Cat and Mouse

[Joza Perl]

Though Joza still had some Jedi-like tendencies and moments of maturity, she had slowly begun to regress after being Knighted. More specifically, after shed spent an intimate afternoon with a gorgeous Caprine seductress on Voss while on the cusp of Knighthood. The Padawan didn’t know it then, but that encounter would spark the streak of rebelliousness and rather un-Jedi like behavior she was riding now. Though most of it was fairly mild in nature, the Zeltron found that she had an unsettling lust for ominous situations. Not that she specifically went around seeking them out, but if the opportunity presented itself…

However, she couldn’t quite recall the events that had led her to this particular pub in one of the seediest areas on Nar Shaddaa. Maybe it was their version of amateur night that had lured her in and had her dancing on a makeshift stage, cheered on by bouts of shameless whistles and howls. Or maybe it was the fact that she actually liked feeling the eyes of men as they leered at her curves and exposed pink flesh. Either way, the Zeltron would find herself perched upon one of the uncomfortable bar stools, downing a shot of Corellian whiskey for the umpteenth time and vaguely wondering where she’d gone wrong. Self-control came in bouts, as if she’d forgotten all of her teachings. She nearly scoffed at the thought of the righteous Jedi, but at the same time figured it could have easily been the whiskey.

Despite her natural high tolerance thanks to her Zeltron heritage, Joza had indulged in a reckless amount of drink already as she tried to drown out her conscience. Maybe she should go back to Voss. Maybe she should contact her bounty hunter friend who had a flat in one of the nicer areas. At least she could sleep soundly there. But she didn’t do anything that she should have done, and instead remained at the bar as the barkeep poured her another shot.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

The Smuggler’s Moon was a normal stop for Cadoc Raal, the Slave Master of Drukarg. Nar Shaddaa, Nal Hutta, Antecedent, Syvris - planets once occupied by the infamous Red Raven crime syndicate, now held in the sluggish, faltering grip of the Techno Union – were perfect locals for Raal’s business needs. An exile from Zygerria, he and his employer, Aava Sasithorn, found that business was booming between the Mara Corridor and Wild Space, and they were just close enough to make drop-offs to more economically sound planets like Christophsis or Naboo.

Cadoc liked to inspect the middle level of Shaddaa just on the cusp of the Underworld. After all, the deeper you traveled into the bowels of the eceumenopolis, the more destitute the living situation was for sentient beings. And he was not seeking the ill, lame or mentally ill.

No, the Zygerrian slaver was looking for profit. And profit almost always came in the form of a muscular mining worker, or even better still – a pretty, young thing to amuse a wealthy Coruscant businessman. Or another of the anonymous clients of the Drukarg Slaving Company.

Carrying a retractable shock whip, Vortex 8-gage shot gun tucked away just barely in his overcoat, his Yun Yammka sword in its hilt around a sturdy torso, Cadoc found a particular street with a stretch of bars, cantinas and nightclubs where the neon was bright, but the patronage anything but. Humans, near-humans, aliens and cyborgs were here to dull their senses with alcohol, spice and vice – both common and unimaginable.

He smelled the air, and his sharp feline senses told him he’d been here before. And the last time, my weapons were not a problem, Cadoc thought, entering the familiar club. His attention was drawn to whistling and catcalls, so heavy boots sticking to the floor as he walked – the Maker only knew what had been spilled on it – the Zygerrian followed the sound, until he reached the area where Joza Perl was putting on an impromptu show. Whenever she rose, not clinging to her barstool, she wobbled like a baby gazelle on the plains of Shili. Remaining on the fringes of the crowd, Cadoc ordered an Adumari beer for himself and sipped it slowly, his yellow slitted eyes not moving from the Zeltron and her admirers.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

A few stumbles or missteps didn’t cause the young Zeltron to give up—after all, she could gyrate perfectly well whilst seated. And Joza did just that, swiveling her hips along with her chest, arms raised above her head and bending as if she were dancing to some unheard music, only lowering to grab another shot or two. The movements were natural and practiced—well they would be, had she not been inebriated. Instead of subtle and mischievous, the makeshift dance was more raunchy and overextended, assets on display with the low-cut, tight outfit she wore. She paused again to grab another shot as it was passed to her, giggling in amusement as she did so, hips still swaying haphazardly. Why did she even bother bringing a wallet?

