Re: Spies Like Us

Kix smiled nervously at the offer to dance. He wasn't one to really partake in social activities such as this, and the last time he actually danced was during his youth on Naboo. After he enlisted in the Empire after Thrawn's death and was shipped off to Carida, his social life also ended as well. The only social time he had now was shoreleave, hence why he and Cadman were here.

The Imperial officer found himself determined not to give up so easily after she pleasantly declined his offer to spend time with him afterward. Perhaps the dance would help to steer things another direction? He would show Val'kia what he was made of– he was cunning and resourceful as well.

"Why, of course, Val… if I can call you that?" he replied, his grin returning. "I would be honored in a dance. I'm told I can make an Imperial walker seem light on its feet." He took her by the hand and pointed her toward the dancefloor, subtly winking to Nash.

The band continued with the number as he stepped onto the dance floor and he put his hand around her small waist, feeling the delicate curve of her back through the thin material of her attire. She stepped in close to him, and at the gentle urging of the music, they moved as one.

"You're not bad on your feet, Kix," she whispered.

"Thanks. I rarely get to use them to dance. Shall we see what happens now?" With a grin he dipped her, then twirled her slowly around. Kix couldn't help admiring how her simple outfit showed off her figure. He felt his heart rate kick up a little, like a stormtrooper going into battle. When she smiled, as she was doing now, her eyes sparkled, and as she came close to him, he smelled her alluring perfume.

For Kix, the evening was now beginning to fly by. She was intensely curious about him, especially his most recent adventures. He told her of his academy days on Carida, his upbringing on Naboo, and of his recent visit to Tatooine.

He was careful not to say anything that a spy– or even an interested patron– might not pick up from other sources, or to provide any current information of strategic value. Yet he found that he enjoyed talking with her. She showed eager interest in his stories of battle and adventure. By the background she said of herself, he felt she'd lived a safe life– perhaps too safe for her taste.

The band finished and the music stopped. Kix took her hand then kissed it. "Lovely dancing with you, Val'kia…

… sure you are busy tonight?"

Re: Spies Like Us

Val'kia was most decidedly busy, so Alec decided against approaching to thank her for her kindness.  He did, however, rummage through his pockets to find a sizeable tip to pay for the mess he and the Trandoshan's had created.

Turning, Alec made to leave by the front doors, only to be stopped dead in his tracks as a burly alien, a Whiphid, it appeared, stumbled forward and collided powerfully with him.

"Easy," Alec muttered, detecting the distinct stench of alcohol and body odor.  The Whiphid was obviously drunk.  
Alec tried to push the staggering creature away, but it was like someone had deposited a bantha in his arms.  Luckily, he had a bar stool to lean against and eventually managed to right the bleary-eyed Whiphid.  

"Tanks, friend," the alien wheezed, collapsing awkwardly onto a seat by the bar.  Slamming his large, grimy fist on the counter, he bellowed out an order.  "Two drinks for me and…" the Whiphid squinted over at Alec and snorted through his nose, "…'dis guy."

Having already consumed at least three drinks that night, Alec was not particularly interested in having another.  He had never really been one for drinking and was not certain about his ability to hold his liqueur.  Already he could feel the hazy effects of his previous beverages and only wished to topple into one of his bunks aboard the Talella and sleep of the grogginess.

"I'm not…really…"

But the Whiphid did not appear to hear him.  "151 lum!" he croaked, leaning heavily on the bar and completely ignoring Alec's gentle but firm protestations.

The man behind the bar gave Alec a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as he set the glasses on the counter.  The Whiphid had pulled Alec into the seat beside him and currently had a very firm grip on his shoulder.  Picking up his tumbler with unnatural delicacy, he dropped it into his large gut, making a smacking noise.  Then he cast a rather feral glare at Alec.

Fingering the glass, Alec attempted a weak smile.  Perhaps the creature would just faint and leave him alone…

Lifting the rim of the glass to his lips, he took a tiny sip of the burning fluid.  The Whiphid chortled loudly, hiccuping, and slammed a grimy hand against Alec's back.

The intoxicated Whiphid seemed intent on seeing Alec through the entire glass of lum, so the smuggler had not choice but to comply.  The effects were almost immediate.  He felt dizzy and rather sick.  The Whiphid was laughing loudly now…then he toppled over the side of his stool and lay still on the floor.  Unconscious or simply sleeping.

"He's paying," Alec mumbled, eyes going slightly blurry as he staggered to his feet.  "I'll never drink again…"

The front doors wiggled before his vision, but once he found his feet the going was slightly better.  The soft bed aboard his ship had never seemed so welcoming.  Deciding that a slow and steady was preferable over anything faster, Alec wandered out of The 'Dive and started towards the general direction of the docking bay where he would find his ship.

He barely noticed the lizard-like creatures that had suddenly surrounded him…until one of them stepped into his path and almost sent him careening into another, who had come up behind him.

Kradssk, easily recognized by his size and the stink of his breath, leaned forward until his snout almost touched Alec's nose.  "We meet again, Harrp," he growled.

Lifting an unsteady finger, Alec tried to distract his attention from the other hand, which was fumbling for his blaster.  Only too late did he realize that it had already been removed from about his waist.  "Oh…frak…"

He barely had time to close his eyes against the onslaught of several scaley fists.

Re: Spies Like Us

Jerva Kutac stood near the boarding ramp of the YT-1300 freighter and made one final statement to the owner of the docking bay.

“Fine. Here’s 250 credits.”

The owner of the docking bay nodded. “Yes, that is agreeable. Your ship will not be disturbed here, for the next day and a half.”

Kutac nodded and made a shooing motion with his left hand. “That is …acceptable. Now, leave.”

