Ask Nar Shaddaa Back to Back

[Ruzaan Kai]

As Ruzaan was pulled off the dance floor, he thought he caught a glimpse of Amira dancing with a Hutt. Suddenly, being pulled aside by a Twi'lek he didn't know didn't seem so bad, but his sluggish brain hardly had time to process that thought before he was trying to make out what the pink Twi'lek was saying next.

"You look overheated" she said, running her hands along his shoulders and upper arms and tugging slightly at his outer robe. Ruzaan had to concede that his current attire was not suitable for the humidity and heat of the room; no wonder the humanoid dancers weren't wearing much in the way of clothing. The drink wasn't helping, either, leaving him flushed and warm inside.

"Warm" Ruzaan acknowledged, and with more than a little help from the Twi'lek's his outer robe was removed.

"Oh! Armor!" giggled the Twi'lek now running her hands across his upper chest and feeling the duraplast plates located there. Ruzaan was confused; why all the fuss about what he was wearing? He wasn't commenting on the her clothing... or lack thereof. The Twi'lek began trying to remove his light chestplate, too, but Ruzaan resisted enough that she pouted a little and conceded the point. "You want to keep that on for now? That's ok, we can still enjoy ourselves." Ruzaan had just enough time to wonder what that meant before she tried a different tactic.

Delicate hands came up to his shoulders again, and with a quick shove Ruzaan found himself tripping backwards and onto a wide purple cushion about knee-high. He no sooner had hit the cushion as the Twi'lek was on top of him, sitting on his stomach and grinning down at him. "Just relax and enjoy yourself!" she advised, looking at him as if he was the luckiest Togruta in the galaxy.

Ruzaan froze, feeling quite uncomfortable with the situation that he found himself in as realization washed over him. None of his Jedi training had prepared him for this, but the Twi'lek seemed more than happy to take the lead. She placed his left hand on her hip and interlaced her left hand with his right, leaving her right free to reach behind her back begin exploring his inner thigh.

She hadn't gotten far before she found something long and hard below just his belt.

"Lightsaber" Ruzaan agreed, blinking up at the Twi'lek's startled expression; she'd found a guardian at the gate. Grateful that she hadn't activated either of the firing studs, he tried once again to gently move the Twi'lek off of him; this time, she let him. "Go?" he asked, still only capable of one-word utterances.

The Twi'lek nodded quietly, still processing her discovery, leaving room for him to stand up and head back to the dance floor. Ruzaan felt a little bad about leaving the cushion- it was the most comfortable thing he'd seen since arriving on Nar Shadda- but he and Amira had to keep moving.

As it was, they'd overstayed their unwelcome. The door burst open and in came a whole host of party crashers, which ruined whatever ambience the club had any claim to. "Go!" urged Ruzaan to the Twi'lek, pointing towards the North side of the room where humanoids not fighting with the zombies were trying to go. The assembled Hutts wailed, cursed in their native language, and oozed towards the repulsorlift entrance; the only exit available to them. Pushing the Twi'lek ahead of him, Ruzaan began making his way towards the stairway on the North side of the room, hoping that Amira would also find her way there.


@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

"Seize her!" the Hutt could be heard screaming, ordering his minions around from somewhere behind her, either too stupid or too oblivious to realize that he had bigger problems at the moment. A fat, immobile creature like him could be the equivalent of a massive Life Day turkey to a group of starving undead. And thanks to Amira, there was even some cranberry sauce drizzled on top. Yum.

Amber eyes never stopped scanning the crowd as she pushed terrified clubgoers out of her way, stepped over spilled hookahs and glasses of alcohol, and leapt over card tables to cutoff the crowd—searching for that short, red-faced Togruta. Eventually, she spotted him, ducking out the northern exit with the same pink Twi'lek that he'd been dancing with earlier. At least he had enough good sense left to head for the stairwell.

If the guttural roars of the undead and the screams of the living hadn't been growing louder with every step that she took, she might have taken the time to tease him. Say something along the lines of Get a room, or I thought all you Jedi were celibate, just to get a rise out of him, but there was no time for that. Instead, she retorted, "Now isn't the time to bring your girlfriend along."

There she turned to the Twi'lek and said, in no uncertain terms, the Hutt's blood still dripping from her horns, "Get lost." She grabbed ahold of Ruzaan's wrist and tugged him toward the stairs. They couldn't afford dead weight. She would only slow them down, and she had legs like the rest of them. Let her find her own way out. It was every man and woman for themselves.

Dice Roll: make it out of the hutt club 13/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan had never been so relieved to see a Sith in his entire life as when he heard Amira's voice cutting through the panic and chaos to criticize him. Momentarily, her bloody horns made him afraid that she'd been injured, but the Tiefling didn't seem to be in any more pain than he'd last seen her.

