Slumdog Alpha [Yarbuck & s'Ilancy]

[Sanis Prent]

Nar Shadaa

"This is a fucking bad idea."

By my count, it was the twentieth time I'd said it since I got tapped for this mission. Before I'd thrown my chit in with the Rebels, I could've just walked. Now, I was soulbound to ideas good and bad that weren't mine.

Looking at the viewport I sighed. Nar Shadaa even looked like a rusty piece of shit from space. It only got more detail-oriented the closer you got. The planet was even surrounded by a thin corona of space trash and orbital detritus. Years ago, I'd left and sworn I'd never come back. Now...

My comm line was backed up with about a dozen incoming sales pitches for landing space. No planetary traffic grid here, no, instead just a few hundred private-owned starports with their own traffic spotters, their own rules, and their own issues. No wonder there was so much junk in orbit. One had to wonder how many starship collisions happened here.

I bumped each landing pitch with a low-ball offer, trying to see if I could whittle the rip-off landing prices down to something that was very cheap. It was understood that everything on Nar Shadaa was a hustle. Only an idiot took the offer given them.

Disgusted, I nipped from my hip flask as I watched the comms come in, and looked at my very familiar passenger.

"Let me get this straight again. We're after a Rebel slicer that, by all accounts, could be orbital vapor and not even made it to the planet. No communication, no nothing. Just a safe house and a pick-up date?"

I shook my head.

"I know why Dan sent me here, because he's an asshole. I'm sorry he made you have to come too."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

This was degrading. Or at least a part of her felt that way. The other part was more than a bit amused. It was a strange sort of duality that existed in her thoughts as Lok s'Ilancy looked out the forward viewport at the utter... mess... around them.

She rolled her eye at the name-calling, angling her head away from the sight in front of her. She made a face.

"I would imagine that it's because I'm not as angry as he thinks I should be over your... "

s'Il gave a wave of her hand as trying to verbally describe Layla's more recent noseart was somewhat beyond her.

[Sanis Prent]

I finally finished the calculus of haggling over rates, and picked a starport that didn't seem like a scam. My nav computer was fed waypoints for the port, and I followed it in, minding the bigger bits of floatsam as I descended the orbitals.

"That, and I guess to use your Jedi powers to sniff this guy out when this planet chews him up and shits him out. Just how street smart do you think a slicer's gonna be exactly?"

We plowed through the smog, floating down through the layers of traffic to the dreary high-rises that comprised the Vertical City. Like Coruscant and Carshoulis Prime, this was a planetary metropolis. Keyword: was. There hadn't been any respectable industry on Nar Shadaa in centuries. The biggest exports now were depression, crime, and squalor.

"At any rate, I'll put us down about ten clicks from that safehouse. We can take the Cat the rest of the way."

We approached what looked to be a hangar on the roof of a large skyscraper. The roof of the hangar was a mottled patch of flaking paint and rust. It creaked open to reveal an oil-stained landing pad, which I gently touched down on.

I began the cooldown procedures, noting a pair of Grans walking toward my ship. They were either the proprietors of the hangar, or free-loaders looking to get a few chits out of "protection". Either way, they were shady as hell, but the worst part was that it was just business as usual.

With a sigh, I tapped the comm linked to below deck.

"Cirr, stay with the ship while we're out. There's nothing to see, and honestly I'd like you to flash your scary mug at any glit-head that looks like they might steal the repulsors out from under us."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cinching his tool belt around his waist, Cirr paused to tap the wall comm, a knowing smile on his face.

"Aww, you mean jI don't get to see yourr old nejighborrhood? See yourr old frrjiends? Meet the parrents?"

He was skating on thin ice, because he knew exactly what kind of touchy subject this was with his human friend.

That there was no response from Sanis was enough for him. He could feel the human glowering through the comm from three decks up.

"Don't worrry, jI've got ourr gjirrl coverred. Nobody jacks my shjip."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It wasn't so much a blank stare that she sent to Sanis, rather it was just... a strange sort of look coupled with a grimace. She would've normally been quick to her feet, ready to leave the confines of most ships in favor of solid ground. At least Layla was large enough to keep her normal spacesickness from becoming such an overt problem. It probably helped that she'd spent enough time aboard Sanis' ship as well.

But, this being her first time to actually see Nar Shaddaa, the Lupine was hard-pressed to make any efforts in completing the 'experience' and step foot outside. From her view, everything looked so incredibly... dirty. No. No, this was beyond simply dirty.

"I do not think that I like Nar Shaddaa," she finally admitted in a low voice, hands on the buckle of her crashwebbing but refusing to unclasp it.

