Ask Nar Shaddaa Back to Back

[Ruzaan Kai]

Dipping in and out of consciousness, Ruzaan's already overwhelmed brain was treated to a confusing sequence of events. He was back on Felucia, staring helplessly at a nearby AT-TE crewman while a red lightsaber danced around through the air nearby on its own accord. Next thing he knew, the blade viciously chopped off the head of the crewman; whose face now looked something like Amira, sans horns. The head bounced comically once, twice, before coming to a stop next to him, while the lightsaber flew into the headless body's outstretched hand. "I hope you know what you're doing" said the head in Amira's voice, before morphing into that of an AMS zombie.

"I do" mumbled Ruzaan, slowly coming to; not on Felucia, but amidst the remains of a warehouse on Nar Shadda. Sluggishly, the Togruta tried to push himself away from the head in front of him that remained despite his attempts to shake his dream. Apparently, there actually was the severed head of a zombie staring back at him... gross! "What...!?"

Pushing himself up into something resembling a sitting position, and enduring the wave of dizziness that came with it, Ruzaan blearily tried to process his surroundings. There were more decapitated zombie bodies nearby than he'd remembered, but his lightsaber was still safely clipped to his belt and Amira was still horizontal and in pain. "...how?" he finally asked, eyeing Amira confusedly.


@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

The Togruta began to stir, muttering to himself as he roused from unconsciousness. As his eyelids began to flutter open, Amira slipped the hilt of her lightsaber back into place. He blinked a few times, eyelids slow and heavy as he tried to get his bearings, surveying the scene around him. There was no good answer to his question. No good lie. The Tiefling couldn't claim she had borrowed his lightsaber because it still hung from his belt, right where he'd left it. She couldn't say she had a vibrosword or a knife on her either. There was no blood splatter and no weapon lying around them. Ruzaan might have been young, but he wasn't stupid. There was discernment in those gray eyes, and experience, too. Far more than most teenagers his age.

"Does it matter?" she replied, arching an eyebrow. The zombies were dead. Permanently this time. That was all that mattered, and hopefully his curiosity would be satisfied. The Tiefling clambered to her feet, propping herself up against the wall for support. There was a poster behind her, stapled to the wall. It was old and faded, but a wookiee holding a bottle of shampoo could still be made out.
Amira knew she shouldn't put any unnecessary weight on her ankle, but every pound was necessary when you were being chased by bloodthirsty zombies. There was no other option but to press on, and she had endured far worse. They were exposed here in the middle of the street, surrounded by warehouses, scrapyards, and skyslums. One structure towered above the rest, a refueling spire that stretched toward the surface. "There," the Tiefling pointed, addressing Ruzaan. "A refueling station. Maybe we can catch a ride. Or a lift." If any of it still worked. It was worth a shot.

The Tiefling stumbled forward, trying to put as little pressure on her ankle as possible. She would slow them down, but she had a feeling the Jedi would not leave her behind. Maybe if he'd known who she really was, what she was, but no self-respecting Jedi would ever leave a citizen to fend for themselves. "So... are you a Padawan?" she asked quietly, making conversation for some reason.

Dice Roll: How well can Amira walk? 7/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan internally suppressed a sigh of frustration as Amira dodged his question; he was still very curious, but the Tiefling clearly didn't want to talk about it. Although injured, she was a formidable personality, and Ruzaan got the sense that it would take more than a sprained ankle to get Amira to lower her guard. It was the first time, though, that she'd been on the defensive; he'd expected scathing commentary after apparently having passed out trying to heal her ankle, but instead Amira directed the conversation elsewhere; towards a refueling station that jutted up towards the sky like a hand reaching for the stars.

Rather than press her for details about herself, Ruzaan simply nodded in agreement. He had neither the desire nor the energy to argue here, especially after he'd made a fool of himself. Again. This mission had been a mess from the beginning, but he'd personally been doing well enough up until a few moments ago. Now, he barely had the mental stamina to connect to the Force, let alone use it effectively. "Sorry" he mumbled, noting the pain with which Amira hobbled around on her injured leg.

The three-block journey to the refueling station was going to be difficult. Amira gave no sign of wanting his support for her injured leg, so Ruzaan took the lead and did his best to scout ahead. He made sure not to move too far away from Amira, but his caution was unnecessary; for the first block, the pair came across no new zombies, and Ruzaan decided to call a rest- for his sake or Amira's, he refused to say. Despite their verbal sparring earlier, Ruzaan found himself admiring the Tiefling's resilience; her injured ankle had to hurt, but instead of complain she decided to make conversation.

In response to her question, the Togruta smirked, before adopting his best impression of Amira and raising an eyebrow. If this didn't break some of the tension...

"Does it matter?"

@llamallove
((OOC: Rolled a 19/20 for the trip to the refueling station, although this could describe the first block and we can roll for the other 2))

 

[Amira Din]

"For what?" she challenged, tone and features passive when he apologized. A mischievous grin pulled at the corners of her lips, and she pointed an exaggerated finger toward her ankle. "Oh. You mean for this?" The Tiefling shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
It had been Amira's hand that had slipped, not Ruzaan's. Amira that had lost her grip and fallen, not Ruzaan. The teenager wasn't responsible for her injury, and she knew that. But she wasn't going to go out of her way to coddle him either. If he wanted to take the blame upon himself, then so be it. Jedi were always so dramatic, perpetually determined to be the archetypical hero that carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. She probably couldn't have stopped him even if she'd wanted to.

