Indigo Smoke - [Levantine Sanctum~Adventure Dominion of Sucellus]

[Seydon of Arda]

~The Tingle Arm~​

~The Paxe System~​

+Sucellus+​

Aja; City/Spaceport

"Mr. Qaeke, I understand how upsetting this is..." It was a banal reassurance of empathy. Dr. Frai, shaking a holo-style between his sucker-hands, looked up at Armand Qaeke. Mr. Qaeke was middle-aged, human, bald save for fuzzy hints of a prior recede along his hairline. He sat dressed in a mechanic's coverall greased at the knees and waist with dried smears of hydraulic fluid; prior appointments at Xerxes Memorial Clinic indicated issues of degredation in connective tissues between his ankles and sole. The rodian set the holo-style aside, and simply braced.

Mr. Qaeke had been bawling; on his lap sat three small mountains of soaked tissue. He sat forward, banging his palm across Dr. Frai's immaculate faux-wood desk. A slim gel pill like the colour of twilight dusk skittered about. "...Doctor Frai, d'you know what that is?"

Frai nodded, settling on his repulsor chair. "A combination hallucinogenic, psychostimulant, and neurotoxin. Umm... Police and... And officials in several school administrations are calling it, ahh..."

"Dasey told me they called it the 'Indigo Bridge'..." Qaeke interrupted. Agitated fingers wove to crack up against one another. "I... I took that off him, three weeks prior, when he was picked up for murdering a woman on Hail Concourse for sixteen cred-chits and the jewlery she wore. Doctor. He came home to me crying with blood on his hands. Do you know what he said?"

The doctor hesitatingly shook his spiny brow. "...No, sir, I haven't read his case-report as of yet."

"'Dad! I gotta get back! I gotta find the bridge! I gotta get to the other side! I gotta, I gotta!'" Qaeke was fairly shaking in his seat, lips pursed violently. "...Police came by not long after. He... He tried to fight his way free but they got him. Or... Caught him, I mean. After three weeks visiting him in holding, asking him to forgive me for not affording bail, Dasey looked like shid. ...Three days ago, I get a call by the precinct watch telling me Dasey went into a 'spasmodic attack'. He was dead when I got to the station, doctor. I saw him. His eyes had burst and he had blood coming out of... Out of... Everywhere!"

"I know, Mr. Qaeke..."

"No you don't!" Cried the man. "You don't because he wasn't your Dasey, Doc! He was mine! I was supposed to keep him safe, Gods be damned! I promised... I promised Caley I'd keep him safe! And now he's dead! He killed a girl to get money so he could have that! So he could... Could find the Indigo Bridge!"

"Mr. Qaeke."

"Do you know?" Qaeke looked up. Red eyes grew tight with rapidly welling tears. "I get calls from parents all the time, about his friends. There's another six dead, Frai, another six! I don't want to think about what the numbers really are. So for Dasey's sake, please... Tell me something..."

"Tell you what, Mr. Qaeke?"

"That there's a cure? That there's treatment? Something, Frai, everyone else says - "

Frai raised a sucker-hand and quieted Qaeke. He consulted a hololith pad, shifting forward in his seat, scrolling over the details with an unblinking compound stare. "Everyone else who matters for their opinion say the following: 'The drug dutahexarendol showcases an adept ability to draw immediate addiction after only two sessions. Afterward, an immediate chemical inbalance can be detected within both spinal fluid and neural tissue, leading to several outward symptoms. Changes in personality. Loss of sleep. Increased aggressive tendencies and violent paranoia. Episodes of delusion and hallucination. A raise in BPM, skyrocketing blood pressure. This leads some to onsets of heart-attack, others inexplicably suffer with pulmonary edemas. Autopsies show damages to neural tissue... Until a violent collapse. And death.'

"And it worses with repeated dosages of the Indigo Bridge," Frai set the pad aside. "Current treatment efforts are proving so far to be ineffective, Mr. Qaeke. I can't begin to tell you how long until pharmaceuticals manufacture a capable 'antidote'. ...Any more details, Mr. Qaeke, is just heartbreak."

"Frai... We are losing our children..."

"I know," Frai replied with more force then intended. "You think you're the first parent with a complaint coming to me!? You're the eighteenth, Mr. Qaeke, and just this week! I can tell you the stories of the other sixty four before that! I... I appreciate coming to me, Mr. Qaeke. ...But I'm just a physician. My hands are tied. All I can do is - Yes?"

Someone had appeared by the office door frame. It was an officer decked in faded navy and mahogany colours denoting his uniform; an Ajac City licensed forensic investigators, resplendent with badge, cap, and firearm nestled close in its thigh-holster. Behind him was a second shadow, tall and lankey with a face obscured by a drawn up cowl. Doctor Frai adjusted his composure, rapidly coming to his feet.

"Mr. Qaeke, I thank you for your time, for bringing your concerns to me. I have to unfortunately cut our appointment short; this is a meeting I've been anticipating. Again... Thank you..."

The mechanic stood and shuffled out of the office space, taking time to dispose of his used tissues. He didn't bother raising his eyes up at the official standing out of his way. They were another blank stare offering further bland promises, excuses, and requests for calm and understanding. Armand Qaeke didn't want to be calm, nor understanding. An itching plan in the more desperate echoes of his imagination called for commandeering a load-lifter, then tearing it through the heart of busy Falxion Avenue. The party going district. ...Until someone with answers came crawling out of the rubble.

In stepped the officer with his guest close at heel. Frai peered up under the cowl. There were hints of dark scruff and unshaven bristles dotting a hard jaw and fierce cheeks, from above which issued grey eyes that stared back thrice as curiously. Frai ducked back, taking up his seat, while the officer spoke.

"Doctor. Red Constable Hajers sends his regards, along with sympathies from the Diet Senate. We understand this is burgeoning into something out of our control."

"That's... understatement," Frai murmured. "...Is this the one they said is... 'visiting'?"

"Aye. He and some others appeared in-system some weeks prior, and began preliminary communications with... Well... With authorities far over my own head," The Officer shrugged sympathetically. "They've offered some aid in a few issues that are coming a little too close to maybe burying the lot of us. ...The Diet Senate has proclaimed that we are not in a position to deny ourselves outside aid. So if I can, Doctor Frai, allow me to introduce Mister Ur-Rahn, ranger and hunter from..." He briefly consulted a plast-sheet. "...Somewhere's nearby called 'Free Space.' They call themselves Levantines. Since these neighborhoods here about are the hardest hit, the Constable thought..."

"I see," Frai murmured.

"Doctor," Seroth nodded lightly.

"Mister Ur-Rahn, what is it you do again, exactly...?" The doctor questioned, somewhat put off by his armed appearance. The hunter stood with his shoulders straight, a long vibrosword held in a recharge sheathe, with an axe and sheathe-knife hanging off waist-line harness belts.

"I kill monsters. I try to help people."

"...And you think you can help me stem a flow of narcotics that are killing folks left and right?"

Grey eyes flashed and Seroth nodded again. "Yes," Gloved fingers touched at the smokey pill idling on the desk counter. Behind, the officer took his leave, letting the auto-door close down. "Tell me every detail you can about this, what it does... And preferably where you think it's coming from."