Kutac watched the man leave, the pressed a button on a control panel recessed into the hull of his ship, and waited for the boarding ramp to raise, his ship protected against incursion by most of the denizens of Nar Shadda. He paused briefly, and patted the blaster pistol nestled in its tied down holster with his right hand as protection against the local inhabitants.

He frowned as he walked out of the docking bay, the heels of his scuffed black boots making little noise, as he strode carefully though the shadowy streets of the Smugglers’ Moon. He was coming around a corner, being careful to stay in the shadows, when he noticed a human being accosted by several Trandoshans. He frowned as the man, who was obviously drunk from the way that he nearly fell over as the lizard-like aliens surrounded him.

Kutac frowned. Maybe this guy knows where to find a good cantina.

He pressed deeper into the shadows and his right hand eased his Relby K-23 blaster pistol out of its holster. His frown deepened as he realized that there was no safe way to shoot any of the Trandoshans without a risk of hitting the man that they had surrounded. He drew a careful bead with his blaster pistol. His index finger eased back the firing stud, and a crimson bolt of energy scored the pavement near the feet of the big and ugly one in front of the man.

“Hey, bantha fodder for brains, how about a real fight?” Kutac smiled as the Trandoshan turned toward him, because if they started toward him, he could pick them off with his pistol easily…or so he hoped anyway, but at least they weren’t bothering the drunk guy any more, but now he had to deal with mad Trandoshans on a hunt.

Re: Spies Like Us

Val was almost tempted to change her mind and take Davin up on his restated invitation.  Although blondes usually weren’t her taste personally, there was no denying the young officer’s attractiveness and it had been a really long while since she’d spent any time with someone of the opposite sex.  Well other than Sionne, Cristoph or any of the other male employees of the ’Dive, and that was always only on a strictly professional level.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d slept with an Imperial.  That dubious distinction belonged to Daiman. Whore for the New Republic Sirana had called her that last day she had seen him and the words had stung at the time only because it was close to the truth.

Whether with the intent of putting them at ease enough to reveal more about military operation plans, to set them up for abduction and interrogation by others in Intel, and in the case of one particularly nasty assignment involving the assassination of a lower level Ubiqtorate officer, Val had seduced a fair number of agents of the Empire over her years of working as an Intel agent.  She was as highly proficient at it at it as she was with shooting, infiltration, and close quarters combat.  Just another skill that was necessary in her line of work.

However, Davin didn’t strike her as the type to open up and share anything that NRI would find useful no matter how charming the companion he was with and therefore, other than fulfilling some physical need, it would be a waste of her valuable time.

“I have really enjoyed your company this evening Commander, especially your underrated dancing skills,” Val told the gallant Davin in a regretful tone as they walked back toward the booth where Nash sat waiting,  “but I’m afraid I’m still going to have to decline.  Maybe next time the fleet spends leave on Nar Shaddaa I’ll take the night off should you decide to stop by my place again.”  She added with a lingering look that seemed to hold a sincere promise of future possibilities.  

As they neared the booth Val noticed the smuggler who’d had the run in with the Trandoshan’s earlier that evening walking out the door a more than a bit unsteadily.   She wondered if he’d make it to his ship okay and looked around the room for Si, intending on having him follow Alec discreetly just to assure his safety.  But the other agent was nowhere to be seen.  “Probably taking his break in the gaming room with his buddy Vortan.” She thought to herself before turning her attention back to the troopers.  “Can I get you gentlemen a refill before I go give some attention to the other customers?’ she asked.

Re: Spies Like Us

It was just about time to make his way back to the Claw And meet up with his Crew, So Erc turned to the Bartender, gave the Twi'Lek a smile and a healthy Tip and made his way for the door, a nod over to Sionne and a smirk over to Val, who despite not showing it, Saw the smirk.

"Not bad, the babe must have had some intel training to handle her dislike for me so well" He thought to himself.

He adjusted the Bryar, and then fixed the collar of his Vest when he heard the distinctive sound of a Blaster firing outside. Even if everyone in the bar had been eying him, not a single one would have seen his arm move arm move and raise the heavy Blaster. a well practiced and rapid manuver. what they would have seen was the drawing of the secondary weapon from inside his vest. it was designed to be drawn with his right hand, so drawing it as he did, with his left, it was a slower move.

He dashed headlong out the front door, into the streets of the Smuggler's Moon. Screaming behind him as he moved. "Weapons fire people, Everyone stay down."

He never once thought that anyone here would listen to him, but he felt it required to warn people now that he would be ready to kill anyone of them if they endangered him. The left hand, holding the smaller Blaster slapped the comm on his chest. "Tiny, Action alert. I'm transmitting, move on my position, if the Dug is with you, bring him. Have Spanner secure the ship."

Re: Spies Like Us

Kix settled back into the booth, while Nash gave him a wry grin as he downed the rest of his drink and placed it on the table. The Lt. Cmdr skillfully disengaged himself from the shoot-down he received from Val'kia– shedding it as easily as a duck sheds water, and pondered on what else to order from the bar as she asked. <I>Whatever else she is, she's a smooth social operator…</I>

He turned to Val, "I had a dark whiskey a few months ago while on Carida. A nice smoky bite, but I don't remember the name."

Nash glanced over to her. "He means a Whyren's Reserve, on the rocks."

"Well, that, but I've changed my mind to an Eyeblaster now."

Nash chuckled, stroking his goatee. "Are you sure? That's a fringer's drink."

"I can handle it," he said. "I have a stomach made of durosteel. It's part of what's kept me from embarrassing myself over the years."

"Right then, I'll take the Reserve for myself," Cadman interjected.

"Coming right up," Val replied, winking at him in a way that made him smile, then left.

"Well, there's always next time," Cadman snorted.

