Private The Auction

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

From his perch atop the hill, Gatz spied down at the makeshift camp in the valley. It was an impressive group of tents—maybe fifty in number—circled by a fence of barbed wire. As far as slaving rings went, Gatz had seen far grander set ups, but what impressed him was the sheer number of guards that patrolled outside the fence. They moved in pairs, and even seemed alert.

In Gatz's experience, hired guards were rarely so professional.

It meant that sneaking in by climbing the fence would be extremely difficult. That left them with few options. Going in lightsabers blazing wasn't a great option either: both because that wasn't the Jedi way, and because the staggering number of tents meant that they'd be outnumbered and outgunned. In a way, Gatz was grateful for that. He didn't particularly want to kill or he killed today. He'd done too much of the former, and definitely wasn't ready for the latter.

He sighed. That only left them with one real option to get inside that camp, and Gatz wasn't looking forward to it. He silently got up from his perch, and clambered down the other side of the hill, where he'd discreetly landed The Red Night so that it couldn't be seen. Gatz had asked Rayia—a fellow adult Padawan he'd been paired with for this assignment—to keep an eye on things while he scoped out the slaver camp.

Gatz walked up the ramp of his ship, and into the cargo bay, a heavy sigh on his lips.

"For what's essentially a campground with slaves, they've got a pretty tight grip on security," Gatz confirmed, "I only see one good option for getting inside, and you're sure as hell not gonna like it."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia had been surprised when Gatz had come to her with a request for assistance. Rayia didn't know her fellow adult Padawan well, but the explanation of their objective quickly and conclusively melted the Felacatian's heart. Despite her discomfort during space flight, she boarded Gatz's ship, The Red Night, without complaint. Even had she not faced her own troubles with captivity in the face of pirates, who were quickly taught why this was a terrible idea, the issue of piracy had long plagued her tribe. As huntresses and huntsmen all, the Felacatians from Weik were more than capable of defending themselves even without the benefits of their Felacatian heritage.

But those individuals were not the ones that the pirates would target. 'No, the foul snakes would throw up a diversion and draw the hunters away. Then they'd creep into our village and steal the kits from the crib,' Rayia reminisced angrily as the thought made her blood boil. Deep inside, the beast within shifted uneasily at the sensation of rage permeating Rayia's thoughts. Rayia could feel her blood roaring in her ears as her pulse quickened. The faint itch of the beast starting to suffuse her body prickled the skin of her arms, raising the fur there. Closing her eyes, Rayia breathed out slowly attempting to calm herself. Gradually, she felt the beast within succumbing to slumber again.

Rayia was grateful for the opportunity to stay and watch over the ship once they had touched down on the planet. During the trip, she had been relatively miserable. Rayia had remained in a corner of the Red Night's cargo bay, huddled desperately against a bulkhead. Her face drenched in perspiration as she tried to suppress a shiver. One clawed hand dug into the hull-plates, leaving small rents in the metal as Rayia's fingers closed into a fist. The cool metal bit into Rayia's palm as she scrunched it up with a strength that her small form belied. Felacatians hated traveling for a very good reason. Their keen senses and the acute, sensory organ in their tail that allowed them to sense the slightest vibrational tremor of movement in the enviroment around them meant that each journey through space felt like an endless plunge through a void.

As she was watching over the ship, Rayia's tail bristled with movement. About a hundred meters away, she sensed an individual slowly making their way back towards the ship. '...They don't seem hurried. If anything, perhaps a bit reluctant,' Rayia thought to herself as she slid next to the loading ramp. Her mother, Nemea the Feral Queen, had Rayia tutored by the best of her hunters and huntresses before taking over her training. Rayia had been instructed in the ways in which to interpret the vibrations and movements her tail could detect. There was a weight to those movements, each ponderous measured step slowly bringing the individual closer to the hatchway.

Rayia would move when the individual crossed the threshold of the loading ramp and the cargo bay. Lacing her fingers together, she hammered a dual handed strike towards the individual's shoulder from behind. A sweep of the arms which was drawn up short when Rayia's keen eyes spotted that it was in fact Gatz. "Uhm, sorry. I was- Well, you can't be too careful around these snakes," She said, freezing awkwardly as she slowly lowered her hands. Rayia's ears perked with alarm at the mention of the camp's high security. The last time she'd... dealt with some pirates, they'd managed to finally puncture her defenses with two rotating blaster cannons. Since this encampment had been set up for several days, Rayia imagined that there would probably be watch-towers with mounted blaster units.

