Fight Night On Dantooine (Estelle, Dasquian)

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Dantooine: Khoonda (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Khoonda): The Kath Hound Gym

Two months after the events of Tears Equals Men Equals Trouble (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17888) and A Bridge To...? (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=17843)

Kazaar hit th'mat hard, his face aching from th'blow, his eyes seein' stars, and his ears buzzin' like a buncha TIEs were bombin' 'em. Th'Barabel above him started hootin' and hollerin', his 'posse' urging 'im on, while the human staggared t'his feet. The two shockboxers circled each other, both bodies showin' the damage they'd taken durin' the bout. Kazaar's face was bloodied and bruised, one of his eyes almost swelled shut, while his left cheek puffed out like some kinda blowfish. Th'Barabel wasn't in much better shape: his nose was knocked in even farther than it should be, a couple pointy teeth from that reptilian smile were gone, and his eyes were dull.

It was th'third fight in nine weeks between th'two and f'Kazaar it was a real good way t'blow off some frackin' steam. After everythin' with Adelaide, th'frackin' Albino, and the Kid's decision t'go into seclusion, it was nice t'find someone he could beat th'hell outta without worryin' 'bout consequences. 'Cept for a few broken ribs, a puffy eyebrow, and whatever brain damage he was gettin' in th'shockboxing ring. 'Course what he was gettin' paid made up f'it...

***************************

Nine Weeks Ago

"150 thousand credits." Th'voice'd shaken Kazaar outta his thoughts while he whaled away onna punchin' bag.

"'Cuse me?" Kazaar didn't bother turnin' t'face the voice.

"150 thousand credits." Th'voice spoke again after th'former bounty hunter smacked th'bag five more times. "For three fights."

This caused Kazaar t'give a *snort* and turn towards the voice. A muscular Barabel stood in front o'him, his reptilian body shining in sweat. Leather-skinned clothing covered most of his body and he had a large knife clipped t'his belt. Behind him stood four other slightly smaller Barabels, their arms crossed. It was pretty obvious these guys were part o'the lead Barabel's 'hunting party'. "Ain't interested pal. Go find someone else t'beat." Th'Barabel's entourage mumured disapproval and Kazaar smirked. "What? Ya frackin' Scaleheads never hear someone turn down a fight?"

Lead Barabel held up his arm and Kazaar spied a long scar around his left eye. "You do know who I am, yes?"

"Yeh. You're Corson Drif, eight-time Outer Rim Shockboxing champ." A chuckle. "What? Ya wanna medal're somethin'? Kinda all out."

Drif's smile was pretty frackin' scary and he ignored the human's scoffing. "If you know who I am, then you know I have a big fight against Tull Raine (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tull_Raine) in four months. I want you to help me train for the fight."

This caused Kazaar t'pause a moment. "Wait...ya know I don't do shockboxin' and I ain't exactly a Barabel either. Th'frack do ya want with me?"

Drif gave a serpentine smile, "I saw you fight Irtig Wex."

Kazaar rolled his eyes. The 'fight' with Irtig Wex'd been 'cause the Barabel rogue law enforcement agent decided t'murder five of Gorgja's associates after he'd avoided payin' a debt. When Kazaar'd caught up to Wex, the two engaged inna lengthy shootout on Bespin which ended when both shooters ran outta ammo (last time Kazaar had that happen t'him). After Wex'd crashed his cloud car, the two fought hand-to-hand for 'bout ten minutes, throwin' punches and kicks at th'other. Kazaar'd barely won that fight, but a frackin' Holonet camera droid just happened t'catch th'entire damn thing. He'd gotten a small bit o'celebrity outta it (which was why he tried t'avoid going t'Bespin as much as possible. Frackin' hated signing autographs, plus it drew unwanted attention t'Kazaar's Rebel activities).

"That ain't reason 'nough." Kazaar protested, giving th'bag another two smacks with his fists.

Drif and his group o'lackeys all laughed. "Sure it is. I know you can handle fighting me, so why not?"

"'Cause maybe I ain't in th'mood." Kazaar groused, knowin' he was gonna lose this fight. He took a swig from a flask next to a water bottle. "Been beat up 'nough th'last few months. Like t'go 'least three months before I gotta spend some time in th'hospital."

The lackeys chuckled and the Barabel shockboxer gave another toothy smile. "I'm sure I can find reasons for you to be involved in this. If you beat me two out of three fights...how about 250 thousand credits?"

Th'Rebel spy gave a glare. "Ya ain't gonna let me say 'No' are ya?"

Another serpentine grin from Drif. "I always get what I want, Kazaar."