"Oh, there <I>will</I> be a next time," Kix shot back. He wasn't disappointed in the encounter at all, because it kept him at interest. He wanted to know about her. Everything about her. It was the nature of her evasiveness that both intrigued and frustrated him. She was, despite her smooth exterior, very human, very vunerable. In time, he will reveal everything.

He watched as her barhand mixed two kinds of transparent fluids, followed by a shot of red liquor, and shook the combination before pouring the result into a cocktail glass and garnishing it with a splash of Fizzy-Bip. He handed it to Val along with the whiskey and dropped it off to them at their table.

Kix took a deep sip of the Eyeblaster, licked his upper lip and smiled. "I will say this for the <I>Hyperdive</i>, they do make the best drinks here on this smog-infested moon."

Blaster fire was suddenly heard outside. Kix settled the drink on the table and felt for his holster. Nash sat upright from his slouched position, setting down his whiskey as well. He then noticed a burly, tough fringer rush his way outside shouting something about 'weapons' and 'staying down.'

"Looks like we got some action outside, Nash," Kix hinted, "think we should check it out?" With Val shooting him down, there wasn't much left to look forward to in this dive, so watching a light fight outside would be entertainment. As well, it could help to take out his frustration on some criminal.

Kix stood up and straightened the olive-drap cap on his head, quickly turning to Nash. "Gonna check out what's going on. You can come along or keep an eye on my drink."

The Imperial officer took a last glance at Val then made his way toward the exit.

Re: Spies Like Us

Val had made her way to the bar to get Nash and Kix’s drink orders, surprised with herself at the stab of regret she was having for not taking Davin up on his invitation. It would have been nice to spend a few hours with the handsome young officer just selfishly enjoying herself for a change.

But the job was, as always, more important she reminded herself for what had to be the billionth time in her adult life as she walked back over to the Imp’s table and set their drinks down.  The grin that the blue-eyed man flashed came damn close to making the redhead say to hell with the job for one night, but the disturbance near the front door saved her from saying anything to Kix.
 
“What the frell is he doing now?” was the first thought in Val’s head at hearing Vortan’s utterance as the tall fringer headed for the ’Dive’s front door, blaster in hand .  Cristoph dashed past her, his own weapon at ready, and caught up to Erc at the threshold.

“Wait and let me go out first.”  The slim blonde man told Vortan as he intercepted him.  Navin in the meantime had run through the cantina calling for Sionne, warning him they had trouble outside. The sentence was barely out of her mouth before the dark-skinned human rushed past her calling “Stay here” over his shoulder as he headed for the door.  

“Like hell.” His commanding officer thought with a frown as she made her way back to the front of the cantina, catching Davin’s glance before he and his fellow trooper made their way to the others already outside.  She looked around for Alema, but didn’t see her and realized she was probably somewhere in the back catching a short break.  Not seeing the sense in disturbing the few moments of quiet time the Twi’lek had enjoyed all evening, Val didn’t bother to alert her as well.

Instead she headed out the door herself just in time to see Sionne nearly take a glancing blaster bolt to the shoulder, fired at him by a member of what appeared to be the same gang of Trandoshan thugs that had attacked the polite dark-haired smuggler that had left the cantina just a short time earlier.  Looking toward the adjoining docking bay she saw the smuggler on the ground near the group of lizards, blood streaming from his mouth while a few feet away an unfamiliar bearded human was doing his best to help the downed man out.  

From around several of the corners and doorways of surrounding buildings, the armed men who had left the HyperDive at Vortan’s shouts of alarm were exchanging fire with the Trandos while trying to avoid hitting the Good Samaritan who’d come to Alec’s aid.

Re: Spies Like Us

It wasn't regulation that officers of the Imperial Navy had to be armed when they left for shoreleave, but Kix enjoyed having a sidearm on him always, just in case situations like this brewed up. And with the reputation that Nar Shaddaa had, it was no surprise something like this would happen. <I>Better safe than sorry</I>, he thought. The holstered sidearm he carried was a standard-issue Imperial blaster issued to officers, not the E-11's that the Empire's stormtroopers carried.

Kix looked back to see Nash trailing behind him as he stepped out into the foul-smelling air of the Smuggler's Moon outside the <I>Hyperdive</I>. The sound of blaster fire was in the distance and a stray blaster bolt suddenly zipped by the officers.

<I>Gah!</I> Kix crouched behind a recycler bin and drew out his small blaster. Nash clentched his hands into fists and  crouched, keeping a lookout.

"Trandoshans," Nash nodded ahead.

"How many?" Kix inquired.

"There are about five, from what I can see."

Kix added to his whisper. "So that's about two and a half each for us, eh? What else?"

"A few others have joined the fight, looks like the <I>Dive</I>'s patrons, and some bearded fellow."

Kix scratched his chin and peered through the half-fogged cover plate on the recycler's door. It looked like a fair fight, it seemed. He noticed the downed smuggler-type was beaten to a pulp and the bearded fellow was trying to divert the Trandoshan's attention away from him. The others had taken positions and exchanged fire.

"Well, any suggestions, Nash?" he whispered, still crouched. "I don't think jumping out and trying to mow'em all down with one blaster pistol will work. We need a diversion of some sort and be fast about it."

He was right. If they moved fast, they could cover the trigger-happy Trandos before they had a chance to reload and slap another power pack; they could disarm them, tie them up, and be heroes for the day. The trick was to do it before one of the goons got his comlink out to call for more of his scaly friends.

For now, he would wait and see what the others would do as he stayed crouched with an unarmed Nash.

Re: Spies Like Us

Funny. Totally out of ammo, respectively blaster, Nash gave a quick glance for something to throw… but even Nar Shaddaa’s littered streets didn’t lay missiles out ready for your casual needy trooper. Every.. and really every useful bit was screwd up or welded together. They probably knew why. Incredible.  