"But I've got to ask. Is that normally what happens? Slumping over and passing out?" Unnecessarily implacable perhaps, but she couldn't help herself. After they had walked a block or so, the Togruta was insistent that they stop and rest. Amira didn't think it was a good idea to stop now, when escape was within their grasp, but she didn't argue, and her ankle would certainly appreciate the reprieve. They'd come to a stop in the middle of a scrapyard, surrounded by mounds of discarded metal. Old ships parts, kitchen appliances, and oddments so outdated and ruined they were beyond repair and recognition.

It had all been useful, once upon a time, and had served a purpose. Now it all sat here, forgotten and untouched. Amira only hoped that a similar fate did not await she and Ruzaan. Stuck down here forever, alone and forgotten. Misplaced. The Champion slumped against an old, broken down speeder bike. Dark fingers ran across the leather seat, ripped and falling to bits, and she wondered what Edin was doing. Probably not running from infected alongside a Jedi, but knowing the Firrerreo, anything was possible.

"Is that really your best impression of me?" Amira asked, arching an eyebrow to match his. Still, she couldn't contain the chuckle that escaped her lips, and she didn't try. "Brazen little Jedi, aren't you?" He reminded her of a younger Jabari, in a way. Always piping up when you least expected it. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Amira's question about his healing capabilities hit a little closer to home than she'd likely intended, and for a moment looked off into the distance to hide his frown as he recalled the numerous times he'd passed out trying to heal someone. Kanan, Kift, Elidan, himself, and now Amira... his friend Clove made healing look so easy, but now that he thought about it Ruzaan realized that his own track record wasn't very good. "Uh... not always" he said, determined to save some face. "Trying to heal someone else takes more energy than trying to heal yourself." That was probably untrue, but Amira didn't need to know that.

Their resting spot, amidst a scrapyard, was apparently a place that the zombies did not tend to congregate. With nothing but metal and the occasional critter in sight, the Togruta understood why. It was the same reason why his people stuck to the grasslands instead of the deserts on Shili; there was more prey there. Had they been a larger group, the Togruta would've suggested taking turns resting, but being scarcely one block removed from the most recent zombie encounter did not give him confidence that they were safe. Rest, true rest, would have to wait.

At least his joke had been well received, and the ensuing banter was helping ease his frayed nerves. The Togruta shrugged at Amira's retort. "There's a lot more to us Jedi than what meets the eye" he responded. Certainly more than the media coverage represented. "But tell me about yourself? What do I need to know to make my Amira impression better?" He'd known her for all of 5 minutes, and they'd spent most of that time bickering. Ruzaan had to think that there was more to Amira than her quick tongue, but so far she'd been cautious with information about herself.

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

"Huh.." The Tiefling didn't sound entirely convinced, but considering this was her first encounter with force healing, she had no other personal experiences to draw from to formulate her own opinion. It was an ability aligned with what the Jedi liked to call the 'light' side of the force, as well as with the Nightsisters of Dathomir. To say Amira was less than impressed was an understatement. She'd expected a bright flash of light to fly out of his hands, or for a surge of tingling relief to spread through her throbbing ankle. The kind of relief typically only found at the bottom of a bottle. At this point, she wasn't even convinced it was real. Maybe it was just something the Jedi had made up to make themselves look better. "Must be hard for you Jedi then. Always putting others before yourselves."
Not that she really believed that, but that was the image they liked to play up for the rest of the galaxy. Ever its defenders, ever its protectors, all while their real legacy was quietly brushed under the rug. Thousands of years spent hunting the Sith like animals, trying to exterminate them at every turn.

Amira considered the Togruta opposite her, golden eyes locked on to his. They hardly knew one another, and yet she'd already picked up on a few commonalities that they shared. He was surprisingly stubborn and remarkably gusty for someone his age. Strange, that she should have anything in common with a Jedi. He claimed that there was more to the Jedi than meets the eye, but he was the first Jedi she'd ever encountered that could lighten up long enough to laugh at themselves. Maybe he was living proof that what he said was true, that not all Jedi were the same. Or maybe he was just like all the rest, a killer waiting to pounce should he ever discover the truth about her.

"I don't think you'd want to impersonate me," she eventually answered, a knowing look in her eyes. A unabashed grin spread across her lips, facial features lifting. "Besides, you don't have the face to pull it off. I'm infinitely better looking than you could ever hope to be." She was teasing him, but it was obvious that she believed every word. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan couldn't blame Amira for being skeptical of him, Force Healing, or the Jedi Order as a whole; he'd not exactly been the best ambassador thus far. People were quick to mistrust those they did not know or understand, which made sense in a galaxy shaken by conflict. Throw in a couple of widely-publicized mistakes, and it was no wonder the general public didn't know what to make of the Jedi. What he didn't expect was to find Amira's eyes locked on him, as if by looking she could come to a better understanding of him. Resisting the urge to shrink from her gaze, the Togruta took the opportunity to stare back and consider the person he knew as Amira.

