Wrong Side of the Table

[Cyrus Haman]

Coruscant: Russard Mansion:

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

"Oh c'mon!" The weaselly looking man swore beneath his breath and knocked on the door three more times. He was shivering in the rain, more mad at Kazaar than anything else.

"Open up Kazaar!" He shivered again. Shouldn't the Russards have some kind of butler?!? "You pulled me outta a warm bed with a nice former senator, then don't answer my calls?!?

"This was a Zeltron former senator. A frelling Zeltron!" Cyrus Haman took a few steps outside the door and wiped rain off his bald head. "You're lucky I like ya so much Kazaar!

"But I need my creds!"

The door finally opened.

"Took ya damn long enough." Haman burst in, not looking at who opened the door. "You know how cold it is out there? I don't want Senator Blue thinking I've ignored her."

"So...where's my money. Ya owe me three hundred!"

[Estelle Russard]

The man holding open the door arched an unimpressed eyebrow and, at a glance, took Cyrus in with a deft appraisal, coming to an unflattering conclusion about him. One of the Bounty hunter's friends. Obviously.

"This way, sir, if you please"

"Damn well I please" blustered Haman in reply, stepping in gingerly behind the doorman who, Cyrus thought, looked more like an extreme wrestler trounced up in a foppish evening suit. His round bald head was much larger than his own hairless pate, and quite a deal shinier. Thick, broad shoulders practically hid Cyrus who trailed in his wake like a small tug-boat behind an oil tanker, so that when he was ushered into the main sitting room of the Russard Mansion, it took a moment before anyone realised he had arrived. Roger was the first to speak.

"Another guest? Were we expecting more people...?" Roger glanced inquiringly about to the general assembly, which consisted of the Old Man and his granddaughter, Estelle, the reserved and beautiful Mili K'Vik and a strange little fellow, Mirko Spendrim, whom Roger had noted that since his arrival had been battling back the onslaught of tears.

"Oh great" Estelle lamented upon seeing Cyrus and flopped herself wearily into a chair, one hand pressing to her forehead. One by one, the gathered company turned curiously to Haman, none of them sure whether to welcome him in or have him removed.

"Who's this?" barked the Old Man pinning Cyrus with a cold glare.

Mirko groaned.

By way of answer, the bulky doorman offered, "Apparently, he also is looking for Mister Kazaar"

[Cyrus Haman]

Haman had a very weaselly-like smile. He always liked it whenever he came in on a big meeting. Could always mean extra credits in his pocket. He sure wasn't expecting to see Jason 'The Elder' Russard sitting there, but that just made it even more interesting. Didn't realize Spendrim was this connected.

"Mr. Russard, I'm Cyrus Haman." He offered a hand which Russard just looked at, then gave him a firm handshake. "I know a guy, who knows a guy (Alastair Folk) who says he's done business with you. Nice to finally meet you."

Haman took a seat next to the black-haired woman. She was quiet, but that probably meant she was a terror in the bedroom. Haman's smile got broader just thinking about it.

"But yeah, I can't find Kazaar. He owes me 150 creds for a job. Any of you guys seen him?"

[Estelle Russard]

"He's been kidnapped!" Mirko blurted out dramatically, to which all in the room shifted uncomfortably, with the exception of Mili.

"We dont know that" cautioned Roger kindly for Mirko's sake, "but Mr Kazaar has not been heard from in quite some time and we are...concerned"

"Concerned?" The Old Man scoffed brusquely, "He's supposed to be protecting my daughter and the ruffian cant even look after himself!"
Jason the Elder found it easier to gruff his way through an upsetting event - he was fond of Kazaar, but damned if he was going to wail about the man's abduction like the merry widow over there. Better to take an offensive stance. Get mad at everyone, that always helped.

"Yes, well" Roger side-stepped the Old Man's ire, "When did you last see Aurelias, Mr Haman?"

"It was that Sith" Estelle usurped the floor, speaking largely to Mili and doing her best to ignore Haman's idiotic dress sense. "I've just got this feeling about it."

[Cyrus Haman]

Haman gave a sly smile. He smelled creds. "I might know a guy who knows a guy. What Mirko you haven't heard anything? Losing your touch?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal stared at Cyrus while he taunted Mirko. While she did not like Mirko (who did?) she found Cyrus especially odious. She felt Mirko's google-eyes stir in the process of calculating a rebuke. Mili's patience faltered first.

"If there is information, name the price or leave." Mili had been almost warm to Estelle and her family and gentle enough with Mirko in an attempt to parse together the details of his disappearance, but her patience had reached an abrupt end. Her voice was cold like the dark side of a distant, atmosphere-less planet in a dwarf star system. Haman was filled with a sense of oncoming dread.

Haman could do this the easy, profitable way or she could shred his mind in search of useful information.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Good one, Birdie, Mirko cheered to himself.

He was pleased that the dark-haired beauty had put that little weasle, Haman, in his place, but was immediately saddened as he realised he'd thought of her using Kazaar's nickname for her. Where could he be, he lamented inwardly. Sure, Aurelias had a lot of enemies and had piqued off more than his fair share of low-life scum in his time, but he'd always come out of things ok - better off, even. But Spendrim had a very bad feeling about this.

"No one knows anything" Mirko supplied belatedly, "or if they do, they aren't willing to tell"

He shuffled across the room to worry over a plate of snacks the Russard staff had put out for the company and, shifting from foot to foot momentarily, moved away from it empty handed. He was too worried to eat.

[Old Man Russard]

If he had the chance, Jason would have suggested Mili not to open with such a generously open-handed offer toward this new interloper, this.. Haman. Deals were better made if the one party did not comprehend how desperate the other party was. However, the air of menace K'Vik was palpably generating the little man's way balanced things out nicely. If Haman was smart, he wouldn't push his luck.

The Old Man swirled his scotch slowly in its glass, watching keenly.

[Cyrus Haman]

Haman was surprised at the dread that filled him. He was skeeved out. This is new...I haven't felt this since the first time I met Hera.

Then it turned him on.

He loved Force Users. Especially Darksiders. Which Milivikal had to have been. Wonder how she is in the sack...Bet she makes Zeltrons look like they were bored.

"My price..." He smiled weaselly. "The 150 creds Kazaar owes me...And a date with you, Ms. Raven-hair."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili did not react at all. She slowly glanced at Estelle, who had blinked. Mili did not want to venture on a date this slug of a man, but if he had information...

She turned her gaze back to Haman.

Make a counter-offer? She asked Estelle, her lips still, her voice unheard to anyone else.

[Estelle Russard]

Mili, tell him to give us the information or you'll beat him to a bloody pulp.

Estelle was clearly in no negotiating mood and putting Mili through such an ordeal as a night out with Cyrus Haman was more than any friend could ask. She mouthed her reply behind her open palm so that Mili, with her unique gift, was the only one who heard it. Russard could see her partner shift subtly in her body posture - k'Vik had received the response loud and clear and was about to convey as much.

However, Estelle suddenly visualised a more effective tactic, playing off Haman's hungry ego for a solution that would not leave Mili to endure such a fate alone. Offer instead a double date, you and I will both go...as long as he gives us something solid that's useable..

[Cyrus Haman]

"Tell ya what." The smile on Haman's face hadn't disappeared. He got up and slid next to Milivikal, placing one of his hands around her shoulders. Milivikal didn't move.

"I'll give you part of the same information I sold Kazaar. He went to Kuat. He wasn't looking for a Sith."

Haman turned to the raven-haired Force user. "You like Kuat? I know a guy who can get us into Tekshar Falls (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tekshar_Falls) for free...Luxury suite too...

"Up for that?"

