Coldest Glass Beckons

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Close, very close, too close for comfort if it hadn't been her.

Just as she retreated from the snap of her teeth, he pushed in himself, sharp angles flashing as Xian snapped back. Almost a kiss shared in the air, meaning relayed through the profession of violence. "Sharp enough to please." Before Xian snickered and following after her- this sadly wasn't the time for any of this. His steps were light now, it took him a moment to really get a hang out of his mind floating two steps from his body... but it felt good. Good enough that Xian wanted more and once they got out of this mess?

He'd find out where he could get more.

The trip down was short, sweet and far too easy for comfort. After everything had gone wrong at least once during this jaunt through the shadowport, the Twi'lek was just wondering when the next thing would go wrong.

They descended and landed in one of the corridors. He took a moment to recenter himself, difficult when everything was floating and all shades of purple, but this wasn't his first trip. It wasn't difficult to disconcern reality from fiction, when you had seen reality warp into a mess under the influence of glitterstim and the sort. "Through here," Over his shoulder the guidance came. They passed a corridor and ended up at another reinforced durasteel door.

It had markings on it, scorched metal where plasma had tried to burn through it.

"Might still be around, whoever did this." Xian mumbled, before walking up to the controls. Keypad- it had been screwed open and left there, but they hadn't been successful.

He pushed the keypad back, reenabling it before trying out a code.

It bleeped red.

"Hrrm," One more, red. Third one, red. Fourth one, green green green. The doors hissed open and revealed shadows, but also beeping lights lighting up the room in a steady interval of blue hues. "Keep forgetting his birthday, hmm."

 

[Blackthorne]

Quiet down here.

Very quiet.

Blackthorne had shifted her rifle and blaster to her good hand, using the bad arm to stoke her habit - good to be ambidextrous in these cases. The woman kept point while her guide lead the way, movements clipped but subdued. She waited in a patient fog of smoke while he muttered to himself over the entry keypad. Tech wasn't exactly her thing and were it up to her she'd have made a new door. But that's where having a multitude of skilled peoples on a crew came in handy. Kiin likely would have taken the lead here, that techie-dweeb.

As the door hissed open she turned to peer through the haze of pale purple, stepping in after him to a room of archival servers and consoles.

"Well mate," the woman ashed her Sten, "hope you get along with computers better than I do."

Blackthorne thought she spied a smirk on his face but he'd turned to head off towards what appeared to be a central hub near the middle.

"Tree, right?"

"Aye," replied the woman, "Neti. Odd choice for a slave."

Or maybe not such an odd choice for someone not looking for a slave ... but a source, like her. Neti were infamously long-lived and if their sources were correct, this particular Neti had been around for centuries. Long enough to have met Mar, or at the very least one of his Crew. Quiet steps took her across carpeted floor to where the twi'lek had taken up a seat behind the main hub and sat illuminated by blue in a cloud of violet smoke. The colors suited him.

Data filled the screen as he set to work, green eyes looming over his shoulder to watch before turning down along the markings of his skull to the lekku hanging at his back. She hadn't a great deal of interaction with twi'lek and what there had been was rather lost in memories muddled by spice. Lekku were sensitive, as she recalled, very sensitive; damned if she wasn't curious to find out again just what sort of responses she could elicit out of him.

Faint sounds from the hall beyond drew her attention. The Captain leaned down, hand at the back of his chair, to skim over the files he was searching through.

"We've got company," the warm flesh of her jaw brushed over the base of his left headtail as the woman turned to leave his side, patting his shoulder and letting her fingers traipse along the fleshy appendage as she left, "take your time."

Time to go assess the situation in the hall.

 

[Arage Bao]

Xian wasn't good at tech either.

It was something you either grasped as a child or didn't, as a slave there was little... opportunity for that kind of curriculum. The fact that he could read was as good at it would get for him. But this wasn't the first time for him in this archive - a trusted slaver with an attitude for no-nonsense? In the past questions were immediately answered by showing him the books directly, instead of trying to circle around the problem.

So, it was a Net-

The briefest touches on his lekku caused a shiver up and down his spine. Eyes closed briefly, leaning into it, before Xian growled softly and got a hold of himself.

Difficult with how close she was, breath washing over him, touching and the cigarette tugging at his breath. "They got shet for timing, give 'em hell." Xian rumbled heavily, before breathing out - his breath had been held - and refocusing his attention on the display in front of him.

The shooting in the distance started a few moments later.

The slaver started humming at the tune, while copying the files and then... after a thought deleting them from the record entirely. For some reason Xian thought it would be best if people weren't aware where the Neti was going.