Amira was a survivor, that was for sure. Between the confidence with which she carried herself and her uncomplaining attitude in regard to her injury, he guessed that this was not the first time Amira had seen danger. She had a fiery spirit, too, along with a healthy dose of caution; Ruzaan had been in situations where his identity as a Jedi had helped him gain the trust of others, but that revelation seemed to be more of a hindrance than a help today. She had her own secrets, too; clearly, she didn't trust him with the truth of what had happened when he was unconscious.

Even as his curiosity about those events began rising again, he couldn't help but grin mischievously as Amira brought up the subject of looks. The Tiefling had a point- Ruzaan was covered in the grime of Nar Shadda, and Amira was, by all accounts, pleasant to look at- but he wasn't about to simply agree with her; not when they'd been bantering back and forth since first meeting each other. "Oh, I've noticed" he said, his smile widening. "Those zombies couldn't seem to keep their hands off of you."

As light as the comment was, it did bring Ruzaan's focus back to the present. No doubt Amira had a comeback for that, but the Togruta would listen while he did a quick check of their surroundings; before poking around the immediate area. "But in all seriousness, we should keep moving. And if I can just find... ah ha!" His smile now one of triumph instead of teasing, Ruzaan's lightsaber sliced through the front of a broken down speeder bike, and soon he was walking towards Amira with a pair of mostly-straight metal poles about 30 inches long, each about an inch in diameter. "To give your injured leg more support" he explained, sacrificing part of his outer robe to splint her injured ankle with if she allowed him to. With a splint in place, Amira's pain would be lessened when she walked.

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

From the grin that spread across the Togruta's face, it was evident that he was pleased with himself and with the retort he'd managed to come up with on the spot. Amira couldn't help but chuckle along with him, shaking her head softly but not with any sign of disdain or annoyance. Sharp-witted could be added to his growing list of attributes. This little Jedi was full of surprises.

"Of course they couldn't keep their hands off of me," Amira replied without missing a beat, eyes twinkling with amusement. "They're dead, not blind."
The Tiefling watched as Ruzaan dug through the garbage that surrounded them, unsure what he could possibly be up to. Was he rooting around for something to eat? She'd heard something once about Togrutas having three or four stomachs, which was bound to increase anyone's appetite. Still, she couldn't imagine he would find anything worth consuming here, in an abandoned scrapyard.

Togrutas didn't... eat rodents, did they? She cringed at the thought. She hoped not, because that was not something she wanted to witness firsthand. Thankfully, the Jedi produced some piping, to wrap her lower leg in a splint. It was a thoughtful and unexpected gesture, and not something the average person on the street would ever do for a complete stranger. And yet, it made the Champion feel slightly uncomfortable. Guilty, perhaps? Would he even be helping her if he knew what she was, what she did?

"Thanks," she eventually replied without any real enthusiasm. He was right. They couldn't stay here forever, and every minute that passed was one less minute they had to escape. There was still at least five to six hours until daybreak, and with any luck, they wouldn't be here to watch the sun rise on the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa. Using the speeder bike for support, she pushed herself into a standing position and wobbled forward, her movements growing more steady with every step. The splint, although crude, was already helping. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Although Amira didn't seem to be all that excited about the makeshift splint, it did seem to help her comfort levels a bit- and, perhaps more importantly, her mobility. Ruzaan hovered nearby until it seemed she had gotten used to the splint before pushing ahead about 10 meters in front of Amira in order to scout their path. At least his banter had gone over well, and Amira's retort only caused his smile to widen.

The second block was, mercifully, just as uneventful as the first one had been. No zombies appeared and nothing else tried to kill them, which was a victory as far as Ruzaan was concerned. Their short respite, while helpful, had done little to ease the fatigue that he felt, and as he walked Ruzaan tried to shake his worries about how he was going to defend himself and Amira in the event of another attack. He had very little stamina left, and if he passed out again...

A sudden burst of blasterfire in the distance made him jump, but it was out of sight and not aimed at either of them. Still, Ruzaan decided to move a little more cautiously, peeking carefully around the corner of a building one block from the refueling spire. The base of the structure came into view, its top reaching impossibly high into the polluted atmosphere of Nar Shadda. Bright lights shone around the entrance to the refueling station, illuminating immediate surroundings. The area around the spire looked something like a no-man's land; flat and open, with structures demolished so as to provide minimal cover and maximum overwatch.

The Togruta mentally kicked himself for assuming that simply making it to the spire would provide safety; this was Nar Shadda- why wouldn't the important resources be controlled by a cartel or gang? Ruzaan waited for Amira to catch up to him, before indicating the half dozen well-armed humanoids standing as if on guard at the base of the spire; mercenaries or other hired guns, if Ruzaan had to guess. At least he and Amira hadn't been spotted yet. "How do you want to do this?" he whispered to Amira.

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Just when Amira thought they were in the home stretch, life threw another curveball their way. At least this one wasn't covered in blood and dried viscera. Yet. Mercenaries. Hired guns. Goons. Call them what you will—they were criminals. There was no doubt about that. They'd probably been siphoning gas or stealing ships ever since the lower levels had been abandoned. Or perhaps they were using the bottommost levels for a base of operations. Frankly, Amira didn't really care. All she knew was that they were in her way, and that was a dangerous place to be. She was out of patience.