For a reasonable diversion his lager befogged brain momentarily drew a blank; Till.. ‘I need a blaster. They got. That’s exactly the wrong way ‘round.’ A second glance. “Alright,” he whispered, pointing at the Trandoshan closest who meantime appeared sufficiently diverted by the sight of his bleeding prey down, incoming bolts, as the bearded newcomer’s daring challenge. ‘Move left and draw aggro’ about what he gestured at Kix while fumbling some matt black combat knife from someplace halfway inside his right boot.

Kix signed OK. They went. One left, one right. Sneaking. Kix observed, saw Nash nearing the chosen.. and fired—in sync with the fringer who’d provoked them earlier on. With angry hiss the scaly creature jerked around, sending three energy bolts their direction… and ran right into eight inch destructively pointed his larynx. The trooper’s lunge came to abrupt halt in the bleeding heavyweight’s expectedly firm embrace.

Blazes. Something always had to go wrong. But at least Nash obstructed his blaster.. and the thing bled. Oh yes. And there were some more vulnerable points even with the scaly beasts. Nash remembered them all. Fervently. He hadn’t bought and studied all data about alien anatomy but for one singular reason. Just the frak—this species didn’t need manuals. In contrast to them pretty much every point about unarmored humans was susceptible to clawed attack. Nash screamed, and resorted to elbows in the in-fight.

Re: Spies Like Us

"What the frell is that crazy Imp doing?"  Val thought as she watched Nash skillfully use his combat knife then go hand-to-hand with one of the big uglies. “He’s either very brave or very stupid.” She yelled to Kix after firing a bolt in the direction of the lizards, aiming for one on the outer edge of the group to avoid hitting the bearded man.  

“No, he just has a strong dislike for aliens, especially the nasty kind.  Or he could just be trying to impress you.”  Davin called back to her as he fired his own weapon then ducked back around the doorway of the shop next door.  Narrowly missing a flash of laser fire from one of the lizardmen. It splashed against the wall just centimeters away, spraying miniscule chips of duracrete across his officer’s jacket.   After putting down some cover fire the officer got ready to make a run to help out his squadmate and friend.

Across the street the fringer, Vortan was reloading his large blaster pistol with practiced ese and speed.   “I can’t tell if that guy’s still breathing.”  He said loudly to the redhead about Alec.  “They were thumping him pretty bad, bunch of damn cowards.”  He spit out angrily before peering around his own cover to take another few shots, dropping one of the Trandos near the Talella’s rear landing strut.  He fell with a grunt, thick ichor dripping from a gash on his snout where he’d hit the support on the way down.   

Peering past the group of Trandoshans, Val could just barely make out one of her two agents.  Idris, who had circled around to the other side of the ship, was appraising the potential targets calmly from near the mouth of the alley he had just come through.  It was very likely then that Cris was in the narrow alleyway between the two towering residential building on the opposite side of the street from Sionne.  Now the remaining thugs left standing would be completely surrounded.

If the young smuggler were still alive he’d stand a better chance of remaining so, as would the dark-heaired stranger who had tried to help him, if they all made their move on the gang as quickly as possible.

Re: Spies Like Us

Kix winced as the Trandoshan's blasterfire chipped away at the wall again. Bits of powdered durocrete pelted his face as another blaster bolt missed him by centimeters. He angrily wiped the grit from his cheek with the back of his hand before firing with his blaster pistol.

<I>Hang in there, Nash!</i> he urged his friend, forcing the thought of his early demise out of his mind. <I>I'm not going to let you die.</i>

He glanced to his left again and saw Val'kia similarly pinned behind a structure. A sturdy advertising kiosk loomed to one side ahead of him. Kix tipped his head toward the adjacent structure and winked at Val'kia. She nodded back, understanding.

Firing continuously with his weapon, he dived for the rear of the kiosk, as Val gave him cover fire. All around them, luminous blaster rounds slammed into the walls and obstacles of the spaceport of Nar Shaddaa, turning the graffitied walls into an explosion of broken splinters and shards.

Kix slammed a fresh power pack into his blaster and risked a peek around the edge of the kiosk. To his surprise, Nash was holding his own with blade in hand. He raised an attentive eyebrow, impressed by his friend's courage if not by his sense of self-preservation. <I>I've know other Imps</I>, he thought, <I>who were not so brave admist blasterfire.</i>

His eyes widened in alarm as he spotted another Trandoshan thug, apparently overcome with blind rage, charging at his comrade from behind, his beastial nature showing off his reptilian eyes, sharpened incisors, and clawlike fingernails. A white froth foamed at the corners of his mouth as he lunged for Nash with outstretched claws. One of the patrons– Cris from what he remembered– quickly took aim at the charging lizard alien. Kix beat him to the punch and fired a blaster bolt, ripping into its shoulder.

Growling savagely, the Trandoshan veered around and only spotted the one named Cris with blaster in hand. Assuming he was the culprit who shot him, the lizard alien charged at him. A tremor of apprehension shook his bones as he fired into the alien. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Dune Sea as the Trandoshan fell upon him like some ravening prehistoric monster. Jagged claws sliced through his garb as though it were tissue paper, rending the flesh beneath. The doomed human struggled helplessly against the huge, voracious alien, but the lizard was too big, too strong, even when wounded. Powerful jaws closed on Cris's throat, crushing the human's neck between rows of yellowed fangs. A horrendous scream rang out, and warm blood gushed upon the ground.

Kix winced at the sight, but was relieved it was him and not Nash who perished. He then looked to see the other Trandoshan grab Nash with both hands and flinging him to the ground. Against his will, Nash found himself sliding backward across the floor, but he quickly stopped and sprang back onto his feet, blade still in hand. The Trandoshan's fangs snapped together angrily, and his outstretched fingers sported black razor-sharp nails.

