Star Wars: The Sith War - Fiction: Master and Slave [Mature]

[z-Hana Rexius]

[OOC Note: This is a collaborative fiction between Brad Olen's player, and me, among others. Because Morgan is my NPC, Hyoseph has asked me to handle her in this fiction. May God be with him.]

Morgan Tilly looked soft and feminine, but she'd been a slave before becoming a slave owner, and she'd learned to defend herself. So when the young slave dropped the tray of cosmetics in her hurry to return them, the answering backhand was hard enough to rock her head back. Blood welled up from her lip as the girl cowered. The blood dripped to the floor, and Morgan recoiled from the bleeding slave. "Get that mess cleaned up!" she hissed at the woman, who was holding her split lip. "I don't have time for your clusminess!"

Morgan huffed angrily as two slaves hurried to clean the floor and help their comrade. "Good help is hard to buy," the slaver muttered to herself, watching the slaves and seeing which ones she was going to let go soon. She only kept the best for herself, of what she was allowed to keep. Siddo took his cut, but Morgan had long practice of hiding quality right under his nose.

A young boy ran into the room. "He's here!"

"Calm down, it makes you look silly," Morgan said, straightening her multi-layed robes. "Go and get him."

Brad was met at the door by the same young man and shown into a sitting room. The kid couldn't have been more than twelve, but he wore the infamous Tilly mark on his shirt. Clearly a slave, and clearly a personal one. As the boy cleared the doorway, he stepped aside, out of the way, letting Brad see the magnificant room. Morgan was clearly doing well for herself. He could see her sprawled on a lounge, waiting for him without an apparent care in the world.

Brad made his way over to her, carrying a rather extravagant bouquet of flowers. They were elegantly trimmed yet bore wicked looking thorns, though not so much that holding them would be a threat. It was an unspoken communication. He didn't have to be loud and belligerent all the time, he was just good at it. He placed the flowers in front of her, their blossoms pointed in her direction. "Good to see you, Morgan."

"And you, Brad," she said, smiling and snapping her fingers. A slave retrieved them, holding them for her, hiding a wince when the thorns caught her skin. Morgan smelled the flowers, but her eyes weren't on the blossoms; they were following Brad as he stalked across the room and, lifting her legs and putting them over his own, sat on the divan next to her. "Lovely," she purred.

"Miss me?" he asked her, smiling.

She returned his smile and crossed her legs, brushing them over his lap. "A little," she said, as if admitting it. Tilting her head so her dark hair fell just so, she asked, "How is little Hana? Broken in yet?"

"She's a work in progress, to say the least. She decided during one of her little fits to break a ceramic over my head. Apparently she thought that would put me down." Brad ran his hand over the loveliness that was her leg, not pressing at all, more simply absorbing the feel of her skin. "So now she's in the tender care of someone who has... considerably less finesse than I do. And if I turn a tidy profit in the meantime, I will not complain."

Morgan laughed. "Oh, you new owners. You're always so soft at first. Tell me... did she do too much damage to your skull?"

"Just a scratch. Fortunately and unfortunately the ceramic was real. She will pay for it, one way or another. Still, I have to admit that I've caught a bit of a bug for the trade. One prospect in particular. She wouldn't stop yammering on about some associate of hers, a Rutian Twi'lek that she seems to think got away and will be sending help 'and that I'm going to get it'." He smiled. "That gave me an idea. I have too much faith in you and your employers to think that they would let one of them just slip away. It would be darkly amusing in my mind to put them next to each other, both in equally hopeless straits. I would indeed 'get it', but not in the means she was thinking."

Morgan shook her head. "You think so? Later, later... I never do business on an empty stomach, and this certainly sounds like business." She eased herself upright and slipped her fingers into his hair, exploring his skull. He realized she was looking for the injury as her fingers brushed it.

"Of course, pleasure before business, as it should be." He leaned forward a bit, reaching under her arms and putting his hands lightly on her back as he gave her a better view of the back of his head.

Morgan parted his hair. "Tsk, tsk," she said softly, looking at the wound. "Never give a slave you don't trust your back. They'll always try to stick something in it. Or break something over it. You get the idea." She sat back. "I could give you a demonstration on how to break her, if you wish." She leaned back and added, "I rather looked forward to breaking her, but you snatched her up so quickly."

Brad tried to pout and failed miserably, a crooked smile coming through that. "Sorry to ruin your fun. And your offer, I think I have it covered. Thank you though."

"Alright. You know where I am if you decide to let me have a crack at her." Behind her, the boy shivered, just a little. "Now... dinner." She gestured, and a table was rolled out for them. Two slaves attended, looking sharp as they removed lids and lifted a plate, waiting for orders.

Brad took his time in selecting his food, barely acknowledging their existence as he put a good meal together. "I have to say, you never cease to amaze with the delicacies. I would ask where you get them but I would not want to threaten any trade secrets."

"And with you talking about doing more slaving... it's only a matter of time before you sell one off, and then another," Morgan said, "and then we'll be rivals." She paused in cracking open her shellfish to give him a coy smile that hinted she would find that as much fun as what they would do later tonight. "So, no... you'll have to find your own."

"Oh well, so much the better. How am I to be a competent rival if I cannot even find my own shellfish?" He took a small bite of his own food, though he was more focused on the woman with him.

"Oh, I don't want competant rivals," Morgan laughed, setting aside her plate. "I'd much rather play with them like a cat plays with a mouse."

"Oh I do not believe I would ever be able to match your... impressive talents in this field. Though I can't say I would mind playing with you every once in a while." He smiled roguishly, the same smile that had both gotten him into binds and gotten him out of so many more. "Or being played with. Your call."

Morgan grinned at his comment and took the plate from him. Without looking, she handed it to a slave, who deftly caught it and set it on the table. Quietly, they started to remove the table. Dinner, apparently, was over. Still smiling, she straddled his legs, drawing her hands down his torso. "My call? How considerate of you."

"Well you know me..." Brad loosely wrapped his arms around her, firmly gripping her ass and pulling her up against him. "Always the gentleman."

"I see you were just waiting for dinner to be done," Morgan said, pressing her pelvis against his. She leaned forward, giving him a slow, steady kiss. She was testing him; seeing how much he gave, and how much he took.

His response was measured to hers. It was the upside of years of experience with experts. Not low end street whores, please. He was talking high class devotees of the carnal arts. As she kissed him, he opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue around the seal formed by their lips. It would not be difficult to tell that he was holding back, but that he was more savoring the moment than afraid of the next one.