"Single" he mumbled in response to Amira's accusations of having a girlfriend, not quite understanding the sarcasm.

The Twi'lek didn't seem as pleased to see Amira, though, especially given the Tiefling's less-than-cordial reaction to their presence. "We're all going the same direction" she hissed, shooting the Sith what Ruzaan guessed was a rude gesture, "in case you hadn't noticed." The pink-skinned Twi'lek's playful demeanor had vanished, and Ruzaan

The smells of panic and blood began to outweigh those of hookah and Hutt, helping Ruzaan's mind sharpen and focus on the situation at hand... and the chance to banter with Amira. "Where's your date?" he asked the Tiefling, finally finding himself capable of stringing together multiple words. "You're just jealous."

Leaving some of the screaming and chaos behind, he followed the Twi'lek up the stairs to the fourth level. The Togruta was hoping that this level might be something more pleasant than the previous floor, but it wouldn't be Nar Shadda without yet another challenge. The door swung open and he gagged as more distasteful smells hit his nose.

This was the kitchen.

((OOC: Rolled 3 for Twi'lek reaction, 16 for Ruz waking up))
@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

This was certainly a fine time for Ruzaan to progress beyond one word sentences. Amira stared at the Togruta with a pinched expression that spoiled her dark features. "Jealous?" she repeated, practically barking at the suggestion as she gestured to the Twi'lek at Ruzaan's side. "Of her?" Critical eyes scrutinized the Twi'lek—a good four to five years older than the Jedi, if she had to wager a guess. Her skin was a lovely, pale shade of pink, and her eyes shone, even under the stairwell's poor lighting. She was attractive, Amira would give her that, and she could see the appeal, particularly for someone as young and inexperienced as the Togrtua, but she was hardly in the same class as Amira, and the Champion knew it.
"I date men. Not little boys." With that, she marched up the stairs. "Some of us have enough sense not to pick up strangers while being chased by zombies. I guess they don't teach you anything about self-restraint at that Jedi academy of yours, do they?" Maybe the Order was a real sausage festival these days and the Togruta was willing to throw himself at the first girl that batted her eyelashes at him. Amira didn't know, and she didn't particularly care, as long as it didn't get her killed.

Reluctantly, the Sith would leave it at that. The Twi'lek could come along if Ruzaan was so determined to play the part of the dashing young hero for her, just as long as she didn't get in the way. But then the dancer had to go and open those big, plump lips of hers. The Tiefling was already peeved—first with that handsy Hutt and now with Ruzaan's teenage hormones clouding any sliver of judgement the Order hadn't stripped him of. This was the last straw.

Almost to the top of the stairs, the Champion rounded on the Twi'lek to throw her shoulder into her, but the dancer wasn't as dumb as she looked, and she was quicker on her feet than Amira would have given her credit for. Literally. She worked in a Hutt club, after all—self-defense was practically in the job description. She dug her high heel into the Tiefling's ankle—the same one she'd twisted earlier—and the Tiefling crumbled like one of Great Aunt Tessie's dry, over-mixed cookies. Amira tumbled down the flight of stairs she'd just climbed, smacking her head into the wall.

The Twi'lek stood at the top of the stairs, a satisfied smirk plastered across her face, so prominent that even Amira could make it out, in spite of her blurred vision and throbbing head. By the time she'd used the railing to pull herself up, the Twi'lek had already pushed Ruzaan through the door. Amira had underestimated her. That was a mistake, and not one that she would make again. She limped after them, the pain in her ankle more prominent than ever, and threw open the door.

Were she not Chaos bent on bashing in that pink, sickly sweet face, Amira might have gagged at the fetid foods and their instantaneous assault on her senses. A Hutt's diet was... peculiar, to say the least. The emergency alarm sounded, and the kitchen spiraled into chaos, just as the club downstairs had moments earlier. The kitchen staff abandoned their duties—paddie frog soups and stacks and stacks of dirty dishes and beelined for the nearest exits.

Amira, however, only had eyes for the Twi'lek, and without every breaking eye contact, a frying pan flew into the Champion's right hand. That harpy was going down.

Dice Roll: Amira's attack on the twi'lek 4/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan's left eye twitched as Amira called him a little boy; a reoccurring theme was emerging in his life where anyone 18 and older liked to lord it over those who were not. Biting back a retort, something along the lines of, "Well, I picked you up while running from zombies", he entered the kitchen; his senses reeling from the foul odors of fine Hutt cuisine to the point that he barely registered that something -or, more accurately, someone- had gone bump bump bump down the stairs behind him.

It was only after the alarm sounded in the kitchen and Ruzaan looked around for his ally-by-chance that he realized Amira hadn't entered the kitchen right behind him and the Twi'lek. Instead, Amira was nowhere to be seen and the Twi'lek's smile was almost as wide as it had been after she'd pushed him onto the afghan a few minutes ago. "What did you do?" he asked, worried for Amira's safety. There was no way he'd let her get the final word in their ongoing spat.