The Tiefling ducked behind a barrel as soon as they drew closer, hovering behind it but never full crouching down for fear that she might aggravate her ankle. "Quietly," was all she said at first, peeking out from behind the barrel to get a better look. Portable construction and high-mast lights had been set up around the refueling spire's main entrance on the ground floor, with makeshift barricades and barbed wire crudely wrapped around the perimeter to keep the undead at bay. There were at least six of them, all armed with rifles and blasters. She and Ruzaan would need to get closer to strike, otherwise they'd be sitting ducks. She doubted those rifles were set to stun.
At least the Jedi didn't insist they try negotiating or sweet talking their way into the station to avoid any bloodshed. In situations like these, it was always best to shoot first and ask questions later. If ever. "You go left. I'll go right." That concluded her plan, and the Tiefling shrunk away without another word or so much as a whispered "be careful," disappearing in the darkness. She used the criminal's own barricades to conceal her movements, ducking behind one before moving to the next whenever their backs were turned. As she stole across the pavement, her mind raced. In the end, she realized that there was no way around it: she'd have to use her lightsaber. If her ankle wasn't injured, if her Matukai wasn't rusty, perhaps not. But as things were? The jig was up.

Three of the men had gathered in a circle, talking amongst themselves as they passed around a bottle of liquor. Easy pickings. Amira reached for her lightsaber, unsure where Ruzaan was but hoping that he'd spring into action as soon as she did. Without any warning, the Champion leapt out from behind cover, her scarlet lightsaber coming to life in her hands. She didn't hesitate, and her opponents were given no opportunity to react or reach for the rifles they had so foolishly allowed to fall limp at their sides. The blade cut through them in one fell swoop, cleaving their diaphragms from their upper torsos.

A fourth man came running, smart enough to keep his distance as he opened fire on the Tiefling. Red blaster bolts peppered the ground around her, a single bolt that she'd been unable to deflect grazing her left arm. She winced, but thrust her left hand out, seizing the sharpshooter from where he stood and jerking him forward with the force. He struggled against her pull, flailing his arms and legs, his screams indiscernible and muffled beneath the helmet he wore, but she ran him through, and he fell silent and still at last.

Then she turned, the gunmen still skewered on her blade like a limp ragdoll, staring across toward Ruzaan, awaiting his reaction and his inevitable attack. The masquerade was up.

Dice Roll for Amira's Attack: 13/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan had been considering some kind of parlay or other means of approaching the thugs, but Amira clearly had a different idea; but to what end, the Togruta wasn't sure. Was she planning to ditch him? Did she expect their chances to be easier if they were sneaking in alone? Were they going to sneak around the spire and approach from a different angle? The Togruta stared at Amira's receding form in the darkness, then wordlessly began moving the direction that Amira had indicated. Not for the first time, Ruzaan rued the exhaustion that had settled over him like a cloud, which stymied his attempts to easily connect to the Force.

Then, without warning, Amira's red blade snapped into existence. She's a Sith! In the moment, his fatigue worked in his favor as the sudden shock of the revelation fell upon a brain unwilling to fully process the emotions that came along with the revelation. But also, with the subtle and insidious presence of the Dark side now exposed, he could more easily guard himself against its effects. The knowledge allowed to center himself and to pierce through the haze hanging over his connection to the Force.

And once again, the Force became his ally.

Strength and stamina rushed back into his weary form; not a permanent solution, but effective. The Togruta sprinted forward, taking advantage of Amira's distraction to close the distance between himself and the remaining two guards. Leaping off of a barricade, the Padawan lashed out with one foot and felt his boot connect with one of the guards' faces. The man crumpled to the ground, out cold. Ruzaan landed and rolled with his momentum, his lightsaber igniting in his hand as he completed his roll and moving to bat away the blaster bolts aimed in his direction by the sixth and final guard. Two steps forward was all it took to close the distance to melee range, and soon the guard was holding just half of his blaster as Ruzaan's blue blade sliced through it and rendered it inoperable.

Both ends of the blaster clattered to the ground within seconds of each other as the remaining guard- a human with greasy black hair- made a business decision and raised his hands in surrender. "Don't kill me!" the man pleaded, staring more at Amira than Ruzaan; the Sith's gruesome display still fresh on his mind.

"We won't" said Ruzaan quickly, just in case Amira had different ideas. The Togruta angled himself so that the Tiefling was in his peripheral vision. Furthermore, he realized with some shame, they'd attacked without discerning the nature of this place. There was no such thing as a legitimate business on Nar Shadda, but there was a lot about this refueling spire they didn't know. Now four guards lay dead and another unconscious, and for what?

"Who owns this spire?" the padawan asked as the unconscious guard's radio squawked; no doubt asking for a report. The radio also brought Ruzaan's attention to something else near the guard. The Togruta bent down and picked up a security fob off of the ground; one that reminded him of Arctus' keys for his ship. "And where can we find this ship?"

To Amira, he shot a look that wavered between caution, disappointment, and betrayal. "We'll talk later." Like it or not, they still needed each other's help if they were going to get off of this rock.