***************************

Kazaar ducked a punch from Drif and popped him twice in th'face. He'd won th'first fight by knockout (caught the Barabel unawares with a haymaker) and lost th'second one by th'same thing (pummelled with a combination uppercut'n roundhouse that'd sent him t'dreamland real quick). Now in th'third fight, it was pretty clear this'd be goin' a while. Both fighters weren't in th'mood t'give up and through th'first seven rounds both of 'em beat th'hell outta the other.

One thing Kazaar noticed durin' th'third round was Drif's reach. It was shorter than th'last time they'd tangled and Kazaar had a sneaky suspicion the Barabel injured himself somehow. Plus the way he was startin' t'throw haymakers, made Kazaar wonder if he'd frustrated th'shockboxing pro 'nough. He blocked a roundhouse before taking two quick shots in the stomach. The wind shout outta Kazaar's chest and he let his guard down slightly. His black eyes barely caught th'fist as it shot towards his chin, a knockout blow if there was ever one. Kazaar raised his left hand slightly, then felt pain shoot through it as he deflected th'blow away from his face. He went t'one knee and shook his head, while th'ref started countin'. Then he got up.

Anger shot through his system, as he remmebered everythin' that'd happened th'last few months. From Sarapin t'Adelaide it all came back t'him. Kazaar rose t'his feet and th'contest between puglists became, as one smashball commentator would call it "a punch in th'face contest". Blow after blow connected with such fury th'ring moved 'least half an inch with every blow. The fighters knew it wasn't gonna last much longer, eventually someone would tire out from th'fight.

Turns out it was both of 'em. Drif swung a hard right at Kazaar face, just as th'former bounty hunter's own right hand was comin' underneath inna uppercut. Both fists connected with th'others chin and th'shockboxers went down.

1....2....3...

Kazaar felt like he'd been thrown inna cool pool, his body floatin' in water that made him wonder if he'd gotten into a whirlpool instead o'the hard canvas...

4....5....6

Th'Barabel stared aimlessly up at th'ceiling, his yellow eyes dazed. He heard people chantin' his name, but wasn't sure why...

7....8....9

Both men rolled onto their hands and knees and tried t'get up. The weight on their bodies was immense and somehow, both of 'em figured they were done...

TEN!

A bell rung from somewhere and th'match was called a draw. Th'crowd's roar was either in shock, approval, or anger Kazaar couldn't tell. He winced as he tried t'get his arms t'hold him up. "Drink this." A cool, familiar voice told 'im, as a squirt bottle was placed between his split lips. "It'll help you get your bearings straight. What were you thinking, doing something crazy like that?"

Kazaar smirked, through th'haze. "Ya shoulda seen th'second fight. Where th'hell've ya been?"

[Estelle Russard]

Russard looked into Kazaar's one 'good' eye, the other was now completely swollen shut, and tested his lucidity.

"I been belly-dancing in Nar Shadda; Wampa wrestling on Hoth; Teaching Wookies to yodel on Kashyyyk - which of the three is likely?"

Kazaar styled a lascivious grin through broken lips, "Ya still got t'outfit?"

Yep. He was lucid. At least, his brain was firing in its familiar fashion and Estelle shook her head, giving him a crooked smile. "Lucky for you that you were born with such a thick skull. Can you get up?"
Aurelias squeezed more water into his mouth, then over his head, flourishing the bottle around in a circular fashion, and nodded.

The crowd roared louder as he got to his feet, both combtants looking across the ring at each other with the odd respect fighters have for one another. Estelle rolled her eyes..the Force save us..And helped Kazaar from the ring.

Struggling under her partners weight, his sweaty arm draped over her shoulders, Estelle maneuvered with great effort her shock-boxing champ toward the dressing room, fending off autograph-seekers and (of all things) boxer groupies along the way.

"What the frell are you thinking, Aurelias" she griped unhappily, beginning to think her partner had developed some death-wish during her extended absence in Princess Falls.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya know, Kid." Kazaar groused, his voice even more muffled than normal. "You were th'one who disappeared when I got back from m'business. So I had t'find some way t'keep m'self occupied. And ya know how much I love gettin' m'*** beaten down." Estelle rolled her eyes at that comment and her partner smirked. "Ain't like I've heard from our 'masters' inna while." Scuttlebutt said Bossman spent some time running 'round (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=16233) with Gracey and who knew what th'frack 'The Black Man' was up to. Guy liked t'disappear as much as he liked t'pop up when ya least expected it.

"Honestly Kid, where th'frack did you go? Ya dad 'n granddad wouldn't say (even after I gave 'em a box o'cigars). Ya decide t'join a mission or didja go t'some kinda conference on vanishin' acts?"

[Estelle Russard]

"You are now (ugh) leaning on the newest Graduate from Tarkin University of Art and Design" she said, assisting in pulling off Kazaar's gloves and pushing him into a shower stall. "Im now officially a free-lance appraiser" she said, a hint of pride buouying up her tone.