The Twi'lek's smile grew. "I just did you a favor" she replied. Suddenly, her body tensed as she caught sight of something over his shoulder. "Aww, shit." Ruzaan wheeled around to see what she was looking at, and immediately realized that standing between Amira and this Twi'lek was perhaps the most dangerous place to be on Nar Shadda at the moment.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any other options. Prep tables hemmed him in on one side, and some sort of oven kept him from moving to his left. That left two options; moving towards Amira, who was wielding a frying pan with lethal intent, or back towards where the Twi'lek was blocking his escape.

The Togruta started raising his hands towards Amira in a placating gesture, seriously doubting his ability to defuse the situation, when the decision was made for him. A pair of hands shoved him suddenly from behind as the Twi'lek pushed him into Amira to try and buy time to escape. Caught off guard, Ruzaan stumbled forward and threw his arms out to catch himself, only to inadvertently grab onto Amira as he did so; his right arm on her left shoulder and his left arm wrapping around her torso just below her ribcage in such a way that the Togruta found himself accidently embracing a very angry Sith.

The "hug" would last for less than a second as Ruzaan was able to get his feet underneath him almost immediately, and he quickly disentangled himself from the Tiefling while the Twi'lek ducked into a nearby emergency exit. His face burned in embarrassment from the unintended contact. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" his words died unspoken as he realized they'd have to sort this out on the run as a zombie burst through the door behind Amira. The Sith would have to choose between vengeance and escape as the door the Twi'lek had taken did not appear to lead up to the next level.


@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

"Don't get in my way," the Champion warned Ruzaan through bared teeth, her expression tense and her muscles taut. If the Togruta thought that he could reconcile the two women, he was even more naïve than Amira gave him credit for. She leveled the frying pan at both of them, hoping it might scare Ruzaan enough to get out of her way before she was forced to make him. Not that she actually would have hit him with it, but he didn't know that—not by the whites of her eyes and the way her nostrils flared.
The Twi'lek had other ideas, however, and none of them involved sticking around long enough to discover first hand just what Amira was capable of. The harpy could dish it out, but she couldn't take it. Ruzaan, her defender and her protector only moments earlier, would now serve as her distraction. She gave the Padawan a good, strong shove, and he stumbled into Amira, wrapping his arms around her to regain his balance.

Amira tottered in place, but her amber eyes remained fixed on the Twi'lek, watching her every move over the Togruta, who, fortunately, was an inch or two shorter than she. The Twi'lek ducked out the nearest emergency exit. Despite the way Ruzaan's face burned with embarrassment as he fumbled over his own words, the Tiefling appeared to be entirely unfazed by the incident. She pushed the Togruta aside, brushing past his arm as she quipped, "Next time you need a hug, do us both a favor—just ask."

This was where their paths would almost certainly part ways—Ruzaan for the stairwell that led up to the next floor, Amira for the emergency exit. She could already hear the Jedi dogma he would undoubtedly spew if given the opportunity. That revenge was never the answer, that it wasn't the way of the Jedi—the usual self-righteous mumbo jumbo they liked to tout. But Amira was no Jedi. She was a Din, and she was a Sith. And no self-respecting Din or Sith backed away from a fight. The Tiefling was madder than a wet hen, and nothing Ruzaan could say would change her mind. She wasn't going to allow that Twi'lek to waltz away scot-free, not after what she had done.

She strode past Ruzaan, shoulders limbering, ready for a fight, only to slip on a pool of grease before she could reach the emergency exit. One of the cooks must have spilled it in their haste to leave, and Amira fell flat on her back with an audible smack. Groaning and cursing under her breath, she stared up at the ceiling tiles, before it was replaced by a zombie. It hovered over her, staring down at her with a confused and vacant expression.

Dice Roll: 5/20 for Amira's attack... this lousy Twi'lek is going to be the death of her >_> @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Witty reply aside, Ruzaan didn't need to be an expert on Tiefling nonverbal communication to guess that Amira was strongly considering pursuit of the Twi'lek. If he tried to stop her she'd probably reply with some dumb Sith rules about not showing weakness, murdering your enemies, and vengeance, but as more zombies began making their way into the room his thoughts on the matter were momentarily put on hold.

The Togruta vaulted over a prep table and grabbed at something on the stove. Whumph! Amira would see the snarling zombie's face above her prone figure suddenly replaced by a cast-iron pan that connected solidly with its skull, pausing majestically in the air before returning to Ruzaan's outstretched hand. (Attack roll: 11/20)

"Oh, come on, Amira!" he yelled, swiping at another approaching zombie to keep it at bay as he registered that she'd actually tried to go after the Twi'lek. Why he was fighting with a pan instead of his lightsaber was anyone's guess, but it did make hitting the zombies feel (and sound) more satisfying. "She's not worth it!" Whumph! - another zombie down.