Morgan quickly matched him, while leaning into him and pinning him to the couch with her body. Clearly, she was used to be the leader in matters of pleasure. After a moment, she lifted her head, but kept the pressure on his body. "What did you come here for?" she asked, her face flushed with desire. "Something soft and sweet? Something hard and bitter?" She leaned down to whisper in his ear. "We can do it all."

He was willing to let her have her way for a while. Besides, there were worse fates than being pinned beneath a beautiful woman. He ran his hands through her hair and down her back, caressing each curve. Nibbling just a bit on her ear, he whispered back. "I like the third option."

Morgan laughed and pulled at the closures on his jacket, pulling it open. His blasters thumped against the cushions as the sides flapped open. Morgan didn't remark as she grabbed a double handful of his shirt and yanked it upward.

Brad was very accomodating as she pulled his shirt off. His body wasn't made of solid muscle or anything like that, but it was something to look at and appreciate, that was for certain. As soon as he could see again from his shirt going over his head, he moved forward, kissing her neck just above the collar bone and slowly unwrapping her from her robes. He gave delicate attentions to every inch of skin as it became visible.

Morgan's layered robes came off slowly, showing more skin as he stripped her bare. "No fair," she murmured as her hands went to his pants but could make little headway because of their position on the couch and each other.

Brad smiled at that. "Fair, what is this word, fair?" He kissed her deeply on the lips, his tongue entwining itself with hers as he came forward, pressing against her until her back was towards the lounge. None of this was helping her quest to access his pants in the

slightest. Then again, anything worth having is worth working for.

Morgan snaked her hands between them with marvelous dexterity, not at all distracted by her simutanious quest to sample every part of his mouth with her lips and tongue. The ease with which she assessed and opened the closures on his pants reminded him of the rumors that she'd once been a slave used for sexual pleasure herself. And there was no doubt that the fingers that wrapped around him were experienced.

He paused for just a moment as she gained access to him. Wearing a small grin as he expanded to fill her hands and then some. "Ah." He pulled her to him, pressing his pelvis against hers in such a way that his pleasure could be felt being pressed against her though he didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to enter her. He had time, why rush? He took her breast in his hand and started lightly thumbing at her nipple, taking no small amount of pleasure in the little gasps that would escape her as his own experience became more than evident.

Morgan began her slow, steady stroking, drawing tight noises out of him. Smiling with a lazy arrogance, slipped her other hand up his back, a light, shiver-inducing touch up his spine. Her hands slipped into his hair and drew his head back down for another kiss. Her hand and mouth worked in easy unison, increasing his pleasure - right until she pressed her finger into the cut on the back of his head. It should have hurt more, but with his endorphins already up, it caused a strange surge of pleasure. "I guess I owe your little slave a thank you," she murmured softly.

Brad's entire body tensed up and relaxed at once as the pain and pleasure coursed from the wound on his head. He tried to mumble something back, but with that last little bit, his logical mind had checked out for a few seconds and all that could be heard was a low, throaty rumble. Running his free hand up through her hair, he suddenly surged forward and without warning she was on her back, his hand holding her head. She was still being pressed against, though the movement had sent waves of pleasure through her body. He lowered her head down gently, his eyes screaming with lust. He then proceeded to move his mouth down to her other breast, his tongue expertly darting across her nipple, complementing his hand, which had begun gently massaging in tempo with her own strokes.

In turn, Morgan mumbled something which sounded like a soft purr of sound to Brad. She slid her hand back down his back, making sure she found and manipulated various pressure points on the way. She took her time, enjoying the rush of their skin moving together. When she reached the peak of the crack of his backside, she shifted to the side and gripped his ass. Her nails bit into his skin, just a bit, as she pulled him harder against her. It trapped her hand for a moment, and she eased off, only to do it again. Her hands worked together expertly.

Brad didn't take long at all to aid Morgan in her manipulations. Each time she would pull him against her, he would push forward with his legs, grinding against her with intensity and sending ecstatic blasts through both of their bodies with each movement. His hands would explore her body, his fingers applying pressure to every curve and joint that they came across, almost compelling her muscles to relax in direct contrast to the tension that was coming from down below. After several ecstatic seconds of doing this, he would continue forward, pinning her hand and kissing her neck passionately, the tiniest brushes of teeth sending shivers down her spine.

"We should move to a bed," Morgan moaned. "Somewhere to spread out, to really cut loose together. And we can bring in some assistants, if we need them." She moved her hand to press against his chest, pushing him back a little.

He rolled back with her push, bringing them both into a sitting position much like the one they had begun this dance in, with Morgan sitting straddling him, only with decidedly less clothing involved. "Where would you suggest? I have an idea, but it would require us to get dressed, temporarily." He looked at her almost appraisingly. "Which I suppose we can, if we must."

"Dressed?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow, slipping her body into a comfortable position. She rocked her body against him a little, her desire apparent as she brushed over him. "Whatever did you have in mind, Mr. Olen?"

He whispered his idea into her ear, making every single explicit detail sound as if it were the most perfect and artistic idea in history. None of it the sort that would leave a very good impression on the "help". "Of course we can always get to that later...." As she rocked, he slid a hand down her stomach and between her legs. "If you crave satisfaction anywhere near the level your body says you do."

He could see the interest in her eyes; she probably didn't get offers like this often, and she certainly couldn't indulge such pleasures with her slaves. Whether she had enough of a taste for it to wish to indulge was another question. After a moment, she nodded.

[z-Hana Rexius]

Morgan fell to the bed laughing. Her clothes had been discarded as quickly as they had been put on minutes before. Brad stood over her, smiling and just as naked. He fell forward into a deep, passionate kiss, one hand snaking down her stomach and between her legs, his other holding her hair, pressing her into his kiss.

Morgan met his kiss eagerly while pressing her body into his hand. Her hands began to roam his body, learning him and his points of pleasure: her fingers trailing over his ears, down his neck and back. She squeezed his ass for a moment before running her nails up his sides, scoring him lightly with red marks.

Brad's nimble fingers sent her to heaven, working their magic in the way that only the most talented of lovers and thieves could. Funny how those things coincided. As he pleasured her, he shifted his body upward, straddling her leg while his hand worked, and grabbed one of the pillows on the bed with his free hand. One of the many benefits of how Brad lived was the absolute decadence of the rooms. He had the case itself off in less than a second. He paused for a moment in his ministrations as he raised his head up and looked down at her, smiling mischievously. Moments later he was slipping the case over her eyes, denying her her sight while simultaneously pushing two fingers into her, sending ecstatic waves through at least one of her other senses.