Pushing himself off the Twi'lek left the seat, checking up to see Thorne all bloody with corpses around her.

"Got the data, wanna get outta here?"

 

[Blackthorne]

A rather terrorized looking young man hung in the clutches of the Captain's good arm, spurting blood all over her front from an open chest wound. Blackthorne had just begun to lean in for snack -

"Got the data, wanna get outta here?"

- she stopped short, nose wrinkled, sniffed, snapped the man's neck and dropped him. He landed like a split sack of potatoes.

"Verily," replied the Pirate.


The journey back through the station seemed quicker this time but not without its challenges. Striking across maintenance halls to avoid the greater battle had come at the price of getting detoured more than once. For their efforts a Mech Suit now whined and whirred with only one leg; many gangs had learned to fear a pink and purple marked twi'lek, and several more souls were summarily sucked dry.

Arriving finally at the Slaver's ship, Blackthorne spared no time to form an opinion of it. If it flew it was the ship for her. The freighter's engines seemed eager to fire up and they were leaving the holocaust scene of the docks behind in little time. Xian narrowly avoided collision with an Alliance Cruiser and peeled off for the fastest route out of dodge.

Pirate joined Slaver in the bridge, waiting for them to come well clear of the frantic traffic surrounding the shadowport before using his Comms to patch through to her own ship.

"Captain!"
"Kiin, what's your status?"
"We had to make an unannounced exit - Alliance vessels started showing up. Someone must have shot off their mouth -"
"They would have found it sooner or later. Head back to the Cove and wait for orders."
"What about you?"
"Chasing our target, no time to transfer, can't lose the trail."
"Aye Captain."

Clek.

Blackthorne leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, loosing a long exhale, "Well if that didn't go perfectly un-according to plan."

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Somewhere during the struggle Xian had earned a nick across the outer-side of his thigh.

Hadn't noticed it until the slaver sat down and fire starting burning through his veins. Gritted teeth and nerves of steel managed to get them out of dodge, literally dodging an Alliance cruiser, before they jumped to Hyperspace and got to safety.

Good thing those shuttas hadn't activated their interdictors yet.

While Thorne was talking, Xian was carefully knitting together the wound. Once again his hands moved with accuracy, a certain sense of calm and expertise, especially surprising considering it had to hurt like nobody's business. But all that tipped it off was a light shine on his forehead, jaw set and eyes almost unfocused as they eyed his handiwork.

"Got that right," Xian snorted, before kicking back softly without putting pressure on the leg and looking over to her, "Had a few... fun moments there though."

Lips curled upwards in a smirk.

 

[Blackthorne]

A thin brow larked followed by the sliver of striking green. Blackthorne slowly tipped her head to the side as she leaned it back against the head rest to give the man's smirk some consideration.

She met it with her own, "Aye."

A glance was given to the torn material of his pants and the successful stitch job peeking through. She'd never had a need for stitches so she had no inkling of what skill he apparently possessed in the matter.

"So not only were you a slave," harkening back to his own commentary on herself, "but you know your way around a slave-trade station well enough to bypass main security and steal delicate trade info from their archive hub."

The woman held a hand out with a pointed look. Her delicate trade info, to be exact. She gestured with her fingers to cough it up.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Anyone else might have joked around with the datachip, but Xian pushed himself off his seat and sauntered over with only a slight limp.

Hands touched briefly as the chip was dispensed.

"Aye," The Twi'lek echoed hers a moment later, briefly his attention slipped into memories. Long ones, some pain, some pleasure, some bad, but none of them having any meaning anymore. He had cast of his shackles, the memories had no power over him. "Stopped being a slave when I killed my last master, slaver by the name of Baya."

Bemused look.

"Killed his lieutenants too, rest were all too eager to follow me after that."

Xian didn't keep it a secret that he was a slaver. Why would he? There was nothing shameful about being strong, strong enough to enforce your will on the weak.

That was life in a nutshell after all.

 

[Blackthorne]

Hmm. The woman's eyes rounded as he dispensed the datachip into her hand, pupils dilating to examine the prize of the day. She kicked her heels off the console to rise back to a stand, thumbing along the various control panels before finding one to plug the chip into.

"And look how well you turned out; sterling, tough, intrepid," she gestured to him with her good hand before planting it casually on her hip while engaging the holodisplay with the other, "a more striking example of esoteric blaschko'n slaver with headtails there is not."

Not that she'd met many striped slavers with headtails, but flattery is as flattery does. She turned to page ponderously through the data with her back to him.

"There's a poem or star shanty out there just waiting to be written about you...hmm, Tchalra Slaver's port. Familiar?"