This was going to be a long night.

Re: Spies Like Us

Kutac scurried behind a refuse container as one of the Trandoshans fired a blaster at him, pelting the alley where he stood with a rain of blaster bolts. He popped up from behind his cover and loosed a bolt from his pistol which completely missed the alien he was aiming at. Of course, one of the Trandoshans also got a shot off at him, missing, but leaving a carbon streak on one of the nearby structures.

His stomach sank as he noticed one of the scaly lizard-men, charge someone that was shooting at it with a blaster. He took careful aim at the alien as the man struggled in its grasp, and fired a bolt from his pistol that scored a hit on the flank of the alien, after it had ripped out the mans throat with its razor sharp fangs.

He crouched on one knee as the Trandoshan turned toward him, its baleful yellow eyes easily noting his location. Kutac brought his blaster around, his left hand under the grip to steady his aim, his eyes focused on the lizard as he unconsciously lined up the sights of his pistol, in a trained reflex.

The Trandoshan had just started toward him.

He fired. Hit. Center of mass. The Trandoshan slowed at the impact of the shot.

He fired again. Hit. Center of mass. The Trandoshan seemed to slow further as the energy from the Relby impacted in the wound caused by his previous shot.

He adjusted his aim slightly. Fired. Hit. The Trandoshan collapsed as his blaster bolt drilled through its open mouth and into its skull, cooking its brains with the energy of the shot.

All at once, the sounds of the battle began to come back to Kutac and he snapped out of the tunnel vision that had caused him to focus intensely on the one Trandoshan and ducked as blaster bolts splattered the refuse bin. He frowned as one burned completely through and glanced around hoping to see some other convenient cover.

Re: Spies Like Us

Warmth running down his breast, stinging pain with each heaved breath. He snarled, bared his fangs as he advanced at the alien now crawling. His Prey.

Backwards, struggling away from him. Closer. Still exposing its even softer side, slipping in its own blood. Closer. Its ugly round pupils wide in the holes of its ugly round skull. Hairless, at least, but coated with the wretched pliable matter they grew instead of their scales. Krrsk crouched, readied to rip its spongy abdominal wall…

As disgusted his chaps sank. Nostril’s twitched then closed, eyes narrowed to slits.

Insidious!

Sweet blood had covered it, but now it was back; Revolting like with the alien’s hugging assault.

Pernicious!

Its skull needed to be skinned and rubbed off with black sand to get rid of this stench that stung your smell, blurred your very vision. Overpowering, abominable mix. This one must have fed on detergents. Wretched aliens could spoil it all!

And now it was back on its feet, determined to charge him anew with its substitute-claw, neared with its pungent stink. Eek! Frustrated Krrsk pointed his blaster—yet used it’s butt like a nightstick when the crazed prey charged. ‘Bolt for bolt.’ Knocked the knife off bloody hands and swirled his prey around, its stinking back to his chest. ‘Claw for claw.’

He dragged it along towards the nearest wall. Always had nice side-effects, a fresh alien shield. Krrsk yet had to turn his snout away. Revolting! “You stink!” he hissed with fervour, dug his left harder into the thrashing and screaming prey’s side while slashing his right through what should be the ugly thing’s face.

There sounded a sharp hiss. Retreat? What the drrk? A leathery blink. Krrn and Orrg down, Tarr badly wounded. Two, three aliens down, their numbers yet steady increasing, another red bolt came his way. Frrk! He dodged, narrow and roared out his contempt. Wretched pack!

But, anyway—done. He couldn’t else tell one from another with these abject aliens but this should now look distinctively marked. “You’re mine,” he snarled, then pushed it down and ran. ‘Nothing can stink forever.’


When Kix ran over at first Nash didn’t move. “Nash! You’re alright, Nash?” Kix grabbed his friend by the shoulder, soiling his uniform when he knelt in a pool of blood. Three endless seconds before his bald head slowly turned, two gashes from mid-skull down to his left cheek, face smudged with blood to even the gritted teeth that showed in his tortured and hateful grimace. “I gonna kill it.”

He propped himself up on an elbow, glared to where about the Trandoshan had vanished, then, unfocused, back at his friend.

“Next time, I swear, I gonna kill it,” he growled; And passed out.

Re: Spies Like Us

Erc had pulled himself behind some cover and reloaded the Bryar. His other blaster was lost somewhere in the alley. he lost it when one of the Trandos got a lucky shot at him. Just as he left the bar. Damn Barman was in a rush to get ahead of him. The blast had punched throught the light armor of his vest and scored his left flank.

"DAMN this hurts!" Erc thought to himself. but it wasn't the first time he'd been hit, and definately one of the least serious of all the injuries. Barely hearing the click on his comms, Erc smiled Looked intot he black eyes of the nearest enemy, and all anyone herad was,

"FRELL THIS!: and then gave out a battlecry.

The Native of Coruscant, raised a Rich son of a Rich invester did the unthinkible. He stood up from behind his cover, raised the Bryar, and proceeded to open fire on the nearest target. Unfortunately, this Trandosian was also about to fire on Erc's position, so it's weapon was swinging in line with him already.

Foruntately Erc's first shot was dead center in the chest of the alien. His seconid and third shot also inpacted the creature as the return fire tracked off to his right, moving away from him.

But the blasted Creature wouldn't drop. it was undeniably dead, after the fifth shot burned almost completely through it.  Scanning the scene, Erc saw one more creature still standing, and an evil smile coming to his face. Erc was an easy target, but due to the way tings were alined, Erc couldn't easily return accurate fire.