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Aja Central Bank
Sucellus

"A-are you sure about this, Bren? Robbing a bank isn't like another protest, y'know", the meek Caibel said in a hushed tone to Bren and the others. The gruff and obvious leader Bren shrugged to the question posed as a wicked smile appeared on his lips. "You a coward, Caibel? Is that it? We've planned this for months, and all of us are in dire need of cash! We will have to get it from somewhere. Do you know of a better way of making fast credits, Cai? 'Cause I'd love to hear it!" The others in the group cheered their leader on as his words turned more and more into a speech one would bring to a political debate the longer he spoke.

"I know, Bren! It's me your talking to! But what we're about to do is a crime! There's no going back from this--" A loud thud was heard as Cai's stomach was met with Bren's heavy fist, leaving him gasping for air on the ground in the alleyway the group of students had made their starting point. "Anyone else wanna walk away from this? 'Cause my fists are aching for some more meat to dive into!" The others shook their heads vigorously out of fear for the retaliation that would've followed had they not. "Good. Then stop acting like y'all done wet yourselves and let's do this", his cocksure voice demanded as he pulled down his mask over his face and put the hood over his head, with the others following his lead by doing the same.

There were ten of them; all students from various schools and educational facilities from across the city. Most of them had known eachother since early childhood, and had this planet not become such a crippled hunk of rock and steel, plagued with governmental issues long before this new drug took over a large portion of its population. These young adolescents had gotten themselves into debt with dealers from around the city, and if they did not leave here today with more credits than they could fit into their pockets, they would not likely live to finish school, anyway. Pacing through the transparisteel doors of the bank, Bren was the first to brandish his blaster and fire a couple rounds into the ceiling, mostly to instill fear into the ones inside, but also to flaunt his superiority in terms of weaponry. His father wasn't the Chief of Police for nothing, and thus they had no shortage of guns lying around at home.

Bren and the group of students were all surprised to learn that there were no security guards at the scene, and instead of having to shoot their way through a host of officers, they found themselves able to reach the vault without anyone resisting at all. "Get down on the ground, I said! Do you want me to blow your brains all over the floor?!" one in the group screamed at the top of his lungs, obviously borrowing from clichéd holovids dispaying fictional robberies. While five of them secured the main floor as well as its staff and customers alike, Bren and the other four made their way to the main vault, where they figured the main portion of the credits would be held. "Teevo, get that door open", he barked at a skinny teenager who was their designated expert on locking mechanisms and how to open them. He was a prodigy at school, with the highest grades possible in physics and mathematics.

Little did the group attempting to breach the vault door know the others had already been incapacitated and apprehended soon after they split their forces. One of the civilians inside had not been as compliant to bend knee to these wannabe-gangsters and had effectively overpowered their few numbers. "Yes! We're in!" Teevo proudly proclaimed just as the vault door swung open, only to reveal there were no credits stored inside at all. They had, in fact, been moved just a couple of minutes ago by the urging of one Thurion Heavenshield, who was also responsible for the apprehension of their buddies out on the main floor. "What the kark?!" Bren said, outraged and furious at this turn of events. Behind the five stepped a tall man, blonde of hair and wrapped in dark brown robes. Hidden beneath the fabrics was his combat attire, along with a lightsaber hilt attached to his belt, ready for use.

"You boys should not be using that kind of language", a calm voice spoke as they all turned towards the loner. Immidiately some of them began to quiver in their boots at the mere hint of getting caught. Sapphire eyes pierced their stares, and chills ran down their spines as the voice spoke further. "Lay down your weapons. Now."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

City of Selvans , Wood Products Facility & Surrounding Forests , Sucellus


Cargo ships slung low through the atmosphere, cutting through the morning mists that had descended on the planet. Selvans was a smaller city than the capital, mostly home to those who worked in the thriving wood product business on Sucellus. Due to its remote location, many looking to live a simpler life in the forests were attracted to the region. Namely, the lizard-like Felucians, who had left their original planet long ago due to strife. Many were farmers, working in tandem with the forests to produce a variety of fresh produce and meats for Sucellus and the surrounding planets.

Yet it was their farming that got in the way of more corporate overtones. With much of the planet rural forests beyond the cities dotted on the planet, the timber industry ruled the land, so to speak.

"We're looking at an entire stand of trees on this south quadrant." Holoprojector flipped from a aerial view of the land in question, back to projections of monetary value and the various types of lumber contained within. "Exotic wood, old growth. It would fetch a high price on the galactic market. There are rich people crawling over Coruscant, willing to plunk down thousands of credits for something made of real wood. One of a kind."

"Our only problem? A tribe of natives have set up camp in half of the stand. We're in a difficult situation. The question is, how do we get them out without it leading back to this company?"

-------------

Meanwhile, Judah was touring the forests as a potential investor into the program. He had environmental concerns, naturally, and wanted to see everything with his own eyes. The best way to do it was to put his boots on the ground, walking through the areas about to harvested or in the process of about to be harvested. It was noisy and a little dangerous, but Judah did his best to steer clear of the falling trees.

"Its an interesting process Mr. Hobe. Very efficient. What are your plans for the future?"

"Our plans are to expand into this south quadrant. There are some unexpected pitfalls, but I can show you the area."

"Great. I'd like to see whats on the horizon."

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

~Saleucami Fuelling Station~​

~The Mara Corridor~​

~Aboard the Femme Fatal~​

​

The blue tinted image of the Rodian flickered before her. Hako was nervous, he wrung his hands together and seemed to be trying to look everywhere but at Anaya. She said nothing to ease his nerves, she merely stared at his holographic image, eyes boring into his soul even from this distance. She crossed her legs and let out an impatient sigh. The chair was Alastair's but she would move him from it from time to time when she wanted to be on the bridge and in control of things. "...Indigo Bridge is doing well, my lady. You were wise to invest in it, our customer numbers are rising rapidly, they are desperate for the next hit..." he trailed off. Anaya's eyes narrowed.

"Out with it Hako." she snapped.

"There is a problem." he glanced over his shoulder. "It is to be expected with such a new drug, one can't always anticipate the side effects of extended use..."

"Hako." she said, this time more softly, though there was a deadly edge to her voice.

"People are dying. For every new customer we get another one dies. The authorities have begun to notice, to protect you, I have stopped selling but these kids...they're doing whatever they can to get their hands on it. A woman was murdered this week by a teenager trying to get money for it because I told him I had none. As if more money would materialise more!" he was getting bolder with his outburst "I did not sign up for this Lady Apoleia, if I am caught I will be jailed for li--"

Anaya had gotten to her feet, and his courage failed him. "You will not be caught, to be caught terminates our contract and you die, Hako. If the product is fault we will discontinue it and I will take it back to our suppliers. You are my most trusted dealer, which is why I gave the task of testing this new drug to you. You have dealt in tougher places than Succellus, what has changed?"

For a moment the Rodian said nothing, he was looking at the floor. People died from drugs all the time, it never bothered him. He'd been threatened with every weapon imaginable and still he had persevered, surviving and remaining free. Pay checks always helped with this, and Anaya made a point of protecting those she paid from everyone but herself. "There are...people, outsiders poking there nose into the planets business. My lady...I am certain come of the group are force sensitive...rogues. I recognised one from the holovids. Ur-something or other. Please my lady... my family... I am begging you I do not want--" Anaya held up a hand.