Not to mention other potential, nasty surprises for them. 'When we finally caught up to the Kalacuvian Raiders, they had a whole gas trap ready to release poison into the underground holding pens. Or the Sophinians who hosted their market beneath the dam...' Rayia shuddered at the words. Horrible memories flashed before her eyes unbidden as her tribe worked to free their people. 'They would flood the entire place with the removal of a critical support beam,' Rayia perked up as Gatz revealed he had a plan to gain access but that she wouldn't like it. "...What did you have in mind?" Rayia asked, pulling her ears back defensively. 'Why do I have a really bad feeling about where this is going?' Rayia thought to herself.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

Gatz had just reached the top of the ramp, when the Force guided him to move. He didn't though, and instead swiveled his head to look at what the impending danger was: Rayia trying to hammer him into the deck of his own vessel. He blinked at her in return, grateful that she had pulled back the blow at the last second. A concussion was the last thing either of them needed right now.

Especially with how they were about to walk into the viper's den.

"Well, at least I know you'd have protected my ship." Which, to be fair, was exactly what he'd asked her to do in his absence.

Gatz moved on then, walking over to the single crate in his otherwise empty cargo hold. With a grunt of effort, he pushed the heavy lid off and let it clatter to the ground. Peering inside, he found a number of useful items he had specifically stocked for this assignment. The most helpful of which were illegal explosives, but he was really hoping they wouldn't need those. Good to have though, just in case.

"...What did you have in mind?"

"We're going to walk through the front gate." And then Gatz added, "presuming you don't kill me in the next thirty seconds."

Gatz began to dig into the crate, and a few seconds passed before he procured a skimpy dress and sandals for Rayia. He tossed them to her, with no explanation just yet, and picked the lid up off the ground to close the crate again.

"You want to get close to a slaver? Offer him what he wants most: that's you. You're beautiful and exotic. They'll let us walk right into that camp. We can figure out how to stage a break out from there."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia returned his blink with one of her own. She scratched her cheek sheepishly at his words. "Well, you did ask me to watch over them." She answered lamely, feeling like she was stating the obvious. Rayia's ears flicked with curiosity as she watched Gatz stroll over to a crate that had been secured in the cargo hold. As it was the only crate, the thought of what it might contain had crossed Rayia's attention quite a few times. It had made for an entertaining game during the period of time where she had lain huddled in the hold. 'And quite a good distraction at that,' Rayia thought to herself. Rayia had imagined all sorts of items stashed away inside. Most of those items being contraband, such as smuggled medicine, spices, weapons.

Peering over Gatz' shoulder, Rayia thought she spied illegal explosives among the other items stashed there. Her face split in a toothy grin, a mouthful of sharp fangs stretching from ear to ear in a knowing look. 'Is it my fault that he's a bit scruffy? In a good way, I suppose,' Rayia thought to herself. "You know. I did wonder what you were carrying. An isolated crate in the middle of the hold?" Rayia said, her tone teasing. All traces of humor vanished as Gatz implied that they'd be strolling through the front gate if she didn't kill him in the next thirty seconds. Her eyes narrowed into a squint as she stared up at the taller human. Golden orbs gleamed in the dim light of the illumination strips that light up the cargo hold in which she and Gatz were standing. "No promises..." She said, trailing off as she tried to understand what Gatz' plan was.

Rayia felt a foreboding warning deep in her bones as she contemplated how he planned to achieve an unobtrusive entrance past so much security. 'The compound is too heavily guarded. Any guard could raise the alarm at any moment if anyone tries anything. So the only way that someone walks into the compound past the front gate...' Rayia thought to herself with a sinking feeling. The only way anyone would make it past the gate is if they were to engage in what the ...market offered. In other words, the buying and selling of flesh. The flimsy sandals and skimpy dress that thumped against her chest a moment later as Rayia caught them only confirmed her suspicion.

"No..." Rayia shook her head at Gatz's explanation. Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. The liquid gold of her feline eyes had hardened into a murderous glare. Her shoulders and legs were shaking, as she restrained herself from pouncing Gatz at the mere suggestion. Clawed fingers burrowed into the sheer fabric, tearing small gashes into the material. She shook her head vehemently, tawny, golden white locks tumbling down her shoulders as they swept side to side. A touch of red springing to her cheeks at his words and the burning emotions that they had prompted. "You don't know what you're asking of me," She bit out, having to parse each word.