((OOC: Rolled a 20/20 for Ruz's attack))
@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

The Togruta moved with the same agility and dexterity that he had exhibited earlier in the warehouse, when she had first realized that he was a Jedi. His youthful face suggested that he was only a Padawan, but it was hard to believe that he was anything less than a Knight, even when taking into consideration that embarrassing force healing fiasco.

Now the two of them were on even footing, a Jedi and a Sith both on their guard, wary of one another and the other's motives now that they both realized the other's true identity. Now it was only a matter of time until Ruzaan would attack her. Did he intend to take her as his prisoner? To drag her before the Jedi Council for judgment? Or was it his intention to play judge, jury, and executioner right here on Nar Shaddaa? He needed her, for now. But later? When he didn't?

It didn't matter. Amira would never allow later to come. The moment he raised his blade against her, the moment that familiar glint of loathing flashed across slate eyes, she would rise to the challenge. Amira would make it off this planet alive, and she would not hesitate to strike him down where he stood if it meant saving her own life. They were at war, and he was the enemy. The first rule of war was simple, in theory: never trust the enemy.

"Yes, mom," the Tiefling hissed in return, as if she wasn't bothered by the look of betrayal that flashed across his face.
For the last conscious guard, mental manipulation would not be necessary. He was already scared witless, teetering on the edge of collapsing in front of them or making a break for it. He was in no position to bargain for his life. All he could do was beg, and that was exactly what he did. A safe bet, considering the Jedi had already lowered his blade and promising not to kill him. So predictable.

"I don't know! It's abandoned," he answered right away, mouth quivering. "I just do as I'm told!"

Amira took a single step forward, dragging the lifeless body of his associate along with her. "So who's calling the shots?"

Instinctually, the man scooted closer to Ruzaan, as if to remind the Jedi of the promise he had made. "Deejjas! Deejjas the Hutt!" He pointed up, toward two bay doors eight or nine stories up. "The ship—it's up there."

Amira considered the man, amber eyes raking over his face. He was far too terrified to lie to them, but just in case... "Answer them." With the tip of her boot, she kicked the guard's portable radio toward him. He picked it up immediately, thick fingers shaking as they fumbled to press the right button.

"Copy. Disregard that last transmission."

With that, the walkie talkie began to curl in on itself, plastic and metal both compressing until it fell from his hands in pieces. Amira swept her hand toward the spire behind them. "Now lead the way."

While the guard shuffled past them, the Tiefling stared at Ruzaan, hesitant to lower her blade. They would need to sneak up on the rest of the criminals undoubtedly scattered throughout the fuel station, and a bright, glowing lightsaber wasn't exactly subtle. Eventually, the blade deactivated, and the body impaled on its plasma collapsed in a heap. Amira turned away, stepping over the corpse and moving toward the spire.

Like it or not, they needed each other. Hopefully Ruzaan wasn't so blinded by Jedi indoctrination that he couldn't see that. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Thoughts whirled through Ruzaan's brain, almost faster than he could process them. He felt safer with Amira- she was likely a strong Force user, judging by her easily dispatching four guards- but her status as a Sith threw him off. As she stepped forward during her interrogation of the remaining guard, the body of one of the other guards still impaled on her crimson lightsaber, Ruzaan was reminded of the stark differences between Jedi and Sith; differences that had historically and currently led to war between the two factions.

There was no compromising with the Dark Side; Ruzaan knew that much. Anyone who thought that they were immune to its corruption was lying to themselves. Still, Ruzaan found it difficult to fully imagine the Tiefling standing across from him as an enemy. Not only had she shown more personality than many of the Jedi he knew, she'd could've killed him multiple times since he'd revealed himself as a Jedi... so why hadn't she? That realization was enough to convince the Togruta to reluctantly extinguish his lightsaber, belatedly also realizing that it might be easier to infliltrate the compound if he wasn't waving it around.

The fact that he hadn't heard of Deejjas the Hutt meant little. Even minor Hutts, if the term 'minor' was at all appropriate for the species, had seemingly infinite resources. Walking into a Hutt's property on Nar Shadda wasn't typically a good idea, and they'd probably have to make it past a lot of cartel members before reaching the ship. However, stealing from a Hutt seemed practically safe when compared to running from AMS zombies.

Cautiously, Ruzaan entered the main level of the refueling spire... or, at least, part of it. The building was, he realized, massive. There had to be several dozen Hutt cartel members inside of it, but fortunately the lobby the trio found themselves in was empty. Ruzaan could hear the sounds of an argument over a card game from an adjacent room, but otherwise there was no sign of any opposition.

"We'll have to take the stairs" whispered the guard, still eyeing Amira nervously and hedging towards Ruzaan. "Deejjas refitted the turbrolifts to move him around, so they're under his control and won't work even if we try to call it."

Ruzaan tried not to let his disappointment show- he'd been looking forward to an easy ride to the docked ship- but now there was at least 8 levels of stairs to climb before Amira would likely try to kill him. Also, given the guard's answer, the stairs would likely be in higher demand than usual, increasing their chances of being discovered. "What's on the next floor?" he whispered back.