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Amusement was palpable as Thorne flattered him mercilessly, but while others would have received a roll of the eye... somehow here Valart did not seem to mind.

Maybe it was still a figment of the drug resting at the back of his mind or maybe it was the brief touch of her skin against his back at the station, but either way; Valart simply smirked, before stepping closer and brushing against her. Not for the touch, of course, but to get a better look at the data she was scrolling through. Specifically the mention of Tchalra Slaver's Port, which seemed very familiar to him, even if he couldn't quite figure it out right now. Warm press of her body, again, it stirred up memories; if not the ones that were most useful right now. "Aye, heard of it... can't quite pla-" Then Valart blinked.

Before requesting control over the console with a gesture of a hand.

"Tchalra... knew that lad, once. Ah, yeah, here we go." From the depths of the old records he pulled out a map of Wild Space. Some of the routes were clandestine; ripped out of salvaged wrecks after a fierce battle, others explored by himself, but with another flick of the finger it zoomed in a bit.

"Station used to be called Freedom's Call, few clicks away from Styx, Tchalra... smart lad, used to be an outlaw tech," The Twi'lek frowned for a moment. "-never was very good with names though."

Leaning against the console Xian looked over at her again. "That's where your tree is?"

 

[Blackthorne]

"That's where my tree is going," intoned the woman, shifting beneath the twi'lek looking over her shoulder. The proximity was of no consequence to her - physicality was all part of communication - but she supposed she hadn't really taken notice of how exceptionally tall he was until just now.

You know, without the distraction of blaster bolts, fires, rampaging gang wars, rocket launching mecha, and so forth and so on. It all came full circle, causing the woman to blink in curious wonder. Had he always been that tall? Perhaps the trick of raging inferno light did something to his physical appearance. She smirked despite herself.

"That's where I need to be going," the Pirate turned to face the Slaver beneath his hunched over, leaning frame, "Savvy?"

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

He looked slightly down at the smirking lady.

"That a fact?" Xian mumbled, while going back and forth between her eyes and her lips, then the teeth flashing dangerously alluring as the smirk widened. "Suppose you will want your esoteric blaschko'n slaver to give you a drive then."

Now Xian was smirking, slightly while wondering how long a trip that would be. Long, at least a week, considering they would have to first make sure the Alliance hadn't tagged them.

Then use the Corridor probably.

Quickest way there. "Seem to recall making you a promise back there. Gonna be a long week getting to Tchalra," Xian leaned in ever so slightly. "-wanna pick things up were we left them?"

 

[Blackthorne]

"That would be infinitely more efficient than most alternatives..."

Considering the likelihood of her missing her target at the next checkpoint by the time she'd found another ride, sticking with her current situation seemed the smartest route. There was always the option of killing him and taking his ship, but that was hardly conducive to building partnerships with useful individuals that operated in the same circles.

Always good to have acquaintances in the right places. Never knew when they'd come in handy.

Or handsy.

"Seem to recall making you a promise back there. Gonna be a long week getting to Tchalra," Xian leaned in ever so slightly. "-wanna pick things up were we left them?"

Blackthorne's expression turned coy, "Must have jogged m'brain back there in the elevator. You'll have to remind me where it was we left off."

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

"Then I suppose efficiency is what we should strive for..."

Head tilted slightly, recognizing the coy expression for what it was. Hands moved, slowly, but steadily in immediate reply. One rested on her hip, "-if memory serves right one hand was here," and the other concluded on her shoulder, where he pushed her lightly against the console. "...the other might have been here,"

By then Xian had leaned in closer, smirk turning into a smile, teeth sharp. "Might be taking some creative freedom."

Unless she stopped him there, Xian would close the gap there and then. Short, didn't even realize how short until now. Wasn't that strange with the presence and confidence she exerted at any given moment, but right now that short was complicating things.

By now the press would be hard, before Xian pushed her up with spoken ease.

 

[Blackthorne]

Pirate found herself hoisted onto the console like some kind of windshield bobble but she took it in stride. Had to be adaptable to meet people in the middle - only fair. Blackthorne glanced to the hands in consideration. Something was off. Missing.

Brow knit, she lifted the hand of her good arm and roughly grabbed the front of the man's shirt, pulling him closer still.

She looked at the sharp teeth behind his smile and gave an easy smile back of her own, "It was here, wasn't it?"

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

"I see you do remember." From there the distance was bridged, lips meeting, melding and hunger taking over for them.

Hands shifted, supported, held, brought closer and tightened shut throughout it. A mixture of breath rising, taste deepening and sensation growing under the stress of friction brushing against them. It took a fair amount of time to get it out of their system.