[Old Man Russard]

With a signal as simple as a look from the Old Man, the large doorman closed the distance between himself and Cyrus in two quick strides, lifing Haman's fingers from Mili's shoulder and twisting them to deftly pull the attached arm up painfully behind his back. Before he could squall his protest, Haman felt the slap of the doorman's meaty palm against his shoulders as his face was driven down into the hors D'oeuvres platter.

"You want to try telling us all you know instead?" the Old Man suggested thinly.

[Cyrus Haman]

Haman shrugged, trying not to let his mouth get choked with the gooey eggs. The smell got into his nostrils but it hadn't overwhelmed him yet. Haman also smelled credits. They're desperate.

The greedy information dealer put two of his left fingers together with his thumb and rubbed them to indicate what he was looking for.

"I want creds first Mister Russard. Kazaar owes me 150. I told you he was on Kuat. Might be now...might not be.

"It's strictly business. One-fifty or it gets doubled, then tripled."

He gave a rat-like smile. "Maybe Gorgja will pay more."

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Somewhere:

"--eds to die so--!"

"--t yet. I ha-- -- for him."

Wasn't th'peeps threatenin' t'take him out that woke Aurelias Kazaar up but th'smell o'burned flesh. Had o'pretty unique smell ya could never describe. But the ex-bounty hunter knew someone's fleshed been scorched an' had o'pretty frackin' good idea who's it was.

He shifted on th'table he was laying face up on an' strained 'is ears. Had t'figure out where in th'blue hell he was and who th'frack had 'im. Guy anna dame. Dame seemed t'wanna keep 'im alive, while the guy wanted 'im dead.

"I told you before how dangerous he was. Let me kill him. You'll thank me later." No surprise it was Arkady who was speakin' pretty pointedly. Fracker'd survived his encounter with th'Sith Twi'lek 'parently.

Shiver went down Kazaar's spine as he recognized th'next voice. "I want him alive. He...interests me." Sultry with o'hint of sweetness.

Th'Force-damned Sith. Frack'n double frack.

Sure as shit didn't wanna find out how th'frack much her "interest" was for 'im.

Kazaar forced 'is eyes open. Well one o'them anyway. Other black-colored eye was swollen shut. Meant whoever frackin' jumped 'im on Kuat'd had a helluva lotta fun beatin' the piss outta 'im. Body hurt like hell too. Felt like he was trying t'wake up from o'horrific nightmare so who knew how long he'd been frackin' unconscious.

Seemed like he was in some kinda warehouse too. Pretty dark but some kinda droid makin' machinery near 'im. Considerin' how Kuat was known for makin' a buncha starships, meant he could be anywhere. Which sure as hell didn't help.

No t'focus on that...had t'move. Kazaar rolled off th'table, landin' with o'small *plop*. Paused an' listened but Sithy and Arkady were too busy arguin' on whether they oughta kill 'im or not to noice. Which helped.

'Specially if he was gonna sneak up on 'im and take 'em out. Or die trying.

Kazaar half-crawled/half-dragged 'imself across the floor towards their voices. Sure seemed like Sithy was winnin'. Hell...her words were frackin' scary.

"He has a better scent of the dark side than you do, Cesar." Sithy's voice was sultry an' silky at the same time. "He's been around far, far more of them than you. And my holocron tells me one of the scents is familiar."

Arkady didn't seem real frackin' impressed. "Who the hell cares who he's been around. He's an asshole who likes frackin' my plans up 'bout as much as he likes sucking on cigars and guzzling booze.

"Why the frell would you want him?"

Kazaar felt 'nother chill go down his spine. "His mind seems...intoxicating"

Had to kill 'em both now. He was near 'em too. They were by another table standin' face to face. Couldn't see Arkady's face, but the Sith's was locked inna...dunno...frackin' mask which seemed t'almost draw 'im in while horrfyin' him at th'same time.

Kazaar'd never really seen o'Twi'lek as fracked up as this. An' he'd seen o'fracking lotta 'em.

Launched 'imself one legged at both Arkady an' the Sith. Bastard didn't seem 'im coming and went down.

The Sith...well she moved. Just o'step, but 'nough for Kazaar t'miss her entirely. His body felt like o'buncha pinpricks of pain as he slammed into th'ground. Saw stars, then Arkady. He was tryin' to get to 'is feet. Kazaar rabbit punched 'im twice. Then reached for the small blaster he saw Arkady's jacket.

Blue light suddenly poured over both o'em. Wasn't light...but frackin' lightning. Sith lightning.

The dose that hit Arkady basically just knocked 'im away from Kazaar. Pretty obvious Sithy wanted 'im to feel it (just to let 'im know how much she was in charge).

Rest o'it was directed at Kazaar. He smelled scorched flesh 'gain, saw o'dame's face mixed with murder an' pleasure starin' down at 'im.

An' passed the frack out.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili smiled thinly. The elder Russard was in no mood for Cyrus's games. She had planned to string him along some before putting her foot down.

"I think he means that Kazaar will be able to complete your agreement after he is no longer missing."

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko marvelled at Haman's audacity to keep demanding his price. Like a dog with a bone, thought Spendrim. A bald, greedy, creepy dog. Who had pate' on his face.

Mirko shuffled himself in between the company to finally arrive standing beside Mili. Roger gave him a funny look, but that was probably Roger just doing math in his head, or something.

Wow k'Vik was somethin'. A classic. Sleek, timeless, unobtainable. She took his breath away just being in the same room as her. She gave Mirko a funny look, too, which made him recalibrate the personal space rule and take a step back from her.

"What about Akady?" Spendrim questioned the room in general, looking from one face to another before adressing Haman directly, "Does Kazaar going to Kuat have something to do with Akady?"

[Cyrus Haman]

"Nothing more until I get my creds." Haman leered at Milivikal. "You've got contacts Spendrim why don't you ask them."

[Old Man Russard]

"Arkady?" Jason barked.

The doorman caught the Old Man's eye momentarily and, begrudginly, Jason gave a half-shrug - his consent to pull Cyrus out of the appetizers - yet not to release him. The big fellow held onto Haman in a rougher fashion than was necessary.

"You'll get your credits owed" the Old Man continued, glaring at Haman, "as long as you bide your manners in my home and to my family. Now tell me, how does Kazaar know Cesare Arkady?"

[Estelle Russard]

And how do you know Cesare Arkady, Grandfather?

Estelle was constantly discovering previously unknown connections her grandfather had and it was a little unnerving to think of him in any other setting than she had always known him in - her loving Grandpa. Everyone had a past. Why should that alarm her about The Old Man?

She flicked a guarded look to Mili and wondered what the Jedi was thinking.

[Cyrus Haman]

"The two worked together a while ago." Haman's attempt to shrug wasn't easy, not with the doorman holding him like he was. "Not like he and Ashley, but Arkady and Kazaar did a few jobs. Went after some spice dealers, actually robbed a couple of corrupt businessmen...couple Baron Administrators on Cloud City.'

He smiled, which looked rather strange with the gooey mixture all over the right side of his face. "All went sour after Arkady decided to kill a woman and her unborn child. Ya know how Kazaar is around women. Arkady called Kazaar 'Brutus' after that...

"Now that I think about it...I think Arkady had a crush on some gal, Kazaar was boning. Adel-something-or-other. Never met her, but hear she was a looker."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal nodded slowly. The facts lined up with her knowledge of Kazaar, who was a private person. A credit chit was slapped onto the table, the sound was much louder for Cyrus than it should have been.

"But where is he?"

[Cyrus Haman]

So she can enhance sounds... Haman leered to himself. He couldn't help his next question.

"Can ya enhance other things, babe? I knew a Forcer named (frell what was her name...Adia?) who could make ya 'sensations' even that much more fun.