'And yet, do you have a better idea? Hundreds of people are suffering the same way. Right now. In that camp. It's already been proven you will not be able to sneak into the camp otherwise,' Rayia's logical mind countered. She understood, perhaps better than most what it meant for the people in the camp. What it meant for them to be wrestled on stage and bought or sold at the whims of masters or mistresses who were cruel in their hedonism. "...Fine. Turn around so I can put this on," Rayia hissed, letting the tension in her fingers unwind with the slow exhalation. But the steely glint in her eyes implied that should Gatz leave her in that snake den, there would be no mistake. She would hunt him down.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

"You know. I did wonder what you were carrying. An isolated crate in the middle of the hold?"

"I was a smuggler before I was a Jedi," Gatz explained, "mostly hauled spice, but every now and again I hauled weapons or explosives. Sometimes I held onto things when my employers and I disagreed about what I was owed."

The Cathar (was she a Cathar, she looked like she was) was understandably upset with his plan. If some strange man asked him to step into a skimpy get up, to play the part of a slave dancer, he'd probably have a few— well, actually, he'd probably just do it to get the job done. But he wasn't a woman from a species regularly preyed on by slavers. Rayia's objection only made sense: he was probably asking her to imitate her worst nightmare.

He knew what that was like. He felt terrible. But he saw no other way of getting inside.

"Hey," Gatz tried to sound as gentle as he could, "I'm going to be a foot away from you at all times. I'll have my astromech smuggle our lightsabers in his casing, so our weapons will be within reach if we need them. I promise you: you're coming out that camp."

That, or they'd both die in there. But Gatz chose not to voice that particular possibility. He'd rather bank on a positive ending to this whole shindig.

Either his reassurance had its intended effect on Rayia, or she herself came to the conclusion that this was the best way to sneak into that camp, because she acquiesced a moment later. With an added demand for him to turn around, because obviously she didn't want a pair of lingering eyes on her while she changed.

"I'll be outside," Gatz promised, before walking back down the boarding ramp.

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

"Hrrrrm." Rayia acknowledged with a slight growl as Gatz attempted to reassure her. The presence of their weapons nearby would reassure her somewhat, but it was still going to be an incredibly uncomfortable experience. Rayia already suffered from a feeling of being ogled by others; of being othered because she was different in mannerisms, dress and technological understanding. Even within the Order, she had often wondered if she had truly belonged. Her natural instincts conflicting against several tenants of the Order and its members. She had even nearly caused several members harm as she struggled to deal with aspects of Felacatian biology. But the stares that she was about to subject herself to were nothing like the stares that she would have endured so far. They weren't the polite standoffishness of curiosity as the staring individual observed someone different to them. They weren't even going to be the harsh, warding stares of people who felt as if Rayia did not belong in their presence.

No, these stares were going to be pure, unadulterated greed. Roving eyes calculating exactly how much beauty, exoticism, and obedience was worth in each pound of flesh in the Felacatian's small body. The thought made her want to drive her claws into their necks and slowly tear their spines from their bodies. Rayia's fingers started to bite into her arms from the anticipation of tearing them to shreds before she stopped herself. 'If this is going to work, you need to pull off the role. No one is going to want a slave bleeding from cuts to her arms,' Rayia thought. Slowly, she stripped off her garments and pulled the sheer, golden cloth of the simple dress over her head. It was relatively threadbare and any observer could see the faint silhouette of Rayia's lithe, bare form beneath the cloth. Since the lack of a tailhole made the garment somewhat uncomfortable to wear, Rayia retracted her tail into its sheath at the base of her spine. She left just a short length of fluffy fur that hung under the cloth, wrapping coyly around her waist and hiding it from view. Lastly, she slipped on the flimsy sandals. Clawed toes pressed neatly together as Rayia tied up the simple rope wrappings that kept the footwear secured.

"Okay, you can come back." She called, poking her head out the loading ramp's hatch. When Gatz was back inside, she wrapped her arms around herself. "If we're going to make this work, then we need a couple of things. Firstly, a story. Who I am, who you are, and how you captured me." Rayia said, before jutting her chin towards the crate. "You said you were a smuggler right? We can use that." Rayia recalled, before looking down at herself. "I guess I'll be a Cathar woodcarver. One day, a scruffy human visted my shop only to stun and spirit me away," The Felacatian said. The deception wouldn't be too hard to maintain. Rayia had been pretending to be a Cathar for years, and was now even familiar with a Cathar tribe after having been adopted into one through her Mentor. Whilst Gatz started to think on his own story, Rayia poked a clawed finger at the crate. She shuddered, hating the next suggestion that would come spilling out of her mouth. But it was a necessary one. "You have any restraints here?" She asked. No slaver was going to believe their yarn if she was free to just wander about.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

Gatz was called back into his ship, and without really thinking much about it, walked back up the ramp.