At one point she even tried to climb atop the bar but nearly fell, twisting her ankle in the process. “Kark it!” She snarled, hair falling messily over her shoulder while one of the patrons caught her before she could do more damage to herself, his hand quickly sliding from her back to her behind. “Hey!” Joza swatted at him, shooting him a half-hearted glare for a few moments before bursting into laughter. She was beyond the point to figure out if she should even care or not, but then again she did enjoy the attention.

The man backed off from touching her at least, which was enough for Joza. Frankly, she wouldn’t have minded much if he continued to pursue her—he was decent looking, and she figured she’d end up going home with someone here tonight. Deep down, that was probably her goal. To drown herself in drink and ecstasy until she couldn’t feel the burn of her bad choices.

Sighing, the pink tinted young woman practically collapsed against the stool, attempting to wave away the onlookers. “Show’s over, boys.”

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Cadoc slid a credit chit to the bartender along with his semi-automatic weapon. "Keep this back there," he growled, and the barkeep complied. The Zygerrian slaver wasn't sure he even needed the weapon based on the performance that he saw. But he also beckoned the bartender for another drink, one for her. Cadoc imagined she enjoyed some type of fruity and sweet concoction so that's what he ordered. Right or wrong, he clutched the glass in his large hand and approaching the area where the pink-skinned near human was dancing.

"But the show is just beginning," Cadoc said boldly handing her the drink.

Sipping his own ale confidently, the Zygerrian slaver pulled Joza up with his strong arm. It wasn't forceful. His touch was protective, the kind of stranger who would help her get home safely.

"You, my dear, are too good for this bar," he said. "Your dancing is magical."

She was on the edge, and he needed to broach this subject carefully or else she would swat him away as well, and Cadoc didn't relish taking the girl by force. But the Zeltron was perfect in every way. Cadoc tried not to get excited over the merchandise, but like the other beings in the bar, he was just as entranced by Joza as they were.

"What is it you want, my dear?" he asked. "Credits? An audience? Or an ear to bend?"

Licking his muzzle, his long hair cascading down his back, Cadoc said, "I could be all of those."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“Hm?” Joza tilted her eyes up towards the tall stranger who had approached her, red waves falling over her shoulder as she tossed her head. She was trying to figure out what to make of the man when he handed her a drink, and then she felt his arm around her, helping center her woozy constitution. After analyzing him for a few moments, she offered the man a large smile before taking a sip from the drink, and humming thoughtfully, as if her opinion of him would be swayed by the choice in beverage.

“Why thank you~” She lowered the glass from her lips, a light and playful drawl in her words. It seemed as if she decided to like him and allowed herself to relish the feeling of his muscular arm against her. Letting her head fall against his shoulder, green eyes would roll up to appraise him again, looking for any hidden motives as he prompted her. “I dunno,” She shrugged, her mind swimming too quickly to think any deeper beyond the moment. “Are you making me an offer?” She’d glance up at him, eyes glazed over in inebriation and lips parted slightly.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

“In a way, I suppose I am,” Cadoc replied, attempting to hide his thick Zygerrian accent. Hopefully she didn’t recognize it as such, but there had been occasions when his species or way of speaking gave his intentions away.

“But what you want, and what I can provide is completely up to you,” he said, leaning in to get closer to her. She would hear a rumble in his thorax, a feline purring noise he was able to make that set most females at ease. Perhaps it made them feel he was as safe as their beloved house cat pets.

“Even if you just need a friend to walk you to your apartment or hotel or whevever you happen to be staying. Believe me, it’s rough out there. I’m a bodyguard by trade,” he lied. “Used to protecting the interests of others. But on the streets there was talk of a gang fight taking place right outside. If we leave now, we can probably avoid that."

He appraised her with his yellow eyes, and Joza may just think he was admiring her smile, skin and those curves, but in reality, he was judging her for value. Did she have any scars? Tattoos? Were her teeth crooked or straight? Was her hair naturally that striking red color, or did she dye it? Was she a spice addict? All of this mattered to the highest bidders, yet at times, none of it mattered depending on the client.