"Especially with binders."

Haman's laugh was fit his face. Rat-like.

[Estelle Russard]

"Ugh, we are wasting time with this idiot"

Estelle stood up, the urge to stamp her foot in frustration barely kept in check. Times like these she wish she had her gun.

"Lawrence, throw him out"

[Cyrus Haman]

"Awright. Awright." Haman snarled desperately. "I sent him to a warehouse near the Kuat Drove Yards.

"Arkady uses it to sell spice to the workers as they come off shift."

He shrugged. "I know a guy, who knows a guy who buys from him. Said Arkady was there a week ago. That's all I frelling know! If Kazaar got his ass snatched that's his fault."

Haman wrenched himself free from Lawrence. "Can I have my damned creds?"

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle got up in Haman's face.

"Throw him out"

[Cyrus Haman]

"Wait...wait...wait!" Haman was being led out of the Russard estate faster than he'd ever been let out of anywhere before. Faster than when that one Senator (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Padme) wanted him to get out of her hotel because her Jedi boyfriend was coming.

"What about my creds?!? I want my frelling creds!"

Lawrence essentially threw him out the door. "We'll put it in your account."

"But you don't have my account!" Haman yelled as the door was slammed in his face.

Shit...what a bunch of headcases. Almost as bad as Kazaar himself. Bastard's rubbing off on everyone he meets.

It'd started to rain even harder and Haman tried to pull his jacket up over his ears. He couldn't help but wonder where the hell Kazaar was anyway.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Cyrus walked away from the door, and the rain poured down. He could not hear the door re-open over the loud patter of water droplets against metal and duracrete. He did not notice the subtle distortion of light.

What he did noticed is the smack against the back of his head.

A credit chit clattered against the duracrete walkway after the initial impact.

It wasn't worth 150 credits. Merely 50. He would have to wait for the rest, if Kazaar was still alive.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko felt very satisfied that Haman had been tossed. He had thought Cyrus was one of Kazaar's friends and only being willing to sell what information he had to help them was slimey to the ninth degree. What a little rat.

However, there were a lot of wharehouses on Kuat, the drove yards being the mecca. When Mili returned to the room, he wondered. "Maybe we shoulda asked Haman which warehouse before, (Mirko made a tossing motion with his hands, accompanied by a breathy whistle).. y'know...boosh?"

[Old Man Russard]

The Old Man thought about that.
"He probably knows more than what he's told us" he said after a moment.

"Who cares?" Estelle volleyed back to her grandfather, still angry. "He's probably just lying as it is anyway. I'd trust him as far as I could punt his bumpy little head across a smash-ball feild."

"He was pretty vague about that warehouse" offered Roger, who until now had remained passive in the discussion since Haman's arrival.

"Hmm" the Old Man reflected. "I know his type well. Their helpfulness and honesty rises in direct ratio to the promise of credits"

"Or the promise of personal physical harm" gruffed Lawrence, who rubbed his knuckles together like he was grinding a walnut, a little self-conscious at speaking up.

"...Or personal physical harm" the Old Man agreed, nodding to the huge doorman.

Estelle looked at her grandfather, alarm bells starting to go off in her head. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"What's he thinking?" Mirko pressed Mili.

Estelle fickered a glance to Mili and back to her grandfather, "No, absolutely not" her voice was chill.

"He would know the right people to ask once there, he may even recognize Arkady's contacts or spice buyers" Suddenly, Roger had lots to say.

"Its a good idea" the Old Man placated. "You will have no problem with him, Elle. We want Kazaar back, and this is the way to do it"

"By lining that vermin's pockets?" His granddaughter was close to tears, he saw. This is not about Haman, this is the frustration of things being out of her control. Jason understood the emotion, though he rarely experienced it himself. In times past, just as now, the Old Man read the situation and made the unemotional decision that would bring them the greatest chance of success.

"Lawrence, get Haman back in here"

[Cyrus Haman]

"Look babe, I wasn't expecting that meeting to take so long." Haman had ducked into a small tapcafe to get out of the downpour. The 50-cred chit was enough to buy a drink and a meal, but he wasn't hungry.

"Now don't be like that, I thought you loved 'Where in the city is Haman Hiding?'" One of the servers looked at him and he shrugged. The way the human with violently purple hair was starting, she was up for the game Haman liked. And in that teeny little bi-kini ya wearing.

He turned towards the entrance to the tapcafe and suddenly stopped as Lawrence burst in, took a look around and made a beeline for him. "Look babe, I'll call ya back."

Five Minutes Later

"First ya don't want me, now ya want me." The info-broker was wiping his face with a towel.

"Creezus Russard I thought ya were decisive than that. This is gonna cost ya.""

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Somewhere

Kazaar was leanin' back in 'is chair, cigar smoke wafting from 'is mouth. Nice frackin' feeling, being able t'sit back with o'bottle of bourbon and relax. Sure as hell beat running 'round killing Imps and other scumbags who didn't deserve th'air they were suckin' down.

He blew out smoke again, this time inna few rings. Sure as hell felt pretty frackin' good. Cabin on the side o'Brentaal's northern mountain chain was pretty frackin' good too. Got left 'lone for th'most part, spending his days huntin' f'food an' the rest hiking. Estelle an' Ash'd come by f'days atta time. Hell, even Delly made o'visit or two.

Nice time t'sit back an'...Last images made Kazaar sit up in th'chair. Ashley'd been dead f'years an' he hadn't frackin' seen Delly in ages. Hell...it'd been o'week since he'd been in contact with th'Kid. Ever since he'd gone t'Kuat to track that mynock-lovin' freak Arkady down.

So why'n the blue nerf was he on Brentaal...inna cabin he didn't...

I knew I could get in...

He suddenly found 'imself being ripped outta the cabin an' away from the fantasy all at once.

That's all it'd frackin' been anyway...o'Force-damned frackin' fantasy. Brought on by some Sith bitch who'd decided t'frack with 'is mind.

Next words, which he was still hearin' in his frackin' mind made 'im shiver.

I'm not done...fracking...with you yet.

He opened 'is workin' black eye an' stared at the Twi'lek Sith in front o'him. Kazaar was still in th'fracking warehouse, where in the blue frack they were (didn't sound like Kuat anymore). Helluva lot more animal sounds.

The Twi'lek was wearin' brown leather, which let 'er curves show but also didn't show too much. Two piece yeh an' her top was maybe zipped down just o'little too much, but it wasn't slutty. Hell, slightly alluring...

If it wasn't o'fracking Sith who'd had 'im kidnapped.

She just stared at him, like she was tryin' to figure out who he was.

"Woulda dressed up for ya." Kazaar almost spat as he noticed 'is arms were chained. "But wasn't expectin' to be o'guest.

"Wanna tell me why th'frack I'm 'ere."

The Twi'lek's voice was throaty an' she crossed one leg over th'other. Her blue feet were barefoot. "I had a...tough time getting into your mind. You have mental blocks I would almost expect someone like me to have.

"You do an excellent job letting strong emotions build a solid wall around you." She gave o'smile which Kazaar was pretty frackin' sure was laced wit' madness o'some kind.

Th'Sith closed 'er eyes an' looked...well Kazaar wasn't exactly sure how th'frack she looked. Almost like she was tastin' his emotions or some goofy-ass crap like that.

Frackin' hate FU's.

That got o'smile from th'Sith. "You have...much anger in you. It swirls around you like a storm."

"The frack do ya give o'shit 'bout that." Tough t'scowl with only one workin' eye but Kazaar some how managed it.

"Because..." 'Nother mad smile. "It shows the monster beneath you."

