Sestooine Rage

Kazaar snorted. Even he knew th'Jedi were bein' hidden by th'Rebellion. "Hell yeah there're a lotta idiots out there. Guys who oughta be doin' a job they're suited fer instead o'galavanting around th'galaxy.

"An' yeah, I wouldn't be o'Force user if I had o'choice. Damn thing's too frackin' simple. Ain't sayin' they don't serve their purpose ('cause they do) but they ain't as important than they'd like ya t'think."

Pointed o'finger. "Biggest problem...too many frackers care 'bout the guys with powers than th'fellas on th'ground workin' their asses off 'cause they wanna help out somethin' they believe in don't get the credit they frackin' deserve. Naw everyone likes o'fracker with powers'n abilities no one else has.

"Force-damned morons. Force-damned fracking morons."

She shrugged, "Like I said, I'm not defending them. I just don't think you can just lump all Force users into one big pile.

"Anyway, you say you wouldn't choose t' have the Force. But I don't think it works that way - you're just born with it. I think choice only figures into what you do with it.

"And you never commented on how one of your normal partners is one of those 'Force-dammed morons.'" She swiveled the chair around to face him more directly. "Do you spend all your time with them berating them about the dead Jedi Order?"

"Difference is Birdy knows how t'live without the Force." Kazaar shot back. "Bet'cha o'case of whatever ya favorite brew is most Jedis don't know how t'use a blaster. 'Sides...ain't just Force users that piss me off. Pretty much anyone who ain't smart 'nough t'figure out how to survive...an' I ain't talkin' 'bout those who got families or are kids. Gotta learn how t'fight. Even if it's just throwing o'frackin punch...frackin' learn how t'do it. Stand th'frack up for yaself f'Kad's sake."

Quit forra bit while the two just stared at each other. "Th'hell ya so defiant 'bout Force users anyway? Ya get saved by some while back and decide t'kiss theor asses 'cause of it? Got some hero worship goin' on Lady?"

She shrugged. "Just trying to understand you better." His prejudice was blind, and she wasn't about to change his mind. It was like she hadn't said anything at all, except maybe paint herself as a sympathizer.

After another long moment she added, "Is there a cabin I should stow my bag in? And I wouldn't mind a place where I can exercise, if you've got one."

Kazaar pointed towards th'hold. "Turned th'cargo hold into o'workout area. Got some weights, few punching bags...even o'mat if ya wanna do stretches an' gymnastics. Ya can pretty much sleep wherever th'frack ya want. Got six rooms. Mosta 'em have a bed.

"Need o'tour or can ya find it yaself?"

"I can manage," she said dryly, pushing herself up from the chair. "Try not to fly us into a star or something."

De'Ville was already walking down the passage away from the cockpit and couldn't hear his reply. Chose not to hear it. Before this mission was over she might well end up murdering him in his sleep - no, while he was awake. She shared his animosity toward the Jedi, although for different reasons.

Despite that, they didn't seem to have anything in common. Snatching her holdall off a chair she stalked through the freighter, locating a cabin that didn't have any personal effects in it. She did a quick check in the built in dresser and closet to make sure Kazaar didn't have any clothing stowed, and then she threw her bag on the bunk.

The jacket joined it, and then she pulled the v-neck up over her head and dropped it on top of the leather jacket. The black tank top she wore underneath was sufficient for exercising in.

It took a few more minutes of poking around to find the access to the hold - YT-2000s were all a little different and she hadn't been in one in years. Inside she found much as Kazaar had described. Settling on the mat she set about stretching out, bending her lithe body along her legs and taking off her shoes. Straightening back up she tossed her boots to the side, and then she leaned forward again, fingers past her toes and then splitting her legs and lying her forehead down on the mat.

She almost unconsciously slipped into a semi-trance as she went through her stretches, feeling the Force throughout the ship and all its occupants. After a few minutes of stretches De'Ville reluctantly drew back, conscious of being too in touch with the Force. If she wasn't careful she might do something by reflex, and so had to keep herself in check.

De'Ville got to her feet and did some warm ups, then eyed the punching bag. She stared at it, then spun around, kicking it with the edge of her foot and sending the bag swinging frenziedly.

"Ya leg's wrong." A guttural voice caused De'Ville t'stop o'minute.

Kazaar was standin' there, cigar still clutched between 'is teeth. He'd discarded his long jacket and khakis for warm up pants but kept his tank top on. First thing she noticed was again th'scars...then the tattoos.

Had three of 'em. First one was o'Ikas-Adno, the famed speeder bike maker, inna winged designed on his left bicep. Kinda made sense forra guy like Kazaar. Second one was right below it an' looked like it'd gotten shot or something 'cause there wasn't much to it.

The third one was th'most detailed an' interesting one. O'half-sleeve, it featured four Aces from o'sabacc deck, then five small quadrijet swoop bikes below. It was weird though, th'bikes looked like they were in some kinda formation. Almost as if Kazaar was tryin' t'memorialize someone. Kinda struck o'lotta people who came in contact with the former bounty hunter was pretty frackin' odd. Those who knew Kazaar best...knew that wasn't th'case.