But overall, Cadoc was positive the Zeltron would fetch a really good price, especially on the black markets where buyers were wealthy but anonymous – many of them Republican senators who did not want to get caught with slaves. The open market tended to be slaves for the workforce or Twi’lek dancers for Hutts. But this one… she was a prize indeed. One that the Slave Master of Drukarg wouldn’t mind sampling for himself.

“What’s your name? And do you need me to escort you home?”

He didn’t want to judge her or push the issue that she was too drunk to be walking alone – which she was regardless of his plan. In his experience, inebriated females could be a powder keg of emotion and sometimes raw anger. But treated with kid gloves they were relatively easy to capture.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza continued to gaze up at the felid man beside her, likely assuming that he was a Cathar due to her lack of bearings. But she did not shoo him away, rather there was a rapt curiosity about her regarding him. Unlike some of the patrons that approached her this evening, he spoke with confidence but not arrogance, moving in an assured manner. This spoke to Joza, subconsciously reeling her in with his charming mannerisms.

The vague rumbing of his throat could be heard over the background noise of the bar, and it caused the young woman to soften somewhat. Her guard would slowly begin to fall as she became further intrigued and entranced by this handsome stranger. When he spoke of a gang fight taking place soon, her face took on a look of heavy concentration—well, as much as it could for a heavily inebriated drunk. The Zeltron was good at getting out of trouble, but even in her state she was aware that she had her limits. For a moment, she wondered if she should try and call Khalan to escort her out instead of this stranger, but didn’t want to burden the young bounty hunter by having him track her down and carry her back to his apartment. After all, she doubted that she could even remember the name or approximate location of the establishment she was currently in.

A grin split her face as she felt his eyes on her, and she placed her elbow on the counter of the bar—well, tried to. She slipped the first time, nearly falling forward and face-first into the man’s lap before catching herself. Settling her elbow firmly onto the actual bar top this time, she rested her chin in her hands as a mischievous look twinkled in her eyes. “I know what you’re up to…” She giggled, letting her words hang in the air for a few moments before licking her lips and finishing the rest of her statement. “You want to take me home tonight. That’s why you’re trying to get me out of the bar.” She smirked as if she was some great detective happening upon some grand conclusion.

“Although…I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” She rolled her shoulders in a subtle shrug, her voice taking on a near faux-innocent tone. “I hurt my knee earlier, so I’ll need some help getting back to my hotel room.” It was actually her ankle that was twisted, but the at least she’d gotten the right limb. Ankle, knee, it was all attached to the same leg!

“I’m Joza.” She chirped, green eyes glittering behind a cloudy layer of inebriation. “And yeah, that would be nice!”

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

The Zeltron seemed pleased with his presence, which at time he would not exploit. Cadoc was on his best behavior which meant suppressing his need to leap upon the pink-skinned near human and take her right then and there. The Slave Master of Drukarg had his way with many slaves and eventually this would be no exception. But he had business to attend to, which was, at times, the hardest part of his job. If left to his own devices he would take her into his arms, nuzzle her neck with his whiskers and…

But She trusted him. Business-wise things were working out in his favor.

"Jozzzzzaaa," he purred. "I can help you with your injury."

Did they go to her hotel or his ship? He wasn't sure… if he snatched her right now, she was likely to put up a fight.

"Let's go to your hotel," he said, nuzzling her with his whiskers. "You'll be most comfortable there." He promised her more purring, fur and kisses with his rough tongue.

Winking at the bartender, who tossed him back his semi-automatic, which he quickly tucked away, he escorted the lovely Zeltron away from the seedy bar and on the way to her hotel. The fact that she was so drunk was not a deterrent at all. In fact, it helped the slaver's ultimate goal.

All of the lovely creatures in the galaxy make their own decisions, Cadoc thought. And Joza's decision puts her right into my hands.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“Hmmm?” The woozy Zeltron tilted her head in an exaggerated motion, the purring of her new friend enticing her closer to him. “You can help me walk?” She questioned, though a quick glance at his body assured her that he’d be able to support her weight quite easily. At this point she didn’t care if he simply wanted to escort her back safely or was after her body—she likely wouldn’t remember the encounter, and her heavy inebriation impaired her judgement to the point where she couldn’t figure out if he was just being friendly or wanting to take her to bed. Either way, she haphazardly placed her trust in him.