He probably should've stopped his tirade there, but his patience had worn thin. "Are all the Sith this insecure?" Whumph!- he was running out of zombies as he nonetheless made a fighting retreat towards the stairs to the 5th level while yelling at Amira. "What do I need to say for you to pull your head out of your--" whumph! "--so we can get out of here?"

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Amira was furious. Her vision was blurry, her head was throbbing, and her twisted ankle was worse than ever. Her outfit was ruined, to top it all off. Hutt sweat stained the front, and kitchen grease clung to the back. She didn't know which was worse—the sweat or the grease—but there was no doubt about it now: this outfit was destined for the trash bin.

All thanks to Ruzaan's misplaced sense of machoism. Perhaps his desire to help the Twi'lek was born out of something a little deeper than mere attraction—some kind of adherence to that old, outdated Jedi Code of his, but she knew she wouldn't have been lying there on her back if he hadn't insisted on bringing that Twi'lek along with them. She'd warned him, but he hadn't listened. Ma was right. Teenage boys never listened.

Dispatching with the zombie that hovered above her did little to assuage her fury, directed mainly at him now that the Twi'lek had scampered off, but she clambered to her feet all the same, using the kitchen stove to pull herself up. The frying pan she left on the floor, discarded where it had fallen, and reached for her lightsaber instead. Swinging the blade once, it lopped off the heads of the two zombies closest to them, buying them just enough time to reach the stairwell.

"This is all your fault, dipstick," the Tiefling sneered with a downturned mouth, shambling up the steps much slower than she had before. Every step burned. The duo bypassed the fifth floor altogether, coming to a stop at the sixth floor landing. "Sixth floor," she panted, peering over the railing to see infected hot on their tail. "That's where he said the Hutt's ships are, right?" Between the excitement and the pounding in her head, she couldn't remember. They only had a split second to decide—either to ascend to the next level or duck inside. She chose the latter.
There were no ships on the sixth floor. It was a large storage room, and now they were trapped. They needed to hide, and quickly, otherwise they'd have to make their stand here and now.

Dice Roll: Escape the kitchen 11/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

To say that Ruzaan was relieved wasn't accurate; if anything, he was only slightly less grumpy towards Amira as she made the decision to continue their escape instead of tear apart the fleeing Twi'lek. The Togruta would let Amira go first so as to make it all the more difficult to change her mind, and the door behind them slammed shut in the face of a very disappointed zombie. As it was, the door wouldn't hold them for long; being up to code, it was a simple crash bar that was solved by mere momentum.

If only the Tiefling in front of him would move faster. If he hadn't known about her injury, he'd have accused her of purposely trying to get him eaten. "It is not all my fault!" he argued back, almost bumping into Amira as she limped up the stairs. "And what do you mean when you're calling me a dipstick?" He knew the comparison probably wasn't a flattering one, but the metaphor was lost on him. What hadn't been lost were the zombies; he could hear the sounds of snarling and generic zombie noises hot on their tail.

"Come on" he urged, grumpily, pushing aside some of his frustration as he tried to move next to Amira and throw her arm over his shoulder to help support her injured leg as they made their way up the stairs. There was grease covering her back and some sort of slime covering her front- which somehow didn't take away from Amira's good looks- but the Togruta couldn't help but wrinkle his nose as the smells of both hit him. "What did you roll in?" he blurted out, despite himself. "They're probably tracking us by your smell." Ruzaan knew that he probably didn't smell much better, but declined to comment on that.

The staircase ended, leading to another room; but instead of the launching pad he'd been expecting, a large, dimly-lit storage room loomed ahead of them. There had to be an exit somewhere, but it wasn't immediately obvious. "The next level has to be here somewhere..."

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

"A Hutt that was never taught to keep his hands to himself," came the Tiefling's reply, jerking her head away from Ruzaan. She accepted the Padawan's help, albeit begrudgingly. It wasn't like she had a choice in the matter, not when their lives depended on their speed and agility, but her pride and stubborn nature still reared their ugly heads.
It wasn't hard to put two and two together and surmise what had happened to the Hutt, not when there was dried blood on the Tiefling's horns. Amira supposed she should have been grateful that he was willing to help her, particularly after discovering she was a Sith, but she was still miffed, and for the time being, she was going to take that out on Ruzaan.

Another dead end, with no other door in sight. There had to be one somewhere, just like Ruzaan said, if only to keep the building up to fire safety code. That was something the Hutts wouldn't be worried about—the safety of their employees—but this building had once been a refueling station, and had been built long before they'd slid in to claim it for themselves. Their "ownership" was relatively new.