The creature never got the chance to fire. It suddenly stumbled forward, having recieved an inpact between it's shoulder blades.  The blaster carbine dropped in order to arrest his fall, and to Erc's happy surprise, his co-pilot, the Dug Soroba had grabbed onto the trandosian'sshoulders with the stronger upper arms, one of the lower arms was bracing for stability, but the fourth arm was holding a blaster, and as the creature fell, the Dug started firing into it's back. Three shots, and the creature was laying motionless on the street. The dug, not accepting such and easy kill, was now hitting the side of the dead creature's head, cursing in it's native language.

"I think they are all down, I'm clear. Everyone ok?" Erc called out, now visibly holdiong the laser burn to his side.

Sionne,  was the first to reply, "looks like you are right, you ok?"

"Yeah, just took a graze in the first exchance. but I think you're friend Isn't going to make it. Poor Bastard. Someone should check the guy in the middle. He's probably pretty bad off too. where'd your boss get to?"

Re: Spies Like Us

A moment after Vortan voiced his question, Val was heard yelling into her commlink for Alema to get med units to their location NOW!

Bypassing Si, Vortan and the Imperials with just a cursory glance at them and at Jerva who was kneeling next to Alec and talking to the downed smuggler, Val headed straight for Cris while calling his name.  

“No, no, no,” She said it over and over again in a voice heavy with anguish as she fell to her knees next to the obviously dead man’s head.  Cradling it in her lap, she ran her fingers through his blood soaked blonde hair tears falling on the face of the man she had considered one of her closest and most trusted friends.  Val passed one hand over his wide, unseeing blue eyes to close them and bent over as a sob painfully wracked her slender frame.

Slowly Val became aware of the buzz of activity around her as she continued to kneel there near the mouth of the alley.  She could see the med teams had arrived, never even having noticed the sirens of the transports in her vacuum of grief.

Two of the medics were working feverishly on Alec to get the young spacer stabilized for transport to the closest medical treatment facility.  Near the boarding ramp of Harrp’s ship another pair of medics were treating a revived Cadman, shaking their heads and making comments about how lucky he was to still be breathing after going head to head with the dead Trandoshan nearby.  

The last team was treating Davin for a minor laceration to his face and Erc, who was holding up on arm to let the medtech wrap up a nasty burn on his side, as a Dug paced back and forth nearby.   

Two units from the nearby Nar Shaddaa Constabulary station had shown up as well and were taking statements from Jerva, who was answered their questions just a tad belligerently.  He gave the entire story of what had transpired from when he first came upon Alec being attacked by the cowardly pack to one of the pair of officers, while Sionne spoke with the other about what he himself had seen and done.

One of their fellow officers was looking around at the carcasses of the dead Trandoshans and making notations on his datapad   As Val looked up again his partner was making his way toward her and she just looked up at him silently, tears still drying on her cheeks.  “Oh spast!” Inspector Malina Campo said when she recognized the woman kneeling there and the dead man on the ground in front of her.  

“Oh Val!  Val’kia I’m so sorry.  Stand up honey, we’ll take care of him from here.”  Malina, a regular customer of the ’Dive and one of the better members of the constabulary in the Corellian Sector, leaned and took Val’s arm, trying to get the woman to her feet.  But she wouldn’t move and just looked at Campo blankly until Sionne came over and bent down to look her in the eye.  “He’s gone, Si.  He was the one that never wanted to fight and kill and now he’s gone.” Val said in a ragged near whisper.

“Val, there’s nothing you can do for Cris now.”  Sionne Idris replied gently.  “ Let the officers do what they have to for their investigation and we’ll do what we have to do for Cris after they finish.”  Sionne knew Val had seen (and done) a lot of killing over the years.  It was to be expected in their line of work, but anyone can reach a point where it begins to take a heavy toll on their psyche and he was afraid Major Val’kia Navin had reached that point with the death of her friend and subordinate Cris Denson.

Reluctantly, Val nodded once and gently set Cris’ head down on the surface of the street. After getting to her feet with Idris’ help she asked her second in command, “Did we get the bastards?”

“Yes boss, we got all of them.” Sionne replied as he placed an arm across her shoulders, nodded to Inspector Campo and lead Val back in the direction of the cantina so she wouldn’t have to see the marked black vehicle that had just pulled up load their friend’s body and those of the Trandoshan thugs aboard it for transport to the morgue.

Re: Spies Like Us

The open bottle of antiseptic the medic was using filled Kix's nostrils as he kneeled to his prone friend. A fresh pot of caffa was calling his name, and the Imperial officer figured that a prompt infusion of its stimulants was just what the doctor ordered, despite the pain he felt on his forehead.

Nash looked like hell. He was still clad in the same bloodstained shirt and pants he'd been wearing since they arrived on shoreleave, before getting caught in that bloodbath near the docking platforms. Dirt and grit further stained the bedraggled garments, which looked as if they'd been dragged, along with Nash himself, through some godforsaken war zone.

"Aw… Nash, you stupid bastard. Why did you have to play the frelling hero?" Kix's face was pale and slick with perspiration. His eyes were bloodshot, and an ugly red slash besmirched his forehead as he looked at his friend with concern. Nash shivered uncontrollably, his hands shaking like branches in a gale. Numerous small cuts and scratches went untreated on his face, neck, and hands, while livid black shadows hung beneath his half-closed eyes. The Trandoshan really did a number on him.

"Just hang in there. The medic is here. He'll patch you up," he tried to reassure him. He looked up to see some officers pacing erratically as they spoke into their comlinks, tracking back and forth across the area like caged animals.

The medic grabbed some bacta patches from his pouch, then began dabbing the infected lacerations and claw marks with an alcohol swab. Judging from the lurid discoloration around the punture wounds, Kix guessed that alcohol and bacta patches weren't going to be enough. Nash probably was going to need a bacta tank, just like that poor fringer who got beat up.