"Ya leg position." Kazaar's voice got De'Ville back on track as he pointed at De'Ville's left leg. "It's frackin' wrong. Puttin' too much weight on th'back foot. Leavin' yaself open t'getting tagged an' knocked down."

He strode forward, takin' his shoes off before gettin' on the mat. "Here, try this." Kazaar did his own roundhouse kick, sendin' th'bag wobblin' like o'Rodian tryin' to wiggle outta o'deal.

"See..." Kazaar pointed out. "Like that. More balanced, helluva lot easier t'knock o'guy loopy.

"Good kick though. Echani?"

She shrugged, "Just something I picked up." Lilaena shifted her weight a tiny bit and kicked again. There was a small difference, and the bag swung towards Kazaar, who stopped it with two hands.

"Never studied with an Echani." It was hard not to let her speech cadence fall into Kazaar's own patterns, as her natural tendency was towards mimicry. De'Ville put her right arm up over her head, letting her hand dangle down her back as she pulled lightly on her elbow. Her tank top was not skimpy, revealing only minor cleavage, but there were the very ends of some thick ropy scars visible on her back, just peeking out under the fabric as she stretched.

"I don't usually practice with a bag," she admitted.

Kazaar smirked. Then swung o'closed fist at De'Ville's head. Got blocked pretty easily an' th'dame gotta quick blow t'Kazaar's chin. He rolled back comin' up inna defensive stance.

Lady was on 'im pretty quick with a kick t'his head. Kazaar caught it, threw th'lighter De'Ville aside an'was on her a quick second later. They slammed t'the mat but Starborn's broodling wiggled away. Kazaar caught 'er foot an' she went down, but not before catchin' him on the ear with a kick.

Frack the dame was fast. Both of 'em scrambled to their feet. Kazaar moved first with o'quick strike t'De'Ville's stomach, then one at her head.

She had a half grin on her face as he came at her without warning. De'Ville steeled her abdominal muscles against the gut punch and let it push her backwards, catching the higher strike with her hands and yanking Kazaar forward, rolling him over her hip and to the mat.

She followed through with the movement, straddling his chest and chopping at his throat with the side of her hand. De'Ville stopped just short of the blow, and they remained there for a moment, both breathing heavily.

"Nice work." Kazaar smirked.

Legs came up quickly an' caught De'Ville 'round the shoulders. He forced 'er down t'the mat, but again th'quicker Rebel rolled through an' got up on her feet. Her foot shot out an' struck Kazaar in th'shoulder as he scrambled up. Somethin' popped but he was able t'get it back in place as readied his shoulders.

Both combatants had o'similar expression on their faces. It was one Kazaar'd seen onna couple people before but never o'mass audience.

Predatory.

Made his smirk get even frackin' bigger.

Both of 'em moved at the same time. Kazaar went into o'boxer's stance and gotta couple quick jabs on De'Ville's face. Not much damage, but 'nough t'let 'er know he wasn't gonna give up.

De'Ville's moves were just as powerful an' quick. Gave Kazaar two quick open-handed raps on his right ear, then o'knee to the stomach. Kazaar responded by another jab then o'quick strike to the sternum. Knocked De'Ville back o'bit but her foot came up and Kazaar barely frackin' blocked it.

Lady was good that was f'damn sure.

Right foot shot out with o'couple hits on De'Ville's left knee. Kazaar got steady, then again when forra two jab, punch combo.

Living among the Mando'ade and then working with SpecForce had honed her already formidable fighting skills to a sharper edge, and she felt herself wanting to push harder, to teach this buffoon a lesson. Kazaar was giving as well as he got, however, striking her hard on the knee a few times before settling into something more like a shockboxer's stance.

He was still smirking, and she grew irritated, wondering if he was just playing with her, or thinking that he was proving something. De'Ville slapped away the first few jabs, trying to move in past his superior reach, and then circled away, just dodging a punch that would have had her seeing stars.

"You're not bad," she admitted, trying to keep the atmosphere light and companionable. De'Ville raised an eyebrow, and added, "Its probably not good for you to get all worked up like this. Might have a stroke." She followed her words up with a quick stutter step to close the distance between them and a hard right, left hook combo, trying to get through his defenses.

Blocked th'hard right. Took th'left hook in th'ear. Well mostly in th'ear. Kazaar was able t'block the damn thing but she still hit 'im in th'fracking ear. An' it hurt.

Kazaar staggered back, wincin' as he did. De'Ville pressed th'attack but he caught 'er arm, spun so his back was facin' her and flipped her over his shoulder. She was good, raked his frackin' eyes with her free hand as she went over. He tried not t'let go, but she nailed 'im in the nose, so he was forced t'let go and back up.

But not before giving 'er a good (and somewhat illegal inna lotta fights) kick to the shoulder. 'Bout that time Kazaar (audibly) thanked Kad for bacta...and bourbon.

Wiped his eyes clean but kept th'damn smirk on 'is face.