"Enough, Hako. We are on our way. Keep your head down and get off the grid now. I will contact you when we arrive." The rodian bowed and the holo image flickered and died. Anaya began to pace up and down the bridge, lines furrowing her brow. Ur-something...a rogue jedi? Who was it? "Captain," she said sharply stopping in her prowl of the bridge and looking towards [member="Alastair Crowely"]. "What names can you recall of those that left the Order recently?" She did not need to tell him to set a course, he would know by now that this was urgent.

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] [member="Judah Dashiell"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Ilias Nytrau"]

Saleucami Fuelling Station~
~The Mara Corridor~
~Aboard the Femme Fatal~​

The course was set and ready to engage before she finished speaking. His light blue eyes regarded her drinking in her form. Her red skin a dear and sensual gaze tgings that haunted his dreams. He woukd do anything she asked. He always had. Everysince they were thrown together in the empire. He maintained his imperial professionalism but on the inside he loved he completely.

"Information on the area puts sightings on a man name Ur-Rahn in the area. Also, persons like a Jedi Heavenshield, Jedi Master Gan and E'ron as well as several others." He said as he handed her the data pad containing the report he had compiled, "Gan and E'ron however have not been reported in the area but an Ilias Nytrau has been and is possibly a Jedi but we haven't confirmed. Also, Mistress, if I may? I would offer to have Hako removed before he can be linked to you."

He guided "the Femme" from the co-pilot's seat with pleasure as he engaged the hyperdrive and was secure with the knowledge he was doing as she wish. Someday perhaps she would reward him with her affections and they could carry on not as Master and servant but as partners and lovers.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

~Saleucami Fuelling Station~
~The Mara Corridor~
~Aboard the Femme Fatal~

Anaya waved her hand dismissively. "No, Hako is too useful. If it comes to that I will deal with him personally." She folded her arms and stared out of the viewport chewing the inside of her cheek in thought. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, it was so hard to find smart dealers these days who didn't try to make extra funds at her expense. Still the name Ur-Rahn rang alarm bells in her mind. "Ashin had a ship named after Ur-Rahn. The seroth-class, if my memory serves me correctly." There was a spike of jealousy, and she clucked her tongue irritably. "Anyone who gets such devotion from that woman needs to be handled carefully. All of this needs to be handled carefully."

She turned to face him. "You can put a hit out on our suppliers though. That would please me, the messier the deaths the better. How soon before we reach Succellus?"

[member="Alastair Crowely"]

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Anaya Fen"]
Saleucami Fuelling Station~
~The Mara Corridor~
~Aboard the Femme Fatal~

"A day and a half Mistress." Crowley said as he made efforts not to stare at her openly, "but only to avoid an asteroid field that has moved across the spacelane."

He sat back straight maintaining his militaary bearing. And began typing a message on the comm system and setting it to transmit as soon as a holonet relay was in range.

"I am messaging a local mercenary group now to make sure the supplier and their facilities have unforseen accident M'lady. Shall I have their families targeted as well?"

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Aja Central Bank
Sucellus

Without another word the misguided teenagers turned their full attention to the individual who had until now grinded their plans to a halt. He had to be eliminated before they could continue, obviously. "Everyone, shoot him! Now!" came the order from the leader, Bren. Everyone seemingly hesitant to follow his command, Bren was the first to open fire. Easily avoidable by merely stepping to the side, Thurion began by reaching out towards the adolescent and with the Force crushing what must've been his father's most expensive blaster into scrap metal. "Dammit! What are you looking at, you feth-heads?! Shoot him!" he barked as he tossed the broken blaster to the floor in sheer frustration.

More blaster-fire was imminent, but while their leader was stood barking orders at his minions, Thurion had already allowed his robes to fall to the floor around him to expose his combat armour while he drew his lightsaber. An instant blue shine lit up the room, which was now darkened as one of the shots fired bounced off Thurion's blade and into the only source of light in the area just outside the vault. A few more shots were fired, all parried by the Master who made sure they would not hit the youngsters opposing him. He'd never killed a single sentient being yet, and curse him for all eternity should his first kill be a teenage boy lost in his ways. When it became apparent the man they faced would not be hindered by petty blasters, they got the insanely brilliant idea to charge at him using their fists as well as crude instuments such as wooden bats and iron bars. With a simple wave of his hand one of them were thrown into the wall, resulting in him remaining incapacitated throughout the rest of the fight.

As the other hoodlums closed in, a simple swipe of his lightsaber made short work of their bats and crowbars, cutting them in half like they were made of butter. At this point they were all pretty much ready to give up. No amount of money was worth this. But their leader was far from done with the upstart who dared to intervene with their plans. Rather than fall to his knees begging for forgiveness like the rest, he instead grabbed the drilling apparatus the one called Teevo had utilised to break through the thick vault door prior to the fight. "Let's see you try to block this!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he lunged forward with the drill firmly in hand. Admittedly it caught Thurion somewhat off-guard, seeing a huge machine such as this coming at him so suddenly. Through a swift move backwards, however, there was enough room between the two for him to trip the leader by throwing out his leg to his side. Bren fell over like a sack of potatoes and bumped his head in the hard floor, leaving him without means to put up further struggle.

The threat to the bank had thus been dealt with, and with no casualties whatsoever. There were some minor destruction of property brought on by the kids, but now they were all apprehended and put on the stairway outside the front door, their hands tied behind their back and awaiting local authorities to take them into custody. But not until Thurion had managed to find out more about this thing called "Indigo Bridge". He had come to Sucellus along with his comrades from the Levantine Sanctum to put a stop to this underground drug once and for all, hopefully. Gaining the attention of all ten of the teenage would-be robbers, he made a subtle bow towards them all. "Everyone - my name is Thurion. As you might have noticed, you are all under arrest for attempted robbery, among other things. I would ask all of you to hear the words I am about to say; it might just save you time in jail if you do." Wrapping his robes around his person once more, Thurion began to pace slowly back and forth in front of the lined-up thugs as he resumed speaking.

"I've already alerted the authorities, and they will take you all into custody momentarily. What I want from you is to let me know where you go to get this substance known as 'Indigo Bridge'. Anything you have to say would be greatly appreciated, and I'd even be so kinds as to put in a good word with the boys in blue for those that indulge my request." He spoke in a soft and gentle yet commanding tone as he often times would. There was no reason for him to instill fear into these youngsters; they were probably already too scared to move an inch from where they were seated, anyway. Kneeling down before all of them, he looked them all in the eyes, through which he commanded their presence. "Now, please - tell me where you go to get this stuff."

 

[Seydon of Arda]

~Aja City~​

~Xerxes Memorial Clinic~​

​

They laid in single file, a long row of columned figures kept dressed with anti-bacterial gowns and white sheets atop stainless durasteel gurneys, tended before a tall wall of mag-locked hydro-dry mortuary cells. Dr. Frai personally escorted his guest down from the upper consultation offices, past several floors down into the cool basements. The Officer had departed back to his work: another set of violent domestic disturbances warranted police investigation. Beside him stood Seroth, still quiet, looking about with restless eyes.