The storage room was large, with row after row of pallet racks, stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Yellow and black forklifts sat unused, collecting dust, while stretch wrap and trash littered the floor. "We don't have time to look for an exit," Amira sighed, not even trying to disguise her impatience. "Come on." She hobbled away from the door, dragging Ruzaan with her, toward an aisle she picked at random.

There the Tiefling ducked behind a large wooden crate that sat in a cluster at the middle of the aisle. Its lid had been pried off, and curled wood shavings used for packing had been thrown all over the floor. Inside of the crate were hundreds of bottles of perfume. Cologne, to be exact, with Emryc Thorne's face plastered on each label.

Of course the Hutts weren't content with just a club—they had to delve into the black market, too. Amira grabbed a bottle and crouched down, dousing herself with a culpable amount of the cologne, before shoving the bottle into Ruzaan's hands for him to do the same. Who knew what it would smell like when combined with a Hutt's body odor and kitchen grease, but it couldn't smell worse than that club downstairs. It would, hopefully, minimize their own body odor. Zombies could only smell human flesh, right? The door swung open, and Amira held her breath.

DIce Roll: Hiding 11/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Well, that explained the blood on Amira's horns. The handsy Hutt had gotten his comeuppance, and Ruzaan for one wasn't going to admonish Amira for defending herself. The Hutt, if they survived the zombie hordes, would certainly have a permanent reminder of how important body autonomy and consent was, even if such concepts were foreign to the species.

Although Ruzaan would've preferred to continue to run and try to make it to the 8th floor, he yielded when Amira steered them behind a crate. He had no idea how the Tiefling was feeling, but he had precious little in the way of stamina left now that his anger and adrenaline from the kitchen fight had begun to fade. Amira had to be exhausted, too, and Ruzaan felt a grudging respect for how she'd made it this far basically on one ankle. Had their positions been reversed, he wasn't certain that he'd have been able to avoid succumbing to the pain.

As desperate as he was to get off this planet, Amira clearly wanted it more. Why else would she douse herself in cologne, even incredibly expensive stuff? Hesitantly, the Togruta took the proffered bottle, trying not to gag as the scent of far too much cologne, plus Hutt slime and grease, combined together in an unholy trifecta. Amira then handed him the bottle, motioning him to apply it as well. Reluctantly, he began to spray himself with the cologne, as was intended. Apparently that wasn't comprehensive enough for Amira, though, who snatched the bottle out of his hands and properly doused him with it.

Eyes streaming from the overwhelming scent of a full bottle of cologne unleashed in a concentrated area, Ruzaan somehow managed to keep his retching from being loud enough for the zombie to hear, and a minute later it was making its way back down the staircase in pursuit of prey that it could find. Only after the zombie had left did Ruzaan allow himself to breathe easier, which ended up being a mistake as he promptly inhaled more concentrated "ISCyou"; setting him off on another several seconds of gagging.


@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

The door swung open, and Amira heard a group of zombies shuffle inside the storage room, groaning and grunting to themselves at intervals. It was impossible to know how many of them there were, but they were loud—sliding wooden lids off of boxes to search inside, some of them picking up the stretch wrap to play with it. The Tiefling didn't dare poke her head out to catch a glimpse of them, as tempting as it might have been. Her horns would stick out like a sore thumb. Seconds stretched on for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, until they gave up their search.

The noise faded into silence, and Amira dared to peek around the corner of the crate she and Ruzaan were huddled behind. The room was empty again—the door still swung open wide, tracks in the dust coated floor where the zombies had shuffled through. She'd never imagined that a bottle of men's cologne would come in so handy—not after her teenage brothers had practically bathed in the stuff. She looked over at Ruzaan, but all she said was, "You smell worse than bantha fodder." She had no intention of discussing her own smell. Ruzaan had already so kindly pointed that out earlier, in the stairwell.
Amira stood, using the crate to pull herself up. A dark hand sunk into the wood shavings, rummaging around for a second or two before pulling out a bottle of the cologne to keep for herself. "What?" she asked, in case the Jedi got the idea to start lecturing her. It could hardly be considered stealing, not from Hutts who would just unload the merchandise on the black market. Even if it was stealing, after the day she had just had, she didn't particularly care. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd stolen something that wasn't hers, and it wouldn't be the last. "This stuff is expensive."

She stuffed the bottle into one of the inner pockets of her jacket, where it hopefully wouldn't be broken or stained. Then she limped away from the Togruta, expecting him to follow. Without the threat of approaching zombies looming over their heads, they were able to find another exit. They stood in front of an elevator—where pallets were presumably loaded and unloaded with the forklifts. "Think you can get us in?" she asked Ruzaan, jerking her head toward the keypad.

