're on special tonight" the barman suggested enthusiastically.

"Sure, sounds good" Estelle replied. "Is it always this crowded here, or is this a special occassion?"

"Both" said the barman, mixing the Junks with finese and giving a solitious wink to Dayboy. "Got Gisele dancin' tonight. She's a favorite - there's always a crowd with Gisele." He pushed the drinks forward to the girls, a violet, blue, black production that looked pretty dangerous. "Shall I start a tab for ya, ladies?"

"Yep - and keep these coming" chipped in Dayboy, taking a gulp from the purple concoction.

"Take it easy" Estelle admonished as the barman moved away, "We're here to work. Lets keep our heads."

Estelle ignored Dayboy's rolling eyes, and wondered to herself, just when did she become so....old.

"I see them" Dayboy said, adding, "Least, I think its them"

[Zadge Talran]

Zadge's complaints had stilled at the shop, once he'd gotten out of that awful paisley-disaster and into his Kazaar Shirt (he would never be able to call it anything else.) It was blessedly comfortable and retaining something of his normal self was calming.

And Zadge needed all the calm he could get for The Laser Lounge.

"Oh loz noy jitat, I hate this place." The man muttered, cringing as a drunk patron slopped alcohol on him on her way to the dance floor. In a crowd like this, with a frame like his, just getting to the bar was hazardous. Like a pinball, Zadge was jostled and bumped until Kazaar took pity on him and shoved him forward.

It was enough to propel him out of the worst of the crowd. WIth a relieved sigh, Zadge stumbled over to the bar. He wouldn't have recognized the ladies, had not Dayboy tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh, he--" Zadge was cutoff as the woman leaned down and kissed him passionately, arm lacing around his shoulders. Confused, he struggled against her, but she had one hand in his hair and was stronger anyway.

Finally she pulled back, grinning. "Hey. Had to make it look like I was waitin' for you."

"Uh, um, good job?" Zadge stammered, trying not to stare at her chest. Or her legs. Or anywhere that wasn't her eyes. Dayboy laughed and handed him a drink.

"You look like a frackin' q-tip."

"Right, yeah. Um, so, hi," Zadge nodded at Estelle before glancing around casually, face still flushed dark red. "Seen him yet?"