Somehow, he had been unprepared for the scene that greeted him in the cargo hold. The dress he'd pilfered for Rayia was more translucent than he'd thought it was. He'd known the fabric was thin, but if he stared hard enough, he could barely see the details of her bare form. That had, truly, not been his intention... but it would help sell the idea that she was a slave.

He wasn't proud of the lust that coiled in his core. Gatz looked away, took a moment to breath in and out, and then moved on.

Rayia mentioned the need to iron out their cover story. So she was Cathar after all, and unfortunately (or fortunately, in their case), no one would be suspicious of a Cathar slave. So he agreed with her tall tale: that she was some innocent woman that he—a scoundrel looking for a little extra money and entertainment—had kidnapped for his own personal gain. The idea of playing that role left a bad taste in his mouth, but Rayia had it much worse than he did in their little charade.

"It's a good story. I enslaved you for your body, and the chance to make some money by lending you out to others," Gatz frowned, "which, for the record, we're not going to do. Unless it's the only chance we have of getting close to our kingpin, I don't want to consider making you dance for anyone."

But then Rayia asked another, very logical question. Gatz sighed. He knew she that was right, but he really didn't want to be the guy who put a collar on a sapient being.

"I've got a leather collar with a leash on it. And a shock collar with a remote." He admitted, "pick whichever one is the least uncomfortable to you."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia's eyebrows slowly rose as Gatz averted his gaze from her. Clearly he hadn't expected the full impact of the ensemble, even if he had chosen the clothing. Rayia could feel the slight tremble in him through her tail as he inhaled and exhaled, mustering his wits. 'Well, we can be sure of one thing. The costume works,' Rayia wasn't sure what to feel at that. On one hand, the more eyes she drew, the more people might come to believe their charade. Meaning that Gatz would have more freedom to move about within the camp. On the other hand, it additionally meant more scrutiny under the microscope. For both the disguise and Rayia herself.

"Good," was Rayia's stoic response to the clarification that Gatz wouldn't actually propose she dance for anyone. Not unless it was the sole means of continuing their mission, at which point Rayia supposed, success meant more than her personal comfort. That was the oath she had taken the day she had set out from her tribe to hunt the dark Warlocks on Weik alongside a Jedi. A decision that had led to her own abilities awakening and her subsequent flight from her tribe, only to wind up wrapped up in a mission much larger than herself.

Rayia could see that Gatz wasn't entirely thrilled by his own idea. 'Even if he's the one who proposed it, I... guess I could lay off him a bit,' Rayia thought to herself. She tried to give Gatz a reassuring grin, though it came more as a tight-lipped smile. Still, forcing herself to infuse some cheer into her voice, Rayia said. "It's an excellent story. We'll be in the camp in no time, where we can start making these snakes pay in short order."

Rayia blinked owlishly at Gatz as he admitted to having a leather collar and leash in addition to a shock collar. Her ears, which had been folded back in a defensive posture, shot upright as her eyebrows climbed several degrees. They drew together in a surprised frown, before Rayia said. "Do I... want to know why you have those?" She asked, shaking her head. 'Focus on the mission...' She mentally chided herself, before she could suppress a small voice in her head that whispered, '...I didn't take him to be interested in that.'

"If you are a down on your luck, scraggly ruffian hoping to make a few extra credits and get some entertainment, what makes more sense?" She looked at Gatz. "You're more technologically versed than I am. Would having a shock collar be feasible for such an individual? I imagine it would take plenty of maintenance." Then she pursed her lips. A slight tingling sensation had spread over her ankle where she'd last felt a shock collar's tender touch. "Still, I'd...rather not try the shock collar if possible. It may quickly lead to problems." The continual stress of a shock collar was a surefire way for Rayia to undergo a rapid infusion of the beast within or even a full shifting, at which point a veritable massacre would occur.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

Gatz had worked for a slaver once—smuggling the man's spice, and that only. But he still remembered the way that man had treated his slaves. Horridly, like they were animals not people. And Gatz remembered having turned a blind eye to it, all because the man had filled his pockets with credits. He'd had his reasons for that; had his own troubles to solve.

But that didn't justify ignoring crimes against humanity. Being here, putting Rayia in a slave's collar and garb, it felt like he was regressing back to who he used to be—or worse.

"Do I... want to know why you have those?"

"Tell you what: we survive this, and I'll show you why I have these." He stopped for a moment, and then added, "...that was a joke. I bought them at a particular kind of store on Coruscant, expecting we might have to do things this way."