A girlish giggle escaped her lips and she scrunched her face slightly as his whiskers brushed against her neck and cheek. “Okay.” She answered simply, seemingly content with the bold stranger. Wobbling, she stood from the bar stool and instinctively reached out to grasp his arm in order to steady her body. Judging from how much help she needed as they left the bar, she was liable to pass out either en route or soon after making it to her hotel.

As they walked out of the bar, Joza inhaled deeply when the brisk air hit her face, though it did nothing to sober her. “Ummm…” She drawled, turning her head quickly to look around and suddenly stopping as she began to get dizzy. “It’s…down there. That way. A few b…blocks.” She pointed wildly in emphasis, stumbling over her feet and words at this point.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

The Nar Shaddaa air was heavily perfumed with cheap fragrance and the smell of fish, neither of which were that malodorous to the Zygerrian, but the city of Theed it was not. The blast of hot city wind only served to make Joza even drunker. Perhaps all of those shots are catching up to her, thought Cadoc. Feth, am I going to have to carry her?

Not that it would be a struggle for him, but if any type of local authorities – few and far between of course, but still – saw the slaver carrying an unconscious Zeltron? Again, he’d rather keep up the charade of the two of them dashing off for a heated, one night stand.

“Stay with me, Joza,” Cadoc said in an even-keeled voice, trying to keep his temper under control. Even if the lovely near-human turned out to be feisty, once he got her back to her hotel, he would relish the fight. It was one of his favorite parts of the acquisition.

“Is this it?” he asked at a hotel he would assume the Zeltron would pick. It was modest but wasn’t a complete dive. Adjacent to the lodgings there was a dancer’s club called Twenty-Three as indicated by the huge neon sign above the entrance.

​

“Come now,” Cadoc coaxed Joza as she weaved along. While her heels accentuated her long, pink legs, they were only making walking more difficult in her state. “Let’s find your room and I’ll tuck you in.” The Slaver of Drukarg had to suppress a rumbling laugh over his last statement. He was going to do anything but put a blanket over her and sing her a lullaby.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

It took all of Joza’s concentration not to bend her ankles to a snapping point as she fumbled around in her heels. Normally she could handle stilettos when buzzed, but she was far beyond being able to properly control her legs balancing on sticks at this point. “M’ good, I’m good.” She assured him, nearly grunting as she poured all of her focus into not tumbling over.

When they stopped in front of one of the many brightly lit buildings, Joza looked up with a dumb look. “Uhm…” She squinted, suddenly finding the harsh neon lights too abrasive. “Yep, this is it!” She confirmed, readjusting her grip on his arm while balancing in her heels. She smiled softly at the thought of being tucked it as it actually sounded quite nice right about now.

“Okay, room…room…” Joza reached in to her purse, rummaging around for an extended amount of time before finally retrieving what resembled a keycard with her room number printed on it. Thankfully she was on the lower floor and it didn’t take long for her to match up the numbers and find the appropriate room. “Here we go!” She announced as she pressed the keycard against the panel on the wall, the door sliding open a moment after. Wobbling in to the room, Joza sighed, seemingly relieved to have made it back in one piece. Turning to face her escort, she offered him a grin. “Thanks! You’re really nice.”

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Cadoc was solemn and stoic, the picture of an innocent gentleman doing his civic duty to get a drunken lady to her hotel. He noticed the room she’d rented was on a lower floor, and in this case, he needed to be careful – both with making too much noise and eventually evacuating the hotel with his prize. As Joza fumbled with her keycard, the Zygerrian slaver noted all of the lifts, exits and stairwells in case he needed to make a quick getaway, preferably with her, but without her if she turned out to be one of those witchy Force users. But this wasn’t something Cadoc could tell as he was not Force sensitive. And surely a Jedi wouldn’t be out on in Nar Shaddaa dives, shimmying on the top of a bar like a Twi’lek dancing at a Hutt’s palace.