"Like it or not," Kix rasped as he eyed Nash, "I'm going to call for a shuttle to take you back up to the ISD." He walked a distance away toward the <I>'Dive</I> to get a clear reception of the Star Destroyer in orbit and began to ping it with his comlink.

The comm beeped electronically but no reception was coming through. <I>What the frak now?</I> he seethed. He couldn't have damaged it during the fight, it should be working perfectly. As he walked closer to the cantina, the reception worsened.

"What the frak?!" he blurted. "What's wrong with this thing?" He shook it.

But Kix was too caught up in getting help for Nash to think about what was causing the interference. He rambled morosely as he re-entered the <I>Hyperdive</I> to calm his nerves down and see about getting some reception going to contact his superiors.

Re: Spies Like Us

Kutac stared balefully at the Nar Shadaa constable, barely controlling the sneer that threatened to cross his face. Of course, it didn’t help that he was starting to become angry with the questions.

The constable looked at his datapad and began to paraphrase what Jerva had told him. “So, you started shooting the Trandoshans that were beating that smuggler up?”

“That’s what I said isn’t,” Kutac shot back. “You know, if you people might actually have done your jobs, we probably wouldn’t be having that conversation, oh, and I might actually have been able to find a place to drink, instead of having to deal with you.”

The constable looked at Kutac. “Sir, I didn’t catch your name either.”

Kutac looked back into the constable’s eyes. “So you finally noticed I never told you my name, huh? Did it ever occur to that bureaucratic little mind of yours that I might not have told you my name because I didn’t want your bureaucratic little constabulary and by extension, anyone with sufficient credits to know my name?”

The constable goggled at Kutac and spluttered, “Are you accusing me of being corrupt?”

Kutac sneered. “Ah, the constable as a brain. He wins the prize.”

With that, Kutac spun on his heel and began to walk away, his hand resting on the group of his blaster out of long habit.

Re: Spies Like Us

By the time Si had gotten Val back to the 'Dive and settled her into one of the booths near the cantina's front door, the woman had regained some of her composure.  Enough at least to take notice that Alema had thankfully cleared out most of the  patrons who had been in the place before the fight started and Sionne was now helping her eject the few strays remaining.

Looking out to the street Val saw Davin approaching, his expression a combination of sadness and frustration while speaking into what must have been a commlink, most likely talking to someone back on the orbiting Star Destroyer that he and his injured squadmate served on.  

Idris moved toward the Imperial as if to stop him from entering, but Val called out to the New Republic agent, "Si, let the Commander and anyone else who helped out there come in and put up a couple of rounds on the house.  Everyyone else can stay out until I feel like reopening this place for business."  

"You're the boss"  Idris replied with a shrug as he watched Val get to her feet and head back toward her office.  He moved as if to follow her, but the woman turned around on unsteady feet and told him flatly that she was fine and to stay out there to help Alema keep an eye on things.  "Damn it, Val." Sionne spit out. "You aren't the only one who lost a good friend tonight.  We all cared about Cris."  

Navin didn't reply, only glared at her XO coldly through narrowed eyes before turning her back on him to continue on to her office.

Once she reached the room, Val shut the door behind her, walked across the small room to pick up a crystal decanter filled with a deep amber liquid.  She stared at the bottle as if trying to decide something and taking the stopper from the neck was a good indication of the decision she had made.

Val had tried not to drink much.  She'd had a problem with using alcohol in the past as a means of coping with the things she'd seen and done over the years and it usually lead to making her feel worse, but goddess knows she needed it tonight.  Her unsteady hand made Val nearly miss the tall cut crystal tumbler altogether, but she managed get it under control enough to fill it to near the rim.  She picked it up and downed nearly three quarters of the contents in one draught.  Thinking for some reason of Daiman of all people, and how would have dispproved of drinking such a fine potable in so hasty a manner.  She suppressed a shudder and refilled the glass again then took it over to her desk  and set it down on the surface before falling into the chair behind it.

It was all her fault.  Not the Trandoshan, not the Imperial whose blaster shot  the lizard had mistaken as being fired by Cris and certainly not that poor spacer who had the beef with them in the first place. Val should have been more vigilant in making sure the scaly thugs hadn't come into the 'Dive and started anything in the first place. The humiliation of being forced outside under blasterpoint had only angered the pack and escalated into such a stupid thing, attacking the smuggler and taking on those who came to his aid.

The sensible side of her mind knew that she was no more at fault than the desk she was sitting behind, but the alcohol combined with her grief and the ingrained masochistic need to punish herself beat that sensible thought center into submission.  

Leaning back in the chair Val held the tumbler in one hand sipping from it from time to time, enjoying the comforting fog it was producing.  She had just closed her eyes briefly when a rapping was heard on the office door.  "Come in." Navin called out blearily and the door slid open to reveal Alema standing there, a hesistant look on her pretty face. "Everything okay out there?" Val asked.  

"Things are as okay as they can be expected to be.  Si's walking around snapping at that fringer friend of his, the Imp officer is commiserating with some woman who has got Empire written all over her, and some guy with a beard is complaining about the constabulary while enjoying our stock of Corellia's finest."  The Twi'lek said.  "Just another typical night."  she said and Val glanced at her sharply, a retort concerning the inappropriateness of being so damn flip at such a time on the tip of her tongue.  But one look at the grief shining in the girl's wide amber eyes stopped her.  

"I'm sorry Val." Alema said softly.  "Cris was a wonderful guy. I haven't known him as long as you and Si, but losing him doesn't hurt me any less."

"Thank you Ale', I appreciate that and I want you to know that Cris always thought highly of you as well."  Val replied.