Rayia didn't seem too comfortable with the idea of wearing a shock collar, and frankly, who would? So he pulled the leather collar and lead from the crate. He approached her, and gestures for her to turn around with his finger, so that he could... fit her with a slave collar.

"If you don't want the shock collar, then we're not using the shock collar. I don't care if it makes more sense or not," Gatz shook his head, "okay, I have to make this look snug, but I'll try to leave it as loose as I can."

It wasn't everyday that a Jedi got to collar someone. If the situation were less tense, Gatz might have even made a joke about it. But Rayia was probably uncomfortable enough as it was, and his jokes had never been good, or properly timed.

So quiet he remained.

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Gatz’s comment caused Rayia’s eyebrows to perk a few degrees further. She was far too tense to laugh at his unwitting remark. But she couldn't help repress a quiet snort when she heard him lamely try to defend it as a joke. One corner of her mouth drew upwards in a crooked smile. ‘Are bad jokes an adopted trait in the Order? Why does it seem like everyone in the Order can’t help themselves?’ Rayia thought to herself.

Shaking her head, she chuckled at Gatz’s admission that he had bought them because he thought that they might have to do it this way. “All well and good, but I just have one little question,” Rayia said, a playful note entering her tone. Someone needed to lighten the mood, or Rayia’s nerve would snap like a brittle twig. “But was that before or after you asked me to partner with you for the mission?” Rayia asked, and slowly turned around for Gatz to slip the lead on.

“Thank you,” Rayia said appreciatively when Gatz firmly refused to put the shock collar on her. Even if it would’ve made more sense for their charade, Rayia couldn’t lie. A sense of relief flooded through her at the words. Her shoulders lifted, feeling a metaphorical weight sloughing off them. Another quiet snort filled the silence as Gatz stumbled over his words yet again.

Rayia tried not to itch her neck at the spot where Gatz attached the collar and lead. The thick leather collar was indeed snug, and Rayia could already feel warmth pressing in against her neck from the planet’s humidity. She waited patiently, testing the lead by turning her head this way and that, leaning back against the pull etc. Rayia wanted to know exactly how large her range of motion was. From his position behind the Felacatian, Gatz would see that Rayia’s back and shoulders bore several large scars.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

“But was that before or after you asked me to partner with you for the mission?”

He didn't want to answer that question. He didn't think Rayia would be too fond of the answer. But he was asking a lot of her today, and they hadn't even departed his ship yet. Who knew what else the day would bring, or what either of them would have to do in order to free these slaves? He owed her honesty, at the very least. And, maybe by telling her the truth, he'd finally convince her that he wasn't going to leave her stranded in that camp.

"After you joined the mission," Gatz admitted, "but I had hoped for it to be a last resort."

He finished fastening the collar, and held the lead firm as Rayia tested her range of motion. As she did, he noticed the scars on her back—serious lacerations that had clearly been improperly treated, if at all. The remnants of a lashing, or several? It was hard for him to tell with the dress in the way, but he hoped he was wrong. Not simply because it made him feel even worse about dressing her up as a slave.

But because he knew the sting of a whip himself. Not as acutely as a slave did, but he was familiar all the same.

"And you don't have to thank me for tossing a shock collar aside," Gatz said quietly, "I'm sorry to be doing this to you at all."

He stepped back then, satisfied that Rayia looked the part. And he was scruffy enough, and wearing an expensive and ostentatious red leather jacket, so who would doubt that he could be criminal scum? He had been criminal scum, once.

"If it's any consolation... I'm not fond of the collar, but you look great in that dress. Sandals are cute too."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia nodded slowly at Gatz's answer. She appreciated his honesty, even if he felt it painted him in a less than ideal light. "I see," she said simply. Clearly, there were some feelings he was repressing, even if the Felacatian did not know what exactly they were. Guilt was self evident, but Rayia had sensed some other lingering emotions. The way he had turned away from her when he had first boarded the ramp... Her predatory instincts had recognized a hunger there. She also supposed it made sense for him to have chosen her. She'd been pretending to be a Cathar for years, and well... one did not spend that length of time without picking up on a few things. Rayia knew that Cathars were often targeted by slavers as well. 'Cathars are prized by these snakes, for their beauty and grace. I've been pretending to be a Cathar for quite some time. Only a few individuals know what I truly am. I am quite literally the best cover story he could have chosen,' Rayia thought to herself.

Rayia could feel the shadow of his eyes across her back. Her ear twitched and she twisted around, hiding the scars from view. Her mouth pursed, an uncomfortable silence settling into the cargo bay. She was embarrassed. The lesson that she had learned on that day, one ingrained into her very back was hardly a point of pride for her. As per the rules of the tribe, lessons were internalized in a brutal manner. Rayia would carry the consequences of the choice that had led to a month's worth of starvation for her tribe on her back forever.