Morgan cried out without shame, her crimson lips parting as she gave voice to her pleasure. She made no effort to remove the blindfold; she had agreed to this and had known that this was part of the game. Her hands groped blindly for him; when only one hand was able to find him, she simply moved the other hand to her body, rubbing her breasts. The hand that did find him trailed up his thigh and wrapped around him, beginning to stroke.

As her hand took hold of him, he pressed his pelvis to hers, his own hand moving up her body, tracing circles around her stomach and breasts on its way up. It passed up the side of her face and through her hair as he lay on her, letting her know all to well where he was with his grinding and his light kisses up her neck. His hands, on the other hand, were a different matter entirely. As he reached a very short distance under the bed, the rest of his body never missing a beat, his fingers found a bag. He came forward as he pulled the bag out, positioning himself so that he was just below her breasts as he opened the bag itself. He was all too familiar with the game they were about to play and a simple pillowcase just wasn't going to cut it.

Morgan heard soft sounds, and she seemd to guess that something was up, but again: the game. So she just increased the motions of her hand, trying to subtly counter whatever he was doing to her. Her head turned to the side, and she kissed the inside of his wrist. After a moment, that kiss turned into a nibble, and then into a full-fledged bite.

Experienced as he may be, Brad was still human and her increased tempo did quite a bit to disrupt his other activities. His legs shivered as pleasure coursed through him, but nothing could have prepared him for the bite that was to come. His exclamation was of both shock and pleasure and he fell on her, barely turning so that his chest did not fall fully on the side of her head, rather deflected to the side a bit. Having the bag opened, he released it and pulled back just a bit, kissing her collar, up her neck, and eventually drawing her mouth away from being sunk into his arm. As soon as it was free, he reached down to her arms, grabbing one in each hand and pulling them up over her head, moving back up as he pressed himself between her breasts and began to rock. As soon as he could, he took both wrists in hand, freeing his other hand to draw out a length of soft, silken rope and set to binding them together.

Morgan put up a token struggle, but with him over her, pinning her chest, even that token was minimal. The first touch of the rope brought a gasp and a bit more struggle, but it wasn't that much of an attempt. She could feel him sliding over her and she began to try to catch his head in her mouth, craning her neck to reach.

Fortunately for him, he had finished binding her wrists by the times her lips found purchase. He fell forward shortly before catching himself. He brought her hands over his head and around his waist, bringing her forward as he slowly backed up, allowing her to sit up as she worked, considerably more comfortable now and able to focus her attentions fully on him. Resisting the temptation to grab her head and push her deeper down onto him, he instead massaged her shoulders, each sensual motion in rhythm with her own.

He could feel her testing the ropes as she expertly sucked on him. After a moment, she relaxed against the ropes, apparently satisfied. Her lips cleaved to his skin and her tongue added its own manipulations, even as her hands curled back and clawed gently at him. He flet the slightest scrape of teeth as she judged whether he liked that kind of pain.

Brad hissed and spasmed with pleasure, almost losing control. With great effort, he grudgingly wound his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back. "Close, beautiful Morgan, close. But not yet," he murmured, shifting his grip for more control on her head. Carefully, he untangled their bodies, pulling her tied hands back over his shoulders and head. Holding her closely enough that she could feel the heat from his body, he moved her bound hands, placing them where her mouth had just been. "You have to earn it."

Her fingers slid over his wettened, smooth skin, picking up the work started with her mouth. Brad had stepped back, but remained close enough that she didn't lose her grip on him. But when she leaned forward, her lips moving to aid his hands, his hands caught her by her long hair and wrenched her head back. That drew an involuntary cry out of her from surprise at the sudden manuveur, as well as the brief pain. But it made the rules of the moment very clear.

He held her head back and leaned forward, kissing her passionately while holding her head back. His tongue dancing with hers to the rhythm that her hands were setting. He withdrew his kiss and whispered softly, yet firmly. “Ah ah, lovely Morgan. You will have another taste soon enough, but for now, I want to see what the rest of your body can do.” As he straightened back up, he released his grip on her hair, running his fingers across her face ever so lightly, pausing on her lips for a moment before pulling his hand back completely.

Morgan waited, blind and bound, her fingers working faster and faster. She felt him pause, felt his body sway, and with a groan, he wrapped his hand around hers and pressed down. A moment later, she felt a hot splatter of fluid hit her chest. Brad relaxed against her for a moment; just as she was starting to feel cold from the room-chilled emissions, he moved and brushed something over her, cleaning her body. Quietly, she waited for the next step in this game.

Brad tossed the cloth aside. He did not send it far, as there was no doubt in his mind he would likely need it again. Still reeling from her divine hands, his movements around the room could no doubt he heard as he withdrew the materials for the next step. It was amazing what you could do with a length of rope when supplied with the proper mounts. Such as those normally meant for expensive overhead fixtures.(Though Brad believed that the owners of this place knew full well what they were actually used for. As he continued, the only sounds in the room being that of rope slipping almost noiselessly through mounts and their own heavy breathing. Just as the warmth was about to wear off, he completed his work and touched her thigh.

Morgan jumped a little at his touch, but she didn't flinch away. Instead, she reached for him with bound hands, trying to find something fun to play with. She found his hair, just as he found her with his lips. Gasping with surprise, she allowed him to push her back on the bed and start to caress, kiss and bite her to new heights of pleasure. But as she reached that sweet plateau, he withdrew and left her wanting. "No," she whispered, but she didn't try to stop him.

The look of sheer unbridled desire on this woman's face was all the reason he needed to continue what he was doing. He had seen the look on several faces in his long and spotted history, but never before had he seen such submission and desire coming from a woman whose livelihood revolved around breaking others' wills. It was more of a turn-on than he could have dreamed. He pressed against her, bringing himself up between her legs, brushing her most sensitive areas with his, and yet not entering her.

He for a moment and absorbed the sweet sensation of her hands in his hair and her body almost completely joined with his. He traced light designs on her perfect flesh. "You can have more..." He whispered, "All you must do is ask... nicely."

"Ask?" she murmured, rocking her pelvis against him a touch, a move he quickly countered after a brush of sensitized flesh. "Or are you looking for something more... debasing?"

"Start talking," he murmured, his lips trailing over her hard nipples, "and you'll know when you've earned it."

"Please?" she tried, bidding low.

He chuckled, "Nice try," and she felt him move away from her a touch.

"Please, Brad, please... I want more..." she begged softly.

"Brad?"

She paused and murmured, "Sir, please... I want more." She wasn't ready to go that last step, not yet. He hadn't earned it.