Another glance toward Amira; clearly, her grisly display earlier had been effective. "Security center and barracks" came the answer. "Followed by one of the... clubs"

Ruzaan had no idea why the guard had paused before naming the establishment on the third story, but that was a problem for later- first, they had to make it past the second level where the guards were more likely to be on alert. "After you" he motioned towards the stairs, allowing the guard to take the lead and deciding to risk showing his back to Amira by going second. For now, at least, she probably needed him.

((OOC: Rolled a 14/20 for first level))

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Hutts? Again? As if she hadn't had enough trouble with them today, now she would need to steal a ship from one if she wanted to get off this zombie infested rock. At least her conscious wouldn't bother her, as the Hutt, and by extension his goons, had it coming. No matter how many dirty looks her Jedi companion might throw her way, she'd never met an honest Hutt in her life, and their hired thugs were no different.

Call it a fool's paradise, but Samara had held out hope for a lift ride up to the ninth floor. She shouldn't have been surprised, given it was a Hutt calling the shots, but she still couldn't help the longing glance she threw as they bypassed the lifts. At least nine flights of stairs awaited them, and with a busted ankle, too.

The Tiefling blew out a puff of air, her only indication of complaint as she followed the other two up the steps. Her lightsaber she kept in hand, still not convinced they could trust their newfound "friend." If he'd turn on his employer on a dime, he would do the same thing to them as soon as the opportunity presented itself. And as for the Jedi—the one thing she could count on, was his predictability. Their blades would cross eventually. That much she realized, but for some odd and unexplainable reason, she found herself wishing against all hope that she was wrong. That he was...different. As if. Between the horns and the red blade, she had to be nothing less than a monster in his eyes.

Those thoughts were pushed aside, as she cared more about getting out of here alive. For now, they had other, more pressing problems. It was distant at first, and she wondered if she was just hearing things, allowing her imagination to get the best of her. Then the door on the first floor swung open with a loud creak, and the groans of the undead were unmistakable. The Champion peered over the metal railing, her braided hair sliding over her shoulder. They poured into the stairwell like water from a dam, stumbling over each other in their race to reach the trio, blood-rimmed eyes staring up at the Tiefling.

Amira said nothing, wrenching open the door to the second floor. She had hoped to avoid the barracks altogether, but they had no other choice now. They couldn't outrun the hoard forever, especially with her twisted ankle. "Inside," she ordered impatiently, pushing the two men in and closing the door behind them. There was no lock, so they had precious little time to barricade the door or make a run for it. At least the guards were not yet aware of their presence.
Dice Roll: Sneaking onto the second floor 13/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan was somewhat surprised to hear his mental groans at having to take the stairs echoed out loud... until he realized that it was the sound of zombies breaching the refueling spire. "Inside" he agreed with Amira, shuffling in on the heels of the guard they'd captured.

As much as he'd liked to have rallied the guards and led a defense of the second floor, Ruzaan reminded himself that these were Hutt-employed guards, and thus neither trustworthy nor particularly deserving of defense. While not everyone who worked for the Hutts did so by their own choice, the majority of those willingly-employed gravitated towards the slugs out of a common desire to hold power over others. The Togruta also reminded himself, as much for his own frazzled state of mind as anything, that by that same logic not everyone in this refueling spire would be hostile towards them. The level they were currently on, however, was full of Hutt loyalists.

The zombies' entrance had, at least, redirected the attention of the guards sitting at the consoles. Buttons were frantically pushed, alarms were sounded, and walkie-talkies were shouted into, but the general scene was enough chaos for the three to sneak by. Their captured guard- Ruzaan decided to call him Sam- led them towards another set of stairs that were hopefully not infested with zombies. As before Sam and Ruzaan led the way, with Amira bringing up the rear- her leg had to be killing her- and they made it to the next stairwell with no issue as the zombies breached the door leading to the second level.

The sounds of blasters firing behind them punctuated their exit as the trio climbed the stairs to the third level. Just as Ruzaan reached for the door, it opened, with several guards pushing past with blasters in hand. One stopped, however, blaster leveled at Ruzaan and Amira from point-blank range. "Hey! What are you doing here?" he barked.

Ruzaan, his mind running low on ideas and even lower on brain cells, pointed to the sign next to the door to the 3rd level. "Club?" he offered with weak smile, but the guard wasn't fooled; perhaps because, behind Ruzaan's back, Sam was ratting him out with a less-than-subtle shake of his head.

The consequences were swift. The guard at the top of the stairs pulled the trigger, sending a stun bolt into Ruzaan from point-blank range. The muzzle swung towards Amira as the Togruta's semi-conscious body sagged against the railing, sending an identical bolt towards Amira. The confrontation had already gone south for the would-be ship thieves; only the Sith's reactions would determine just how poorly this encounter went.


((OOC: Rolled a 7/20 for bluff; minor fail))

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Ruzaan had to be the worst liar she'd ever met, and that was really saying something because she had met a lot of liars in her twenty-two years of life. Amira stared at him with an incredulous look on her face, blinking repeatedly. She couldn't believe that he had actually tried to convince the guard that they were here for the Hutt club. Whatever that was. How old was he anyway? Sixteen? Seventeen, at the most?