"Lady...I know some professional shockboxers ya'd give o'run for their frackin' creds. Hell some guys who'd prob'ly wanna get ya inna Battle Circle t'see what ya can do."

He switched styles once more into more ovva Broken Gate stance. Then he raised his left hand and beckoned.

"Bring it."

Lilaena was beginning to enjoy herself despite her initial dislike of her companion. And then he said something and it clicked.

Battle Circle.

Kazaar was Mando'ade, or had been among them. It explained some of his fighting style and also why she was beginning to feel so comfortable around him, despite his whiskey breath and close minded opinions. When he motioned her forward she returned his smirk.

"I don't know if you can handle any more, old man." He was probably only ten years older than her, and she charged at him anyway, wary enough of his stance that she avoided the first strike, catching it on her forearm. He followed through, and she blocked that one as well, then punched above his gut with a short jab, aiming for his solar plexus.

*OOF*

Punch knocked 'im back and off balance (barely missin' his jewels). De'Ville sent 'nother strike into his stomach, then one to his jaw. All th'wind went outta Kazaar's lungs an' he saw stars.

Wasn't much else he could do but fall t'the mat an' pull De'Ville with 'im. They both landed hard and Kazaar got off one more punch. Wasn't much but he wasn't goin' down without swingin'

Kazaar wrapped her up and pulled her down, and she made the mistake of not having her mouth closed all the way when she hit the ground. He punched her and her teeth clicked shut on her tongue.

She groaned with pain, pushing away from Kazaar and rolling up to a sitting position. Opening her mouth carefully she could feel the warm gush of blood, her tongue still impaled on her teeth until it painfully came away. "Ow," De'Ville said, an understatement as blood dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin.

"Shit." Kazaar swore. Hadn't meant t'fracking do that. Sure injuries happened all th'time but Kazaar'd never been o'fan of fightin' women. Sparred with th'Kid from time t'time sure, but not an all out war like that'd been. Scary frackin' thing was he'd enjoyed it.

The lettin' go. It'd been o'release of something he hadn't known he'd had bottled up. Still didn't excuse him rattlin' De'Ville's jaw like that.

Kazaar scrambled up t'his feet an' quickly went to a bench where he always had a towel. Grabbed it an' tossed it towards De'Ville. She caught it with one hand an pressed it 'gainst her mouth.

"Ya alright?" Be th'closest thing to an apology he'd ever give.

She nodded an' got t'her feet.

Kazaar couldn't help but smirk. "Ya did o'helluva job there Lady. Sure beat th'crap outta me." Headed towards th'doors, pullin' his tank top off.

"Gonna grab o'shower then sack out. Welcome t'do whatever ya want."

Last thing De'Ville saw was Kazaar's scarred back as he left.

"Don't worry, I'll find your medkit," she mumbled against the towel after the door closed behind him. Tongues bled like nothing else if they got sliced, but thankfully they healed quickly enough. Hurt though. De'Ville used a bit of a Force pain suppression technique to take the edge off, breathing deeply through her nose, and then left the hold. She couldn't hear a shower going, but could feel an extra vibration in the bulkhead as she leaned against it.

In the living area she did find a medkit, and unscrewed the top of a tube of bacta gel, squirting the tasteless substance into her mouth. The towel was very bloody, and she took care to make sure she didn't get any blood on the floor. Back in the refresher near her cabin she examined her tongue in the mirror, manipulating it with her fingers to make sure she had the ragged cut covered with bacta. Blood bubbled out, and she smeared some more gel on it, holding the tongue still and in the air long enough for the gel to set.

De'Ville dropped the towel into the sink to clean later, and walked to her room to grab an unsoiled shirt. A five minute shower later she was standing in the living area rooting around for a clean mug.

A *bleep* instead greeted De'Ville durin' her search as th'R7 droid called 'Trey' trundled up to her. On its head was one o'those holder-like trays lotta droids at bars used. What was on th'tray was o'frackuva lot more interesting: full, steaming up of caf, plus cream an' sugar.

'Trey' then went off inna different direction, the *bleeps* and *twerts* givin' obvious meaning De'Ville was to follow.

She was led into o'pretty spartan living area. O'stuffed chair with an ashtray sat next to o'small round table. Pretty obvious who normally sat there. Table had o'couple stains from where beer bottles or glasses been left an' left a ring. Was o'inlaid table on the far side of the room (pretty traditional for YT-freighters) which was used f'either games or eatin'. Kazaar'd also had a leather couch installed with o'table in front of it.

The R7 droid placed the mug, cream and sugar on the table near the couch. Then waited for De'Ville to either sit or stand but it was pretty obvious 'Trey' wanted to know if she needed anything else.

She was tempted to take the chair, but settled down on the couch. "I just wanted some water," she told the droid, her words a little thick from her swollen tongue. The swelling would go down in the next hour or so, if the bacta did its job, but she didn't want to swish hot liquid around in her mouth until maybe tomorrow. Or never. Yeah, maybe never.

The droid trundled off, uttering some incomprehensible beeps and bloops, and Lilaena leaned back, resting her head on the back of the couch. She closed her eyes, and appeared to be asleep.