While they were having their exchange, Brad's hands had been behind him manipulating the ropes that made up the contraption he had fashioned earlier. He had in hand what amounted to being a pair of loops which would tighten if put under strain. They were large enough to fit around his hands, if his fingers were outstretched. More importantly, they would fit around hers. He pulled his head free from her hands, her release a foregone conclusion as she would not want to jeopardize that which she had earned. With the opportunity available, he slipped the two loops over her hands so that they fell below the already present bindings, and tightened them. "And you shall have it, but not as you are." He reached and grabbed the other end of the rope device, a crude, yet effective device designed for one purpose. Lifting a human being off the ground. High ceilings were good for something.

As her arms pulled her upward, he entered deep into her, his legs and one arm liting her from the bed while his other hand took in the slack. As he whipped the rope around a post, quickly securing it in place, he took in what all he had accomplished. Here he had Morgan Tilly, ruthless slaver and flirt incurable, suspended in air, with himself buried inside her to the hip, her legs wrapped around his body. Taking her waist, using both his own strength and the rope to keep her steady, he began thrusting, slowly and rhythmically.

Morgan gasped as her arms were levered up, then again as Brad bodily picked her up and entered her in the same motion. Leaning her head forward, she caught his lips and kissed him deeply, filling blindly for her kiss. Brad grinned before ravishing her mouth, much in the same way he was ravishing her body. After a moment, he caught himself, slowing down, both to preserve his endurance and to prolong their pleasure.

For long moments there was nothing but the bliss of their bodies: his teeth and lips skimming a peaked nipple, her lips finding his face or ears when she could and most importantly, that rhymthic motion and slide in and out of Morgan.

Without warning, Brad stepped back; Morgan groaned as her arms took the full weight of her body. Brad reached out and pushed on a hip, sending her spinning. Morgan half-shrieked, half-giggled as she whirled, spreading her legs a little to stablize her spin. "Whhhooaaa," she moaned as she stopped and spun back the other way.

Her spin was arrested sharply, and Morgan's head was spinning so much it took her a second to realize that he was now behind her. A second later, he was inside her again, and this time, his hands could not only support, but titillate. Morgan groaned as he both took pressure off her arms and ran a hand over her breasts before delving between her legs, adding to the sensation.

The door snapped open and Hana stopped in mid-step. Behind her, an astromech droid bumped into her legs and then made an almost inaudible "Whoooooo." Hana gaped, blushed, went pale and stared, all in roughly one motion. Brad glanced at her and gave her a casual nod, without pausing in his actions. After a moment, Hana fumbled for and triggered the door shut. Chuckling at his "slave's" shock, Brad continued what he was doing. "Maybe next time," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, just a thought for later," he promised as he gave a particularly firm thrust to distract Morgan. Privately, he wondered what Hana was thinking at this moment.

Brad continued at a steady rhythm for a time after Hana had gone, letting the sensation of being inside her take him over. At one point, however, he began to slow his pace, his motions becoming more deliberate, more defined. He drew her against him, one hand pressing against her back, gently yet firmly forcing her back to bend backwards as her hands and arms were pulled one way and her body was drawn another. He held her there for a moment, listening to the soft whimper of someone who was in so much bliss the pain in her shoulders would seem almost nonexistant.

He removed his hand from her back leaned forward, putting his chest flush against her back while he whispered into her ear. "Don't move." His free hand loosened the rope he had whipped around the post and gave just enough slack so that she could stand on her own, even if she was on her toes, before tightening it again. Straightening up, he withdrew, slapping her on the backside as he did so leaving a vaguely hand-shaped redness on her perfect, clear skin. He stepped away for a moment and simply watched her. His lover, his slave, at least for the moment.

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana leaned against the wall, shaking. How could Brad do that with that wretched woman? He didn't love her.

Not everyone loves people when they sleep with them. Hana had known this; her half-brothers were some of those people. There were even rumors that her oldest full-brother was engaging on relations with some of the staff. But what she had just seen went far beyond Hana's understanding of the matter.

She slumped against Arfour, draping herself over his dome. The astromech accepted this embrace with an electronic grumble. "I don't know what to do," she mumbled.

Arfour beeped at her and Hana nodded. "Right. I should do something useful," she said, as Sparrow appeared at the end of the hall, the last of Hana's things in her hands. "Hi, we... can't go in." She pointed at the door. "He's..." Her face slowly gathered color as Hana considered how to finish her statement. "Busy."

[Sparrow]

Sparrow came up to Hana and gently ran a hand through her hair in a compassionate gesture. She put the rest of Hana's stuff down. Kestral would be here soon, but Sparrow sensed much confusion around the young woman.

"Busy?"

'I can't help if I don't know what the problem is,' she thought, but how ... '

"I'll deal with this," Sparrow told Hana gently. She moved passed the young girl and the droid and to the door. She steadied her mind, took a deep breath, and opened the door. She stepped in quickly, shut the door behind her and only then took in the room.

Brad was circling behind her, with her suspended from the ceiling and the her was ... Ms. Tilly. It was a lot to take in and to his credit, Brad barely blinked when he saw her. He noted her lack of lightsaber with some amusement.

It was a lot to take in, but what Sparrow was surprised to feel was a lack of Passion. She wasn't angry, or betrayed, or even ... let down. At that moment she understood that Brad was Brad, not some hero out of a children's storybook, but a living, breathing, 'has-his-own-desires' person. It was cleansing - refreshing to not feel like she was sitting in judgement of another living being.

He was ... and she was ... and Sparrow would be alright too. It was enough and that made Sparrow feel good about herself.

The couple wasn't intimate, they were on display. Sparrow wasn't even embarassed and that made her happier. Brad had been circling Morgan when she came in. Tilly was blindfolded with a pillowcase and didn't yet notice another stranger in the room. Sparrow walked up to Brad who only pretended to registered her nearness at the closest moment. He was expecting her to say something suitably - moral.

What he wasn't expecting was a full on, tongue twisting kiss from the Jedi. He never broke his rythmn though. He recovered quickly. His hands were like Vandath vipers, quick and accurate. Brad drew her close, lengthened the kiss and took in the feel of her clothing against his nakedness. One had pressed on her back while the other cupped her ass and drew her pelvis against his own. The invitation was clearly there so much so that not even a naive Jedi could miss it.

Maybe it was the reality check of having a Jedi kiss him that put him just a half step off his game. Whatever the cause, she escaped his pleasurable grip and moved onto the bed. Brad hesitated to follow out of a perverse desire to see Act 2 of the show. Sparrow took Morgan's head and brought her lips to Sparrow's own.