Once they were into the room, and Joza turned to Cadoc, grinning, he gently stroked the side of her face with his large soft paw. She was so innocent, and while the Slave Master of Drukarg rarely felt pity, certainly not empathy for his captives, he felt a momentary pang of regret that Joza trusted him so completely. It was also rare that any females wanted the large feline in an amorous sense without being coerced in some way. Not that Cadoc wasn’t a handsome Zygerrian specimen, but once his livelihood was exposed, most women who seemed willing at first, found some way to excuse themselves and slip out of his grasp.

And here was this beautiful Zeltron, looking up at him with lusty, albeit inebriated heavy-lidded eyes. Wouldn’t it be nice, just this one, Cadoc to have the slave be willing? He had plenty of unwilling targets on which he could inflict his misery on later.

Reaching around her, he slipped his hand up her swan-like neck, softly twirling his fingers through her hair and then pulling her magenta locks just a little firmer. He drew close to her, emitting a loud, rumbling purr that she could almost feel on her skin. "Such a beautiful creature you are," he growled. "You probably have most men eating out of the palm of your hand, eh?"

Hopefully, Cadoc had her now where he wanted her. Taking her off Nar Shaddaa would be easy at this point, so his sharp mind now turned to a different kind of game. How much could he make her writhe in ecstasy tonight, only to wake up a few hours later or in the morning imprisoned, bound and about to embark on her new life as a slave up for auction.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Unfortunately for the fumbling Zeltron, her danger sense had been greatly dulled by the alcohol. Not that it would have likely been much help—the young thing had a penchant for situations that held a touch of danger, especially when they turned amorous as she’d hoped this one would come to be. But as the seconds ticked by, her eyes seemed to lid more out of fatigue than lust, but the interest in her companion kept her awake for the time being.

She practically purred herself and leaned into his paw, relishing the feeling of his soft fur on her face. And when that paw moved to slide up her neck and twine itself in her hair, she couldn’t help but move closer to the feeling. He was doing everything right with her—the way he held himself, the way he touched her indicated that she would not be disappointed tonight. The Zeltron gave in easily to lust, and it only created a bigger weak spot the drunker she became.

Giggling girlishly at his comment, she tilted her head to the side to catch his eyes with her own once more. “Like right now?” Her voice dropped an octave, and suddenly she winced as a dull ache throbbed against the side of her head. Get out!

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Joza waited for the headache to pass—but the further she fell into Cadoc’s grasp, the stronger the warning had become until she was on the precipice of the rabbit hole.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

“Ah yes, right now,” Cadoc said, finally lifting her up off her feet. The Zeltron was so light she was practically sack full of goose down in his arms. “You will have me eating off of other places as well,” he teased. “I promise you that.”

Bootsteps thumping with each step, he walked over to the large bed and deposited her there. The slaver noticed her wincing, so from his tunic he pulled out a small piece of flimsi and unwrapped it. Two tiny, green lacy leaves sat in the middle of the package.

“Here, this will make you feel better,” he said, handing it to her. “Ingest it. I will too, so you know it’s safe.”

The Slaver of Drukarg rarely ever indulged in spice, but the Savorium herb would make both of them feel incredible euphoria, Joza’s more pronounced, obviously as it mixed with the high volume of alcohol already in her system. The Zygerrian knew he’d taken just enough to not completely lose all of his sense - only to heighten what he was beginning to anticipate now a little more urgently.

Letting loose a low rumbling in his chest again, he slowly crept up to Joza where she lay and began to unfasten the buttons on her top. "Soon you will feel nothing but rapture... no pain, no anxiety," he continued slowly as though charming a skittish doe.

And once she was asleep, post-bliss, he'd be able to secure his prize enough, smuggle her out and take her to The Screaming Brezak which was parked in a nearby hangar.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

At his veiled promise, Joza nearly shuddered in anticipation in his arms. When one spoke like that, it was far too easy to seduce the Zeltron. As a physical manifestation of her eagerness, her tongue darted from its mouth and quickly traced the outline of her lips before retreating.

Her skin tingled at the feel of the sheets beneath her as Cadoc laid her on the bed, and she shifted slightly in hopes that a different angle of her head would alleviate the pain. The movement only served to make her head swim, and her clouded eyes flickered to his hand as he produced a pair of herbal leaves. She didn’t immediately recognize what they were, and for a moment her eyes narrowed as the pulsing in her head grew stronger.