Frai kept up his lead when the turbolift sighed to a halt and discharged them onto the floor. He shuddered, Rodian physiology reacting unkindly to the chill. The pair wafted down a long hallway before coming to the first of a dozen similar annexes. Seroth paused, drawing up to the forlorn scene. Frai waved him closer, snatching a datapad up off a nearby trolley, scrowling through several holo-fields worth of personal information detailed by the coroner. The hunter leaned to draw back one sheet, wrinkling his brow. It was a woman, and she showcased a heavily sewn up surgery scar running from sternum to naval, alongside cranial stitching.

"These are the latest cases to arrive," Frai said.

"When?"

He recalled the datapad. "As of yesterday."

Seroth abruptly stepped away, taking a second eye to survey the nine cadavers. "Yesterday...?"

Frai nodded, strolling along, relieving the dead one at a time of their shielding blankets. "The coroner only had the evening to look over the initial patient before the others arrived. She's scheduled to try and conduct further autopsies tonight, but there's no promises we'll see full reports until the end of the week. ...By then, we could have a dozen more."

Seroth busied in his own examinations. Gloves deftly lifted eyelids open to survey collapsed ocular cavities, scalloped clean of gore-matter and severed nerve attachments. He surveyed gums, poked, prodded at odd bruisings across the ribs and stomachs, caught up in his own concentration. Of especial interest were the hands, their feet, alongside contusions and any obvious wounds.

"What are you looking for?" Frai leaned in.

Seroth turned to him. "Have investigators come by for consultation?"

"No, sadly. They're the ones who bring them."

"From where?"

The rodian again consulted his datapad before simply sighing and handing it over. "Usually from their points of residence? Suburban hab-blocks, open-air neighborhoods, wherever individuals going mad flee to find help. ...What - What are you doing now?"

The hunter was bent over one man, an elder subject with liver-spotted skin wrapped around a skull almost too big. He'd taken a handful of hair and dragged it over his nostrils, breathing in deeply, eyes glassing over. Frai's extended snout of a mouth puckered in distastefuly. Seroth looked up. "Traces of several alcoholic vapours... And smoke-ash, from maybe a dozen different brands. There's something else I can't quite pick up... Like sweat and musk washed together. Probably some sort of pheramonal discharge in contact with someone of the opposite or same sex. Do you have any of their personal effects?"

"Yes, but - " The doctor hustled over to several clear plastic bins set atop a singular work station. There was a brief cross-referencing with bin-numbers and patient names. "What are you looking for?"

Seroth snapped off the container lid as Frai lifted the bin up into his hands, scrounging through, clothing flopping past his elbows. "Just obvious answers. ...Ahhh."

Frai lifted up his palm, watched a careful thumb and forefinger deposit a lone, smokey-coloured gell-cap. "Our culprit. He must not have ingested it before his seizures began..." The doctor murmured a second comment beneath his breath before reaching up, tugging on Seroth's shoulder. "May I show you something?"

The hunter had just fished a small, filmy card out from a green-back wallet. He paused, nodding. "What is it?"

He was directed back to the work station. The coroner had set up a small, glass tray with two gel-packs carefully taped with clear gauze to the reflective pane. Frai fished a laser wand from a coat pocket, highlighting each pill in turn. "Do you see a difference?"

"Yes. There's a difference in coloration, just slight."

"Indeed!" The doctor chirped. "Which indicates one obvious fact, if I may? The pill on your left is a sample of the original 'Bridge', discovered in the initial... corpse-run... of victims. The pill to your right is a more recent find, and it's troubling. Damned troubling."

Grey eyes narrowed. "...Some shift in production?"

"Yes. ...And I think it's local, see - " Frai began pointing back and forth. "Before two months ago, I had never encountered a narcotic anywhere close to the addictive lethality of the 'Bridge'. Suddenly, it comes and distributes amongst youths and begins making its way through addict circles, killing in its wake. Then, there's a slight judder in the amount of cases... And then we get this."

"A second trial batch?"

"But it's virtually identical. The only way to determine difference is a visual, infrared, and chemical analysis. The chemical signatures are not exactly the same."

Seroth rubbed at his chin. "...A foreign product is introduced, but pulled when it can't lure repeat customers. An obvious technical fault..."

The doctor tapped, pleased, upon the man's shoulder. "There's a dip in supply as the original sellers begin recalling the product... Because the bodies will lead to them, eventually. Yet it hasn't stopped certain enterprising individuals from our own spheres from taking advantage and trying to take over production. This second 'Bridge' is a local creation."

"And the distribution vector is fairly clear," Seroth leaned over to hold up the film-card before the Doctor. Frai hesitatingly pulled the advert into his suction-fingers and looked to the various indented scripts.

"'The Tight Lane, Dance & Bar'. Charming," He looked over to the hunter hunched over the initial gurney. Some stormy element had settled around him and he thought, listening close, that there was a hum of murmured chant. "...Prayer for the dead?"

"Ardans believe that if the dead are not given a goodbye, the Witch at the Sea's Bottom will reach up and take their souls prisoner," He said. "...I'll tell you what I think happened. The Indigo Bridge was marketed, at first, as something trendy. You know, a new recreation drug, something to take to enhance a party-going experience. The effects are noticeable... Intense. It's a hit. People can't get enough. The 'Bridge' is spread across several night time dens; places where the majority of student youth go to unwind. ...Then people began to die, but the addiction couldn't be halted. Now they have a monster on their hands."

Frai blinked. "...And you say you kill monsters?"

Those grey eyes flashed back across the morgue at the doctor. "I do. I'll be seeing you, Doctor Frai," He turned, and began departing for the turbolift.

 

[The Hound]

Forest

High above in the trees Turin watched. His cold, blue eyes watching the natives as they worked. When the Sanctum declared it would help the people of Sucellus, he jumped at the chance to explore. When he arrived however, his heart was tugged and he couldn't ignore the plea of the natives. So he had stayed, promised to help in any way he could. At first he had been mistaken as one of the pro-native college students from the nearby university, but that idea was quickly renounced as his competence in the way of primitive constructino and farming proved him not to be one of the many students attempting to make a difference but actually making things more difficult for the natives.

Now he stood watch. He was told by one of the other students that the corporation often came through attempting to make deals and that these negotiations had recently become more...Violent. Turin found his job as the bulldog, watching and waiting for any such "negotiation" to go down.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

~The Mara Corridor~
~Aboard the Femme Fatal~​

There were often times, when Anaya forgot that Alastair was just another man in her service. He was so sith like in his actions, his devotion to her knew no boundaries and he would do anything to make her happy. She smirked. "Not today, Alastair." she purred at him. The family would probably take over the production and supply, let the current holders deaths serve as reminder of what happens when you cross the Lady Apoleia. She moved towards Alastair, placing her hands on the arms of his chair she leant in close, lips brushing his cheek.

"I want to be there in a day, Captain." she hissed at him before rising again and leaving him alone on the bridge. She had information to dig up.