"Who?" she asked breathlessly. She knew with a hint of fear that the touch was not that of her lovers. Then she too was being kissed.

For Sparrow, it was a being released from the hold of anger. It was freedom of spirit. For Morgan, it was an energetic, if inexperienced lip-lock. When the kiss broke, Sparrow pulled away. Brad was moving to get between her and the door. Clearly he saw this as an opening. She gave a gentle smile to Brad, but held up a warning hand. Sparrow kissed him chastely once more on the lips and slipped past him. Keeping her eyes on him, she backed out the door. Instead of following her, Brad reached into a velveteen Duffel bag. Sparrow saw no more as the door closed and she was gone once more.

Down the hall, Sparrow came to Hana and knelt before her. She reached out and took one of Hana's hands and began stroking it.

"Hana, Passions blind us to reality. Brad is not our Hero. It is WRONG for us to try and force him into that role. Instead, learn what he is like, respect that, and learn from him what you need. Don't hold his being who he is against him. We must find the strength in ourselves to do what needs doing. The Force is with us. It is with us all, and accepts us as what we are."

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel entered the apartment, humming a little tune she'd heard coming out of a cantina as she gone past, back and forth, helping move Hana's things in. She'd been in a good mood since finding their charge. To her way of thinking, the hard part was over now. Now she just had to keep Hana alive while she did what she felt she had to do. Much more her style than talking to an endless procession of shady sorts, buying them drinks and watching Sparrow chat them up.

Intellectually, Kestrel understood that these conversations were Sparrow's equivalent of combat. It was how she accomplished her duty, and it was how she communicated best. She got that. But she wouldn't ever really be able to empathize with it. Kestrel communicated with her body; with her actions. Anything else seemed...well, not trite, not now...but like fog. Shifting and unreliable. Words vanished after being spoken. Actions and their consequences were forever.

"We should think about food," she said as she followed the sense of Sparrow's presence into the room where they were. "I'm getting hun..."

Kestrel paused at the scene before her. Hana there against the wall not far from a bedroom door looking distraught, and Sparrow kneeling before her and holding her hand in a pose that those in a far away galaxy, a long time in the future, might associate with a proposal of marriage.

"...gry," she finished, only the pause bisecting the word to indicate her momentary surprise.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Fame: ?, Padawan Jedi Guardian, CHA: 14, Sternly Pretty, Impassive, Aura: Shimmering Cyan, Race: Echani, Notes: N/A

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana didn't really even register how it appeared to Kestrel. Swallowing hard, she pushed away from the wall, her head down. "Brad is getting our information," she said softly, moving to take her things from Kestrel. After a moment, she dumped them in the corner, for a lack of anywhere else to put them. A small bag caught her eye, and Hana picked it up, feeling the circle of metal within. Without opening it, she stuffed it in her pocket.

"Let's forget about him," she said, just as softly. A cry came from the other room, and Hana flinched. "Let's go get some food. I have a piloting job for tomorrow, hauling grain around. So let's celebrate, ok?"

[Sparrow]

"Capital idea!" Sparrow exclaimed. She hooked Hana's arm in one arm and Kestral's arm in the other.

"Flying's good. Flying is what's paying the bills. Let's do more flying."

Once the lift had deposited them on the lobby floor and the awkward silence had lifted, Sparrow pulled them out into the world once more. She bent her will (but not the Force) to lift up Hana's spirits. It worried Sparrow that Hana was having some unrealistic expectations of the Universe and how it worked. One Scoundrel named Brad was only symptomatic. If Kestral and her were to let Hana go out into the world safely, Hana had some growing up to do.

For not the first time, Sparrow was grateful for the forced seperation she had gone through at the Academy. That taught young padawan the importance of self-reliance as well as how to deal with the comforting lies parents often told their offspring.

Hana was having to learn this and at a much older age. Those fantasies had a longer time to take hold in her life, making things harder now that lives were on the line. Hana had to grow up and her friends - and Sparrow was beginning to see herself and Kestral as Hana's friends - need to help her toughen up, just a little.

The three Companions steered themselves into a familiar eatery, for some sustainance and something to drink.

[SalmonMax]

A little taken aback by Sparrow new chumminess, and Hana's apparent moodiness, Kestrel lets herself get washed away along with them to the streetside shop. They served passable, even decent fare there for pretty good prices, and the clientele wasn't too rough...most of their sort gravitating to louder, scummier places.

Once the three were seated, Kestrel asked, "You're both acting a bit strange. What happened?"

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana shrugged, then pulled out her comm and left a quick message for Brad, telling him where they were. It was a little stupid; she didn't know if they'd even be here when it was done. "It's... just Brad, I guess he's being Brad," Hana said, her eyes glued to the table. She glanced at Sparrow, "I mean... I don't even know if he... does that regularly."

[Sparrow]

Sparrow looks to Kestral.

"Brad is being intimate with ... Morgan Tilly. I think the situation was a bit much for Hana to walk in on."

Back to Hana,

"Brad isn't the kind of man who waits for someone he loves. He is a man of his passions. Do you understand?"

"We can't be holding him to our own standards. That path leads to unnecessary dissappointment, heartbreak, and anger. And that leads to Darkness and loss of our True Selves."

"Hana, Brad hasn't been decieving anyone here. We have been decieving ourselves. I admit I found him a facinating, different individual. I've let go of those feelings though, because they were never real. You need to do the same and rebuild your relationship with the man he truly is. Be true to yourself."

"Is he the kind of man you want as a friend, or as more than a friend? Be honest."

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel just nods. The information was no shock to her...she'd assumed that's what he meant when he said he had a date with her. The surprise wasn't what he was doing, it was Hana's reaction.

"Are you jealous?" she asks Hana with all the tact of a blunt object.

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana listened to Sparrow, her previous words mixing with the current. Maybe it was unfair to ask Brad to be the way she thought he should be, but then it was unfair of them to not understand that she was not, and would never be, ok with this side of him. He seemed to have good moments, but they were just moments. Still, Hana resolved to find a middle ground.

Right until Sparrow asked, "Is he the kind of man you want as a friend, or as more than a friend? Be honest."

Hana took a second to process through 'more than a friend.' When she did, she gazed at Sparrow with horror and revulsion. And then Kestrel asked, "Are you jealous?" and Hana joined her in the stare.