That earned o'snort. "Sure I gotta monster...what's it to ya? Wanna turn me inta o'Sith or somethin'? Sorry lady...got no frackin' chance at that. Got born without th'Force gene or whatever the hell it is."

Sithy shook 'er head. Kazaar couldn't help but notice 'er head tails were free. Most Twi'leks liked keepin' 'em in o'headdress of some kind. This one liked t'be able to keep 'em loose.

"No. You'll never be a Sith. But I'm not interested in that." She took o'sip outta some kinda tea cup, then another. "Why do you spend your time with those who aren't like you?"

"Th'frack ya talkin' 'bout..." Gettin' kinda tired o'the psychoanalyzing. Kazaar hated the damn thing an' this was startin' to piss 'im off even more.

"You are constantly around those who want to temper you." Sith raised a hand like she was talkin' 'bout the weather. "Domesticate you. Pretend you're something you aren't."

She smiled an' took two steps towards him. "I know you've tortured people. Ripped skin off when no resistance was offered. Gouged out eyes. Slit ears and tongues. Cut off limbs."

Leaned down 'gainst his ear. "You're more rebellious to yourself than to any one authority.

"You're a monster."

Wasn't easy t'smirk when ya face was all fracked up from gettin' beaten. "Lady...ya know shit 'bout me. Now get th'frack outta 'ere before ya prattlin' put me to sleep."

That sure as hell didn't go over well. 'Specially when the Sith sent 'nother round o'Force lightning through 'is body. Hurt like hell an' was starting t'get frackin' annoying.

'Specially the passing out part...

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

*SMACK*

Somethin' hit Kazaar in th'head. Felt like o'frackin' pebble, but he wasn't sure.

*SMACK* *SMACK*

'Nother two pebble shots. Then o'voice from somewhere.

"Mom! I wanna see it move!"

It was o'frackin' kid. A kid!

Th'hell was going on...

He opened o'eye an' saw he wasn't in the warehouse anymore. He was outside somewhere.

In o'cage. Surrouned by o'buncha kids pointin' at 'im and staring.

The hell was goin' on?

And it was hot too. Felt like some kinda warm blanket'd been thrown on 'im. Head felt pretty frackin' heavy too. And hurt on both sides o'his temples.

"Ronny! Don't do that!" Kid's mom yelled an' tried to push the boy away. "Don't bother the wampa."

Wampa?!?

Kazaar raised a hand t'scratch his head an' stopped in shock.

It was covered inna white fur. Large claws came outta 'is fingers an' his palm was black an' padded.

"What the FRACK!?!" 'Least that's what he tried t'say. Instead it came out like o'frackin' roar an' looked like more than o'few people jumped.

Kazaar stared at th'rest o'his body an' felt fear start t'take over.

He'd been turned into o'fracking wampa.

[Old Man Russard]

Looking over the desk at the rumpled individual across from him, Jason Russard wondered what it was like to be Cyrus Haman. Not very enjoyable, he decided. Furtive little eyes roved incessantly over his surroundings - looking perhaps for new opportunities or new advantages to exploit and add leverage to his own cause. Every word that came out of the scoundrel's mouth was angled to gain him a higher price for his cooperation. Jason doubted Haman understood anything but the most primal instinct of self-preservation. Which, as far as instincts go, was a good one to have and could be useful to their purpose.

"You were picked on alot in high school, weren't you?" the Old Man asked, pouring Haman a generous scotch.

They were alone, except for Roger who sat unobtrusively to one corner of the Old Man's study. Gone were the ladies, who Jason did not want to subject further to Haman's gross manners. Gone, too, was Mirko who was absent, well, for the same reasons. Spendrim was more sensitive than his granddaughter and the Jedi put together, Jason found. And Lawrence was not required at present and so was back to doing his other duties.

"Little man syndrome, I think they call it" Russard poked, nudging the glass politely toward Haman.

[Cyrus Haman]

"I got by." Haman took a small sip of scotch. It was bitter and burned going down. But Haman still drank it. "Jocks might take a swing at times but when you're the one giving 'em spice and stims...

"Man's gotta make a living." He looked around Russard's study. It was full of trinkets and treasurers from a very successful business career. Most of the treasures Haman had on his ship The Switch were mementos from the women he'd slept with. And a nice computer.

"We can't all live like this." His weasel smile was pronounced and had a twinge of nervouness to it. "So why did you bring me back?"

[Old Man Russard]

"We think you're a liar"

The Old Man washed down the statement with a gulp from his glass.

"Well, the ladies mostly" he quantified. "Seems you haven't gained their trust with all that withholding information sans credits routine. I understand how things work, however. And I also give you a little more credit than they do"

Jason's tactic was easily readable. Flattery, cajoling, a play to the ego. It was not a new routine, but it is how the game is played. Haman knew it as much as the Old Man did.

"I think you know a little bit more than you've let on" Jason indulged in a half-smile. "So, you'll be taking us to this warehouse you mentioned."

[Cyrus Haman]

"If, and I'm saying if 'cause we all know it goes, I do this. I want creds." Haman was being honest. Far as he was concerned this was a business arrangement.

"Also...I want to be the first one you go to for information on your competitors."

[Old Man Russard]

It was no surprise, the demand for credits. That had been a given. Yet Haman being so enterprising as to wedge himself into place of chief informant was...amusing. The Old Man was tickled, despite being repulsed by the thought of further communications with this self-styled weasel.

"Alright" Jason agreed, "but I will warn you - one misstep on your part, one lie or deception against me or mine and you will disappear - and I assure you, disappear as in permanently.."

"Oh, and painfully" Roger added from his corner of the room, as if reminding his employer of a bullet-point on his stenopad.

"Oh yes" the Old Man topped up Haman's glass, "Quite painfully."

[Cyrus Haman]

"As long as it's a chick who offs me, I don't care." Haman smiled.

"It wouldn't." The Old Man answered. "I'd have Lawrence do it."

Haman muttered an oath under his breath. "Far as I know, Kazaar's really at the Drive Yards. A warehouse named 'Formar's Appliances.' I can give ya the address."

Roger spoke up. "I believe the terms of the agreement were credits in exchange for you escorting us there."

Worth a shot. "All right." He grinned and hoped Russard realized he was 'just offering. "I'll escort ya there. It's not real chair-friendly."

He saw Roger and Russard exchange glances. "I'm only saying! Ya'd need a nurse or something to take ya."

[Old Man Russard]

"You needn't worry about me"

The Old Man wouldn't be going, and that truth eventually found purchase in Haman's understanding.

"You'll be taking my granddaughter and her friend Mili. And that Spendrim fellow." Mirko had been adament about tagging along despite all attempt at logical persuasions to the contrary. Kazaar was his friend too, didn't we know?

"And Lawrence will be taking you" Roger supplied with weighted meaning.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Fortunately for Mili, the craft Russard had provided would seat several more people than it did. In an act of unusual pettiness, Mili had silenced Cyrus entirely. It wasn't unjustified, of course. He had made another pass at her, and until they were closer to Kuat, she didn't see any reason to let him talk. Lawrence was amused.

The light freighter was a legitimate registered ship with legitimate registered cargo, on a planned, registered route to Kuat, only the crew was given a paid week off.

"Cyrus is normally this disruptive, no?" Milivikal asked Estelle.

"Yeah." Mirko confirmed. The strange man seemed desperate for attention at all times. Her attention, especially. Even with Mili's blunted sense of smell, Mirko was a bit off. He had odd posture, a lazy eye and a startling lack of interpersonal skills. But at least he wasn't stupid, creepy and prone to jackassery. Weird, yes. Mirko was weird, but well intentioned.

No, jackassery was Haman's specialty. He couldn't hear himself speak, and it visibly annoyed him. Mili shot him a fake frown, and turned back to Estelle.