It was a long shot, asking a teenage Jedi if he knew how to slice into an elevator, but it was worth a try. If he didn't, she'd just use her lightsaber to carve through the stainless steel doors. She was done trekking up the stairs with a busted ankle. @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Try as he might, Ruzaan couldn't get the sickly feeling out of his stomachs as he repeatedly inhaled far too much cologne at once. He knew right where the smell was coming from, too; himself. As soon as he judged the zombies were far enough away, the Togruta shucked his shirt and threw it off to the side. Amira would be able to see the various scars on his torso laid bare; injuries from Felucia and Jakku chief among them. A slight shiver shook his frame as he adjusted to the change in temperature, but at least he could breathe without wanting to throw up. "Is that better?" he asked, as Amira commented on his smell, completely ignoring any looks she gave him; on his planet, it was completely normal for Togrutas to wear little in the way of clothing.

Ruzaan was about to chastise Amira for stealing a few bottles of the expensive cologne when she made a very valid point about it being expensive. Whether because of exposure to the desperate place that was Nar Shadda, peer pressure from being next to a Sith, or the fact that the Order had seen some of its revenue streams dry up in the aftermath of Kashyyyk and hadn't been able to increase Padawan stipends for a couple years, the Togruta found himself wordlessly grabbing two bottles of the stuff, himself.

After tucking the bottles away in pouches on his utility belt, he noted that Amira was making her way to an elevator. The Tiefling made no indication that she wanted his help walking, and given her remark about his smell he didn't blame her for wanting a little bit of space now that they weren't currently running for their lives. Ruzaan took the time to go close the door to the level, which would force any pursuing zombies to bash it down- since, to his knowledge, they didn't appear to remember how to operate doors.

This accomplished, he made his way over to where Amira was waiting for him. Unlike the elevator downstairs, which ferried the Hutts from level to level, this elevator appeared to be used for more glamorous purposes; unloading supplies and goods from visiting ships.

Visiting... ships...

"This should take us to the hangar!" he said, feeling a surge of hope for the first time in far too long. His spirits deflated somewhat when Amira asked him to slice into the elevator; sure enough, there was a keypad next to the "Up" button on the elevator terminal.

His good mood soon returned, however. "The keypad is disabled" he announced after a moment's inspection, punching the "Up" button and hearing the lift begin to come down to meet them (Hax roll 14/20). A fine layer of dust covered the keypad while grime coated the elevator call button; clearly, the workers here had found punching in a code too unwieldy given the elevator's frequent use. As if on cue, the door chimed open, presenting an empty elevator; much to Ruzaan's relief. "Almost there" he said happily, stepping inside. Only then did it occur to him that if Amira wanted to kill him, she'd probably do it sometime between here and the 8th level where the hangar was.

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

Amira had anticipated some long, drawn out lecture or, at the very least, a stern, disapproving stare that made it abundantly clear where the Togruta and the Jedi stood on stealing. Instead, Ruzaan snatched a few bottles of the expensive cologne for himself, stuffing them into the pockets of his utility belt. Maybe they were for him, or perhaps for a friend, but she'd never felt like she had more in common with a Jedi than at that moment. "I'm proud of ya, kid," she winked at him. She meant it, but she also wanted to get a rise out of him. The fact that she'd rubbed off on him, if even just a little bit, put her in a better mood.
That, however, was short-lived, as they reached the lift, and she looked over to see he had taken his shirt off somewhere between their hiding spot and the double doors. "Caraya's soul," she spluttered, wrinkling her nose. "You could at least have given me a head's up." The Tiefling craned her neck, averting her gaze from Ruzaan, as if that would wipe the image of the bare-chested Togruta from her mind. "Your girlfriend is gone, you know," she added, referring to the Twi'lek he'd picked up in the club, "There's no one to impress now."

Amira blinked a few times, looking between Ruzaan and the security keypad. Why hadn't she thought to check it herself before asking a teenager if he knew how to slice into it? She'd just assumed that it would be encoded, not to mention operational. Perhaps the pain and exhaustion were finally beginning to catch up with her. She shook her head, hoping that would clear her mind, and stepped inside the lift. She didn't even look over at Ruzaan as she pressed the button for the eighth floor.

Before the doors could shut, a roll of stretch wrap would glide into the lift, and into Ruzaan's hands. Amira's doing. "Wrap yourself up." A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips, the first since that Hutt had pulled her into an impromptu tango. "Five minutes in a club, and you're already stripping. Sheesh. You Jedi have no restraint." The exchange reminded her of some of her happier days, back on Bandoomer, making her brother's lives a living Chaos just for the fun of it. Briefly, she allowed herself to wonder where the teenager had acquired those scars. From Jedi training? Or on the battlefield fighting Sith?

The stainless steel doors shut, and the lift lurched up with a ding. Amira slumped against the side of the elevator with a soft sigh. All she wanted to do was sink into a hot, relaxing bath and fall asleep for ten or twelve hours. For now, the discolored, scuffed up walls of this dingy lift would have to do. This was the first reprieve either of them had had since they'd stepped foot in the refueling spire.