Get out…!

Even if she wanted to leave—and she wasn’t sure what she wanted—it was likely that she couldn’t. With that in mind, the Zeltron made the easy choice of ingesting the spice and giving in. The large man’s words only served to urge her further, and she complied without much struggle. By now she only wanted to cease the foreboding pounding against her skull, and thanks to the spice it began to fade rather quickly.

A gasp of pleasure left her lips, lingering there as he began to undress her. Joza would surrender herself completely to him, undoubtedly seduced by his charm and confidence that promised a pleasurable romp in the sheets. The voice in her head would attempt to call out to her, but the substances she’d taken over the course of the night effectively silenced it as she allowed herself to surrender to him and sink completely into a night of bliss.

[SIZE=11pt]She’d fallen into a heavy sleep rather quickly after things had died down, the events of the night catching up to her.[/SIZE]

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Cadoc had enjoyed the company of Zeltron slaves before, either as a reward for a lucrative capture, or at times, on his own accord when his employer Aava was away, and he wouldn’t be found handling the merchandise. He enjoyed their fun-loving and hedonistic charms.

But Joza was a specimen like no other. Sure, she was inebriated, spiced-up and sleepy, but her body responded to his large, demanding frame like the expert she was at physical relations. Whether he were rough or gentle, like a yielding clay she molded perfectly to his caress, grip or even playful slap on her lower flanks.

The Zygerrian had his fill and when they were both done, he lay in wait while the Zeltron turned over in the bed and peacefully went to sleep. Cadoc lifted himself up from the mattress and began the second part of his job tonight: securing the girl so that he could transport her. Quietly, he pulled out all of the tools he would need. First were stun cuffs, a slender version for female slaves which he carefully placed upon Joza’s lithe wrists, in the front so that he wouldn’t need to move her arms and wake her. Second, he had no idea whether she was a Force user or not, so taking no chances, he fasted a Force Suppression collar around her neck, watching her soft breathing the entire time to make sure she remained asleep.

His sharp hearing picked up signs of activity in the hallway, so he waited, smoking a cigarra out the balcony. Once the corridor was quiet again, the Slave Master of Drukarg, rifled through the Zeltron’s clothing to take anything of value, then wrapped her in a white sheet and whispering, "Up we go," he gently hoisted her over his shoulder. Opening the door and silently slipping out, Cadoc was ready with his semi-automatic in case he was stopped, but he snuck down the emergency stairwell, out into the streets and carefully made his way to The Screaming Brezak, bribing the custom officials to look the other way as he loaded his pink-skinned prize onto the Aurore-Class II Zygerrian Slaving vessel.

Joza would awake in one of the ship’s cells, alone, but on a bare mattress, dressed only in the white sheet from the Nar Shaddaa hotel room. Cadoc would be nearby, but not immediately in her line of sight.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

None the wiser as she was being restrained and transported, Joza slipped into an unsettling dream. It was similar to a vision she’d had on Ilum when she’d gone to collect her first lightsaber crystal. She was back on Zeltros, crammed into a booth in some club with a gaggle of other pink skinned creatures. They were either chatting excitedly, drinking, indulging in spice or beginning to get physical with one another. Joza swore that she could feel the leather of the couch against her upper thighs and the layer of cigarra smoke in the air tickle her nose, as realistic as everything had seemed.

And then, taking a turn from where her vision had previously gone, the smoke grew thicker and the pleasantries began to fade from the Zeltrons. They grew panicked as the room grew heated, screams following billows of thick, acrid smoke as it poured into the room. Strangely, as those around her choked on the plumes of smoke and scrambled to leave, Joza could feel nothing negative. But nothing good either. She simply…was.

And then, the dull pounding in the back of her skull began. Slowly, her dream world would melt, albeit unconvincingly at first. The substance crash was hitting her hard, and it took a few minutes for Joza to rouse and fully comprehend that she was not where she was supposed to be. She went through the events of last night in her head, recalling meeting Cadoc and bits of their blissful evening together, but it hadn’t hit her yet.