*~*~*~*~*​

​

~The Tingle Arm~
~The Paxe System~
~Sucellus~

Hako remained, eyes fixed on the spot where she had been, his heart racing rapidly. The lady Apoleia was impossible to read and even more impossible to predict, she made a dangerous enemy, but as an employer? He shuddered and tried not to think about friends he had lost to her. She paid him well, better than anyone else, she ensured his family stayed out of the loop and remained protected. So long as she got her money and her name wasn't slandered she was content to let him run things his way. All bonuses that outweighed the danger of her temper. He was merely a middle man in this, she provided him the drugs in bulk and he distributed them in smaller amounts to street dealers, they were never with him for longer than twenty four hours.

He was careful too, none of the street dealers knew his name of face, the drop off's were faceless. A package left here and another collected from there. Theoretically untraceable, but he's seen the Lady Apoleia follow such a trail right to its heart to eliminate competition. Force users had access to gifts that were beyond him, so that why he had called her. Now though? Now he wished he had kept his mouth shut. he didn't want to see her, she got under your skin saw right through your soul and shredded it to pieces without really trying.

"So, what she say?" Hako jumped and whirled round. Parla stood leaning against the door frame, her yellow tattoos marking her as kiffar. She, like the force users, possessed abilities beyond Hako's comprehension. She was his delivery girl, silent on her feet, capable of disappearing in the blink of an eye. He'd wager a bet that she'd slit a few peoples throats too, but he never asked her too. People who prevented a problem tended to wind up dead. He never asked her how, he just assumed she'd dealt with it and increased her pay packet.

"You're not supposed to know who she is, she'd kill you...and me for that matter." Parla shrugged, a small smile on her face, though she kept her mouth shut and waited for the nervous reptilian to answer her question. "We're to keep our heads down. Get off the grid. She's coming to deal with the matter personally, which makes me think that this little group of...what did you say they called themselves?"

"Levantines."

"Yes, that was it. Whoever and whatever they are, they have her attention and that can only end badly for us." He started to pace.

"We still have two kilos to shift."

"No, we can't move it. Another burst in deaths will only draw more attention. We need to hide it and ourselves."

Parla sighed and rolled her eyes. Hako was good at what he did, but when things got difficult he became a paranoid mess. Obsessive with every little detail, ensuring that nothing could possibly lead to him. Of course, she had proven his obsession for details useless when she'd used psychometry to find him, but he still did not relent. "Hako, will you please relax, she can't be all that bad can she?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Oh you have no idea just how bad this is. How dangerous she is. I've seen men with better killing skills than you crumble beneath her stare. I've seen men who want to live take their own gun to their heads. I've seen--"

"Alright, alright!" Parla raised her hands to calm him, moving from the door frame to lay them on his shoulders. "I get it."

"No, Parla. Child, you do not." There was sorrow and fear in his eyes, he reached up and touched her face gently. "Find a place to hide it, let me know where and then disappear. I'll contact you when its safe." He moved away from her then, collecting his things and leaving her alone in the old office. She could here his boots echoing off the walls of the warehouse she had called her home for so long. She would do as he'd asked, then she would start her own digging and approach the Levantines herself.

[member="Turin Val Kur"] [member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] [member="Alastair Crowely"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Aja - City Centre

"Please calm down." The constable spoke firmly at the teenage girl who was frantically trying to escape his grasp and the cuffs that bound her as he tried to wrestle her into the car. The blue lights flashed ominously against the walls of the precinct. A crowd was gathering to observe the scene as yet another child had succumbed to the need for this new drug.

"No!" she shouted "No you don't understand, I need...I need to get back to it. I need it! Let me GO!" the last word uttered as a scream as she threw her head back, catching the officer square on the nose. Momentarily stunned, he released her and she bolted towards the crowd. A hooded figure moved with speed to intercept her, catching her round the waist before she could reach another victim of her desperation. The girl screamed, her struggling tugging the figues hood free, revealing golden locks and soft brown eyes that bore no anger, only pity.

"Let me go! I need to get back to the bridge!"

"You need to sleep." With a mind as fragile as this the suggestion was easy to implant. She went limp in Rosa's arms as the constable caught up to them.

"I...Thanks." he said uncertainly. Rosa offered him a reassuring smile and handed her the girl who he scooped up and carried back to the speeder, Rosa followed. "Where was the attack reported?" she asked. He almost rebuffed her and told her to mind her own business, but he knew he was in no position to do so, so he settled with giving her a scowl. "Three blocks down, she tried to rob the jewellers. Owners banged up pretty bad but he'll live." Rosa nodded, understanding his reluctance to give her anything. She was a stranger and strangers were popping up everywhere to try and fix their problems. Most were happy for the help, but there were always a few people who took offence to those who tried to poke their noses in where they didn't really belong.

She left him with her thanks, tugging the hood up once more she let her footsteps carry her to the jewellers. The owner was sat on the back on an ambulance, protesting loudly at the people fussing over him. "Will you stop already! I'm fine! I need to know if anything is missing!"

"Mr. Olhado please," the paramedic said exasperatedly "Sit still so I can dress this wound."

Rosa turned her eyes to the scene. Someone had attempted to smash the front display screen, serving only to blow the glass. Rosa ducked underneath the tape cordoning the area off and approached. "Hey!" someone shouted "you can't- oh. Its you."

"Officer Wiggin." she said softly in greeting, reaching up to pull her hood down. "May I?"

"You're going to anyway whether I say yes or no." he grumbled then gestured towards the entrance following cloase behind her. "Olhado says that the girl hit the front window and as he went to chase her off someone hit him in the back of the head. He didn't see who." shattered glass crunched underfoot. "The girl came in the front and attacked him with a vibroknife, folks walking by saw it happen, but noe one has seen the other culprit. Might be he got out the back door, if you look here- how are you supposed to see anything with your eyes closed?!"

Rosa brought a finger to her lips and Wiggin spluttered before falling silent, watching the woman stand there quietly as if she was listening for the answer. In a way she was, she was listening to the force, letting it tug her along through the rooms history. Flow walking took time and concentration, she would be here for a while.

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] [member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] [member="Turin Val Kur"] [member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Judah Dashiell"]

He watched her closely. The movements of her eyes, the tension around her mouth, even the movements of her Lekku. He had been with her through so much. Her smirk at his question made his heart leap. The only outward reaction was the dilation of his pupils and a slight rise at the corner of the left side of his mouth. She stood then her movements all with the grace and beauty of a dancer. As she approached he could feel his pulse race and as she leaned forward bushed his cheek his blood boiled. For the breifest of moments he basked in her touch the softness of her lips on his skin. Then her words poured forth and he was all to happy to prove himself yet again to her.

"Of course, Anaya." He said as she left the cockpit.

He turned in his seat and began pouring over astrogation charts. Perhaps, maybe if he took a chance, yes, yes he could make it in a day. He had to. There was nothing he wanted more, as long as it pleased her. He began plotting a new course and waited for a good time to exit hyper space early. Then as soon as they left they were gone again. He would see them there in 22 hours and 37 minutes and not a second more.

