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Sirdi Kōhō
Oct 15th, 2016, 10:18:42 PM
[Current Day]

- Jewels from Beforeland -



3116








Nar Shaddaa looked like a jewel from outer space. It was a brown marble. And, white clouds spiraled along the orb. Overgrown with city sprawls, the Nar Shaddaa was lit. Nicknamed “The Smugglers Moon”, it’s looks were deceiving. Under the pure white clouds was smog. Night hid the green and yellow clouds. Tall dark buildings reached above it all. Those buildings were shaped like a fighter’s fingers. Decay stripped most skyscrapers of color. Apartments shot up next to neon signs. Out open windows alien’s scowled. Businesses ran on. Dance clubs floated by skywalks. Drunk patrons stumbled out. Vomit stained the speeder lots. In the sky bikes, buses, hoversleds and speeders alike bolted through set lanes. Landing bays poked out from the ports. Refuel spires sat atop buildings. Ships descended from above as others rose. Small and wide shouldered figures ran with tools to some ships. Others were greeted with entourages. Long garbs draped down the back of their welcoming parties. From up above one could see it all, even the Jedi Padawan on his airspeeder shooting from the New Vertica Western starport’s parking lot into the stuffed skylanes.

The speeder bike had high handlebars. It was a Joben T-85. It was decayed as the city; old and rusty and red. The Padawan was young and calm and brown. Dressed like some Corellian spacer, he had the jacket, slacks and shirt get-up down pact. The jacket was black. The slacks were black too but striped. The shirt was white as an egg. The only missing look were his footwear. The Corelllian spacers wore boots. Boots were good for unusual terrian. No one knew where they'd be landing drifting the bright star skies. Yet, he had on black sneakers. For some reason, he had to be a special snowflake.

His grip was tight on the bars. He tilted his elbows right. The speeder bent. He seeped between two speeders. Then, tilted back with his left arm. Then, again and again. He danced in and out the traffic. His ears couldn’t decipher the alien garble he swept by. Every swoop he sped pass was riddled with strange music and stranger voices.

He glanced at the bike’s clock. Between the bars it stared back at him. The glass showed his face. There were small eyes, smooth skin, and full lips looking back at him. The brows furrowed as he caught the time.

“Frell,” he murmured.

His wrist cocked back and the repulsorlift groaned. The engines roared and he blasted. The Padawan was a blur on a bike, bolting by and through lights before they switched. His knees were wide and back bent. Speeders narrowly missed smacking into him as he shifted around their door openings and lane switches. On his waist bounced a Jedi’s weapon. Or, at least the practice one; he was still only equipped with the knock-off practice saber. The hilt still garner respect for those whom remembered the Jedi. Yet, the sting wasn’t nearly as powerful as a true Knight’s cut.

Which was why he was here. He needed a crystal and knew a girl...or two.

Sirdi had to get to the Blue’s Paw cantina before it closed. “Damn, damn, damn - move it!”

Qayle Trevora
Oct 15th, 2016, 11:01:32 PM
The night had already turned out to be dull. Coming to the infamous Smugglers Moon once again made Qayle queezy, her stomach groaned and churned with unease.. She hated it here, but her assignments came before her desire to depart a dump such as this moon.

Dressed in a casual outfit – Dark Dress Shirt with a Grey tank underneath, light blue tight fitting jeans and black heels. Her hair was done up in a tight pony and nails painted purple with black.
Qayle like usual had a plasma pistol secured on her thigh and a slugthrower on her belt.


Walking through the mean streets while ignoring the vagabond roaming begging for loose change she couldn'thelp but feel pity for them, yet she just wanted to get to the little hole in the wall they consider an “apartment”. Passing by the local disease trap she bumped into a stripper walking out the door for a quick drag “Ever hear of watching where you walk?” The operative asked while walking past.




Vrooooom! Came a noise from the streets skree! The thing sounded off the alarm as the brown and red aged crap heap vehicle sped on by, The operatives hair flung over her shoulder. Watching it zoom by Qayle nodded in disbelief but continued on her trek knowing she'd probably bump into that idiot speedster once again.