[Yarbuck Amilion]

The glare of the old cantina lights was and the loud noises of the cantina, were barely enough to distract yarbuck from his target. The man was siting at the bar sipping on something Yarbuck was not familiar with. He could sense a nervousness about the man. He was supposed to be arresting him discreatly but Yarbuck had not seen an oppurtunity. The man would have to make some kind of illegal move for it not to look like yarbuck was just taking him in.

Of course there was the question of who he was doing this for. The corellian police the last few weeks had shown corruption and involvment with the empire. And it wasn't often that they sent one of their few good officers to a place like Nar Shadda. How ever ever since it had bencome involved with the empire it had become more of a space wide group. Their were corellian officers every where in space now. Which had troubled Yarbuck.

Now he was told to arrest this man. He had also been given info that he was some kind of politician who stood up against the empire. How ever, Yarbuck felt compelled to reward him instead of arresting him. There were few these days willing to stand up to the empire. Yarbuck had had his own little stand up a few weeks ago. He refused to killed unarmed men. Which probably explained why they sent him to a crap planet like Nar Shadda.

Yarbuck just sat at the table with his water watching the man. He made no moves other than a few looks about and continusly drinking his drink. Yarbuck had for a while been training him self to sense something coming with the force before it did. It wasn't going so well for him. The fact that he was force sensitive was oblivious to almost every one else. Not even his cheif knew. Of course Yarbuck had no way of really doing any thing with it. He had heard of a few existing jedi for a while but there was confusion on weather or not they were with the empire or against it. He felt it not likely that they could have survived the massacure so he regarded the rumor as false.

At last the man showed signs of getting up and he began to walk to the other side of the cantina. Yarbuck would have moved but he caught something. He was being watched. Threw the reflection in his blaster on his hip he could see a cloacked man sitting there burning a whole threw Yarbuck with his eyes. Yarbuck pretended not to see him and continued on following the man. As he did Yarbuck began to put it all together. This wasn't an arrest. This was an assassination and he and the man were both targets. He had devoloped intuition over a career of following bad guys. But he was safe for now. The assassin wouldn't doing any thing to him in a room with all kinds of scum and mercinarys waiting for action. They began to leave the cantina and sure enough the assassin followed.

[Sanis Prent]

"I do not think that I like Nar Shaddaa," she finally admitted in a low voice, hands on the buckle of her crashwebbing but refusing to unclasp it.

"Home sweet home." I muttered darkly, rising from my seat to gather a few belongings.

I checked my blasters and shell gun. No way I was going anywhere unarmed. You don't underestimate the streets.

We climbed down the ladder work to the lower deck. Cirr was already waiting for us, slipping a shirt on as he leaned against a bulkhead.

"Keep me in the loop. If you see anything that looks sideways, let me know."

The felinoid gave a nod as we piled into the Cat, and began the warm-ups. The shuttle bay door parted, and we were soon aloft in the Nar Shadaan sky. The city lights were everywhere, but the stars and moons were obfuscated by a smoggy patina, coating everything with a nauseating burnt orange color.

"Alright, first thing's first. Let's hit that safehouse up."

It would be a layup if our slicer was holed up there without incident. I hoped he was.

The safehouse was just a few kilometers off. Nestled apparently in a block of ramshackle apartments across a sky alley from a seedy looking cantina. I put the shuttle down after swinging around again to check for anybody casing the joint or any signs of trouble. Aside from being a typical slum, it was about as normal as Nar Shadaa got.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine watched from beneath half-closed eyelids, still in a small bit of denial after her first view of the Vertical City.

"I know that I once called this place 'colorful', but I would like to retract my previous statement."

Now, seeing the slums and alleys and general chaos of his home city, she understood why he'd left.

It made her all the more glad that she'd only brought her old pair of slugthrowers. She'd not even packed her lightsabre, instead leaving it back on the Dauntless. Looking out at the ruin before her she was instantly glad for the decision, and as soon as the shuttle touched down she was up and out of her seat.

"Let's hurry," she grumped, "... I fear that if I am here for too long I will need some form of shot from too much exposure."

[Sanis Prent]

The walk to the apartment was a stroll I was familiar with. If you had a ship, you could be assumed to have some money. People started stepping up, hawking everything from knock-off jewelry and purses to hardcore drugs, to sex.

The trick, you see, is to just keep walking. If somebody crowded you too close, you...

*smack*

"Fuck off!"

I glowered at some death stick pusher as I checked him at his chest, pushing him back off the path.

"Easy mate, I'll cut you!"