Eventually, after the console became the chair became the wall became the shower, it became the bed where Xian groaned just a bit.

"Sharp teeth," he mumbled while trying not to touch the wound on his neck. He shifted slightly, giving her a breath more room. It was her shoulder that was karked to hell and back after all. "Wasn't as bad as I expected though."

Smirk up again.

 

[Blackthorne]

"I could say the same for a seven foot tall twi'lek," Blackthorne muttered in reply, a wry glance cast his way. Laying on her side, good shoulder weight bearing, arm to her injured shoulder folded between them, the diminutive woman found herself sated and sleepy.

"Would offer you a bacta patch but it's not my ship," had to take care of your willing meals, after all, especially if you wanted them to remain willing and in healthy condition. Wasn't much worse than feeding from an infected host.

"Where's your lighter?"

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

"It's fine." Xian grumbled softly, rolling from one side to the other. He looked over the edge of the bed- right, no pants... the kriff are they? Probably left somewhere where they started, but that didn't help him right at this moment. Then the Twi'lek rummaged around in his little stand next to the bed, eventually he managed to locate a single lighter. Rough iron cast, difficult to clasp open the lid, but eventually he managed it. With a flourish Xian offered it to the woman next to him.

"Can't use your magic powers to light it up with a flick of your fingers?" Xian teased as the tip started to burn, smoke pouring into the room. He didn't smoke often- but there were other reasons to have lighters by your hand, especially when you were operating an independent starship.

He lay down again, eyes closing and his arm shielding any insistent light-rays trying to push through anyway.

Usually it didn't happen like this. Sleeping next to someone he didn't really know? Strange concept - karking was one thing, but this was relinquishing control in a different manner. Not that there were really other options available to them. Small ship, single cabin for himself and she had turned out to be... interesting to say the least. Amusing, competent and above all strong to take freedom for herself without making any sort of compromise with the world.

Rare person that.

 

[Blackthorne]

The lighter wasn't for a smoke but she didn't comment as he lit up for himself. Blackthorne pushed herself up part way, leaning on her good elbow and closed her eyes.

"Don't be silly," said the woman a second time to the man that evening, her mind stretching out to the dagger sheathed in her boot back in the bridge. It had a bloodtrail on it - easy to find for her, less easy to manipulate while her mind urged her body to shut down and heal. Some distant clattering sounded beyond the hall of his cabin, Blackthorne raised her bad arm and held her palm open, facing towards the open door.

A swishing sound, a quick scrape of metal across durasteel floor, something came flying in through the doorway and sailed smack into her waiting hand.

"I can't make fire out of nothing."

She sat up fully and turned the dagger in her hand, flicking the lighter on and laying the flame under the blade's tip.

"The bite wound won't coagulate and heal on its own," thanks in large part to the properties of her saliva. She focused on the flame, brow furrowing as it rather suddenly grew larger, whiter. The polished metal began to heat up.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Xian would have pointed out that she had made a shield out of nothing and basically flew, so the rules of magic were less than obvious to him.

But in truth the Twi'lek didn't truly care.

He believed in what he could touch, feel, experience, taste. The magic-voodoo stuff some of these people were employing wasn't tangible for the most part. It wasn't like the feeling of a gun in your hand, the weight of a sword cutting through someone's shoulder, digging deep in their body and causing warm blood to cover you in reward.

Eyes closed Xian didn't see the knive, until the hissing started as it was treated. One eye was carefully opened and he studied the white-hot knife so nearby.

"Wasn't aware we were at the knife-play stage of the relationship." Xian mumbled, before raising himself lazily. Allowing her better access to the neck region with a tilt of his head.

 

[Blackthorne]

"Neither was I," she returned, brows raised. The lighter flame died in a slip of smoke, leaving behind the molten tip of the dagger. Lighter tossed, dexterous fingers coiled around the handle, Blackthorne leaned over him to assess the bite and apply the heat. The smell of singed flesh coiled beneath her as she drew the flat of the blade across the pierced skin. This wasn't just a hole to patch, she wasn't some damn vampire diary rip off. Each one of the woman's serrated teeth had sliced through, top and bottom. By the time she was done tending to him there was a sizable etching of blackened flesh following the outline left by her meal. A ritual done plenty of times before to be decidedly good at it by now.

He handled it as well as she expected him to. Barely a peep - respectable.

The cool spine of the dagger caught the tip of the man's chin, lifting it to bring his lips to her own. A forward but brief exchange as the woman pulled away and moved to slip from the bed.