"Am I the only sane person at this table?" she asked, pushing her chair back a little. "I don't want to be more than friends or even friends with someone who likes to string women up to his ceiling!" That was a bit loud, but the table next to them didn't even blink. "That's not normal! It's sick! And he doesn't love her, if he can do that to her! And if he doesn't love her, he shouldn't be having relations with her." Hana broke into frustrated tears. Her head dropped onto her folded arms and she moaned, "I just don't understand!"

[SalmonMax]

String her to the ceiling?

Kestrel had trouble wrapping her head around that. In her imagination she pictured Tilley somehow...affixed to the ceiling with ropes. It was possible, she supposed, but it didn't seem like you could really...well...do anything with her that way.

Oh well. Brad's affairs were none of hers, and she was content to leave it at that.

Hana was another matter.

"He rescued you, Hana," she says quietly. "It's natural you might have some feelings for him. There's no shame in that."

[Sparrow]

Sparrow reached out and put a hand on Hana's shoulder.

"Hana, some people can't help but give into their passions. Maybe its some emptiness in their lives they are trying to fill. You are right. There is no love there that I could see, but I don't think we should judge that as ... sick. Arrogance and anger do not do you justice. You are a beautiful person, Hana. Don't let others change you."

"Now, like you, I certainly felt a dividing line between what you or I would find pleasurable and what they were doing. You will have this happen as we continue on in life. Don't be judgemental. Know your own limitations and take comfort in that you know yourself."

Feeling that she's not doing enough,

"You say You don't understand? What is it you don't understand? Give words to your confusion so that you may overcome it."

[z-Hana Rexius]

"I don't have feelings for him, not like that!" Hana snapped, lifting her head. "I am grateful that he rescued me. But I don't love him." Hana said the word as if it had greater weight for her than the normal connotations. "So I'm not jealous... but her?! How can he touch someone like that? She hurt someone else, to make me talk... and he doesn't do unwilling women, so she agreed to that, and she did it because she likes it, and he's making her feel good! Her!"

Hana swiped at her eyes. "That's what's not right!"

[SalmonMax]

Ahh, now it made sense. Sort of. The logic made sense, but not the reaction.

Kestrel nods. "It's not right," she agrees. "But even if he treated you well, he was still at a slave auction...and since I doubt he was trying to track you down like Sparrow and I, we can assume he was probably there to buy a slave."

"Given all that, the surprise to me isn't that he's playing sex games with a slaver...it's that he agreed to help us at all."

[Sparrow]

"Ummm ..." Sparrow mulled the latest bit of information over while Kestral spoke.

"I believe he has taken the best tact to get us the information we need to rescue your friend. Keep that in mind when judging his actions. You get more favors with Nector than with hot Pitch, after all."

"Hana, when we were tracking you down, I had to deal with some rather unsavory types. I was nice to them. I made them feel good about themselves ... as much as I was comfortable with. I can either be nice, or be cruel, but I don't want to ever see cruel as an option. Nice is better."

"Brad and Morgan are ... looking at the whole cruel thing in a different light. I don't know why and I don't need to know. They were being the way they were and I've let that go."

"Also, keep in your mind that this brings you closer to Donata," Sparrow says in a melodic voice. "Let go of the cruelty Ms. Tilly has shown you. Concentrate on your friendship and the loyalty you have for Donata instead. Keep the positive closest to your heart."

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana nodded and rested her head on her arms, hidng her face. She felt like she was over-reacting a bit - which she was - but she was following her feelings. And her feelings were enraged that she'd seen that.

No, not just that she'd seen it, but that she'd seen it the place she was staying. It felt like an invasion seeing her former owner there, in what was supposed to be a safe place. And she'd lost faith in Brad as a person of safety - she wasn't sure how to react to him now.

Focus on Donata. That's what needs your attention. Hana knew this was true, but she continued to hide her face, wallowing in loss and grief for a moment.

She never should have left home. And when she thought that, she started to cry all the harder.

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel looked uncertainly from Hana to Sparrow. She didn't say anything, but her expression was pretty clearly asking, was it something I said?

A little awkwardly, she moved over to pat Hana's shoulder and offer her presence in earnest, if someone confused, support.

Fame: ?, Padawan Jedi Guardian, CHA: 14, Sternly Pretty, Impassive, Aura: Shimmering Cyan, Race: Echani, Notes: N/A

[Sparrow]

Words only carry you so far. Then you need action.

Sparrow slid her chair around until she was nestles against Hana. She stroked the back of Hana's head and pulled some strain strands of hair away from her face. Being surrounded by people that cared for her and what she thought was the best medicince Sparow could think of right now. Hana needed to find her own way out of this quagmire of emotions she was feeling. She had the tools, but she had to want to use them.

Sparrow could only wonder were Hana's mind was at - what thoughts were going through her head. It was a hard thing seeing her suffer and to know there was nothing she could do to ease that suffering. Jedi Padawan Sparrow gave a quiet prayer to the Force to look after Hana and to help her find her way. She hoped that was enough.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Several Miles Away....

Brad Olan watched transports go by, going about their daily business completely oblivious to what was going on outside their own little worlds. He couldn't really throw stones though, he didn't know what their life was like, and he didn't really care. Behind him, Morgan Tilly's palatial residence shrank into the distance, her driver having been assigned to take him back to his home. Well, the room that served as his home.

This would be the part in the vids where the male character would light up a deathstick and breath in its toxic fumes as he contemplated his most recent sexual conquest. This was not a vid. Deathsticks weren't called that for the catchy name. They were lethal and it was much more likely that a hutt would squeeze itself into a Republic flight suit than he would ever try one of those things. He had seen what they could do. Yeah, screw that idea.

No, this was the part where he contemplated what he had learned. He had learned that the mighty Morgan Tilly had a submissive side that was second to few that he had ever seen. And he had seen a few. The black velvet bag that he brought with him in his travels existed for just such an occasion and he had gotten to make use of a good amount of its contents. She was a genuinely troubled individual. Limber though. More importantly, he had done what he had come to do to begin with. The sex was good, and would likely happen again, soon, but it wasn't the end goal.

The Corellian princess' Twi'lek friend, Donata, was in the tender care of Siddo the Hutt. Not exactly a pleasant individual to say the least. Siddo was the kind of Hutt that gave hutts the reputation they had. Greedy, sadistic, arrogant, and mercenary to the core. He would do anything, no matter how despicable or wretched, for anyone, if the price was right. If the rumors were to be believed, he actually had some dealings with the Sith. And by rumors, Brad meant the fact that Siddo's apparent plan was to use Donata as a trade commodity to pay off some sort of debt.