"Mmm. Most useful I've been thus far, ensuring Haman's silence." Mili stated in her song-like patter.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Somewhere


Kazaar wasn't th'kinda guy t'always admit to fear. Sure he'd felt it after o'long night of drinking or recoverin' from getting shot. Didn't happen that often 'cause Kazaar didn't talk 'bout this feelings that much. Just wasn't that type o'guy.

But he was scared t'death now. Scared outta 'is frackin' wits. Made no frackin' sense. Gettin' poked at by children sure as hell wasn't his idea o'fun. Had to get out...get the frack out an' try to figure out what happened. How he'd gotten turned into o'Force-damned frackin' wampa and caged. He stared up at th'cage's roof an' snarled.

Frackin' hell. Damned thing looked pretty strong. An' Kazaar didn't know o'lick 'bout wampa anatomy save for how if ya cut off an' arm they hated it. An' avoid th'pointy teeth an' claws. But that was o'frackin' given.

He paced 'round the cramped cage, trying to figure out what to do next. Mind was racin' too. Had t'figure out what happened...why he was here an' not outside the bars.

Couldn't help it, but part o'his brain was telling him this was reality. That he'd always been like this: behind bars and o'monster. Gotten taken from Hoth as o'baby an' brought to the zoo. Wherever th'frack it was. Pretty much said he was t'enjoy 'is time here 'cause there was nothing else for 'im. Never get t'know freedom, especially 'cause there weren't o'lotta people who gave o'good Force-damn 'bout his plight. Naw...more cared 'bout freeing Tautauns an' Gizkas. The cute an' cuddly animals ('cause Tauntauns smelled like crap but who gave o'damn 'bout that).

He shook 'is horned head trying t'clear it. Horns an' shaggy fur didn't help. But Kazaar had o'damn good feeling if he didn't get th'frack outta this...cell he'd never get out. Just had to get th'frack out.

Kazaar swung o'paw towards th'cage bars. They *clanged* off an' didn't make o'ton of damage. Second swing didn't do o'damn thing either. Kazaar just growled an' tried to figure out what th'hell t'do next. If he was human-sized he woulda just slammed his shoulder into it o'few times but was too frackin' big.

Or was he?

Kazaar lurched back on all fours as much as he, then lunged forward. With o'*crash* the cage bars splintered 'causing the very large wampa/Kazaar t'fall out onto the durasteel streets.

A scream went out from o'woman as Kazaar got up on all fours an' started making a dash for somewhere...anywhere...where he could get the frack out.

Made it about 500 yards when he heard o'shout. Buncha stormtroopers sudden started running towards 'im, their weapons already spewing blaster bolts. Some o'em struck Kazaar in the forelegs 'causing him to howl in pain. He swung his long paws, rippin' the armor off one o'the skull-faced bastards while the rest of kept coming.

Kazaar roared an' attacked, not caring whether they killed him or not. His clawed paws an' strong legs were heavy...felt like he was swingin' a heavy axe. Swung too hard on o'couple swipes but was mostly able t'take out the stormtroopers without o'problem.

In fact, it started to feel pretty fracking good. Kazaar felt pretty comfortable slicin' and dicin' into the stormtroopers. Pulling arms off their bodies without worrying how they'd feel. Evisceratin' when he had too an' once even throwing one of the stormtroopers into a wall face first. Guy hit with a *splat* and didn't look like he was gonna get up.

It was the best Kazaar'd felt inna while. Hell, felt natural when Kazaar/Wampa decided to take a bite outta one of the stormtrooper's bodies to sate his hunger. Usin' his teeth to crunch bones an' chew the stormtrooper's arm like it was a nerf steak? Completely frackin' normal. If Kazaar'd even thought 'bout it, he probably woulda gotta scared t'frackin death. But right now...didn't give o'frackin damn.

He was chowing down onna 'nother stormtrooper when he saw the figure standing onna stairwell above 'im. It was hooded an' was holding a cylindrical object which emitted o'long yellow-orange blade. A lightsaber.

Frackin' Force User decided to get in on th'action.

The figure leaped in th'air, hardly even giving Kazaar a chance to react an' plunged the saber towards his head. Missed but Kazaar felt heat as the blade came close to one of his horns. He backhanded the Force User, sending them spinning away, but they someone stayed on their feet.

Fracker was fast. Real fast.

Came at him again, this time at a speed Kazaar could hardly keep up with. Part o'his brain noted it was o'helluva lot like what Mili'd done before, but he was too busy tryin' to stay alive to let it catch. Just wanted to survive.

The Force User swung the blade again, searing a patch of fur on Kazaar's left shoulder. It caused Kazaar t'rear up to his height o'three meters an' swing down with his left paw.

His target simply swung th'lightsaber lightly an' cut off his left arm.

The shock 'caused Kazaar t'go berserk. He lunged at th'Force User quicker than he thought he would an'shoulder blocked 'em to the ground, the saber sliding away. The figure scrambled to its feet as fast as it could, but couldn't avoid Kazaar's right paw as it sliced into its midsection an' went up.

The Force User went flying. 'Least nine meters before slamming into the ground. Hard. The hood slipped off her head and Kazaar caught a glimpse of wavy, blonde hair.

No...NO!

He started racin' forward, not even caring if any stormtrooper caught up to him and shot him point blank in th'head.

He just had one thing gon' through is mind..."Ashley!"

Kazaar didn't even notice he'd turned back into o'human. Hell didn't even see his left arm had regrown.

He knelt down besides his old partner an' lover. Tried to reach under her body to carry her but got too worried 'bout her entrails spillin' all over the place. Sure as hell didn't want that to happen.

Kazaar just held her head lightly an' felt tears in his eyes... "Ash...Ash...I'm so sorry. So frackin' sorry."

"You killed me." She just kept sayin' over an' over, as if she couldn't hear what he was sayin'. "You killed me. You killed me. You killed me.Youkilledme.Youkilledme.Youkilledme....

Ash went on like this f'what seemed like an eternity. Had o'dying smile on 'er face too. But if the life was bein' taken outta 'er, it was draining slowly.

Kazaar just stroked 'er blonde hair. "I'm sorry Ash...didn't know it was you..."

Her eyes finally came into focus an' she coughed up some blood. "No...you killed me....years ago..."

He was taken aback an' almost dropped 'er. Th'frack was she talkin' about? "You mean with th'serial killer? The hell...ya ran off...drugged me..."

"No..." More coughin'. "You killed me *cough* by not letting me go...by not...helping..."

Kazaar just stared, as Ash let o'fit of coughs take over. "Don't you...see...you...should...have...offered...to...h elp...not...play....big...brother..."

Her face turned into o'look of contempt. "You bastard...never...should...have..."

Then she died...again.

An' again, Kazaar couldn't do o'damn thing 'bout it. Just held Ash's body forra while.

Kazaar blinked, then almost dropped Ash when he realized he was just starin' atta rotten corpse which'd obviously been dead forra while. He watched as th'corpsed turned t'dust before his eyes then disappeared.

'Bout that time he realized th'entire fracking zoo was gone and he was by himself inna dark...space. Couldn't see o'damn thing 'round except for an old fashioned door. The kind ya hafta turn a knob to get in. Kazaar got up, put 'is hand on the doorknob, opened it and stepped into o'bright light.

[Estelle Russard]

"You're a god-send" Estelle smiled back to Mili, relieved to be free of Haman's obnoxious remarks for a while. He was such a little creep. Estelle considered herself a patient and tolerant person for the most part, but Cyrus Haman managed to not only press every button she had, but thump on them repeatedly until he was in very real danger of grievous bodily harm.