Naturally, the guard didn't buy it, and he opened fire. A blaster bolt struck the Togruta in the gut, and Amira couldn't help but gasp—for reasons unknown, even to her. One cursory glance in the Jedi's direction revealed that it had only been a stun bolt, as there was no wound or burns on his clothing. At least this one was playing nice, but Amira had no intention of returning the favor.

The Champion only had a second or two to react before the blaster was leveled at her. Deflecting it was out of the question, as it would just dissipate and leave her feeling sick. There wasn't time to jump out of the way either, so she did the next best thing—grabbed their informant by the collar, dragging him in front of her just in time to collide with two stun bolts.

He toppled over at Ruzaan's feet, out cold. By that time, Amira had already reached a hand out, tearing the blaster from the guard's hands and snapping it in half. Without every laying a finger on him, she picked him up and flung him over the railing as you might toss trash into the receptacle. He screamed the whole way down—a little dramatic for a two story fall. What was the worst that could happen?

The guard might have been disposed of, but her problems were far from over. Ruzaan was still propped against the railing, stuck somewhere between consciousness and comatose. She could've left him there if she'd wanted, but that never even occurred to her.

"Come on, you idiot," she sighed in a frustrated tone, slipping her arms around his chest and dragging him up the remaining stairs to the third floor landing. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Here she was, with a twisted ankle, carrying a Jedi to safety. She groaned beneath the weight of him. "Sod it. You're a lot heavier than you look."
This wasn't going to work, not long term. She couldn't drag him up the remaining flights, and as the blaster fire below faded, gradually replaced with the screams of dying men, it was only a matter of time until zombies were hot on their tail again. She kicked the third floor's door open, still dragging Ruzaan behind her.

Dice Roll: dodge stun bolt 15/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan once again found himself a passenger in his own story as he struggled to remain conscious in the stairwell while Amira dispatched the two guards. At first he struggled faintly against her grip- fearing that she was going to toss him down the stairs as well in order to slow the zombies down- but to his surprise, she began supporting him up the stairs onto the third level. Perhaps she was holding him in reserve to sacrifice later; whatever the case, Ruzaan wasn't about to complain. "Thank you" he said, his words slightly slurred.

Then Amira opened the door, and the Togruta immediately wished that Amira had left him behind as a wave of hot, humid air hit him in the face. The scene in front of him explained the faint tish tish tish he'd heard earlier in the most horrifying way possible. He'd expected some sort of dance club- even the kind where the dancers wore very little- but nothing could've prepared him for the sight of several Hutts slovenly sliding across the dance floor underneath a disco ball, while side lighting in cool colors threw shadows across the walls and floor.

That was before one even considered the smell.

Moisture- far more than normal- gleamed on the skin of the girthy dancers, which explained much of the foul odor. The sickly sweet smell of hookah pipes only added to the unpleasant ambience. The rest of the stench came from the various teams of attendants on the sidelines of the dance floor, which appeared to function like pit crews, lavishing attention and oils on their charges whenever they needed a break.

Horrified, Ruzaan came to a conclusion; this was an intimate dance club... for Hutts. "Bad" the Togruta mumbled, quiet enough that perhaps only Amira could hear. "Leave."

At least the assault on his senses had served enough to begin to rouse him from the stupor caused by the stun bolts. While still a little wobbly on his feet, he was able to wiggle enough to let Amira know that he could walk on his own. The hookah smoke and dim lighting that made it difficult to make out clear details would provide a semblance of cover for the unlikely allies as they tried to find the next set of stairs. Ruzaan pointed with a shaky finger- it was all the way on the other side of the room, of course. "There."

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Sweat and hookah smoke amalgamated into something altogether saccharine and stomach-turning. No air circulated around the room, and the smells and smoke settled over the room like an oppressive, wet blanket. Sultry, if Amira had to guess, was probably the desired effect, but it was anything but. She felt as if she might pass out from a heat stroke at any second, her clothing already damp and suffocating.

The Tiefling could only imagine what must have been going through the young Togruta's mind at that moment. A goody two shoes like him, the most scandalous thing he'd probably ever done was put a tack on a Jedi Master's seat. This eye-opening experience would make his lekku curl and wither. Even Amira, advanced in both age and experience, had never been more tempted to pry her own eyeballs out and soak them in a bowl of bleach for a few hours.

To each side of the room stood a pair of guards, clutching their rifles and observing the exits. Two of them were staring directly at the Tiefling, and at Ruzaan, as if they already knew the pair wasn't supposed to be here. The rest of the guards were crowded around a table playing a game of sabacc, half-clothed Twi'leks hovering beside them, arms slung over their shoulders, laughing at the guard's bad jokes and building up their insufferable egos. In spite of the way they threw their heads back with laughter, it was obvious that they were bored out of their minds. Amira could see it in their eyes.

"Just... try to look as inconspicuous as possible, alright? Blend in." She swiped two drinks from the tray of a serving droid as it passed, the dark, foaming liquid bubbling and sputtering as she thrust one of them into Ruzaan's hands. She was surprised the droids hadn't rusted with all the moisture in the air. Even the glasses were sticky. "Here. Drink this." He could probably use it after taking that stun bolt to the gut. Not to mention it would make the scenery more bearable.
It never occurred to the Tiefling that he'd probably never had a drink a day in his life as she threw hers back, the lukewarm liquid burning the whole way down. They needed to get across the room, without drawing the suspicion of the guards still eyeing them, while avoiding the Hutts and other dancers scattered across the dance floor like chess pieces. Amira and Ruzaan were, for the time being, blocked pawns.