Brad got out of the vehicle on arrival and pulled out his comm. This was going to require some outside assistance if they were going to do this and survive. He noticed there was a message left for him. Apparently the girls had decided to tell him where they had gone off to in order to escape the general area. That Sparrow one had definitely surprised him. Aside from the kiss she had laid on him, which was fairly rookie but enthusiastic, she was fantastic. The time he had spent pressed against her only made him want to spend more. He would get to that later.

He noted the location that he was given and activated the message system. "Cohrcrcraaoac. Ooanrawh. Ah'howo rrooao cooscwo ohoorcor wwoorc rooohu. Cahscakanwo 'caorawhwa rarcoohuwhwa, rhwo coararcro' aoroakwo ooakworcraaoahoowh. Ahwhaoworcwocaowowa? Anwoao scwo orwhoooh. Shhucao ra acworawac huak, aoacworcwo'c shwowaah ahwhhoooanhowowa. Waoowh'ao wwanahak."(Sith: "Swrrath. Olan. I've got some work for you. Simple 'stand around, be scary' type operation. Interested? Let me know. Just a heads up, there's Jedi involved. Don't flip.") Brad keyed in the address of the place that he would be meeting the girls at and hailed a transport.

[Swrathh]

Swrathh had returned to his shuttle upon receiveing a message from the human called Olan. Retreating to his quarters on his masters ship, Swrathh opens and plays the awaiting message.

Originally Posted By: DirtyRottenScoundrel

"Cohrcrcraaoac. Ooanrawh. Ah'howo rrooao cooscwo ohoorcor wwoorc rooohu. Cahscakanwo 'caorawhwa rarcoohuwhwa, rhwo coararcro' aoroakwo ooakworcraaoahoowh. Ahwhaoworcwocaowowa? Anwoao scwo orwhoooh. Shhucao ra acworawac huak, aoacworcwo'c shwowaah ahwhhoooanhowowa. Waoowh'ao wwanahak."(Sith: "Swrrath. Olan. I've got some work for you. Simple 'stand around, be scary' type operation. Interested? Let me know. Just a heads up, there's Jedi involved. Don't flip.")

Swratth's replayed the message over again to be sure that he had understood the human correctly. The human Olan was at the present the only sentient creature that was aware of Swrrath's true Sith nature. In his short stay on Nar Shadda, he had found him to be a valuable asset in his search on the planet. He had said Jedi were involved! A master and a padwan no doubt. His anger surged at the mere thought of the knowledge of Jedi on the moon. This was very unexpected news, considering the system of Nar Shadda was under Hutt control, Jedi were not a common sight. If Swrathh had not noted their presence upon his arrival, it stood to reason they were unaware of his. Swrathh made what would appear a smile on a human face, and roared out a bloodcurdling cry. He must ensure that he was not spotted until he was sure of what their intent was for being on the planet. The pulse of the Dark Side was beating inside his Wookie blood. The opportunity to test his skills against the Jedi, was to much to pass up. Surprise and the Dark Side with him the Jedi will never know what hit them!

Swrathh turned to his droid and roared out for it to take down his reply message and translate it into Sith. Olanthh, grawrss uthloth'lkt Thrhhrwas. Mlethath unbgagg L'jedth rwarroer'as achhothlac. Kmrrrar harthrr bmmooth l'shloorar n'bths corcoath'utha. <Olan, Will meet you at the marked address. Be sure the Jedi remain unaware of my presence. Things may be rather messy if my existence is prematurely revealed, and I want to discover their reasons for being in this system.>

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Excellent. He keyed instructions to meet him inside the restaurant as he made his way there. It was probably for the best that he had decided to wait until AFTER he was done speaking the language of the most reviled organization in the galaxy to start seeking transportation. The "cabbie" business on Nar Shaddaa was one of the most profitable anywhere. After all, walking from point A to point B was effectively a death trap and not too many bars and clubs had landing pads. (Those that did were often heavily guarded, private landing pads for people he would rather not cross)

Minutes later he was walking into the restaurant that he had been informed they would be at. A quick glance and a word to one of the servers roaming the floor, ordering a drink, and he scanned the place for his 'party'. Sure enough, sticking out like an Ewok at a Jawa camp, there were his associates and his princess, looking as melancholy as ever. Pulling up a chair, flipping it around backwards, and straddling it, he sat at the table, his confidence and general demeanor a stark contrast to the somber tone that was the table's occupants.

"So I take it everyone's seen better days?"

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana had long since stopped crying; she'd left her head down on the table, just avoiding doing anything else. But his voice pulled her out of her fugue, and she looked up at him with eyes and nose red from tears. The princess wasn't a pretty crier, it seemed. "Hey," she said, her voice still thick from crying. "Did you learn what we need?"

Behind him, she saw a Wookie enter. Wearily, she silently begged him/her - can you tell by sight? - to stay on the other side of the room. When he didn't, when he began to drift toward them, she began a silent countdown in her head.

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel gives Brad a narrow look...not hostile, but a bit suspicious. She wasn't sure of the details, but she believed Brad was somehow responsible for Hana's mood. She gives Hana a reassuring pat on the shoulder and maintains her silent watchfulness.

Nar Shadda could be a dangerous place after all, and she had two people to protect now.

[Sparrow]

Sparrow's mood seems the lightest and she smiles at Brad as he makes his approach. Seeing the reactions of her fellows, she shakes her head a bit.

"Better days? I think so. Knowledge is not always learned gracefully, or painlessly."

She looks from Kestral, to Hana then to Brad.

"Here is a Jedi-ism I find useful," she says to no one in particular, but with a smile curving her lips.

"May I have the determination to change what I can change, the patience to deal with what I can not change, and the wisdom to know the difference."

"There is some wisdom and patience being sought here today, I feel."

[Swrathh]

Swrathh mad his way to the designated area in shortly under 30 mins, travel on this slum world was rather inconvient when not preplanned. Making his way into the cantina, Swrathh called on the Dark Side of the force in an effort to locate the Jedi that Brad had said would be present.

As he draws upon the Dark side his subtle probing flows out into the crowd detects a single presence. Tracing the flow to a table of 4 humans, 3 female and one of the male species, He grunts in disgust upon spying the Jedi female in the tan colored shirt. His senses didn’t register any other force users, but Swrathh knew not to dismiss the fact that the other human females were also Jedi. Checking to ensure that his lightsaber was secure and hidden Swrathh lumbers towards the table.

He moved through the crowd in a fearless and purposeful manner, and as he approached the table his eyes locked with on of the other human females, who had spotted him moving towards the table. Ah yes this will be most enjoyable!