She turned the shower on, starting it deliberately with a shock of cold, and then adjusted it to where it was steaming and turning his body pink. His shorts were weighted down by the water and in serious danger of slipping, so Estelle got busy looking for where they kept the towels.

"Besides.." she continued raising her voice so he could hear her over the running water, "..You were back much quicker than I thought --" She moved closer to the stall, leaning with her back against the glass and holding the towel out for his easy reach. "--Whats up with that?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Th'cold actually helped him get some o'his senses back. Then it just started frackin' stinging. Kazaar let outta deep breath once his muscles started loosening from th'heat and tried t'concentrate on the Kid's words.

"..You were back much quicker than I thought--" Kazaar took th'towel from Estelle's lithe hands and wrapped it 'round his waist. "Whats up with that?"

He remained in th'shower, taking a bit t'form his thoughts 'round her question. "We talked 'bout it, decided it wasn't worth remainin' together." A shrug. "Felt like it wasn't worth puttin' effort int'something that's gonna fall 'part again." Kazaar opened th'glass doors and Estelle saw the pained expression in his damaged face. She had a feeling it wasn't because of th'blows he'd taken. "Delly needs someone 'round who's gonna be there f'her. Not someone who's dodgin' blaster bolts every other day. And I ain't that guy." Kazaar wiped water outta his eyes and winced in pain (dammit, that frackin' hurt).

"Part o'life, Kid. What else do ya want me t'say?"

[Estelle Russard]

She looked at him for a long time, not really certain what she had wanted him to say, now that he asked. She was ashamed to admit that some place inside her, she was relieved he had not stayed with Adelaide. Her father would be mortified to know it.

She was sorry for him -- for them -- of course, without question. She knew how much pain they were both in and it had made sense to her that they would have looked to one another for comfort. They were both in the same place, beaten and hurting and completely vunerable. Estelle wondered just what the heck kind of circumstances it took for Kazaar to take a risk to have some one close...

He began to squirm under her unbroken gaze and dropped his eyes. Estelle hurt for him and wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Im sorry I left you on this" she said softly, her words heartfelt. "I thought it would be a good time for you and Del to have some space. If I'd known..." her words trailed off. If she'd known, she might still have gone away alone, her confused feelings about her partner had needed some attention beyond the need for her to get her studies in order. And she had thought she had sorted everything out. Until now, that is. Aurelias allowed her to embrace him, help him, and for some reason Estelle felt that they were both exactly where they should be.

Until, that is, Corson Drif and his entourage arrived hyped and boisterous into the dressing room.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Well, well, well." Drif's smile showed th'four teeth he'd lost in th'fight and he had a rather large bacta bandage over his nose. "Looks like you got started on th'evening entertainment earlier." His face then went quizzical. "Hey Johnny. I thought I ordered a blond for our boy here? Who's th'chick, Kazaar."

Kazaar gave th'shockboxer an odd-lookin' smirk. "M'partner, Drif. She hits harder'n me."

Th'room howled with laughter and th'Rebels joined 'long. Th'Babarel, his laughter noticeably loud. "Did ya heard the voices of the fans out there, Kazaar? They were all shouting 'One more round! One more round!' They didn't want us to quit. I told them we'd do it after I fight Raine next month." He smiled again. "Who knows...maybe I'll give you my first title shot." Kazaar gave a painful chuckle as th'door behind th'groupies opened. "Almost forgot." Drif scratched at one of his bandages. "I got your credits here. 200 grand."

"Two hundred?"

"150 for the three fights and an extra 50 for tying in the last one." The shockboxer smiled as 'Johnny' set a brown briefcase down on th'trainin' table, then popped th'clasps. "Not as much as you could have made. But still a good haul.

"So what do you think, Kazaar? Want a rematch?"

Another chuckle from th'human shockboxer. "Might not be too bad of'n idea. But my 'agent' might get th'last say on that."

Drif's face turned quizzical. "Agent?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

The door to the dressing room edged open, though this time a little more tentatively. It was one of the security staff for the gym.

“Uh, got a couple here who says they need ta see ya, Kazaar. Should I let'em-”

Before the question could be finished, let alone answered, the door swung hard on its hinges and two of the most garish looking individuals to grace The Kath Hound swept into the room. The man had dark hair, slicked back with grease, and a cigar bit hard between his teeth. Gold chains hung heavy around his neck, and on each finger there was a plump ring. He wore an insipid beige suit, that looked as if it had been stolen from a used speeder salesman. His counterpart, with her hair twisted into a bee-hive and bug-eye sunglasses eclipsing most of her face, looked no more tasteful.

“You can't just walk in here, you know?” the security guard moved to step in front of Dasquian, but he held up one hand – which was, all things considered, a feat in itself.