"I dont really know how Aurelias stands him, myself" she remarked to Mili, speaking as if Haman wasn't even there. Mirko gave a hearty shrug of his shoulders in agreement - vindication at last, he seemed to say.

"And he's so...so..."

"Short?" Mili offered to Estelle, and Mirko dropped a little of his smugness. "Bald? Smelly?" It seemed the Jedi had no end of expressive adjectives to hand, "Disagreeable? Repugnant? Unnn-savory?"

Estelle chuckled, "Something like that." She zeroed a look at Haman who was taking in all the insults as if he expected nothing less - revelled in it even - a repulsive little grin on his repulsive little face, keeping his enforced silence. "As long as he proves useful, I am willing to overlook all his shortcomings" Estelle acceeded.

Mirko laughed at that, he liked puns. Saw them everywhere and they delighted him.

"Mirko!" Lawrence bellowed, making the little man jump. "Where's supper?"

It was Spendrim's job to be cook. That was the condition by which the Russards had allowed him to come, he knew. He had to be of use, otherwise they would eject him into space. The little information broker pulled his gaze reluctantly from Mili and moved off to the small galley to prepare something to eat. Truth to tell, Mirko liked to cook.

Estelle moved to sit over beside Mili, all humor gone from her eyes as she looked at her partner, "What do you really think, Mili? Will we find Aurelias on Kuat?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili frowned. Her powers of foresight were not weak, but they were not reliable and she had grown to distrust them over the years as a means to results. Those abilities never out and out lied either, but she received simple answers to complicated questions and complicated answers to simple questions. It was imperfect at best, and confusing at worst. There were concrete things: Kuat was important in relation to Kazaar.

Mili's blue eyes grew distant, and it was clear to Estelle that her mind was not focused on what was around her

Through the Force the information came in disjointed auditory messages and sounds, sometimes sights and feelings. He could hear his ragged breath in a warehouse, the rumble of cargo speeders. His fear (terror?) and confusion was there too, but nothing was clear. He stank of sweat and stale nicotine.

"We shall find his trail. That I am sure of. Him? Perhaps. I can hear and smell things, but I know not, only that Kuat is part of his trail."

She dared not reach out further. If a Sith was truly involved, any element of surprise would be advantageous.

[Cyrus Haman]

This is getting boring. And old. Haman leaned his chin on his right hand. I don't even like Arkady. He never pays. I like Kazaar less, but 'least he pays up...most of the time.

It was all about the credits for the information broker after all. That and the sex. So many women out there willing to let their morals slide just a bit for help. A lot of them even found him attractive. He smiled to himself. Loose women were so fun...

Haman's enforced silence was annoyingly arousing. Too bad this raven-haired goddess, Mili, wasn't interested...The things I could do...

Instead Haman was forced to sit and listen to their boring banter. He finally sighed (soundlessly of course). He'd had enough. Much as he loved creds, he loved loved holding all the sabacc cards more. What's the point of holding out when no one was interested in hearing what he had to say.

The info broker grabbed a sheet of paper. 'Least I haven't been told I couldn't write. Which was good since he'd written a note for Milivikal earlier (asking if she wanted a 'visit' later), but hadn't given it to her. Her silencing him had kinda killed that plan of his.

"Arkady has three warehouses, near the Drive Yard." He wrote, not bothering to say Like I said earlier. "Northern end. No real security. I sent Kazaar there because a guy I know saw Arkady a week ago. If you ask Spendrim, he'll tell you Kazaar was looking for Arkady. Put out info request to Gorgja. The Hutt's second, Niinimaa, sent me a message. He knows I can deliver.

"Ask Spendrim. Maybe he got one."

Haman handed the sheet of paper to Lawrence. Guy like that had to know how to read. He looked at it, raised an eyebrow (c'mon read it!), then handed the paper to Estelle. She glanced down at it, then went to Milivikal.

He was hoping they'd believe him (since he was telling the truth). Anything to stop this damn torture.

[Estelle Russard]

"Then the warehouses are the place to start" Estelle said. "I suggest we go in unseen rather than try to pawn ourselves off as associates or buyers. If they lay eyes on our muted little scribe" she indicated Haman with barely a nod, "they'll know something is up immediately."

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko stepped from the galley and took the note Lawrence held out for him to read, being careful to wipe his fingers on his apron beforehand.

He shook his head after a moment of squinting and making a big show of the poor penmanship, "I didn't hear from Gorgja's man, but Haman's right - Kazaar did put it out that he was looking for Arkady. It makes sense that the Hutt turned him up, the Majestic Elegance has a far reach for such stumpy little fingers."

[Cyrus Haman]

"Yeah Gorgja's go-" Haman started to say only to scowl when nothing came out. C'mon gimme my voice back...

He was mildly surprised to hear Gorgja hadn't talked to Spendrim. Considering how the odd info broker had always been Kazaar's first point for information, seemed like the Hutt would have included him on it. Rumors of a split between Kazaar and Gorgja true? Have to follow up on it... Someone will pay for that.

Haman just sat there, bored that people were talking without involving him. He then yanked the paper out of Mirko's hands and started to write again.

"Gorgja has lot of contacts. Probably knew from start where Arkady was...

"Split up or go together?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Tired of Cyrus being clever with Mirko, Mili stalked over and read the paper. She snorted.

"We shall travel together." k'Vik stated. Cyrus found his voice again.

"This Sith is dangerous." She explained.

"I do not trust Haman as far as Spendrim could throw him." She stated, only Estelle could hear her.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle gave Mili a ghost of a smile, "Agreed" she replied, her answer blanketed by Mili's gift.

It was amusing to see how distasteful the Jedi found Haman, yet he appeared to thrive off of every slight or open insult Mili turned his way.

"Must you make all of them fall for you Mili?" she said with quiet humor, noticing that even Mirko, too, appeared to hang off her every breath.

Estelle's smile was soon replaced, however, by a shadow of apprehension. "Im concerned about the Sith. What would a force-user want with someone like Aurelias? What is the gain?"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Somewhere

Light blinded 'im, kept him from figuring out what th'frack was going on. Forra moment, felt like he was onna table, his limbs stretched out and his body racked by pain. Hurt like hell...now worse than that.

Frackin' burned. Throbbed too. Like someone was trying t'fracking dig through 'is skull. Rootin' 'round in there like o'snake chewing up 'is brain. Couldn't focus. Tried t'grab 'is head an' massage it, but Kazaar's limbs weren't working. Couldn't hear o'damn thing just th'pulsatin' *bah-boom* *bah-boom* o'his heat as the "snake" worked 'is way from one side o'his head to th'other. Finally started t'go away.

Once 'is eyes started working, the world had changed.

Found himself standing onna beach, lookin' out over blue, still waters. Stretched out forever like some kinda glass sheet. Nothin' moved. Sky 'bove him was blue too, no clouds, hell not even th'sun was visible. Just empty, pale blue sky.

Sand 'neath his feet was white an' flat. It stretched out forra while, then made o'right turn into a cove. Place was pretty frackin' familiar but Kazaar couldn't place it. Been here yeh...but damn thing was alien to 'im. Felt drawn towards th'cove though. Couldn't place it, but somethin' was telling him that was the way t'go.

Air was heavy an' salty. Hung 'round him like o'blanket, but was eerily calm. Waters weren't moving, no waves splashed up on th'beach. No birds flew in th'air an' no coin-crabs (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Coin-crab) with their pinchers scurried 'long the sand. No insects buzzed. Just empty.

Like the entire Force-damned place was holdin' its breath waiting for what was next.

Sand was easy t'walk on. Since no one'd been on the damn beach, it was pretty compact. Didn't hafta worry 'bout his feet slippin' at all. Sure made walkin' towards the cover o'helluva lot easier. Sand was so frackin' solid, Kazaar didn't leave any tracks on the beach.