Rolling onto her back, she went to run a hand through her hair, tugging at her bonds. And that was when it hit her. Rising suddenly, the chains would clink as pain exploded through her skull from the sharp movement. Wincing, the captive Zeltron would steady herself before looking around frantically. Her first instinct was to heighten her strength with the Force and attempt to tear the chains from her arms, but when she found that she could not do that, well, panic and realization set in.

She groaned audibly in frustration and irritation, righting herself on the mattress so that she was sitting up, arms pressed to her sides so that the sheet would not fall and expose her. “I know you’re here. Now come here so I can rip your whiskers out!” She roared, the sound of her own voice sending another sharp pain through her head. As angry as she was, her heat began to beat rapidly in her chest. She had no Force, no immediate weapons, was bound and naked on a ship heading to who knows where. Certainly not the best of situations for her.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

At Joza's protest, Cadoc laughed long and hard. The Zeltron would be able to hear him nearby, his inhuman chuckle, and then the scrape of metal on stone as though he were sharpening a blade. Tucking his sword into his belt, he approached the cell where his lovely prize sat, with only a cold, white sheet wrapped around her.

"Well look at you," he said. "The little extrovert at the bar. We had a good time together didn't we, Pateesa?"

He stalked in front of her pen as though he were the one caged up, and perhaps he was. Perhaps, I'd like to take this little gypsy all for myself, away from this cruel life, Cadoc thought. But the Slave Master of Drukarg was loyal to only one. Aava. And Aava already had her feelers out for a Master who wanted to buy Joza. The girl would fetch a huge amount of credits, Cadoc was sure of it. It was exactly why his employer told him that he could not touch her, feel her or caress her as he longed to do.

No. She was merchandise now for a bid in an anonymous auction.

"I'd like to see you try it," he said. "But you and I are both bound to the same Master now. Your time on this ship is transitory. But unfortunately, I cannot make it any more comfortable than you are now." This last bit was said with apathetic glee. If Joza was to survive the Zyggerian slave ship she would have to remain in the slaver's good graces for the duration of the journey.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Cadoc’s laugh sent a surge of anger through her chest, a feeling she latched on to in an attempt to smother her growing fear. She’d rather feel anger burning at the back of her mind than despair gripping at her soul. At least, she though it would make things easier.

As the felid man appeared before her, a low growl rumbled in her throat in response to his words. “I wouldn’t remember,” She spat, her tone laced with nothing less than outright resentment for the now apparent slaver. She had pieced the situation together slowly, almost feeling as if she were still in a dream of sorts. Part of her prayed that she really was dreaming.

As comfortable with her own nudity as she was, something about this situation made Joza uneasy. Perhaps it was because everything about it was involuntary on her behalf, but she felt embarrassed to be caught in nothing but a bed sheet. Typically she wouldn’t, but she also wasn’t usually confined in a cage and restrained.

Upper lip curled into a snarl, she glared at the man hovering above her, seeming unafraid in the moment, not allowing herself to comprehend the potentially dangerous situation she was in. Instead, as she had wanted, her anger took over. Anger at letting herself be so vulnerable with a charming stranger to the point where she’d been stripped of anything that could help her. She growled again in frustration, this time louder and laced with more irritation at the notes of apathy in his words. “Bantha karker!” She snapped, attempting to spit on him from her grounded location.

[member="Cadoc Raal"]

 

[Armand Temi]

"You can spit, my dear," said Cadoc. "But it won't matter much to your Master."

Pulling out his shock whip and snapping it dramatically, he said, "You are your Master's prize now."

The Zygerrian snuffed the air… he could smell her. Everything about her was captivating and stunning. He felt a slight stir in his breast at the perfect near-human- what a lovely possession she would make - but quickly he knew he'd never have her.

"Until then you need to sleep," he cautioned. "There's a long night ahead of us." He thought momentarily of giving her something to ease the pain in her head, but it was better if the slaves were brought out to auction in a state of bewilderment and occasionally agony.

Cadoc, like her sentinel, sat down on the outside of the cage. He was going to make sure she'd survive the journey. The credits ahead of them were too large to ignore.

[member="Joza Perl"]