“Eeehhhh... relax, guy! Just here to see an old pal, ain't that right?”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Yeh let 'em in." Kazaar answered and Estelle saw his right eye darken a bit. It changed almost instantly, as th'Rebel spies turned back to Drif. "I'm all for a rematch, Drif. Like I said, m'agent'll have his say innit."

The Barabel shockboxer turned his massive, bruised body towards Kazaar's 'agent'. "Gorgja's contact? Thought he dealt directly with his employees?"

A pained shrug from Kazaar, as a doctor walked up to him and pressed a large bacta bandage over th'left side of his face. 'Least it kept 'im from havin' t'stare at th'Bossman's companion. What th'frack was she doin' here?

Drif tried t'snort in response t'the human's shrug but winced instead from th'pain. "Looks more like a couple pimps to me...and bad ones at that" His entourage roared in agreement. "So what do ya say? Does Kazaar have permission to have another go around in the ring with me? Or are you gonna spoil our fun? Lot of creds to be made on it."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

The woman next to Dasquian tapped her mirrorshades down her nose to look at Drif. Her head had to tilt upwards since the Barabel had about a foot on her. Her center of gravity was off because of the ridiculous hairstyle that her partner picked out, but she some how managed to look threatening. Next time she was picking out the outfits.

Barabels were an intimidating species for the squeamish. They were large, powerful and possessed sharp teeth and claws that could tear human flesh like paper.

Grace didn't even bat an eye. "He's done here."

Pressing the glasses back into place, her face hardened as she looked at Kazaar. She could see it in his stance. He was upset that she was here and it made the Agent feel all warm and fuzzy inside that she could get under his skin. He knew not to cross her. All she needed was one reason and his butt would be thrown in the brig.

In the briefest of moments, her features softened seeing Estelle again. They hadn't spoken to each other much since her training was completed. It would be nice to talk with her again, even if it was only business.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle hid her astonishment well. She had been expecting she and Kazaar were to rendevous with the Director for a briefing, but she had not expected to see him in such incognito. And with Grace in tow. The pair could not have been more outlandish if they'd tried, but somehow, it worked for them and their present company seemed to buy it. Russard was momentarily speechless. Just what was Dasquian wearing? It was with difficulty that she pulled her eyes from the two of them and addressed her partner, "You better get dressed. I think your plans to take me out to dinner just got changed to a business meeting". She even managed a pout, which was greatly to her credit considering the Director was puffing clouds of cigar smoke into all their faces.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar's snort sounded more nasal than normal 'n he winced from th'pain shootin' up his face. "We'll talk later Drif. 'm sure we can come up wit' something. I'm all f'going another round or two with ya. After ya win that championship."

Corson Drif's smile was crooked. "If I lose?"

"We'll talk." Th'two fighters exchanged grins'n saluted each other by pressin' outstretched fists t'gether. 'The Kid' figured it was one of those 'shock-boxin' things' and neither Bossman nor Gracey batted an eye. As th'Barabel turned towards th'door Kazaar called t'em. "Hey Drif. You're droppin' ya right shoulder when ya jab. Leavin' yaself open."

Drif smiled another semi-toothed smile, nodded, then left with his entourage. Th'doctor messed 'round with Kazaar's face a little more, placing smaller bandages underneath his right eye and ontop of his forehead. "Dammit, Doc that's 'nough!" Kazaar shouted. "Ya put any more o'those damn things on me, I'm gonna start lookin' like some frackin' mummy! Ya did ya job, I'll b'fine. Ain't like I'm plan on takin' any more blows t'the head today." Kazaar figured it wasn't a complete lie. 'Course no one knew how he and Gracey were gonna get 'long.

Th'doc eventually walked outta th'room, leavin' th'four Rebels alone. Both Belargic'n Van-Derveld walked 'round th'room with some kinda bug-seekin' device in their hands. Dantooine was a pretty Alliance-friendly place, but ya had t'make sure. 'Specially if th'Imperial base commander decided 'is bribe wasn't large 'nough.

When the 'All clear' was given, Kazaar spoke first, his guttual voice flush with anger. "Where th'frack've you two been. Lettin' us sit 'round f'nine frackin' months not doin' a damn thing. What...didja decide t'put th'fracking war off forra bit?" His black eyes shot blasterbolts. "Or didja just come 'ere t'say," His voice changed into a bastardized Coruscanti-accent. "'Sorry, you're still suspended for your actions on Nar Shaddaa and at Crei's mansion.'?"

Th'former bounty hunter switched back t'his normal voice. "So Bossman...is our 'penance' up? Or did th'two of you just come 'ere t'tell us no?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

“Where we've been,” Dasquian began, “...has nothing to do with you, Kazaar.”