 

[Seydon of Arda]

~Aja City~​

~Falxion Avenue - Entertainment District~​

Seroth took coin to slay monsters, abiding to his own observances of an ingrained, personal code, but he stood still under a long, ember awning keeping several cafe goers shaded. He looked north then down south along a heavy barreled extent of sidewalk and air-traffic. Falxion Avenue; Aja City's busiest portion in the sixteen block 'Entertainment District' looped together by various establishments aiming to cater for distracting activities. Long avenues baked under neon-holo boardwalks advertising to the particular palette. Restaurant dens for the choosing gourmets, bars ranging from novel dives to sound-studios up to the elite selected clientele clubs that only served on invite. Seroth watched the foot-traffic; there was always eager crowds with swelling eyes romanticizing notions of urban poetry and love under holo-globe dance floors. Nearby, a kiffar sucked on his iho stick, then vented thin clouds of sooty discharge. It blew up into his nostrils, stinging and warping other drifting smells. The hunter pushed from the brick-clay wall and began walking.

It was mid-day bu seemingly every establishment was readied to pick up noon and evening crowds before their avenues altered for the night scene. Sunlight turned the neon-holo visual cues of colour-on-shadow into mundane ferrocrete architecture. Tourists from Rhea passed him, chattering, eager, hoping they'd make the evening show of an entertainer the lad didn't recognize. The methodology of hunting hadn't changed; just the environ. Devil's kept their lair in the details. Bustling crowds wove up and down sidewalk space with currents all their own, Seroth just managing to pause in and eddying pool of unoccupied room.

Despite assurances to both municipal authorities and himself, rooting out and breaking the 'Bridge' was not going to be exactingly clear cut. Law enforcement kept busy preventing destabilizing addicts from committing massacre. Physical man power was stretched looking after the guilty and their dead, investigators hounding for connections, fighting the clock as detained suspects rapidly lost their minds. It was an attempt to understand, and quantify, the nature of the monster. All municipal powers required were just a few more sets of extra, helping hands. The Levantines were those added appendages picking up the faults of slack and lending their individual fields of professional expertise. Thurion, Rosa, Turin, Judah. Himself. Aja City was Sucellus' ground zero for the manufacturing and distribution of the Indigo Bridge. If the city could set the lead for how to respond to the inflicted epidemic, surrounding population centers would have a model point to reference.

Deaths could be stemmed. That was the monster slayer's ethos: keep the jaws of the beast off the throats of lambs and shepherds. Yet the Indigo Bridge was an invisible wyrm haunting the back quarters of festive night-joints and dance scenes. It left evidence behind of its passing in broken corpses, brains churned to gory butter, but was elusive otherwise. The Bridge operated in symbiosis; tandem threesomes between itself, the drug, the supplier, and the victim. By its lonesome, the Bridge was only collections of roiling chemicals waiting for activation in stomach acid and lining. Akin to a dagger lying abandoned in back alley drudgery. Someone was handing the dagger over for folks to voluntarily disembowel themselves. The Supplier. Their middlemen. That was the someone.

Seroth adjusted his coat against a breeze and reached into a harness pocket. One victim in repose at the Xerxes Clinic yielded up a clue. He likened it to a sliver of skin, scale, tuft of fur caught on a blade or nearby tree-burr: evidence of the monster's passing. It was an advertisement card for the Tight Lane; reputable hive for fans of exotic dancing, exotic drinks, and exotic interactions. The hunter looked up at a smaller theater built down into ferrocrete. Gay, heavy lettering barred the outside arcades, ludicrously bright even despite the day-lit hour. Patrons were stealing into a slanted stairwell, trying to not look more furtive than they were. The hunter walked out from the sidewalk eddy and began crossing the road.

The Tight Lane employed three watchers at their gates. Seroth ventured across the roadway, clambered over barred railing, to try and make his way into the establishment. A man in his late forties, balding with liver spots, had come to the Lane. Someone inside spotted him as a potential mark, making a deal that passed credits in exchange for a walk across the Bridge. The bouncers were picky: a Geelan, his friend a Ranth, and a third, a thickset Morling.

"Hey, hey, whoa-whoa, can we help you, buddy?" The Ranth stopped him. "You thinking about heading in? I get it, girls are pretty nice, dance even better."

"But you're sort of... armed?" The Geelan chuckled.

Seroth stood with his longsword kept in a recharge sheathe fitted across the right shoulder. The Diet Senate gave him writ of leave to conduct himself with weaponry so long as he understood several required stipulations. However, private establishments seemed comfortable over-ridding lone rangers that didn't look to play ball. The Morling finished his smoke, grinding it under toe, adjust a long studded belt fitted with a stun-rod over the thigh. "You got licenses for those?"

He produced the official Diet Writ and handed it to the Ranth. The bouncer made idle talk whilst perusing the written details. "So you're a government agent? Something along those lines?"

"No," Seroth said. "That just says I can keep my sword, my knife, and axe, in case officers think I'm patrolling for trouble."

"So then why did they give you it, if you're not a man for the Diet, 'explicitly'?" The Morling accented his clawed hands in sarcasm. "Off duty hitman, is that it? ...You're awfully brazen about it."

"Not that either."

"Then what - Excuse you - Then what, exactly," The Geelan ushered Seroth aside as more recognized frequenters bustled by and through the darkened, durasteel entrance portcullis. "Why the 'edges'?"

"Ordinarily, I don't come to places like Sucellus. It's civilized, untouched, beasts and animals occur in natural strength. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing you'd need to call an outsider to see to. I look after problems involving creatures that aren't ordinary; things you'd think only exist in nursery rhyme or some outdated myth. I'm a monster slayer. And I'm looking - " Seroth held up a single, smokey pill less than the size of his thumbnail. "For this creature."

The trio looked about to one another. "We don't know anything about that..."

Seroth smiled. It wasn't pretty. "I'm sure you don't."

"What makes you think we got anything to do with that... That kind of evil?" The Ranthe nodded to the gel-cap, handing back Seroth his Diet Writ. In turn, the man slid the establishment card into his over-wrought, furry palm.

"Because the man who died with that pill in his possession also was sporting your advertisement. Officially? I'm a stranger in a strange land, looking to just explore around. Unofficially? The Senate Diet is terrified that people are dying in droves by the dozen. They're scared of something that seemingly kills indiscriminately and leaves nothing for treatment, or detox," Seroth said. "I can share that terror. I don't like seeing people die either. So I'm the slayer they hired to find a creature that's foiling them."

"Uhhhh - " The Geelan sighed, unnerved.

"If I'm lucky, there's someone amongst the patrons who can answer my questions about people dying on their trips over the 'Bridge'," Seroth stepped a little closer. "If I'm lucky. I need to get in. If you three are still looking to stop me, I'm assuming you're in on this killing scam and I'll leave you for police pick up when I'm done. I don't have time for idiots covering to save face."

The Ranthe coughed and nudged the Geelan against the Morling, stepping out smoothly, opening the portcullis. "Enjoy your visit, sir."

Seroth's hand blurred. Suddenly, the Ranthe was holding onto a credit voucher that hadn't been in his possession a quarter of a second ago. The Morling just blinked. "...And he tipped. Holy shid."

"Foreigners, I tell ya..."