"Do you know how to dance?" Amira asked the Togruta suddenly, grabbing ahold of his hand and tugging his toward the dance floor. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan didn't want to look at what was going on around them, so he tried to focus on Amira instead. Still unsure as to why she didn't just ditch him and run for it by herself, he tried to interpret her words through the haze of the stun bolt and the room. In... con...?

"Drink" he agreed, hardly caring that the glass stuck to his fingers slightly as he lifted it to his lips and drank. It was sweet at first, then fiery, but it did nothing to lift the fog that had settled on his brain; if anything, it made it worse. (Alcohol roll: 6) "Dance?" he mumbled, hoping that Amira wasn't suggesting that he try to perform for one of the Hutts. "Leave" he protested, but like it or not Amira was his best ticket out of here, so he reluctantly followed her towards the dance floor. As they approached he covered his eyes with his free hand to avoid witnessing any more of the Hutt conga line that had formed. Some things were better left unseen...

As they were reaching the edge of the dance floor, the Togruta felt his hand slip out of Amira's; the extreme humidity in the room now covering them as well. A hand soon grabbed his and he obediently followed, until it pulled him into a dancing position with more conviction than he'd expected from Amira. Startled, he looked up into the face of a Twi'lek dancer. "A new face! What a treat!" she said. "Oh, I'll take excellent care of you!" (Stealth roll: 6)

Ruzaan didn't like the way her smile looked like she was sizing him up as a hunter sized up its prey, but there was precious little he could do about besides glance around and hope Amira hadn't been similarly discovered. "You look like you could use a rest" the dancer purred, studying his wobbly demeanor, "Come with me." Ruzaan felt himself being pulled away from the dance floor, towards the eastern side of the room. The exit was on the northern side, and Ruzaan tugged himself in that direction, but the Twi'lek's grip was like iron. Where was Amira?

((Dance roll: 10?))

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

The plan was simple and straightforward. Dance across the room, avoid suspicion by blending in, and duck out the side door at the northern end of the room and climb the remaining flights of stairs. Preferably before the dance club turned into an open buffet and the sweat and alcohol that lined the walls was replaced with blood spatter and chunks of brain matter.

After twenty-two years of life, Amira should have known that nothing is ever simple. Not even dancing. The pair of Force users hadn't even made it halfway across the dancefloor when Ruzaan's limp, sweaty hand slipped from hers, and by the time she had turned to grab hold of it again, he was already being drug away by a Twi'lek dancer, more interested in the potential credits he carried in his pants than anything else. The Togruta looked like an easy mark—young, presumably gullible, and completely out of it. To anyone else, it probably looked like was wasted.

Amira growled in the back of her throat, her fists clenched at her sides, as she took a step forward to intervene and tell the Twi'lek to get off or get offed. A nearby Hutt had other plans, however, and a green, stubby arm slipped around her waist and pulled her close, pressing the Tiefling against his wrinkled skin. Amira could practically feel the slime and the sweat clinging to her clothing, tainting it. She resolved that, should she make it out of here alive, to use every article of clothing she wore for kindling.

"I like your horns," he croaked, a live paddy frog struggling to escape his mouth, its fingered feet emerging just long enough to taste freedom before being sucked back in again by the Hutt's massive tongue. "Are they real?"
"Of course they are," Amira all but spat before she caught the eye of a nearby guard, still watching her. Her hands, already in place atop the Hutt's shoulder rolls to hold him in position while she ran him through with her horns, gradually slid away. She added, her tone adopting an unnatural purr to it, "I'd love to show you just how real they are." And she would've, too, if it wasn't for all the security hovering around the room, just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

"Would you now?" the Hutt chuckled, his enormous, mottled body shaking with raucous laughter, drawing the attention of some of the other dancers. He led her further away from Ruzaan, his sluggish form gyrating to the beat in ways Amira would not have thought possible. He was, without a doubt, the worst dancing partner she'd ever had. "My brother owns this place, you know."

Amira was hardly listening, amber eyes glancing over her should every few seconds to check on Ruzaan, and to make sure that Twi'lek hadn't drug him off to some side room to strip him of everything he owned. It never crossed her mind to wonder why she cared, other than that they needed each other to get out of here.

"A pretty face like yours... I bet I could get you a job—"

Then there was an ear-splitting crash, as the door she and the Jedi had come through only moments ago fell from its hinges, and zombies poured into the room. That was Amira's cue to leave, and to formally decline the job offer. Without warning or second thought, she raked her horns across the Hutt's face, tearing the skin away and drawing blood. That paddy frog finally slid down his gullet as he cried out in pain, green, leathery hands instinctively covering the scratches across his face, where he would be scarred for life. However long that lasted.

The security guards were far too preoccupied scrambling to defend against the onslaught of zombies to worry about one lone Tiefling, and Amira slipped into the crowd, all of them panicking and running for the nearest exit, searching for Ruzaan. @SlagathorTheUnknown