At his side, a smile had spread across Grace's lips. Her arms were folded over her chest and the smug expression on her face said that she took some pleasure in denying Aurelias the knowledge of his superiors activities. Whatever had delayed them from meeting with Kazaar and 'the Kid' was clearly not up for discussion.

“We haven't forgotten about Nar Shaddaa, or the business or Coruscant... but I'm afraid we'll have to delay any further disciplinary action, as we have need of your services. I believe both of you are currently free from assignments,” he said, his tone almost perfunctory, as he knew perfectly well what they were supposed to be doing, at least when it came to their contracted work for the Alliance.

“We have a critical situation developing at the Obas station, and I need the two of you to deal with it.”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Ya mean, you're actually lettin' us go do work?" Kazaar's sarcasm was hard t'miss. "Took ya long 'nough."

"Aurelias, that's enough." Estelle shot in a bit more forcefully than she meant to.

Her partner snorted and scratched th'back of his head. Kid was showin' she had guts. Must be rubbin' off on 'er. "Whatta ya need, Bossman?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

“My partner here will fill you in on the way to your transportation - assuming, of course, that you can still walk and talk?”

The barest hint of a smirk was on the Director's lips, his voice matching the sardonic tone that Kazaar was so fond of. Grace, her features a grim mask of determination, turned to leave and gave a gesture for Aurelias to follow. When Estelle began to fall into step alongside her incorrigible partner, Dasquian held up one hand.

“A moment of your time, agent...”

[Estelle Russard]

That bad feeling about this sensation that everybody tended to get on a frequently recurring basis in this galaxy struck Estelle quite assertively. She hid her alarm well, atleast she thought she had, but the Director's expression served only to unsettle her further. Dasquian had a gentle way about him, an understated style that was infinitely more unnerving that her partner's brick-in-the-face approach. Estelle was atleast used to that type of non-subtlety from Kazaar and knew how to counter-act it. Dasquian Belargic was a very different story and his quiet, appraising eyes let her know he could read her a whole lot better than she could ever hope to read him, and that she may as well give up any guise she may be entertaining to attempt.

The Director was an intimidating figure to the young rebel, not just by reason of his status, nor because of his deceptively disarming style. But he was quite the dish, and Estelle lived in trepidation that on one of the few times they interacted with each other she just might, at any inappropriate moment, blurt that small fact out.

Kazaar stomped out heavily after Grace, exit allies one and two. Frell.

"Yes, Director, of course" she managed to mumble, her confidence unconvincing.

They could hear Aurelias grousing something to Grace, even as the door closed behind him.

[Dasquian Belargic]

The cigar that had served as part of Dasquian's disguise was laid to rest, for a moment, in a novelty ash-tray the shape of a Stormtrooper's helmet. At this, Belargic couldn't help but smirk and the expression lingered on his lips as he looked up at Estelle. She looked... anxious, apprehensive even. It wasn't an emotion he tried to instil in others, but it was preferable to Kazaar's sass.

“It's been a while since we touched based,” he began. “Things being what they are, I don't really have time for a detailed blow-by-blow of everything that's gone on with you – with the two of you, even. Needless to say, I've read the reports and, well – frankly, it's difficult to avoid news of your escapades.”

If she had expected anger in his tone, at this point, there was none forthcoming. The smirk had smoothed into something of a familiar smile.

“I'm actually quite grateful that you've taken some of the limelight away from myself and Grace – but that's not why I wanted to talk to you. Grace wanted to do this in a more official manner, but I prefer to play things a little more off the cuff. So... as of today, you're going to be acting as a Senior Operative. You get a little more breathing space, and perhaps best of all – well, depending on which way you look at it – you get the job of holding Kazaar's leash.”

Then, as if suspecting that she had been doing just that all along, he added. “With the added incentive of a little pay rise too, of course.”

[Estelle Russard]

The gamut of emotions progressed from Estelle's nervous apprehension as to what the Director might wish to discuss, to surprise and then her eventual delight at the news of her promotion. A slow, and even guilty, smile crept across her face at the thought of sharing this news with her partner.

"I have to say, Director, this is unexpected" she responded, "But I am very happy to have your's and Grace's confidence. I am very grateful for this" she said. "Holding Kazaar's leash, as you say, is not something anyone can really do successfully unless he allows it, but I admit, I think we make a good team at it. For the most part" she added, and that was as close as she would steer near their recent activies. Instead, she focused deliberately on what was ahead.

"Can I know the situation at Obas, and what you would like us to do?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

“If anyone can reign him in,” Dasquian replied with a near knowing smile, “I'm sure it's you.”

The playful tone was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by something more grave.