Like that wasn't creepy as all hell.

Stared out over the waters an' the still beach. Place wasn't still...

It was fracking dead.

Still seemed familiar. Like he'd been 'ere but couldn't figure out where. At th'edge of his mind, but just outta his reach.

'Bout that time he saw the home.

It was perched atop the cove, like some kinda ancient two-storied sentinel. Its walls were made of wood colored o'dingy grey. Three windows in th'back, two on the side o'the house. No light was shinin' from 'em, so could be abandoned like the rest o'this fracking place. As he got closer, Kazaar started t'see the windows were covered in dust an' grime. Some o' the wood'd fallen away an' rotted. Back door was solid though, which Kazaar found o'bit strange. Stared up at th'two stone chimney which poked outta the green shingled roof. Needed repairs.

Hell, looked like the damn placed taken o'helluva beating but refused t'die. Place might've been pretty much, but now it was gnarled...sorrowful. Lonely.

'Bout that time he saw tracks in th'sand leading up to the home. Had t'walk up o'small path carved outta o'grass covered dune. Even that seemed off. Grass was brown an' dead. Just stickin' up towards the sky in clumps.

Kazaar woulda missed the hand if he hadn't stepped on it.

It was lying on th'edge of the path, like it'd just been tossed there by someone who didn't care if it was found or not. Bent down to take o'look at it. Hand'd been severed at th'wrist with o'pretty clean cut. Stench o'death hovered 'round it. Even if no one'd ever been 'round it, they knew how death smelled. Hand wasn't bloated, instead looked like th'blood been sucked outta it. Its fingers were long an' spindly in sharp contract to its well manicured nails. The flesh...was white. Not discolored but frackin' white.

Wasn't the frack he was starin' at Kimiiki Crei's hand that filled 'im with dread, but the fact at who killed (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=291997&postcount=19) the bastard. Hadn't been Kazaar.

'Bout that time Kazaar realized why th'house was familiar. (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=264388&postcount=20) Tore up th'rest of the path, not bothering t'see if the rest o'Kimiiki Crei's body was buried in th'sand.

Reached th'door an' was 'bout to slam o'shoulder into it, when it opened. House inside was as dead as the beach outside. Same stillness hung, but the saltiness was gone. An' whatever light filtered in was muted by th'dirty windows.

First thing Kazaar saw, was o'kid's toy. One o't those kiddie cruisers he'd seen o'holo on at some point. It was nestled up 'gainst the back wall o'the small corridor he was in. Next to it was o'model speeder and a toy ball. That dread he'd felt outside started t'get stronger.

The kitchen was as dead as the outside. Cupboards were closed an' the sink looked like it hadn't been used inna while. More muted light pierced th'windows, elongatin' shadows and causing Kazaar to think ghost o'some kind haunted the place. When he got 'round the corner wall, he' stopped.

She was sittin' there, brown-blonde hair down by 'er neck. Hunched over with o'blanket 'round her shoulders. Wasn't movin' at all. Couldn't see 'er face, but sure seemed like she was just staring at th'far wall. Got closer t'er but she didn't move.

"Adelaide?"

[Adelaide Kasperian-Kazaar]

"You're too late"

Kazaar's brow creased, not comprehending her meaning, or why she was there - or he here - as he stood waivering in the doorway, "Delly?"

"They took him" her voice was flat, void of any real emotion.
"Killed him" She turned her head to slowly look at Kazaar, and repeated "You're too late"

Adelaide looked a spectre, shabby and formless hunched in her blanket, her words floating to Kazaar as if disconnected from the speaker. Everything about her appeared grey and lack-lustre. The room with its unkempt furnishings and opague light, her hair that hung drabbly to her shoulders, framing a face pale and empty. Only her eyes had life. A fevered light that seemed to spark as they settled on Aurelias.

She stood, and as the cover dropped away it revealed a wasted body sheathed in a shapeless cotton shift, a stain of blood spread dark and dried across her lap.
"Why didn't you come?"

She shuffled a step towards him and Aurelias heard the clink of metal. She had chains about her feet.

"They stole him right from my womb" she said inching forward and Kazaar stood rooted in place, unable to turn away or move to help her. "They stuck me with their sharp knives and cut our son away" The cotton shift moistened as she moved, Kazaar could see - the blood stain was growing, spreading wider and bleeding rich red, slick and glistening in the refracted light of the sullen moon. When did it get night, he wondered? He could hear thick droplets land on her shuffling feet, could smell the copper scent unique to blood.
"You didn't save us" Del accused, her voice growing in force.
"You didn't try"

She was upon him now and gripped his arms with hands of ice and pulled herself against him. Her nails were dirty he noticed, torn and bloody. Her knuckles were grazed and swollen. She'd been fighting, struggling with someone, or something. Her breath was hot against his face and when she spoke again, it was Ashley's voice he heard.

"I called your name, Aurelias. I screamed it, yet you didn't come"

Del's eyes were fervid in anguish, and Ash's voice quivered so that it was heartbreaking to hear. "I could hear you laughing and cursing. Always cursing, Kazaar. What use is that when I was dying?"

Adelaide echoed, "What use?"
She shook her head - a hopeless gesture and reached forward to press her lips to Kazaar's, her hands still holding in him in a vice grip.

Her mouth tasted hard and bitter, nothing like he remembered, and as she kissed him, he felt her smile. Her teeth were against his, rough and greedy and biting. Her lips felt thin and bloodless. Kazaar pulled away as sudden understanding came to him. The Albino held him in his arms, his sneering grin pulling his mouth back in a feral snarl. Twin red eyes pinned him in malicious humor and a voice Kazaar thought he'd heard the last of mocked him.

"Hello boy"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar woke up inna cold sweat. Took o'few moments t'look 'round and realize he was on board Th'Dutchman. His own ship. So whatever th'frack'd been going on had only been in 'is head. Goofy-ass dreams 'bout Ash an' Delly, last frackin' time he ate Gamorrean food f'dinner. Frackers didn't know how t'cook no matter what that holozine th'Kid was readin'.
Slid outta bed an' looked 'cross where a sink was right across from 'is bed. Didn't remember installin' it but way things'd been going, he was forgettin' a helluva lotta stuff. That frackin' Sith'd really screwed up 'is mind, making him not know left from right're up from down. It was o'damn tragedy how things'd been going. Sufferin' from blackouts an' thinking 'bout the past. Only time he really liked doin' that when he was pissed drunk. An' Estelle'd been trying t'keep him from gettin' drunk off his as forra while.

Might be time t'see if th'Kid'd be willing t'let 'im start drinking 'gain.

Wandered over t'the sink an' stared inside the mirror. Looked like hell. Naw...looked more like o'bantha had sat on 'is face, then taken o'shit. Like he'd aged almost ten years're so. Frackin' sucked. Hell, he gave o'tired smirk an' turned back towards the bed, he was so fracked up he'd knocked all the bed clothes into o'mound. Definitely hafta ask Estelle 'bout drinking again. Not drinkin' was making 'im feel sluggish an' outta whack.
*
He was gettin' ready t'sit back down when th'mound moved anna tousled brown head came out from under th'covers.

"You okay Aurelias?" Th'Kid's face was sleepy but 'er brown eyes were fulla concern. "I heard you moaning a bit in your sleep. Nightmares?"

"Ya got no frackin' clue, Kid." Kazaar sat down, trying t'figure out when in th'hell he an' Estelle'd become an item. Sure she'd mentioned havin' o'crush on 'im but that was 'fore they started workin' with Birdy an' before Toxicity. Why th'frack was 'is head so gummed up? Hands started hurtin' too, an' so did 'is back. He winced an' felt the mattress shift from under 'im.