I peeled back my jacket just enough to expose enough gun handle to get my point across.

"You push on me or my girl again and I will fucking burn your tweak ass and throw you off the canyon. Back the fuck off."

After that, we had a slightly more peaceful walk to the slums.

[Yarbuck Amilion]

Yarbuck rushed threw the crowd as the man he was following began to run. He must have caught his tails shadow. Yarbuck turned around to see the assassin getting closer. He had only one choice. To disappear into the crowd.

He Dove into the crowd walking with it allowing him self to disappear. He poped out on the other side and began to run. There was no point in just discharging his blaster at the assassin yet. He wanted to see his face.

He ran into some blasted kid selling death sticks. The man looked furious.

"Again!."

Yarbuck looked at him as he drew a small vibro blade. Yarbuck reflexes were the only thing that moved his hand to catch the mans wrist as he thrusted. Yarbuck lifted his arm and slugged the man in the ribs. He fell over letting go of the knife. Yarbuck stepped over him.

He looked back and saw the assassin now getting closer. He turned back and began to run but ran into the back of a woman who was walking with another man.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was no real thought in her mind as she acted, and planting her feet solidly on the grime-encrusted walkway, the Lupine threw an elbow back. She felt it connect solidly with her assailant's face.

Rather than turn around to ascertain the level of damage, s'Il simply stood fuming. She brushed herself down, both arms and then her sides as if she'd just walked out of a trash bin.

"This is intolerable."

A finger was leveled at Sanis.

"And it's all your fault."

Of course it wasn't really, but he was the most readily available, and therefor made to shoulder the blame.

[Sanis Prent]

Turning, I looked to see a flustered-looking man sporting some Corellian garb and a well-polished holster. Not exactly a local. I went to open my mouth in the beginnings of another invective-laden verbal assault, and I paused, looking beyond him at a guy in a cloak who was obviously bearing down on us with tunnel vision.

"What the hell."

I took two steps back to disassociate from this entanglement, catching s'Il by the crook of her arm.

"This is too much drama for me, let's go."

[Yarbuck Amilion]

As the womans elbow connected with his noise, Yarbuck lurched his head back and held his noise. He didn't have time to look at the woman he crashed into. He turned around and ducked under blaster fire. The assassin was making his move. He jumped out of the crowd and ran towards yarbuck.

Before yarbuck could pull his pistol out there was a thermal detonater flying at the 3. With out thinking he raised his hand and force pushed it back at the assassin who kicked it away.

Yarbuck stood puzzled for a moment then looked back up at the assassin who was flipping towards him with a vibro blade and a blaster. Instictivly, Yarbuck jumped back leaning his head back as the vibro blade went right over it.

Before he landed he had drawn his blaster and as he landed he fired a shot into the assassin. The body fell infront of him. Yarbuck laid on the ground panting and then looked up at the two who he had interupted.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

ooc: just to clarify, s'Il did not headbutt Yarbuck. She elbowed him in the face.



There really weren't any coherent string of words that the Lupine could find to adequately describe her confusion at the scene which had unfolded before her and Sanis.

She turned a sideways look to Sanis, confusion etched deeply into her features.

"Does... does this happen often around here?"

[Sanis Prent]

"Well, people get killed here all the time, but..."

I aped my colleague's sense of confusion at the high acrobatic fight that had just taken place. The stink of ozone and burnt clothing and flesh was still fresh.

It hadn't even occurred to me to draw my own weapon. For what it's worth, the Corellian gunslinger seemed pretty spent and didn't look like starting anything with us.

"No trouble, friend. No trouble."

I calmly stepped to the side, working so that we could continue on our way. By this point, even the street hawkers had split for whatever shadow they could duck under. Nobody wanted to get blasted, and nobody wanted to look like they witnessed a murder that meant something. There wasn't really any law here other than the Hutt Kadjics, but the less you had to deal with them, the better.

[Morgan Evanar]

Pain blossomed in Morgan’s right cheek as the big left fist of the Gran landed just below his eye. His head twisted, letting his body take away some of the energy of the blow. Morgan snapped back to face his opponent nearly as quickly. He dropped his hands away from his face, and playfully tagged the Gran in the side.

“You call that banthashit a punch? My Mom hits harder than you do.” Morgan said in Gran. No offense to the Gran, it was true. Morgan knew what was coming next, and relaxed his abdominals some. He didn’t want to break anyone’s hand. Krak Leen, the Gran in question, socked Morgan in the stomach as hard as he could. Air stubbornly popped from Morgan’s lungs. He tagged the Gran in the chest on the way down to the double-over, to give himself some breathing (ha ha) room. Morgan clumsily stumbled back into the bar. The bartender gave him a shove away. She was especially keen to see the wiry man get what was coming to him. He’d been crude earlier, and while he tipped well, the misogyny had gone past tiresome. Truth be told, she had no information, and it was a way to rile up some of the regulars, like Krak.