“As for Obas – I'm not sure exactly what's going on there, to be honest. We received a priority transmission not more than two hours ago, requesting assistance as soon as possible. The base there is a key point for us in the Expansion Region. It's integral to keeping our agents in the vicinity well informed and well supplied. Grace has the contact details for the base administrator, but we haven't received any response from him since we replied to their initial message... I try not to be pessimistic, but sometimes we have to expect the worst.”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Speakin' of th'worst...Kazaar and Gracey'd strode into a whirlpool room so she could 'brief him' on whatever upcomin' mission Bossman wanted 'em t'go on. She tossed 'im a bug detector, then started scanning th'walls f'anything. "Ya know, Gracey," Kazaar snorted, activatin' his bug scanner anyway. "If th'Imps wanted t'catch us, doubt they'd spend their time buggin' this place."

Gracey came back with some retort and Kazaar smirked. He loved gettin' under Van-Derveld's skin. Just like she enjoyed torturin' him. The Rebels scanned th'small room findin' nothing (as Kazaar predicted) and he tossed, or rather, threw th'bug detector back towards Van-Derveld. She caught it in one hand and th'Brentaal-raised Alderaanian smirked, then lit up onna cigar. "Happy now?" He got a nod in return.

"So...ya wanna tell me what th'frack is goin' on?" Another puff and even through his broken nose, Kazaar enjoyed th'smoke's scent. "Or we gonna play 'let's find where th'Imp bug is' all night?"

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace's smile thinned into a predatory smirk as Kazaar tried to get under her skin as always. Where as most people like to say 'Hello, how are you doing', to one another, Kazaar rather spit venom at the stoic Van-Derveld, hoping to get a rise out of her. So far, Grace was winning. She prided herself on her controlling her emotions and refused to let dren like Kazaar get the best of her.

They like each other since day one since Belargic's decision to have Kazaar reinstated into the Rebel Alliance as part of Intel after being dishonorable discharged from torturing an Imperial prisoner to gain information. Grace tried to, quite passionately, sway her partner from making that decision, but she was overruled. So Intel gained a blessing and a curse that day. He produced results, but Kazaar still teetered on that fine line of right and wrong. But the day that he crossed the line, she would be there to lock his sorry hezmana away for the rest of his life.

"There's trouble on Obas," she said, ignoring his jabs. "We don't know what's going on there but a priority transmission requesting help was received roughly two standard hours ago. We've been trying to contact the Base Administrator since the initial transmission, but all we've been getting is dead space. Obas is important to us because of its key location. So we need you and Russard to find out what happened."

She tossed him a datachit. "That has all the information you need on Ravenna Huber, the Admin, as well as specs of the crew stationed there, clearance codes, the usual."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar nodded. "Sounds pretty clean cut." He paused a moment t'wipe some blood that'd started trickling from his nose. Damn Barabel punched 'im too frackin hard. 'Course it was probably in response t'Kazaar takin' out two of his teeth but who knew.

"Wanna tell me why th'Bossman's talking t'the Kid alone? Or is that 'above my frackin' paygrade'?"

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace broke her stoicism and laughed sharply. "Oh no. This isn't classified information or about your 'frackin' paygrade'."

She had imitated him perfectly.

"I wanted the esteemed pleasure of informing you face to face that I will be personally joining the two of you on this mission." Grace's tone turned cold suddenly. "It's been awhile since either Belargic or I have supervised your actions in the field. This is a good of time as any to do that."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You gotta be frackin' kidding." Th'look on Kazaar's face was incredulous. It'd been a while since anyone ever questioned his abilities t'get a job done (and they spent three weeks suckin' through a straw). This reeked of Gracey's doin'. Just her way o'telling him who was in charge. Which was fine, he never gave a damn 'bout becomin' anything more than an operative. Frack destiny, Kazaar was more concerned 'bout survival. "Since when've we ever not gotten a frackin' job done? We're all Rebels here ain't we?"

[Grace Van-Derveld]

"I don't give a slugs hezmana of what you and Russard have and haven't done! You know damn well that your on probation, and I need to make sure that things are getting done properly with my own eyes." Her nose twitched just slightly, the only indication that she was far more angry then she let on.

"I haven't observed Russard in the field either. I figure i do double duty so cope, Kazaar." Grace hit the panel by the door and it slid open. "Now get cleaned up. We'll be leaving soon."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"That's a load a crap." Kazaar mouthed off, not carin' what happened next. "You'n Bossman going through a 'rough patch' or somethin'?" He gave an ugly smirk. "What...he ain't doin' it for ya anymore? I bet ya wan--"

[Grace Van-Derveld]

CRACK!!!

Van-Derveld's fist connected squarely against Kazaar's nose in a culmination of the last nerve being triggered. She had her own code and standards that she abide by, but he crossed the line and the Rebel would not tolerate his insolence any further.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Blood poured from Kazaar nose as he fell backwards from th'blow. His elbow collided with a tray of some kind, spilling a buncha towels and plates which made a loud *clatter* when they hit th'ground. Kazaar saw stars as his head smacked against th'floor and his entire head throbbed. He'd known he was pushin' Gracey's buttons pretty hard and t'get that kinda reaction was what he was hopin' for. 'Cept for th'fact she re-broke his nose. Damn thing would probably heal deformed.