Coming to an abrupt stop, the doors slid open. They had reached the hangar—finally. To the Champion's surprise, security was lax. The majority of the enforcers were probably on the lower levels, trying to buy their employers enough time to escape. Amira slunk down, hunkering behind a crate just outside of the lift. At the far end of the hangar, Hutts were sliding out of a gold plated lift with lush, red upholstery and spotless mirrors. It stood in stark contrast to the lift she and Ruzaan had just taken.

The Hutts, and their companions, were being escorted by a security detail—four men to be exact, while three others stood beside the entrance ramp to a shuttle. There was another ship in the hangar—this one closer to the Force wielders, and its boarding ramp was unguarded. They just needed to get to it without being noticed. "That's our best bet out of here," Amira whispered to Ruzaan. She could already taste freedom.

Dice Roll: How well guarded is the hangar? 7/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ruzaan blinked twice as Amira teased him about taking his shirt off. He had no idea who Caraya was, but even so, Amira's comments about his appearance didn't carry much weight. "What makes you think I was looking to impress anyone?" Even her subtle jab by providing him with stretch wrap to cover up couldn't dent the growing relief he felt along with the rising of the elevator. "Really? I had no idea that the Sith were prudish."

With a slight bump, the elevator came to a stop on the eighth and final level, doors opening to reveal a hangar that was, mercifully, less occupied than he had feared. Part of that probably had to do with the fact that many of the place's inhabitants had been killed by the zombies, and part of that probably had to do with the fact that there were only two ships remaining. Ruzaan surveyed the scene; daaaancing Hutts making their escape with some guards toward a luxury craft, while a smaller, closer craft with an open ramp awaited the Force-users. Agreeing with Amira's assessment that the light freighter was their best bet, Ruzaan peeked out from behind the crate he and the Tiefling were hiding behind. There were no guards nearby the ship, and the pathway was clear. "Let's go!" he whispered, urging Amira to follow him.

Then, as they had since he'd landed on Nar Shadda, things went wrong. Ahead of the two Force-users, the ramp began to close. Ruzaan put on a burst of speed, already planning his jump, when he realized that he was pulling away from Amira and her wounded ankle, and that she wasn't going to make it.

The Togruta kept running, coiling the Force inside of him as he planned his desperate move. If she didn't resist, Amira would feel herself lifted and rocketed through the air as Ruzaan hurled her into the ship just as the ramp closed, leaving him behind. (Ruz dash to ship: 1/20)

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

The taste of freedom had already grown bland, dwindling into stale, tasteless paltry. The light freighter's boarding ramp had shut before either of them could reach it, sealing shut, and the security guards stationed around the luxury ship had spotted them.

Only one option now remained. They had to fight their way to freedom. They had to seize that luxury ship for themselves. Two guards opened fire on the pair of force users, while the others placed themselves in front of the Hutts, serving as a human barrier as they ushered the Hutts into the ship, the majority of which were still slithering across the floor.

Thanks to the Togruta's unexpected assistance, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the Jedi. Her ankle might have been worthless, but her arms still worked just fine, and she pulled the lightsaber from her belt, activating the crimson blade. One blaster bolt after another was deflected, eating through the guard's armor until they struck flesh. Then she extended a hand, winding the force around the next man that stood in her way, flinging him head first into the viewport of the luxury ship. He hung there for a second or two, suspended, until he slid down the transparisteel with an obnoxious, grating squeal and crumbled to the floor.

Now only four remained, their weapons already trained on Amira and Ruzaan. Give or take a few Hutts and terrified dancers.
Dice Roll: Attack 11/20 @SlagathorTheUnknown

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

Ditching the role of stretch wrap, which was useless when it came to defending oneself against blaster bolts, Ruzaan ignited his lightsaber, blue blades battling alongside crimson as he and Amira fought for their lives and the chance to escape. Blocking out the sounds of wailing and cursing from the Hutts, Ruzaan focused on his efforts to reach the lone remaining ship.

To his right, Amira more than held her own, deflecting blaster bolts and dealing with a couple of the guards. That left four remaining, plus the one shepherding the partygoers as the Hutts reached the base of the ramp and began to fight with one another for the chance to board first. It was now, or never.

Ruzaan gathered the Force in him, what little of his stamina remained after the grueling ordeal he and Amira had been through. He didn't expect to do much other than throw the guards' aim off, but the strength of his Force Push surprised Ruzaan and blasted the guards off of their feet, sending bodies and blasters flying. (Attack roll: 16/20)

They had their opening.

Ruzaan took off towards the luxury liner, noting that the guards he'd pushed were either dazed or unconscious, but he'd make sure he stayed with Amira this time. They were getting off this together, or not at all.

Besides, he thought as they reached the base of the ramp, it would be nice to have her help in evicting the three Hutts that had gotten aboard ahead of them.