Sirdi Kōhō
Oct 16th, 2016, 09:05:58 AM
Togruta and Twi’lek had lekku in common. Their tentacles dangled from their heads with pride. Those head-tails were crowns. In any crowd the two races stood out. When bunched together they no one could miss them. They were perfect contacts. One was a Togruta woman. She was tall. She was thin. She dressed sleek. Everything worn was leather or expensive hide. A black crop top exposed her navel. And, there sparkled a pierced black diamond ring. Her septum twinkled with a black hoop piercing. Black gloves covered her fist. Black tights gripped her long legs. Dark spotless spacer boots made her taller. And, a black shawl kept her warm in the Nar Shaddaa night. Her horns curved. Her red face was white around the eyes, but left only two striped marks on her full bottom lip smirk & sprawled on her small chin. Her right lekku swung over her left shoulder. Her back was straight. Her chin was high. Her blue-eyed gaze pierced down on others who walked by. Furry critters and mammoth scaled beast slunk before her. Beside her was a Twi’lek gal. She was much shorter. She was nearly a foot shorter. Yet, leaned against the wall with bravado. Both her hands were perched in her pockets, a toothpick in her mouth, as if no one could hurt her. A blaster pistol rested in a holster on her tool belt with other trinkets. Her wide hips showed them all off. She looked capable and blue. She was a dark blue. Her hazel leer disregarded all. Her brain-tails lay slung over her shoulders. There was no obstruction for her face. It was almond shaped. Her eyes were almond shaped too. Her cupid-bow lips and high cheek-bones with big cheeks were spotless with tattoos, piercings or jewels. Only goggles crowned her skull, keeping her tails in place. Everything else was on her was covered though. Everything beside her fingers; she donned the fingerless gloves, but wore a dark high-waisted jacket to cover her neck, brown trousers, with a pale turtleneck. She dressed warm, but crossed her arms and looked cold.

The two stood under the Blue Paw sign. The cantina’s sliding door opened every few seconds. What spilled out was always different. Bundles of youth out on the town trickled in and out. Bulky off-worlders garbled grumpy ball-busting bullcrap to one another. Liver filled fools yelled on their way out hours after stumbling their way in. Shady solitaire figures would seep in every once in awhile. They walked calm. They left calm. No one bothered them. And, no one bothered the two ladies as they chit-chatted under the sign.

The Twi’lek looked at her datapad. The time flashed back at her. “Sirdi, Sirdi, Sirdi,” she shook her head, rolled her eyes, her timbre low & raspy.

“He’s coming,” the Togruta chirped. Her voice was high. “Yez, ya so impatient, ya know that?”

“No. He’s too late, do ya know that?” Yez side-eyed the Togruta.


“Whatever,” the lanky horned gal feigned a pout and crossed her arms.

“Dascha, you al--” Yez mouth went to sound the words, but her gut forced her lips into a scowl. Beyond the foot traffic, out in the sky burst a rusty speed bike. Purple pollution stained the skyline and the yellow flare of the speeder caught her eye. Who was on the bike forced a stare. Once more, the unfashionably late wayfarer was cutting the lanes and nearly causing accidents. Yells trailed him as he swept across vans and other bikers toward the lot nearby the Paw.

“See,” Dascha, the Togruta, started. “There he goes.”

-----

[2 Year ago]


Bright lights lit the saloon. At the bar was a Squib. The fur on his chin was long. His voice was groggy. He was old. His former yellow eyes were browned by time. Everyday he came to his bar, Blue’s Paw and wondered if it’d be his last. Weary patrons stared him down with drinks. Duros, Bothans, Anx, Lowens and even a Cathar were sprinkled throughout the crowded cantina. Every booth was occupied. Bar games were set up in the back room. A musician serenaded the patrons backed by the bangings of drums and sweet strings. She was a smooth human with a smoother voice and a flute in hand. Between riffs and lyrics she’d blow a tune to go with her band. Few watched, few even paid much attention, but they felt her. She filled the room. Most were tangled in their own webs at their respective tables. Laughs echoed throughout. Under the echoes rumbled arguments. Between the bass and roars, tucked in an opposite corner sat Yez, Dascha and Sirdi who whispered.

“There you go!” Dascha pushed the tied up small bag across the table.

“And, don’t go asking for anymore of these kinda chips” Yez scowled. “Its so nasty finding sithspawn like this”

Sirdi chuckled. His plan was coming together. The chips in the bag were Lt. Tun Junn’s lost art. The Lieutenant had a taste for the graphic and sexual. He’d desperately try to wipe his datapad of all incriminating info, but Sirdi had his suspicions. So did Lt. Tun Junn’s wife. After a few wayward talks and berating, Sirdi decided to get chummy with Junn’s wife. Nothing foul, just a conversation or two to familiarize himself with his pest’s love life. Now, he was entrusted with handling his superior’s hardware for an update. All he had to do was transfer a bit of information. Nothing big. But, Mrs. Junn would be learning some of the wild proclivities of her nearest and dearest. All from an anonymous message tipping her off, of course.

He wasn’t silly enough to leave a trail leading back to him.

“Nah, don’t ya worry ye lil heads - this is a one time thing.”

Qayle Trevora
Nov 13th, 2016, 11:51:06 AM
Placing her finger to her ear she activated her comm unit and smirked as she noticed who was on the other end "Ya ya, I get it.." she mused as she received an alert and noticed the bike she saw earlier parked nearby "10-4. The vehicle has been spotted, wait for further communicate" she responded while moving to the entrance, opening the door and advancing inside.

The blond haired agent rolled her eyes as she stepped inside and began advancing toward the floor. Her imperial issue tazer fastened to her thigh and her attention given to the situation that had arose with a complaint of another. Walking to the bar she leaned against it and ordered a drink while trying to adjust to the crappy conditions of the club "Did anyone come in here within the last hour?" she asked the barkeep only to be given a toothy grin and the bird.