He swore vehemently as he used a towel t'wipe off his face. Now he'd hafta take another frackin' shower. Kazaar was halfway tempted t'break his 'no punching girls' rule, but takin' out Gracey would probably get 'im thrown in th'brig again. And he wasn't in th'mood f'that. Instead, Kazaar's black eyes shot blasterbolts at Gracey and he forced a chuckle beneath th'towel. "Ya gotta helluva right hook, Gracey." A smirk. "Bet th'Barabel would like a round're two with ya."

It was 'bout then Bossman and th'Kid walked in.

[Estelle Russard]

Russard stopped mid-sentence, her words evaporating even as her mouth dropped open in incredulty. Kazaar - his nose bloodied and him sprawled on the floor surrounded by plates and towels and an upturned tray, painted an eloquent picture of what she and the Director had just walked in on.

Grace merely arched an eyebrow, as if to ask "what did anyone expect?" and Estelle could only groan. She felt like recapturing her last words to Dasquian about her and Aurelias being a great team and beating her partner around the head with them. When would the man learn? This animosity between he and Grace was seldom so visibly apparent, which proved to Russard that it was not easing over time, but rather, it was escalating...and she had a good idea who was most responsible for it.

However, as incorrigible as he was, being decked, bloodied and disciplined by his female superior infront of his boss and partner was punishment enough in Estelle's mind and she supressed her chastening remarks, choosing rather to help Kazaar to his feet.

"When are you ever gonna learn..?" she said softly, and more than a bit annoyed, as she levered him up to his feet.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"When Rodians learn t'fly, Kid." Kazaar responded and Estelle had a feelin' he'd tried to...teach...them more than a few times. He wiped more blood from his nasal area and heard a couple *pops* in his nose. Gracey'd done more damage than he'd originally thought, as Kazaar tried not t'wince. His nose was really broken. Wouldn't require surgery but he'd hafta spend more time inna bacta tank. Th'thought o'that made Kazaar's nose hurt even more.

Even in his pain, Kazaar still glowered at Gracey. "Ain't too keen 'bout her comin' along Bossman." His speech was a little off with th'broken nose. "Sure ya can't get 'er t'do somethin' else." Like go onna trip t'Hoth. Ice Queen'd fit right in with th'wampas. Kazaar smirked at th'thought but didn't bother voicin' it. 'Sides, hurt t'talk.

[Dasquian Belargic]

The broken nose was unexpected, yet at the same time he had felt that it was only a matter of time before something exploded between Grace and Aurelias. Though he didn't condone it, it was better them getting their grievances settled now, before they were in the thick of the mission. Pushing one hand back through his slicked hair, Dasquian sighed.

“This isn't up for discussion. Get to the ship, there's a medical unit on board.”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar tried t'snort, remembered his broken nose and didn't. "It better." He accepted th'cotton wads 'The Kid' handed him. "Ya comin' on this mission too Bossman?" Another held back snort. "Sounds like it's gonna be double-date, Kid." A smirk. "An' me without m'nice pair o'pants."

[Dasquian Belargic]

Neither the snarky comment nor the smirk they were delivered with phased Belargic. He had learned to roll with Kazaar's punches, over time. It was a skill that few possessed, but Dasquian's patience was almost infinite. For a moment in his position, it was invaluable.

“No. I'm afraid I have other problems to deal with, so our double-date will have to wait for another time.”

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle gave Grace an apologetic look over her partner's head, the kind women the galaxy over exchanged when they knew men were stupid, and the world just had to live with it.

She had not known Grace was coming to Obas, but welcomed the idea. Too often the rebels embarked on a mission, only to realise the situation was bigger or worse than Intel had reported and an extra operative could make all the difference between success or failure. The tension, though, between Grace and Aurelias may prove to be just as big a trial of her new leadership status, than the task at hand.

"I will keep you appraised of our progress, Director Belargic" Estelle assured Dasquian as she passed, blushing a little sheepishly. The whole situation would be comical if they all didn't know what kinds of things were at stake. Still, the idea of double-dating socially with Dasquain Belargic was a thought she'd entertain some other time, when her thoughts wouldn't be so transparent.

"Come on Kazaar, lets get you cleaned up"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Like it's my frackin' fault I brought only one shirt." Kazaar grumped as Estelle handed him another towel. He'd sure bled a gusher that was f'sure. Shirt'd hafta be washed 'least twice t'get all th'blood outta it. Could be worse, Kazaar figured. Could be brain fluid dripping outta his hard head. He'd need all th'brain fluid he had t'deal with Gracey. "Hang on a second, Kid." Kazaar's stare into th'mirror made it seem like he was trying t'dare the opposing image into doin' something. Finally, he grabbed his nose and pulled it over t'the left.