Not entirely sure how to broach the topic, Rayia took a step back and indicated that Gatz should take the lead. "Pretty sure you'll need to lead if we want our story to hold up," She said quickly, sidling into position behind Gatz. At his whispered apology, she bit her lip. "Listen Gatz. It's...okay. I'm... not going to be comfortable with it. I don't think ever. But I'm choosing to focus on the fact that our little ploy could save hundreds of people in that camp." The short Felacatian leaned forwards onto her clawed toes, reaching up to pat the taller human on his shoulder slowly and gently. "And I can see that this is painful for you too somehow. But you're bringing these people hope. Trust me."

Rayia blinked at the compliment, her tail fluttering somewhat. A melodic chuckle came from behind Gatz's shoulder as Rayia covered a smile with a clawed hand. "Then perhaps, once we have freed these people, I will have a happier excuse to wear them." She responded to Gatz' compliment, before slapping her cheeks slightly. "Focus." She muttered under her breath, running through her charade of a backstory one more time. After a minute, she'd state in a more serious tone. "Okay. I'm... ready."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Rayia Si

"Okay. I'm... ready."

As much as Gatz would have loved to hold onto the sound of her laughter forever, they had shit to do.

Holding the lead while it was attached to Rayia's collar felt gross. But this whole situation was far more gross for her. So, instead of whining about it, Gatz just sucked it up and led the Cathar(?) down the ramp. R4 followed suit, their weapons hidden inside his cylindrical casing, and with a serving tray attached to his dome. He was the slave owner, Rayia danced, and the droid served drinks.

Not a flawless cover story, but it would work well enough. Except...

"Hey," Gatz didn't bother whispering, not when they still had a whole hill to climb before they could even see the encampement, "the plan is still to avoid it, but if worse comes to worst, do you know how to dance?"

If he kept her close enough, and they kept their noses clean it wouldn't matter. No one would have reason to bother an owner and his dancer, not unless they somehow offended the man in charge of this camp. But should that occur, Gatz wanted to know what their options were. Cutting loose and running wasn't a great choice, but it was better than fighting while outgunned. So unless they had a way of placating these criminals...

Well, Rayia might be the only one who could bail them out of trouble. He had only ever been good for getting into it.

"If you don't, we might need to brainstorm some alternatives to getting ourselves out of trouble."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia slipped into position behind Gatz and followed him down the ramp of the ship. She affected a demure posture, tilting her head downwards. This kept her eyes roving the ground in front of her, as one might imagine from an obedient slave. In other words, the role she was playing. Rayia's ears remained alert however, allowing her to potentially overhear conversations as they would pass through the camp. Moreover, it completed the image of a fearful, obedient slave ever mindful of her master's fluctuating desires. Rayia stumbled after the taller human as the pair picked their way up the hill, taking two steps for every one that Gatz took. 'Stop. Don't rush. Let him drag you along somewhat,' she noted mentally, slowing her pace to a natural, human walk instead of the blistering pace with which Felacatians normally moved. Rayia was uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable with everything that was happening, but she channeled that discomfort into her disguise. Her reluctance would imitate what was expected of her, and lend credence to their ploy.

A tentative silence followed Gatz's question as the pair shambled up the hill. A gust of wind tousled Rayia's hair, briefly alleviating the oppressive humidity of Nar Shadda even as it brought more pungent traces of squalor to Rayia's nose. Rayia's ear flicked, wincing at how loud Gatz was in the gentle breeze lightly stirring the dried, flaky stalks of grass that carpeted the hills. 'Then again, there isn't anyone to overhear us yet. The nearest person is some distance away. And deaf as a Dorvorian Dew Walker, apparently,' Rayia thought to herself. Still, caution was the council of the day. Rayia kept her voice low as she answered. "...Yes. I can dance. Different dances than they might be used to, but enough to get us out of a jam," she said, hoping that it didn't come to that. She wanted to curse. To rip the boss's head off with her own claws and teeth and damn the consequences. 'But if I do that, who will pay the price? The innocent people they have held captive for so long,' she reminded herself before adding, 'just put up with it a little while longer."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Rayia Si

"...Yes. I can dance. Different dances than they might be used to, but enough to get us out of a jam,"

"It's still at the bottom of our list of options," Gatz reassured her, "it's just handy to know what those options are."