"Here...let me." Estelle wrapped 'er arms 'round his shoulders an' kissed his cheek. Felt her bare breasts press up 'gainst his back. She shifted position an' started kneading 'er hands into 'is muscles. "You're tense...more tense than you should. Everything okay? Were they that bad?"

"Yeh...bad...worse than before."

She leaned her mouth next to 'is ear. "I'm sorry Aurelias...but you know..." Her tongue swirled 'round his ear. "I can make those nightmare go right away."

Kazaar smirked an' pulled 'er 'round his shoulder. "C'mere you. Want ya t'prove it."

Kissed 'er. Soft at first then with o'little more passion. Felt good. Damn good. Th'Kid was always o'frackin' good complement to 'is work. Been like that since th'start. Always workin' well with each other. An extension o'the two. Hell, made perfect since they'd start shackin' up. Hadn't had o'dame like this since Ash. Hell...kissin' Estelle was o'helluva lot like kissing Ash.

Kazaar stared up in th'mirror an' saw 'is eyes widen. Th'Kid's hair'd suddenly turned that wavy blond only Ashley'd had. Then 'fore his eyes, he saw it start t'wither an' die. Pretty soon he wasn't kissin' a face but o'corpse. A corpse that'd been rottin' for years.

Broke th'kiss with o'start an' rolled over th'bed, reaching for th'blaster he kept under it.

With o'yelp, Estelle hit the ground. "You okay?" Her eyes were full o'concern as Kazaar stared at 'er. "Aurelias?"

He shook 'is head. "Yeh...just saw somethin' in th'fracking mirror. Kid my head ain't been right. Been fracked up or something. Not really sure what the hell's goin' on."

Th'Kid rose up an' hugged 'im. "I'm sorry Aurelias. I'm sorry. Here...lay back. I'll make you feel better."

She kissed 'im again. Soft at first, then harder. More passion. Kazaar could feel it buildin' up. Like o'flame turnin' into o'whole fire. Burnin' hot. Never felt this b'fore.

Slammed into th'mattress, their lips still locked. Th'Kid was suckin' on 'is bottom lip hard. Lotta pent up passion there. Helluva lot. She sucked harder, then.

Frack!

Bit 'is frackin' lip. Kazaar could taste th'coppery blood, but Estelle didn't stop. Felt like she was too hungry're somethin'. Finally broke their kiss an' went for 'is neck. More nibblin', some suckin' then...

FRACK!

She BIT him. Hard. Felt like she'd taken part o'the skin out.

Estelle leaned back as blood dribbled down 'er chin. Face had an intoxicatin' look on it. Like she'd gotten drunk. 'er eyes were red with hunger...naw...they were just red. Blood red.

Then she hissed. Animal like.

Her hands were like claws sliding 'cross his chest. Left red streaks as blood started t'seep out, an' down his chest.

She leaned forward an' horror started t'fill Kazaar as his strength left 'im. This wasn't Russard...somethin' was frackin' wrong.* Right behin' her two shapes started t'come outta th'bed. Lilaena De'Ville and Milivikal k'Vik. Faces were distorted, eyes were too shrunken an' teeth too long.* Hands were claws too. They leaped on Kazaar, going for 'is legs.* He felt o'searing pain as De'Ville's face came back bloody as all hell. She'd just taken o'chunk outta his thigh. All three dames were changin, their bodies growin' thinner until their bones showed. Skin turned grey'n mottled. It cracked an' shriveled up. Hair flung t'their skin like it was plastered on. Their eyes were wide, dark circles of hate. Noses disappeared into just two holes on their faces. Jaws were elongated to fit their bloody teeth.

started elongating an' their bloody mouths became fulla pointed teeth. Frackin' hideous.

They descended on 'im, ripping out flesh like he was some kinda meal. Just tearin' him apart. Th'Kid gulped down part of his left shoulder like it was o'nerf steak, while De'Ville feasted on his calf. k'Vik took off one o'Kazaar's pecs, then ripped into his left arm. It eventually fell off.

He wanted t'pass out but couldn't. Somethin' wasn't lettin' him. Pain, somethin'...couldn't figure out what it was.

His eyes got plucked out an' he couldn't see. Just heard screeches an' grunts as the rest o'his body was ripped to shreds. When his throat got torn out, he finally lost all feelin'.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal’s lip curled upward, despite the pleasant afterglow of pinks and gold of the post-sunset. The warehouse was located close to the equator, and the air was hot, still and humid. It would make a Mon Cal or a Quareen happy, but as a bipedal mammal designed for non-marine environs, it was distasteful. Perhaps a frog would have been joyful. With the daylight gone, activity had wound down somewhat. The warehouse districts on Kuat were mostly for foodstuffs and consumer goods. The vast majority of cargo stayed spacebound, on the massive shipyard structures.

“Warehouse is about a kilometer that way.” Cyrus said after a brief glance at the street signs, and wiped his face. Sweat built up on his bald head. If someone shot a spitball on it, it would stick, Mirko reasoned. Mili reasoned it would make it more difficult to shove his head into a signpost. Estelle and Mili could feel the limited makeup they each wore under assault by moisture.

“Lead on.” Estelle instructed, and wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve.

“I wish I had gills.” Mirko said. He looked greasier than usual. Even Lawrence looked uncomfortable.

Cargo speeder traffic passed the group, carrying various goods to restaurants and stores to restock for the next day’s commerce, but it paid the small group of people walking down the sidewalk no mind. Cyrus stopped two intersections away from the landing pad and took another look at the address.

“Yeah, it’s this way.” He said, and gestured with his left hand and a pointer finger to the left. The sign read “Cavali Imports” and was a simple black on white design with the name in bold block letters. Milivikal and Estelle’s eyes flicked about, trained from her years of spy work to search for monitoring equipment. There wasn’t any at first glance.

“The Sith is not present, nor Kazaar.” Mili stated, irritation clear in her voice.

“What?” Cyrus said, taken aback. Estelle had already gone to work with a codebreaker on the door. The bolt clicked open, and Mili pulled the office door open with the Force. She entered first, lightsaber in hand with Estelle right behind her, blaster drawn. The warehouse had boxed cargo in it. There were browned bloodstains on the floor, and a modified medic’s gurney had been lashed to an empty cargo shelf post. The surrounding area had been stained with blood.

“This blood is fresh, only a few hours old.” Estelle stated. She noticed the occasional spatter and drop heading toward the rear door. Mili, meanwhile, seemed elsewhere.

[Estelle Russard]

The squeak came from Mirko as they filed inside and all present tried to pretend they didn't notice. Estelle had felt the same gut-clenching sensation as Mirko, but had been hardened by experience to not react outwardly to it. She felt sorry for Mirko who was ill-equipped for such moments.

"The blood loss is extensive" she observed clinically, the scene opening up before her in her minds eye. Kazaar in restraints, unable to fight back physically but resisting in every other possible way he knew. "They have moved him to a less exposed location"

"Or dumped him in a gutter some where" Cyrus chirrped.

"Oh no, no!" Mirko wrung his fingers.

"Be quiet" Estelle held up a firm hand.

Mili touched a light finger to Mirko's shoulder and instantly his agitation abated, his voice softening to a muted sob.


Cyrus weasled up toe to toe with Mili, "Y'know thats quite a skill you got there, sweet-cheeks, but y'know you're infringing on peoples rights"

"BE quiet" Russard yanked Haman away by his collar and set him close beside her, "Be useful or get out of the way"
Following the trail of blood to the door and back, Estelle turned hopefully towards the Jedi who was clearly concentrating on things outside of the room.

"Do you get anything on him? Anything at all?"