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Selvans - Forest, Unknown Coordinates

Transport glided through the trees as Judah sat and only half-listened to the sales pitch given to him by the corporate executive. So far, he wasn't buying it. Judah had yet to see anything spectacular about the operation. Personally, if it was up to him the operation would do more dead tree harvesting and be a little more responsible about cutting paths through the thick forests on the planet. Just because the planet had a majority of forests didn't mean one had to see how fast they could rip them from the ground.

"....We're now entering our south quadrant...As you can see it gets much denser at parts. We estimate that this portion hasn't been touched in over two hundred years. No records to indicate...."

Judah let the woman drown out again as he focused on something odd. While there were some dense parts, he clearly saw primitive dirt roads leading through the forest looked freshly tracked through by some type of vehicle.

"Would you mind stopping the transport?"

The corporate executive looked at him strangely but stopped the vehicle. Judah immediately hopped over the side, grabbing the pack he had with him and throwing it on his back. Immediately he was setting out to find out what was down the trail. It was too fresh, too well worn to not be anything. The executive said no one had been this way in hundreds of years. She was apparently wrong.

"Mr. Dashiell, you can't go that way. Its not safe. I suggest you get back into the transport at once and continue the tour."

Pleas fell on deaf ears. "I'll be fine" was all be bothered to reply with. Walking at a quick clip, Judah soon disappeared into the dense forest. Alone, Judah kept his eyes open. In a way, he wished he would have brought Sparky or Ferox, but both droids would be needed back home. Dappled sunlight played across the road as it winded and twisted throughout the land. Within fifteen to twenty minutes, the forest grew less dense and he saw signs of life. Livestock lumbered near the road, stopping to stare at him with big, dopey eyes.

Advancing on the last twist in the road, Judah suddenly found himself gazing upon a very small and very primitive village. Huts were made from hewn logs, with stone foundations on some of the buildings.Salvaged metal and more logs graced the roofs.It was a small collection, no more than four buildings in the cleared out area, with well packed dirt paths leading out from the tiny village out deeper into the forest.

Approaching cautiously, the entire establishment reminded him of his boyhood home. Saluecami had been rural and dirt poor, with many villages serving as a hub for locals for kilometers around. Glancing about as he advanced on the buildings, Judah wondered about such a place in the middle of a supposedly uninhabited forest. Natives? Anti-government types looking to live out their lives? Homeless camp? It was hard to say.

"Hello? Anyone in town?"

 

[Listeri Dalane]

A small XS Light Freighter touched down on a landing pad on the outskirts of the city of Aja. A door slid open, as Listeri, decked out in his usual coat and hat, walked out. He was here due to increased civil unrest, which means, more crime. He jogged over to a waving dock manager, beckoning him to come over. "Oi! Need any help unloading somethin'?" The manager asked. "Nah, don't need much help. Thanks for the offer though." The man nodded, as Listeri walked off. "So...Where to go..." He murmured to himself, as he analyzed his map.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

~Aja City~
~Falxion Avenue - Entertainment District~


Find a place to hide it and disappear. That was what Hako had told her to do. Yet there she stood on the opposite side of the Tight Lane club, hidden in shadow as the Levantine disappeared inside, chewing the inside of her cheek with thought. She'd never seen Hako like this, not in all the years she'd worked with him. Oh, sure, she'd seen him paranoid and rant about how stupid people were, but then she made those stupid people disappear. Any problem that he couldn't solve with his mind she solved with her hands, and person that stood in his way she removed. This, though, this was something different. There were people sniffing around, getting their noses into to deep, likely to pick up a scent soon enough at the rate they were going. They were easy dealt with, you just picked up the lead they were on and made sure it was a dead end they hit, make them chase their own tails until the gave up, to dizzy to make ends meet.

This...this woman though. This woman terrified him, she was a force she could not reckon with, but perhaps these people could reckon with her. How could she both keep them off the trail and protect Hako? A soft sigh escaped her lips. One step at a time. That was how. First things first, she needed to cut the lead. She moved from the shadows finally, small feet carrying her lightly across the promenade and towards the portcullis. Eyes met with the Ranthe who caught her arm before she could step inside and pulled her out of sight. "Akrim," she said smoothly, no hint of irritation at his man handling in her voice, though it glittered in her eyes "most people just ask if they can have a word."

"S'goin on Parla?" he hissed "Some...slayer, e's sticking 'is nose in. Askin' bout it. 'Lotta dead bodies too. Why's the trail lead 'ere?"

"Because of Quim." she replied shortly. "Is he here?"

"'Course 'e is." He caught the look in her eyes. "You bloody mad?! With all this attention too?! Feth Parla." He stepped back from her and shook his head. "Not in 'ere."

"I'm not an idiot."

"Nah, you're a fething nutter. S'what you are. On your head be it."

She offered a small bow. "As it always is." she responded before slipping round him and into the club. All five senses were assaulted the moment she passed through the threshold, pushing through the throng of bodies to find Quim before the Levantine did. The blue smoke of cigarra hung in the air and stung her nostrils as it mixed with the scent of someones too strong aftershave. Deep bass resonated from the speakers, dulling out all other noise. It made Parla feel sick, all of it combined overwhelmed her, she couldn't breathe. She'd never been great in crowds, preferring the quiet life. She clung onto the terrified look on Hako's face as she fought off a panic attack and finally pushed through the worst of the crowd, almost running headlong into the Levantine himself.

For a moment she froze, then recalled he didn't know who she was, and as such she had nothing to fear. An easy smile came to her lips as she mouthed an apology to him. There was no point trying to shout, not over this din. She scanned the crowd again, spotting Quim at the foot of the dancing pole, drooling unceremoniously over a twi'lek dancer. She skirted past the Levantine, target in sights and moved behind Quim, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder and he turned to look up, his stupid grin falling from his face instantly. The word 'frak' formed in his mouth and she responded shortly with 'move'.

He moved, heading towards the back exit, with Parla on his tail. She chanced a glance over her shoulder to see where the Levantine was but the crowd had swallowed him up. Not giving it another thought, she followed her target.


[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]

 

[The Hound]

He felt him before he saw him. A familiar voice, that of [member="Judah Dashiell"], ex Republic Navy just like himself. Swinging from the tree, landing squarely on the dirt, he made his way around through the brush to make sure the pilot hadn't been followed before making himself known. "Judah," he said calmly. In the village the Felucians slowly began to exit their huts, wary of the newcomer. Clapping a gloved hand on his shoulder, Turin grinned. "What's the word from the outside?" It hadn't occurred to Turin that there was no plan of action. He wasn't much in the loop but he knew that he could and would help in any way possible.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

By now Judah had stopped walking, still staring at the small village. Creaking could be heard from the branches above. Judah took it for a type of bird or other relatively harmless creature until he heard his name called. Frowning, the man recognized the voice. However, it was hard to place in a forest full of...well....trees and apparently natives emerging from the buildings in front of him. Glancing around, Judah nearly jumped when the hand clasped his shoulder. Apparently [member="Turin Val Kur"] now liked to make entrances in style.

"Hello Turin." There was a brief pause as Judah glanced to the weary locals. He couldn't blame them. Strangers often brought trouble in such situations. "Word from the outside? Technically we are outside."

"I assume you are talking about non-Levantine space? Also, what are you doing here? Visiting the foresting operation as well?"