But then they reached the top of the hill, and began to descend. Now, they were in view of the guards at the gate. They were probably still out of earshot, but Gatz didn't want to risk blowing their cover, so he stayed silent. He led Rayia along by the lead, trying to look annoyed and imposing, but without yanking on her. She was doing her best to look the part of a slave struggling to keep up with her master, so he didn't really have to.

That worked for him. Better for her to make it look like she was being yanked along, than for him to actually have to yank her along.

Gatz brought them to a halt in front of the gate guards, a pair of Twi'lek men carrying blasters. They eyed the two of them for a moment, not saying anything. He almost thought their jig was up right there and then, but finally, one of them spoke.

"Here for the auction, then?"

"That's right. I'm looking to fetch a nice stack of credits for this one." Gatz hated how easy it was to play his role.

"Where'd you find her?"

"Nabbed her right out of her home on Cathar. Thought she was pretty. And she was fun for a time, but I've gotten bored."

"If that's the case, I'd happily take her off your hands."

The Twi'lek reached for Rayia, but Gatz quickly yanked her by the arm and pulled her against him. Not necessarily the most comfortable of actions for either of them, but he hadn't had much time to think.

"Hands off the merchandise. I'm here to sell, not to let you play with her."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia was about to respond when they crested the hill and began descending the other side. Realizing it wouldn’t look good for a supposed slave to be speaking without being addressed directly, she lapsed into silence. Instead she took the time to observe the guards standing at the gate. There were two of them, as one might expect. The fact that these guards were Twileks was a little surprising. Rayia had thought that Twileks, like Cathars who the Felacatian was pretending to be, knew the struggles with being on the opposite side of this. It was a little disheartening to see that circumstances or unreputable desires could make these two stoop so low.

The two were most definitely armed, and well armed at that. Rayia could see the holsters that they wore slung at their hips. The blasters that they cradled within their arms were mean, snub nosed things. An ugly, external canister attached to the stock of the blaster like a pimple, threading its way into the firing chamber. Doubtless it was designed to give the plasma an extra, illegal kick.

Their armor was by comparison a tad ramshackle. Overfitting plates were welded and threaded together upon a leather tunic as a base. A symbol was etched into the metal: a fat, water spider nestled within its web. ‘Clearly, whoever their master is wants to show off the deterrent his brutes present whilst not empathizing too much for their safety. I’ll have to ask Gatz about that when we get a moment alone,’ Rayia thought to herself.

Rayia was snapped out of her musings by Gatz suddenly yanking her away from the Twilek reaching out towards her. She had been so lost in thought she hadn't registered the sensations her tail was sending to her about the Twilek's movement towards her. The unexpectedness of the yanking movement played well as Rayia’s eyes went wide and she let out a small “eep” of surprise. At the very least, it might cover up the primal flash of rage that bubbled beneath the surface of Rayia’s golden gaze at the Twilek’s suggestion.

Rayia twisted into Gatz’ chest and huddled there for a moment. She affected a sniffle. She was expected to cower after all. No one would question a sniveling slave. Her ear hurt from where Gatz had effectively pinned it against him. It throbbed, twitching with the sound of his heartbeat.

Not only that, but she had to fight down the sudden surging of blood pounding in her ears. Her beast within struggled against its bindings, pleading with her to let herself rip the Twilek man to shreds with claws and fangs. ‘No, remember why this is necessary. Why you have to do this,’ Rayia reminded herself. “I wanna go home,” she whimpered weakly as she picked up her role again.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Rayia Si

Illegally modified blasters—a normal thing to find in the underworld, but not often carried by two nobody guards. Whoever ran this crew, he wanted to intimidate anyone who approached. Shows of power like that were normal. What Gatz found most interesting was the sigil: a fat water spider—

Oh fuck.

His heart raced, for a multitude of reasons. He knew who they were dealing with, their jig could be up right here, and also he'd just pulled a beautiful woman in skimpy clothes up against him. Should that have distracted him in this moment? Of course not. But unlike most people he knew, Gatz was only human. He managed to keep most of the blood in his brain where it belonged, and started bullshitting their way through these two guards.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to find a tent and... relax before I auction her off."

“I wanna go home,”

"Quiet!" He barked, "or do you want another lashing?"

Something like bile filled his mouth. But Rayia was playing a role far worse than his, so he swallowed it down, and yanked on her leash to pull her head back. Gatz tried not to be harsh about it... but he also had to look convincing: he was, after all, a slaver disciplining his slave.

"Alright, enough with the foreplay." The guards stepped aside and waved him through, "the auction starts at sunset. If you want to spend any quality time with her before you sell her, you ought to do it now."