[z-Hana Rexius]

The small yellow-furred human was watching him with apprehension in her unnatural sky-blue eyes. With each steps he took toward her, the despair in her face grew. His pride in his own prowess increased as he closed the distance to his small, weak prey. When he arrived behind Brad Olan, the woman's eyes closed, having trouble even looking at him in all his majestic malice. Her lips parted, trembling with fear-

She ruined it by sneezing convulsively three times in a row. Spraying the area with spit and mucus, she grabbed napkins and pressed them to her face. "I'm sorry, I hope you speak Basic," she said softly, "because my Wookie is awful. Could you please move away, a bit?" She waved in a general across-the-room gesture. "I'm allergic, sorry."

[SalmonMax]

The wookie was impossible to miss. Kestrel spotted it halfway across the room, as it became apparent it was staring directly at them and making a beeline for their table.

Without taking her eyes off of it, she says quietly to Brad, "Are you expecting a visit from a large, angry-looking Wookie?"

(can I get an Empathy force skill check? Taking ten for a result of 15?)

[Sparrow]

Sparrow smiles up at the Wookie as the Big Guy finally comes to stop at the table. She says nothing, waiting for the stranger to announce himself, but keeps herself in an easy sense of calm and friendship. On this world, there are too many reasons for a stranger to be hostile, so she is giving no reason for him become angry.

... and then Hana sneezes and she askes the Wookie to take a step back because he ... sheds. The smile never leaves her lips, but worry replaces the positive in her mindset.

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad watched intently as the two spoke. Hana wanted to know if he had gotten his information, and Sparrow was talking about knowledge not being graceful or painless. Well, he wasn't sure he agreed with the graceful part, but not painless, most definitely. When Hana sneezed, he didn't have to be psychic to notice the spike of anger that was his Wookiee associate. Tossing a cautionary glance at Swrathh, as if saying "relax, it's not worth it" he turned his attention back toward the group. He lowered his voice so that it was exceedingly difficult to hear him outside of this table.

"Yes, I got your information. Turns out your friend's found herself on Klatooine. Real piece of work planet, can't decide whether it's a desert or a savannah. Not much difference when it comes down to it. Bright and hot. She's in the care of a hutt by the name of Siddo. Not the friendliest sentient on the Rim, that's for certain. Either way, seems he found himself in a little bit of debt to some folks and she's lined up to be the payoff."

"This here's a friend of mine, he's going to be watching my back for the trip since we're going into some pretty unsavory territory. I would actually recommend much the same thing to you all. Change the clothes, get yourself a blaster. I can make you look like you belong there, but dressed as you are, the best I can pull is beggars."

[Swrathh]

Originally Posted By: Hana Rexius

Could you please move away, a bit?" She waved in a general across-the-room gesture. "I'm allergic, sorry."

Swrathh laughs, the humans certainly mistook that for his speaking. He looked at the Jedi and then back to Brad nodding in response to Brad's look. Swrathh was pleased that his presence had affected the Jedi. He wanted to give in and strike down the Jedi, but doing so wouldn't be conductive to his future plans.

He contiuned to stand and listen as the humans spoke their plans.

[z-Hana Rexius]

Hana, who understood Shyriiwook, knew he was laughing at her. She gave him a dirty look while wondering how in the world Brad had managed to find nothing but sluts and jerks as his close personal associates. When Swrathh continued to stand between her and the ceiling vent, Hana got up and moved around the table, sitting as far from him as she could.

That didn't help the sneezing much, or the building sinus pain. "I need to get some meds when we're done here," she mumbled to no one in particular.

[Sparrow]

Sparrow got up and followed Hana around the table.

"I have some Antihistamines in my kit," offered Sparrow. "We can go back for them at any time you want."

Looking to Brad then up to Swrathh, she addresses the Wookie,

"So, what is your name and what it your area of expertise?" she asks pleasently.

"I'm Sparrow and I'm good at interpersonnel skills. I can find things out."

[Swrathh]

Swrathh didn't understand the look on the human Hanna's face. Humans were an odd lot in life, but he decided it wasn't worth paying any more attention to.

Then the human named Sparrow thought to introduce herself to him. Hrrrawrr Swrathh! Wraararr thrrwatt hwooarr <I am Swrathh, that's all you need to know!>

[z-Hana Rexius]

What a total jerk! Hana thought angrily as she choked back another sneeze. She decided to ignore the walking rug and turned to Brad. "I have a job tomorrow - it'll pay big and should get us all to Klatooine and get us some supplies - clothes and stuff, if we're careful with it."

[z-Hana Rexius]

What a total jerk! Hana thought angrily as she choked back another sneeze. She decided to ignore the walking rug and turned to Brad. "I have a job tomorrow - it'll pay big and should get us all to Klatooine and get us some supplies - clothes and stuff, if we're careful with it."

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad didn't know what Swrathh was saying, but the odds were good that it wasn't very nice. That's just how the wookiee operated. But then again, it wasn't his job to be nice. It was his job to be a complete, standoffish, scay as hell asshole and that was something he did flawlessly.

"I have a job tomorrow - it'll pay big and should get us all to Klatooine and get us some supplies - clothes and stuff, if we're careful with it."

"Good to know, actually. I can put a few credits together as well. Despite it being prohibitively expensive to most, I don't think we'll have any trouble getting off this planet. I think it's about time for me to move on anyway. Never thought I would be going to Klatooine, though. Ah well, no matter.

"Once the funds are acquired, I think it's time to go shopping" Brad positively beamed with that last statement. "Those outfits just aren't going to cut it in court. So I guess the question is this: Is there anything that you will not wear?"

[DirtyRottenScoundrel]

Brad didn't know what Swrathh was saying, but the odds were good that it wasn't very nice. That's just how the wookiee operated. But then again, it wasn't his job to be nice. It was his job to be a complete, standoffish, scay as hell asshole and that was something he did flawlessly.

"I have a job tomorrow - it'll pay big and should get us all to Klatooine and get us some supplies - clothes and stuff, if we're careful with it."

"Good to know, actually. I can put a few credits together as well. Despite it being prohibitively expensive to most, I don't think we'll have any trouble getting off this planet. I think it's about time for me to move on anyway. Never thought I would be going to Klatooine, though. Ah well, no matter.

"Once the funds are acquired, I think it's time to go shopping" Brad positively beamed with that last statement. "Those outfits just aren't going to cut it in court. So I guess the question is this: Is there anything that you will not wear?"

[SalmonMax]

Kestrel gives Brad a suspicious look.

"What did you have in mind?" She looks down at herself and adds, "What's wrong with what we're wearing?"