 

[Seydon of Arda]

[Aja City / Falxion Avenue / The Tight Lane Dance & Bar]

Advertising had been humble, if not coy. Someone had taken exacting care to craft a particular motif to the establishment esthetics, concerned with keeping up specific, elicited and illicit moods. The Tight Lane was a second world Seroth had waded into low without first testing the waters, now caught in an undertoe that was both enigmatic, vicious, and seductive. It was a scene from Sinde's Last Hell; an ancient manuscript detailing a man's journey through the Nine Hells of Corellia, accompanied by a pagan songstress with esoteric knowledge writ in her days upon the mortal coil. Smoke. Lights. Heat. Twisting bodes in hot flashes of brief illumination. No one paid much heed to a man armed and looking like he'd spent a fortnight out on the forest trails. He was the least interesting spectacle.

Bodies were decked in open augmentation mods: electronic sheathes of wired muscle poking up in patches of necrotic skin, nests of hanging neural wiring cascading from tungsten crowns like dreadlock hair, hands decked in fingerless gloves with the knuckle bones replaced with cyborg prosthetics. It was a cyber-scene, Seroth noted. Specialist 'arcade-core' music wafted from overhead speakers suspended on rotating repulsor bowls, shifting the tunes in a constant circling assault of sonics. The DJ was a masked homunculus, fitted with a fur-lined coat and a long mask issuing two glowing, bulbous eyes. It looked up, cocked its head lengthwise, and started fiddling with its holoboard. Seroth listened to the beat, tempo, and rhythm change up, much to the crowd's approval.

Violet lights cascaded into his eyes. Seroth shielded a forearm across his brows and tried peering about, looking for figures that fitted almost too well with the vaulting spectacle. Two men and one woman coasted by: each was half-naked and sporting electoo tattoos that glowed with digital lines upon their bare skin. One of them upended a flask belted to their waist, drinking back some fluid that was too bright and could be scented over sweat excretions and general pheromone euphoria. This was a different forest: an urban arboreal landscape. Figures were trees moving to sound-waves on the wind. Heads bobbed like denuded mountain caps, bright with water, dripping alcohol. Seroth measured there must have been a sick cocktail of floating narcotics ingested by almost every single individual on the great dance floor. Singling out the ones walking the Indigo Bridge would be difficult.

He turned around and began to loop through the club floor, making headway for the bar. Cliche, but it would be a point of reference. A landmark in the dark landscape. Hired cage-dancers writhed in their barred cells suspended overhead, wholly naked. One man, a species he couldn't quite recognize but with burning eyes looked at him through the smoke fog. He licked his lips at the hunter; Seroth slowly glanced away, oddly flattered. Just then, a woman he hadn't noticed with neon hair, wearing black clothing that kept her hidden against the brighter arrays of circuit-skirts and hardware body-art. They locked eyes, briefly. Hers were bright and clear as hard diamonds, shuffling past on a mission. Seroth watched after her until she too was lost in the chaos of electro-revelry.

"Your poison?" Asked the barkeep when the lad arrived. "Any favourites? ...I assume you have a license for that."

Seroth nodded, smiling despite himself, adjusting the shoulder strap for his vibro longsword. "The bouncers wouldn't have let me passed if I didn't."

Shrugging, the barkeep offered up a tumbler and a long, iridescent bottle of nondescript liquor. A vodka derivative, tasteless alcohol spritzed with flavour. Seroth nodded, reached and promptly knocked it back.

"Can you help me?"

Barkeep looked up, between cleaning glasses, filling them, setting them, and repeating. "Sure, but: specific queries, I don't do advice, and I have no commentary on anyone who may have or have not cheated on you. Shoot."

Seroth laid a small, odd gel pill onto the counter-top. Like an alarmed reptile, the Barkeep flared his nose, hissing low. "Put that shid away, idiot, you want to get arrested? You want to blow this place up, is that it?"

He didn't put it away. The lad accepted a shaky refill and curtly sipped it. "Do you have a story about the Bridge?"

"Feth the Bridge," Spat the Barkeep. "That shidding Bridge's seen some eighteen kids get carted out of here: nine under the influence, nine they killed. It's bad luck, bad business, bad everything."

"It's been sold on the premises," Seroth surmised.

"Yeah... But it's between a hundred other 'lifts' that it's impossible to just look up and spot it," The Barkeep illustrated.

"Tell me how nine people suddenly went mad on the spot."

"...Alright, agent-man, outta time swordsman," He grunted, addressing the lad. "What do you know about the Bridge? First off?"

"...That it takes two sessions before addiction is total. Afterward, it's a spiral into the grave from there, with violence along the way. It kills you by degrading the nerve tissue across the brain and spiking spinal fluid. You go mad, then everything melts down: your grey matter, eyes, some organs."

"That's the gist of it," Nodded the Barkeep. "More or less. It's all about the Bridge. Folks say you see it and you can't forget the sight: you're compelled to complete the passage. ...That's when kids starting Burning the Bridge."

"'Burning the Bridge'?" Seroth echoed.

"Taking one of these capsules by itself is a powerful trip by itself," He explained. "However, the effects stack if you swallow enough. It works in twos. You take two for the one. Then four. Eight. You get the picture."

"But that's..."

"Now you get the picture," The Barkeep gravely slid over another cup, watching it gratefully drank. "It's because no one's gotten to the other side of the Bridge. There is no 'other side'. Those who take it are convinced there has to be. So they decided to Burn the Bridge and take a cocktail of the shide. ...Nine kids did that, jacked themselves up to party out and cross the Bridge. ...Fifteen minutes. Then they broke down, and people started dying."

"If you thought you knew someone lost in that crowd," Seroth cocked his thumb down at the dance floor. "Who was able to distribute the Indigo Bridge... Would you tell me?"

Clubs had defined hierarchic lines of silent loyalty; buying, selling, and even manufacturing 'soft enhancers' were a reality for the hypno-sonic experience. Premise owners turned a blind eye so long as they enjoyed a small cut. Employees kept their mouths shut, eyes half-blind, working to make sure the establishment ran without the scene grinding to a halt. The Barkeep pursed his lips, dodging his glances over to where limbs flailed in timed dance steps. Seroth watched him weigh action against reaction.

"I really don't know..." He said finally. "But..."

Seroth paused the glass at his lips.

"But I was talking to Quim. Chubby gentleman over there," He nodded."Trying not to publicly masturbate before one of the show-dancers. We were talking. He might have mentioned... something. Have a speak with him and... And... Oh. ...Oh, that's no good."

"What?" Seroth followed his gaze. ...It was the woman in the nondescript dress that was black-on-black, compact with hard lines in her eyes, who smiled too smoothly at him. An agitated Quim was being prodded out of his stage seat, herded towards a far exit door behind the DJ set-up table. The lad palmed a handful of credit-chits across the counter and began hurrying through the brambles of tossing crowds. There was a suggestion of outside sunlight opening wide before snapping closed. Girl and man were gone when Seroth arrived at the solid durasteel auto-doors. They whirred open at his approach, the lad taking off into a run down a runty alleyway, sunlight cascading bright behind his shoulders.

[member="Anaya Fen"]