"Thank you gentleman," Gatz wrapped his arm around Rayia's waist to drag her along with him, "let's go. And don't speak out of turn again."

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Pressed up against him as she was, Rayia heard the increase in Gatz’s heart-rate. Tucked against him however, she couldn’t catch whether or not that was because she was standing so close to him or because he had picked up on a threat to their charade. ‘His heart is really hammering away in there,’ Rayia thought to herself as Gatz explained to the guards that he wanted to find some privacy before the auction.

Gatz responded to Rayia’s plea beautifully. She had been expecting the disciplining yank at any moment. All part of a ploy to make the guards lose interest in her. They seemed the type to prefer broken in obedience after all and the prospect of disciplining someone again wouldn’t appeal to them. As Gatz pulled her head back to look up at him, Rayia widened her eyes and let her lip tremble. “N-n” she started to respond before pressing her warbling lips together into a tight line. Gatz had commanded her to be quiet after all. So instead, Rayia shook her head slowly.

Apparently, this little bit of playacting bored the guards sufficiently to allow them to pass through. Even the one who had been ogling Rayia hungrily shaking his head in disgust at her whimpering. She nodded dutifully as Gatz told her to never speak out of turn again and let the human drag her away with an arm wrapped around her waist.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Rayia Si

Relief flooded him as they passed into the camp proper. Through the rows upon rows of tents, Gatz only spied a few guards, and many more slaves and slavers. Too few eyes, and too many other bodies for anyone to pay them much mind. That was good. As long as they didn't do something completely unexpected, or get caught somewhere they weren't supposed to be, he figured they didn't have to worry about drawing suspicion.

"Come on," Gatz let go of Rayia, and took the lead in his hands loosely, "I don't think anyone is going to notice if we loosen your collar a little."

It was a small comfort, and the only one he could offer her until this facade was over. But he has felt the way she'd bristled as she played her part. If he could do anything to take the burden off of her, then Gatz felt obligated to do so. So, provided she followed, he led her behind a tent where he was certain they wouldn't be seen.

While his fingers worked the clasp of her restraint, he asked her a question.

"I don't know how much you know of the criminal underworld. Did you recognize the sigil those guards wore? It's not good news."

The knowledge of who they were about to piss off frightened him, even. Even if R4 was right at their sides with their lightsabers on hand, Gatz still wasn't looking forward to poking the hornet's nest. The last time he'd screwed with a crime lord, he'd lost the last of his family. And dealt with bounty hunters for months.

 

[Rayia Si]

Gatz Derrevar

---

Rayia’s shoulders unwound as they passed through the gate. Just a smidge, but she relaxed. After all, the highest chance of detection had been in entering the compound. Now that they were inside, chances were they would be left alone. Guards are usually meant to keep something out, not interrogate everyone on the premises. So long as they weren’t caught deviating too much from their roles or well breaking in to places they should not be, there should be no reason for attention to be drawn to them.

Rayia followed as Gatz loosened the grip he had on the lead. He offered to loosen her collar, purporting that no one would notice. The offer was certainly tempting, but… As the two ducked out of sight, Rayia whispered. “Is that wise? I understand what you’re trying to do, but won’t it give us away? Especially with how anxious you seem.”

She listened as he explained that her hunch had been correct. He had been terrified of that symbol, and his explanation started to make sense. “We…didn’t really have such things where I grew up,” Rayia replied. ‘Mother took care of that. She’d probably eat them for breakfast,’ Rayia thought to herself.

“But when I left, I moved to a big, port city for a while. They had an established Thieves Guild with reputation. I was often in their way. So… I can imagine what awaits us at least in the vaguest sense. But I’ll bite. Who are we dealing with?” Rayia said, pursing her lips slightly. She wasn’t exactly looking forwards to dealing with the fallout either. ‘Maybe I’ll take a page from Mother’s book. Make sure there isn’t anyone to air those petty grievances left,’ Rayia thought. It was an unbecoming thought. Rayia’s tail seemed to fluff, thick prickles of fur ruffling as the highly specialized organ pinpointed movement nearby.

Refocusing on something over Gatz’s shoulder, Rayia suddenly leaned in. She attempted to guide Gatz’s face down to her own. Whereupon, she then pressed her cheek against his. Her cheek was warm, and her breath would tickle his ear as she whispered “Someone watching us on a walkway about two stories up. Hopefully, they’ll think we’re smooching each other in a back alley,” Rayia said as she froze, not daring to check again for fear of giving them away. She waited, relying on her tail’s keen sense of movement to tell her when the stranger had moved off.