"The reason I came back here, besides making sure you were okay was to give you this." Alema said as she handed her some sheets of computer printout flimsi.  "It's the background check results you wanted me to run on that guy that came in looking for a job this afternoon.  From what I can see he appears to be clean.  Born and raised on Drall, no criminal history. As far as the records show, he checks out."  

Val tossed the printouts on her desk intending to take a better look at them later.  "So he really is from Drall" she muttered, thinking about her earlier comment to Sionne about the scruffy man's accent. "Guess I've been away from my home system too long."   

Alema just gave her a quizzical look.  "Just something I said to Idris earlier today.  Tell him when you go back out there I'm still breathing and I intend to spend some time alone for a little while longer." Val finished dismissively then took another drink from her glass before leaning back in her chair again, closing her eyes as she heard the door close behind the Twi'lek.

Re: Spies Like Us

Vortan was not happy. This was a new shjirt, now completely ruined with blood, a blaster mark, and a whole lot of dirt from the streets out there. What passed for law enforcement had left him alone. obvious that they weren't going to get any cooperation. the Bacta Patch on his Flank tingled right now, and the stink of Bacta was bringing way too many memories.

To top it all off, his "old Buddy" was now reading him the riot act.

"That's enough Si. I didn't tell the guy to go out there. He pushed his way past me. I knew I had back up coming. Soroba here would have been here in plenty of time to help me out. With everyone coming out of the bar, it took options away from me. It's not my fault."

Si sat down, the anger and energy he was feeding off of a minute ago, now seemingly gone. "I know it's not your fault. But I can't get over the feeling it should have been me out there first. I was in the back room. Not at my post. He was covering for me."

"Man, you're talking like this is an assignment, not a job. we both know this place is a cess pool, but it's not like the old days. You aren't a soldier anymore. Do you need help making preparations? I can do the transport for you. Anything you and your boss Needs."

"I'll pass the offer on. Now's the burn?"

"I've had worse, but it's still bothering me. How's the redhead?"

Re: Spies Like Us

“About as well as can be expected after losing one of her best friends.  Cris was a great guy.”. Sionne replied with a sigh as he looked around the cantina where the only non-staff occupant beside Erc and the Imps was the bearded man who was seated at the far end of the bar, talking to Jarrall, the local, part-time bartender who looked like he could have been the man’s brother appearance-wise if not in temperment. .  “She’s hiding out in her office, probably getting stupid-drunk.  But damn I hope I’m wrong.  Alema is back there checking on her right now”

“Why don’t we just go and drag her out of there?” Erc said.  “Last thing anyone in this situation needs is to be alone.”

“You’re welcome to try, old buddy.  But I wouldn’t recommend it.  This is her way of dealing with things.” Idris said with sad smile.  “You’d have an easier time going up against those Trandoshans again. That is the most stubborn woman in the entire galaxy back there my friend, but I couldn’t ask for a better boss.”

“I’m sure she’s great, but I’ve been wondering, why exactly are you working in this place anyway?”  Vortan asked.  “I would never have figured you to ever settle for being the hired muscle in some joint on this rock.”

Before answering, Sionne grabbed the bottle of Corellian whiskey from the table they were seated at and poured himself and Erc a double shot each.  “Well the pay’s decent enough, I can’t complain about the working conditions for the most part, and the view is rather nice.”  This last comment was inspired by Alema’s appearance as she walked back from Val’s office.  Idris gave the Twi’lek a friendly smile, but she didn’t return it.  Only looked at him, her luminous eyes shining with unshed tears as she walked over to the two men.

“Well, just as you thought, Si.” The petite beauty said.  “She’s back there numbing herself with Whyren’s and saying she doesn’t want to be disturbed for a while.  Damn it I wish she’d say something.  Talk, yell, whatever.  I don’t care.”

“This is how she handles things Ale’.  For as long as I’ve known Navin, anytime something upsets her she retreats from everyone until she’s ready to talk.”  The dark-skinned man said gently as he put an arm around Alema’s waist and hugged her to him..

“She’s back there blaming herself unfairly, but that’s how she is and nothing we say or do is going to change that.  Just give her some time like she asked.  She’ll be out here in a little while.  And if she’s not, Erc’s already volunteered to bodily drag her out”  

“Brave man” the female agent said trying to lighten the somber mood they were all enveloped in, “But not too bright, huh?”

Pouring another round for himself and Vortan as well as filling a glass for Alema, Sionne grinned at the Twi’lek’s comment as well as the expression on Erc’s face in response.

“To Cris Denson.  Soldier and poet. Devoted son of Alderaan.” Idris said raising his glass in salute to the dead man.  “Rest well, good Sir.  You’re going to be missed my friend.” He finished, baritone voice cracking  more than a bit toward the end.

They had just downed the contents of the glasses, when Val walked out of her office and into the main lounge a just a trifle unsteadily and headed to their table,   “I’m going to my quarters.  Need to shower and sleep.  Lock it all up for me when you’re done.  Mr. Vortan I thank you for your help tonight.”

“Thank you everyone.”  Val’kia announced to the few other occupants of the room.  “Commander Davin, I hope your friend will recover, even though mine never will.” She said balefully to Kix as he whispered something to Jordan then glared back.  “Sir” she addressed Jerva the slurring becoming apparent in her voice as the liquour she’d consumed finally really kicked in.  “I commend you on your fine shooting skills and thank you for your assistance. Stop in anytime you’re on Nar Shaddaa.  I’m going to go now and wash Cris’ blood off.” She said looking down at her ruined top.

Sionne started to rise from the table, but Val shot him a look and said, “ Sit! I’m fine.”  Before walking back in the direction of the lift that would take her upstairs to her quarters without a look back.