Krak was a seasoned spacer, a freight captain who had been running Mid-Rim routes for almost as long as Morgan had been alive. Spacer info was the best info, the trick was talking to them. Morgan had found that taking a beating might get you a free drink, and with drinks came talking. He knew the well worn gleam, every from a Gran.

Krak exploded upward as Morgan’s jaw came forward first. It should’ve jacked the tall man square off his feet. Instead, he stiffened in a cartoonish fashion and hit the ground as a fallen tree would. Krak’s first mate, a slightly overweight twi-lek, waited. He didn’t want the loudmouth killed, just some pain. He kicked Morgan in the side, not hard, but enough to wake someone from a haymaker.

“Hey dummy, you alive?” Krak asked. He was worried he might have killed the bastard. That would be a lot of paperwork. Morgan coughed, and raised a single finger as the answer to the question.

“Well, if that’s the case, you can get your own damn self up.” The mate grunted. Morgan coughed-laughed. He turned his head and spat a pat of reddish saliva onto the floor. Morgan pulled himself up, both hands on the bar, and back into the stool he so recently occupied.

“Round on me for the crew of the Greener Pastures.” Morgan bellowed.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

They stood in a ramshackle, rundown excuse of a living space; the wallpaper had to be as old as she was, and the general air about the place was anything but acceptable. There was a musty odor that was ever-present, and a neon orange placard from outside the window cast everything in a constant amber glow.

But the worst part about it all, was that this apartment was empty. There was no slicer waiting for them.

With her shoulders rolling back into the first stages of impatient, boiled-over frustration, s'Il bit her lip fiercely before letting out a hissed breath followed by an acidic curse in Bast'yr.

"Keh'a'ni'aveh, Sanis. I thought this slicer was supposed to wait for us."

An utterly disgusted look to the thin carpeting (which was torn up in more than one place), and she made a face.

"Where is he."

[Sanis Prent]

"Probably the same place that smoking corpse of an idiot is back there."

I looked at s'Il with a I hate to admit I told you so look on my face. This was a blue milk run that was turning up empty. A complete fucking waste of time.

"Let's get the hell off this shithole. Wait, better yet, I need a drink or two, and then let's get the hell off this shithole."

I kicked a piece of floatsam across the floor with disgust.

"I fucking hate this planet."

With that, we back-tracked the way we came, finding an appropriately scummy-looking bar midway back to the Cat.

"Ever had real Nar Shadaan Jurnysgrog?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd come to an abrupt halt just inside the door, her back ramrod straight as her senses were assailed and set upon from all side. The noise, the stench, the sight of so many unkempt and unclean bodies - there was even a taste of grime tinging the air she now breathed. Her entire body seemed to stiffen, and she gave a winced look to Sanis.

"I'd rather not," she very nearly whimpered.

It was an odd sound, coming from one such as her.

"I'd like to simply... go. Leave."

A brief pause, and she finished in a whisper.

"And never return."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan mostly acted his punch-drunkeness. He rode the pain of his cheeks and jaw. The bartender looked at him like he'd lost it. But it was Nar Shadda, and there were all types with more than a fair share of lunatics.

"How is your jaw not broken?" She asked, filling a mug of ale. Morgan rubbed his jaw and winced.

"Strong bones." He replied simply.

"What, durasteel?" She asked with a chuckle, and served the mug to him.

"Nah, carbon fiber mostly." He grinned through bloodstained teeth, and took a gulp. It wasn't great, but it was cold and alchoholic. The bite of the drink against the torn lips brought clarity and focus. A small, scratchy feeling ran across his brain. Someone was looking around, and not in the normal sort of way. Was it the Inquisitoriate? He hoped not. Best to keep hidden in the open, loud and stupid. He got up, mug in hand, and stumbled around the bar to join the Captain and crew. That swell bunch came all the way from the other end of the oval bar to kick his ass.

His eyes scanned the room in seeming erratic patterns befitting someone in his damaged state. The blonde looked familiar. It was her. He didn't need to feel it. He could tell from the way she carried herself, and the scar.

He stumbled into Sanis, who wasn't sticking out in his brain. Morgan laughed.

"Sorry man." He said, and picked his body up straight. "Hey, haven't I seen your girlfriend before? Barefoot?"