*CRACK*

"FRACK!" Blood poured from his nose as Kazaar reset th'bone. It stopped a moment later, but his face felt like it was on frackin' fire.

Th'Kid handed him a white tanktop, which he carefully pulled over his head. "You really are a mess, Aurelias." Estelle shook 'er head as she wadded up Kazaar's old shirt and stuffed it into his gym bag. "Do I even want to know what you just did?"

Kazaar only smirked, then swore as his finger accidently grazed his nose. Frackin' Gracey, why chould she've hit 'im in the eye or th'jaw. "Reset th'bone. Bacta'll heal it sure, but I wanna make sure it grows back right. I look good t'you?" He smirked again as th'Kid rolled 'er eyes. "C'mon let's go."

He strode outta th'room, pretending t'ignore th'looks Belargic and Gracey gave 'im. "What? Ya wanna wait 'round f'me t'bleed out? Let's frackin' go." He turned 'round and started stridin' away.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

When Kazaar left, Grace's grim grew darker and there was a look in her eye that Dasquian rarely saw unless the Imperials were brought up in conversation. It was a deep resentful loathing that bordered on a murderous rage. It was a side that the Assistant Director was embarrassed by, but unlike Kazaar, her emotions never dictated her actions. Until today. She had lost control and was ashamed by it.

"I shouldn't go with. Not now," she mumbled to him.

[Dasquian Belargic]

With a slight down-turn of his mouth, Dasquian gave his partners shoulder a squeeze. Although he understood where Grace was coming from, he couldn't afford to jeopardize the Obas station because of what had transpired.

“I need you there... just make sure it doesn't happen again.”

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Hey!" Kazaar's gruff voice, oddly (and rather hysterically) muted by th'broken nose, called from th'entrance of the ring area. "We goin' or you two gonna stand 'round there like a buncha frackin' Endor chickens all night." He disappeared again, but not before 'The Kid' gave th'two Rebel higherups an apologetic look, shrugged, and disappeared.

[Estelle Russard]

The wave of Estelle's hand brought one of the many hover-cabs that were idling outside the arena in anticipation of fares, up to where they stood.

The crowds that had thronged the place ring-side had long since dispersed, leaving a few knots of loiterers to mill about, sadly having no better place to go and perhaps hoping for some event to punctuate the end of their evening with something unexpected.

"What're ya staring, Mook?" Kazaar challenged one attendee who looked just a little too long at the ill-used rebel. The man was quick to place his attention elsewhere, eager to avoid receiving a beating of his own.

"Get in the cab, Aurelias" Estelle directed, maneuvering her partner away from trouble and around to the open door. A brief hesitation to catch Grace's eye, to assure that the Assistant Director had seen them, and Estelle then followed Kazaar, folding herself into the vehicle.

"There's one more to come" she advised the driver, who responded with something unintelligible, but which Russard took as an "ok".

Turning her attention to her partner, the young rebel shook her head. Whatever Kazaar was, the man was always such a warrior to her in everything he did and this remarked him to her more than any one particular trait.

"You know the trouble with being angry at the world, Aurelias.." she began, and he gave her that derisive snort that usually attended all offerings of pearly wisdom, "...is that sometimes, the world gets angry right back. And you know a woman's wrath is fury of the worst kind of all"

Kazaar adjusted his nose.

"And the Assistant Director, of all women..." she let the thought end with its due exasperation. Then, relenting, she smiled at him gently, "Does it hurt badly?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Naw, it's just fine, Kid." Kazaar uttered. "I like gettin' m'nose broken twice in one day." He sneered. "'Course it hurts. Hurts like frackin' hell. I tell ya." He wiped his nose clean 'gain. "That woman's gotta helluva right hook. If she didn't drive m'nuts, might fall in love with 'er." He smirked. "Only kiddin', Kid."

His eyes glanced up into th'driver's rearview mirror. He was gettin' racoon eyes...just frackin' great. Made 'im look like some kinda ghost who hadn't gotten 'nough sleep. "I swear, Kid. Next time...just might actually defend m'self."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Grace stiffened at her partners touch. "I'm not so sure I can promise that. It was only a matter of time before this happened, but I thought myself better."

She slid the outrageous pair of sunglasses back on and allowed her hair to topple around her shoulders. It bounced, clinging like curls that hugged at her face. Grace wanted her face concealed as much as possible to hide her shame, especially in front of Estelle. She knew how the young woman had looked up to her, and after all these months, this was her greeting - belting her partner in the face and breaking his nose. Quite far from what she envisioned happening.

"But if you insist..."