@llamallove

 

[Amira Din]

It was now or never. Amira had no qualms about cutting in line, limping her way into the transport and passing through the air curtain at the top of the ramp. It never even entered her head that Ruzaan might stab her in the back or throw her into the group of guards scrambling to their feet before she could even reach the top. Somehow, they'd moved past that tonight. Amira would've said it was impossible, as soon as she saw that blue blade snap to life in that dingy warehouse where this whole escapade had started, but here they were. A living testament to the fact that Jedi and Sith could work together, if their lives depended on it.

Most of the Hutts were still down below, squabbling over who got to go first, all the while forfeiting their survival as the fire exit doors burst open and zombies flooded the hangar. As soon as Ruzaan joined her, Amira slammed the side of her fist into the control panel. Hydraulic lifts hissed, and the boarding ramp shut, cutting a nameless Hutt's hand off in the process. Falling at Ruzaan and Amira's feet, the slimy stub stained the durasteel floor, blood oozing out of it. One less bite for the undead to devour.

The two force wielders weren't alone in the luxury yacht—a lone Hutt and a Mirialan dancer beside him. She was older than the rest of the dancers Amira had seen that night, with lines around her eyes. This hadn't always been her lot in life, and of the two of them, she was their best bet out of here.

"Do you know how to fly a ship?" the Champion asked, red blade still activated in her hand. Eyes wide, the Mirialan nodded her head vigorously. "Good. Then you don't have to join your friend in the airlock." And that's exactly where he was thrown on their way to the cockpit.

Collapsing into the co-pilot's chair, where she could keep an eye on their voluntold pilot, Amira let out a huge breath. If her ankle hadn't hurt so bad, and if she weren't so exhausted, she would've slid behind the controls of one of the ship's laser cannons and blown the whole hangar and every zombie and Hutt inside to Chaos. It would have been just like an arcade game but twice as satisfying. She didn't say a word, not until the repulsorlift engines roared to life, and the sublight engines propelled them forward.

Then and only then did she allow herself a shaky laugh, running her fingernails through her hair. "Looks like we made it." She stared out the viewport, past the guard's blood and saliva that stained its transparisteel, before she turned to regard Ruzaan, amber eyes soft and glowing. "I don't think I ever thanked you," she said, leaving it up to him to figure out what for. "So... thanks."

Not once had he abandoned her or tried to kill her over the course of the evening, as much as she thought he would. "You're the most likable Jedi I've ever met." Not strictly a compliment, but from Amira, it was the best compliment a Jedi was ever going to get. A building, genuine smile lit up her face. Just so it didn't go to his head too much, she added, "Even if you did wilt like a lily when you tried to heal my ankle. At least now I know that whole force healing rigmarole is nothing but a scam." Made up to make the Jedi look better, no doubt.

Amira turned toward the viewport again, closing her eyes as they left the slums of Nar Shaddaa behind them. @SlagathorTheUnknown /exit thread

 

[Ruzaan Kai]

As it turned out, having a Sith along was useful in some situations, even if he didn't agree with all of Amira's methods; she did evict the Hutt, which saved them from having to share a long ship ride with one. Ruzaan reached the ramp a few moments after Amira did, coming up after her conversation with the two sentients already on the ship was already finished. If he'd known that she was going to launch the Hutt out of the airlock he'd have stopped her, but by the time he realized what was going on it was too late.

Ruzaan was surprised to realize that he didn't think Amira would do the same to him.

Having meticulously searched the ship for zombies or other inhabitants and finding none, the Togruta slumped wearily into a chair in the cockpit. Slowly, Ruzaan felt the stress and strain of the day begin to seep out of his body. For the first time in hours, he could take a moment to breathe. He could unclench, and relax. He could rest without constantly being on guard for a new threat. Neither he nor Amira had the energy to do much more than sink into the copilot's chairs. "Thank you" he said to the Mirialan currently flying the ship, remembering his manners. How many times had she even heard that phrase since becoming the property of the Hutts? "The Jedi have a program that can help you lead a free life" he assured her. The Mirialan didn't look convinced, but Ruzaan had to admit that he was battered, dirty, shirtless, and exhausted. He definitely didn't look like someone who could follow through on a promise like that.

Ruzaan wasn't certain that the Sith understood what gratitude was, but once again Amira surprised him. "You're welcome" he said, after glancing over to make sure he'd heard the Tiefling correctly. "And thank you, too." He felt no shame in admitting to himself that he would've most certainly died if Amira hadn't been there. Of course, she had to follow the nice moment up with a witty remark or two at his expense, this time going back to his failed Force Healing attempt shortly after they'd first met. Gray eyes flicked up to meet golden ones, an earnest smile tugging at the corner of Ruzaan's mouth.

"Would you like me to try again?"

/ThrExit
@llamallove