Little Ryloth, Big Trouble

[Kiber Dorn]

Little Ryloth, Nar Shaddaa

“GET OUT….THE...WAY….GET...OUT….”

Panicked footfalls were drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the marketplace in Little Ryloth. Kiber Dorn was running. Presumably one would ask, why are you running, skinny man? Well, that is if one didn't know who Kiber Dorn was. A cocky little shet of a man, he swaggered through life offending everybody and anybody.

Sometimes people didn't take well to being offended. The pair of angry zabrak slavers on his heels were no different.

The intoxicated man whizzed past a sea of blue, green, pink and red, Little Ryloth of course being known for its large twi'lek population. Already he could see a larger rutian twi'lek woman standing directly in his path of escape and with no other way around he had to discard what little manners he had left.

“...LADY! MOVE….THOSE...GIANT…..SHEBS OF….YOURS!”

She did move.

Not in the way that he wanted thought. No, she turned around with a face like furious thunder, stuck her fist out and due to his running momentum socked Kiber right in the jaw. Which dropped him to the ground faster than a sack of potatoes, and it was on the ground he stayed as he writhed upon the questionable floor, clutching his face and extremely aware that his aggressors were catching up.

“...OH FETH….LADY….I….GAAAAH….”

Hey, he was glad he didn't have to run any longer, his shrivelled lungs so terribly close to giving out.

---

[member="Raknar Myles"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Raknar had been sent by the Host Lord to pick up some sundries for the Imperial Palace, goods which could only be found on Nar Shaada. These goods were mostly ingredients to make Hutt dishes as there would be some visiting Hutts on Bastion in the upcoming weeks and Hutts were a finicky bunch when it came to food. And while Raknar felt that this assignment was beneath him as he did with many of his assignments, he went willingly. The Umbaran hadn't visited many planets outside of Umbara and Bastion so the sightseeing and cultural exploration would be good for him, he reasoned.

After picking up the supplies and seeing that they were properly transported and loaded into the freighter, Raknar made his way to Little Ryloth and slipped into a seedy dancer's club because he felt like that was probably the thing to do in Little Ryloth, but bored of all of the passionless gyrating, he finally made his way to the front of the establishment and came upon this man on the ground who appeared to have been assaulted by a rather large Twi'lek female, perhaps the madam or owner of the club.

Not really one to get involved with these kind of unsavory dealings unless something was in it for him, he tried to inch by the woman, and she suddenly pulled her fist back, threatening to give him a punch as well.

"Hold on, Madame!" shouted Raknar. "You are mistaking me for someone else. I am just trying to leave this club." He looked down at the man on the floor and for a fleeting moment, thought he looked familiar, maybe someone he had passed in a Bastion hallway? Hm, it was unlikely but maybe...

[member="Kiber Dorn"]

 

[Kiber Dorn]

As he gasped and wheezed on the floor the large twi'lek suddenly changed the target of her aggression to another fellow who had just so cheekily slipped out of a gentleman's club. What the pair of unfortunate men didn't know, was just who this disgruntled twi'lek woman was.

Lula'leqarna, Galactic Games Weightlifter, 105 kg class.

That wasn't fat, that was muscle, muscle powered by highly illegal bantha bull testosterone supplements, supplements that gave the tenacious rage of a bantha bull in the midst of heat.

They didn't know that however, and thus nothing prevented Kiber Dorn's mouth from moving when he heard another voice refer to her as madame.

“THAT'S….NO….MADAME...!”

Not the best thing to say when the Zabrak slavers were fast catching up and ready to perform a kneecapping. Not the best thing to say in front of Roidy McGee either, as the offended woman planted a boot onto Kiber's scrawny neck, causing him to flail and try to lift the large boot from his throat.

“….h...alp...”

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[member="Raknar Myles"]